US aircraft carrier off Palma — now in the Caribbean: What the presence of the 'Gerald Ford' means for Mallorca

A colossus off Palma, then back in the Caribbean

In October a huge ship stayed for several days in the bay of Palma; many of us saw it — from the Passeig Marítim, at a café at 11 a.m., or on a walk around the port. That was the USS Gerald R. Ford. The carrier has since moved on and is now off the coast of Venezuela, apparently at heightened readiness.

Why this stands out

Official explanations from Washington are scarce. But several clues suggest it was more than just a routine visit: flight bans for small boats nearby, strict security zones, and reports that airlines like Iberia suspended flights to Caracas. Taken together, this points to more happening behind the scenes than a short stopover.

What the Gerald Ford can do

The dimensions are impressive: about 337 meters long, room for thousands of crew and nearly ninety aircraft on board — F/A-18s, F-35s and others. Technically the ship relies on electromagnetic launch systems that enable rapid deployments. In practice this means a highly flexible platform that can provide air support as well as other types of operations.

The political context

The US government has long accused Venezuela's leadership of operating on a large scale in the drug trade; the names of senior politicians and military figures have been mentioned in this context. In recent weeks the US Navy has increased seizures and chases of vessels in the region — some operations even ended in fatalities. Against this backdrop, the deployment of a carrier to the Caribbean does not appear accidental.

For those of us in Mallorca the memory of those October days remains. The carrier was at anchor from October 3 to 8 — walkers saw sailors ashore and the security zones were palpable. Historically this was not a first: since the 1950s large warships have regularly visited the bay, sometimes as a show of presence, sometimes for logistical reasons.

Whether concrete actions will follow in the coming days or weeks remains uncertain. People who work at the port or jog by the sea in the morning only notice how much such ships change the atmosphere: conversations on the quay turn more serious, boat rentals withdraw, and weather reports suddenly gain a political tone.

I spent a long time looking at the catamaran pontoon on October 4 — and thought: you don't forget something like that quickly.