When the Salt Is Under Water: Storm Hits Saltworks at Ses Salines

When the Salt Is Under Water: Storm Hits Saltworks at Ses Salines

Those who drove along the narrow coastal road of Ses Salines early yesterday morning heard not only the roar of the surf. Over the pans lay the monotonous pumping, the squelch of wet rubber boots on muddy paths and the shrill cry of a seagull fluttering about like a forgotten windbag. Salinera Española reports: around 11,000 tons of salt are currently lost or underwater.

Why the figure is more than a statistic

On paper that may not sound like a national disaster. Spain harvests far more. Locally, however, this number is a severe cut: of a usual annual harvest of about 80,000 tons, so far only just under 21,000 tons have been recovered. Technicians are pumping, workers are pushing carts over muddy paths, dikes are being temporarily reinforced. Time is a factor: pumping out water, cleaning brine, checking quality — that takes time. Those responsible expect up to a month before a reliable assessment is available.

The key question: How resilient are our saltworks?

The pressing problem is not only economic. The salt pans are a cultural element; their salt ends up in restaurants from Palma to Port de Sóller, is sold in local delicatessens and is part of the islands' identity. If tradition and production are damaged by extreme weather, the question arises: Who pays the price — the owners, the employees, the community?

Underestimated consequences for work and supply

On Ibiza you can feel it immediately in everyday life: seasonal jobs are at risk, mainland traders have to rethink delivery schedules, small processors receive scarce batches. Chefs in Mallorca are also uneasy on rainy days: many buy salt with regional origin because it has a characteristic taste. Supply chains are closely interwoven — what goes wrong in Ibiza quickly appears on the table in Palma and at the farmers' market in Santa Catalina.

Ecological disruptions

Salt pans are more than salt basins. They are habitats: wading birds rest there, small crustaceans and microorganisms create complex food chains. Sudden fluctuations in water level and salinity disturb breeding times and migration routes. A too-rapid influx or a long-term flooding can shift species — with consequences that become noticeable only months later in bird counts and insect catches.

What is often overlooked

Several points remain in the dark for too long in public debate. First: storage and quality issues. Not every pumped-out salt has the same quality; some batches are effectively lost. Second: insurance. Small operators often do not have comprehensive disaster policies. Third: traditional knowledge. Salt masters know how to control floods and form crystals — that is artisanal capital that cannot be replaced overnight. Fourth: the risk of cumulative events. One storm is bad. Several in quick succession could make whole production branches untenable.

Short- and mid-term responses

Practically this means: in the short term, pumping capacity and temporary dry storage areas must be increased. Mobile protective elements, provisional drying areas and prioritizing repairs of critical dikes help save quality. In Mallorca fishermen and dryers at Es Trenc remember similar improvised actions after storms — you quickly learn what is urgent.

In the medium term, investments are needed in more robust dike structures, better drainage and a coordinated emergency plan for personnel, machines and logistics. Insurance models that cover smaller businesses and a regional fund for crop losses would reduce financial risks. Digital monitoring systems could also help to observe water levels and salt concentrations in real time.

Ecology and marketing as part of the solution

For ecology, expanded monitoring programs are necessary — for example regular bird counts and measurements of microbial communities — so that lasting damage can be detected early. And economically there is an opportunity: market regional salt products more strongly as a quality good, with certificates for sustainability and climate adaptation. Such added value helps cushion revenue losses and protect jobs.

A societal perspective: climate, culture, solidarity

Ses Salines is a microcosm for a larger debate: how do we integrate traditional crafts into a world with more frequent extreme events? Who bears the cost when climate impacts hit the basis of local identity? The answer must begin locally — with technical measures, but also with social instruments: retraining for seasonal workers, faster access to emergency payments and transparent communication with residents.

Under grey skies people continue to work while the sea rushes in the background and a seagull occasionally cries over the pans. Patience is required — and the willingness to think beyond mere repairs. Only in this way can salt pans and the people who rely on them become more resilient.

We will keep following this and report as soon as new figures, voices from the region or decisions by the authorities are available.