115 Migrant Boats: What Happens to the Wrecks at Son Tous

115 migrant boats disposed in the Balearics — a reality check from Son Tous

Key question: Who bears the costs and why are hulls piling up near Palma?

The Spanish government delegation counts: 115 boats were destroyed last year in the Balearic Islands, while nearly 400 inflatable and wooden boats reached the islands in total. Dozens of wrecks still lie at the former Son Tous military site near Palma, lined up side by side on gravel. Trucks drive past, gulls circle, and sometimes you can hear the sea in the distance — a strange place for so much human distress, as local reporting such as Shipwreck at Cala Millor: One Dead, Many Questions — How Can We Better Protect People? has shown.

Disposal is not automatically paid for: apparently, costs are only covered if municipalities or port authorities report a boat. That helps explain why many hulls remain unregistered for weeks or months and are stored on sites like Son Tous. At the same time, the contract with the disposal company Adalmo continues — with a budget of more than half a million euros, likely running until 2027. The stark figures raise questions that are often missing from the public debate, and political clashes over responsibility have been explored in pieces such as Boat tragedy off Mallorca: Between grief, legal battles and the question of a Plan B.

First: The gap between landings (almost 400) and registered disposals (115) is large. That does not automatically mean the remaining boats are still afloat — many could already have been destroyed, relaunched, or stored elsewhere. But the discrepancy points to problems in recording and responsibility. Second: If only reported boats are paid for, there is an incentive to delay reporting — out of fear of costs or due to lack of capacity. Third: Storage sites like Son Tous are practical but suboptimal: they are not designed for long-term storage or forensic investigation and are often located on the outskirts of urban areas.

What is missing from public discourse is less moral outrage than clear procedures: Who inspects the condition of the boats? How long may they remain on publicly accessible land? Who pays if neither the municipality nor the port authority reports them? And: Are there standards for environmentally appropriate disposal of fuel residues, plastics and metal parts?

An everyday scene helps to understand: on a cold January morning at the fence of Son Tous you can see men in safety vests comparing inventory lists. A dog pulls on its leash, a tarpaulin-covered lorry prepares to leave. The boats seem silent, but they are traces of people fleeing — and at the same time a logistical challenge for an island juggling tourism, limited budgets and legal responsibilities, reminders of tragedies such as the Patera Capsizes Near Portopetro — One Dead, Three Missing and Many Unanswered Questions.

1) Central register: A regional database for landed boats, accessible to municipalities, port authorities and disposal companies, would avoid duplication and create transparency. 2) Clear funding rules: The Balearic government could set up a fund to cover initial disposal and then allocate costs among municipality, port and central government. 3) Standardized procedures: Environmental checks, removal of fuel contaminants, and a fixed storage period on certified sites — not on improvised military land. 4) Faster processing: Mobile teams that document, photograph and tag boats at landing sites immediately would prevent backlogs. 5) Public oversight: Semiannual reports on numbers, costs and the whereabouts of boats would build trust.

These steps require money and organization — but they would reduce long-term effort, environmental risks and the nuisance of abandoned wrecks. They would also help the island’s image: when a tourist walks along the Passeig Marítim and hears the news, they should not think the authorities are acting haphazardly.

Punchy conclusion: Son Tous is currently both a way station for fates and a junkyard. The figures — 115 disposed boats, almost 400 arrivals — are just the tip of an administrative iceberg. Who takes responsibility, who pays and how quickly action is taken will determine whether Mallorca keeps struggling with the issue or manages it properly. A bit more bureaucracy with clear rules would be practical here — and more humane than the chaos you can see at a windy fence in Son Tous.