Riccardo's Radiance
Remembering a man who moved through the world—and the oceans—with unwavering kindness and light.
Riccardo Benoni was a beloved Italian friend and superyacht captain with whom I had the pleasure to sail for several months. He died suddenly at 44 years old.
I met Riccardo in 2024 in Panama, when he took me on as crew to cross the Pacific. He and his partner, Elletra—also a captain—were delivering a brand-new Solaris 50 to New Zealand with their two young children, then aged two and five.
They had just crossed the Atlantic after departing from Mallorca, Spain, where they live. I joined the boat along with Emanuela, a close friend of the family and an experienced sailor.
During a week of engine and systems maintenance, Elletra and Emanuela provisioned the boat meticulously, ensuring that each meal was nothing short of a feast.
After time at Shelter Bay Marina, we set off—through the Panama Canal and on to the Galápagos.
From there, Elletra flew back to Europe for work, leaving Riccardo, Emanuela, and me to take the children across the Pacific—a 19-day trade-wind crossing to the Marquesas Islands.
Riccardo’s masterful weather routing and sailing made the crossing both comfortable and fast.
We averaged 160 nautical miles per day—a strong cruising pace for a yacht of that size. At night, we reduced sail for safety. During the day, we often set a Code Zero sail, perfectly suited to the trade winds.
With Emanuela in the galley—a professional cook on superyachts—we dined remarkably well. Evenings began with aperitivo—prosciutto, parmesan, olives, mini pizzas—followed by pasta cooked al dente, as only Italians can do.
I fell in love with Parmigiano during that crossing—a treasonous act for a Frenchman—and gained ten pounds in the process.
Riccardo, beyond being a captain, was a constant presence in his children’s lives. When we caught fish, he prepared perfect tuna steaks at sunset. There is nothing quite like a fine dinner, in swim shorts, in the middle of the Pacific.
Emanuela cared for the children’s daily needs, ensuring Luna kept up with her schooling, while I assisted Zeno in building elaborate cushion forts in the cockpit. The galley even had a yoga swing that the kids used like circus performers; miraculously, nothing was damaged and no one was hurt.
On the long Pacific swells, Zeno would run laps around the spacious cockpit, at times appearing to float before crashing down in bursts of fearless energy—his spirit mirroring Riccardo’s: daring, precise, and efficient.
Shortly after arriving in the Marquesas, a near-fatal accident left Emanuela incapacitated (see Chaos and Bliss off the Marquesas Islands).
I was asked to continue with the boat, now heading to the Tuamotus and Tahiti, from where Elletra (who had rejoined us in the Marquesas) and the children would make their way back to Spain.
With the kids constantly snacking and living aboard in close quarters, I spent much of my time cleaning and maintaining the boat. My crewmates nicknamed me Cinderella.
Crewing with professional captains teaches you how to maintain a vessel in pristine condition. These yachts are floating showpieces—expected to perform and to impress.
On land, we visited playgrounds whenever we could. At five, Luna spoke Italian, Spanish, and English fluently. Within minutes, she would find a friend and spend the afternoon hand in hand. Zeno moved with fearless energy, shaped by life at sea.
Living together on a boat reveals who people are. From the beginning, Riccardo’s warmth drew me into his world.
He carried himself with a refined, almost aristocratic politeness, combined with deep technical mastery earned over years working with elite superyacht builders, riggers, and racers.
I watched him juggle captaincy, fatherhood, partnership, and business—handling logistics, coordinating medical care for Emanuela —while remaining fully present, especially with his children.
He was generous with his knowledge, never failing to help fellow sailors, offering advice, hands-on assistance, or simply sharing his vast network of contacts and favorite anchorages across the globe.
With five Atlantic crossings, two Pacific crossings, two Indian Ocean crossings, and two full circumnavigations via the canals, Riccardo possessed extraordinary knowledge—of weather systems, rigging, sail technology, electronics, rope work, and mechanical engineering.
But what touched me most was his trust in me—a rare kind of trust I had only experienced with true masters: seasoned fishing captains in Alaska or retired military officers I had worked with.
I continued sailing for months with a man who loved the sea as deeply as he loved people, bringing the boat to Fiji and New Zealand, her final destination.
My heart aches knowing I will never again hug this giant-hearted man, never again sail beside him to distant islands of the South Pacific.
I loved Riccardo deeply—as a friend, a brother. Long watches, shared work, and life at sea create a profound bond.
His presence inspired respect and loyalty, while giving me the opportunity to be of service—to a vessel, a crew, and a captain I deeply admired.
Even routine tasks—servicing an engine, tuning winches—became acts of gratitude. Every question I asked was met with patience.
I remember nights on deck—clipped into my harness, crawling forward to rig a boom preventer while Riccardo steered with quiet precision. He approached even cruising with the mindset of a racer, constantly fine-tuning and seeking the small gains that make a difference over thousands of miles.
He was an exceptional sailor and a devoted friend, always finding time to stay connected, to share moments, to make others feel included.
Not long after I returned to the U.S., Riccardo and Elletra announced they were expecting their third child—and that they were getting married.
I was honored to be in Mallorca, capturing their celebration on film and creating something lasting for their family and friends.
It has been a month since Riccardo passed.
I have been dancing for him ever since and kept a nightly fire vigil for 21 days, joined by friends who had never even met him.
Grief is a wild and unpredictable sea.
But I am grateful—to dance, to pray, to celebrate the life of this remarkable man, and to accompany him, in my own way, on his final passage.
May his family be wrapped in a tide of love as enduring and abundant as the love he shared throughout his all-too-brief life.
You will be deeply missed, Riccardo.
You are loved.
You will be remembered.
May your spirit continue to grace us with its radiant presence.
WEDDING VIDEOS
Elettra & Riccardo 9.5.25 Aperitivo al Mare (Cocktails at the Beach)
Elettra & Riccardo. 9.6.25 Cerimonia d’Amore (Wedding Ceremony)
Elettra & Riccardo 9.7.25 Relax a Bordo Piscina (Relax by the Pool)
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RIP Riccardo , your spirit sails on !