St Paul’s Bay jet-ski horror: operator suspended as Malta debates thrill-seeking tourism

# Operator suspended after runaway jet ski crashes at St Paul’s Bay

**St Paul’s Bay** – A summer afternoon on Malta’s north-eastern shoreline turned chaotic on Monday when an unmanned jet-ski ploughed into a group of bathers, injuring two tourists and prompting Transport Malta to suspend the operator’s licence with immediate effect. The incident, captured on several mobile phones and already racking up thousands of views on TikTok, has reignited long-simmering tensions between residents and the burgeoning water-sports lobby that has turned the once-quiet fishing village into the island’s busiest aquatic playground.

Eyewitnesses say the craft, rented from a kiosk on Buġibba Perched Beach, was left idling while the Maltese operator helped a German couple adjust their life-vests. A rogue wave, amplified by the wake of a passing party boat, apparently dislodged the jet-ski’s throttle, sending it careering in a 30-metre arc before slamming into a Polish mother and her teenage son who were wading chest-deep in the turquoise shallows. Lifeguards dragged the pair ashore; they were later treated at Mater Dei for deep bruises and whiplash, but discharged the same evening. “It could have been much worse,” St Paul’s Bay mayor Alfred Grima told *Hot Malta*. “We’ve asked for jet-ski exclusion zones for years. Today the sea spoke louder than paperwork.”

For locals, the accident is déjà vu. Over the past decade, St Paul’s Bay has morphed from a postcard-perfect cove where elders played *bocci* under the parish church’s shadow to a high-octane hub of banana boats, parasails and 150-horsepower engines. Rental licences have tripled since 2016, with operators drawn by the wide sandy entry and direct bus link to tourist hubs. But the boom has come at a cost: last summer alone, bay users logged 47 formal complaints about speeding jet-skis, while marine biologists warn that engine noise is driving away the same seahorses featured on Malta’s 10-cent coin.

Cultural guardians fear the island is trading its *għanja* (traditional folk song) heritage for the roar of two-stroke engines. “Our grandparents came here on feast day to bless the fishing fleet,” recalls 78-year-old Carmen Farrugia, who sells *ħobż biż-żejt* from a kiosk her family has run since 1954. “Now we bless fuel tanks.” The feast of St Paul’s Shipwreck, celebrated with fireworks and a procession of the saint’s relic in February, still draws faithful to the baroque church, but summer commerce is dominated by multilingual signs promising “15 min Jet Ski only €35”. The clash of values spilled onto Facebook within minutes of Monday’s crash, with one viral comment reading: “We’ve gone from Paul the Apostle to Paul the Adrenaline Junkie.”

Economically, the sector is no small fry. Water-sports operators contribute an estimated €4 million annually to the St Paul’s Bay economy, employing around 180 mostly young Maltese who might otherwise seek work abroad. “One reckless incident should not sink an entire industry,” insists Jeremy Pace, president of the Association of Aquatic Leisure Operators, who points to new GPS speed-limiters and third-party insurance mandates introduced this season. Yet the pressure to deliver “Instagrammable thrills” can incentivise corner-cutting. Monday’s suspended operator, a 24-year-old from Żejtun, had passed his safety audit only three weeks ago; colleagues claim the choke mechanism was factory-modified to allow faster acceleration—a tweak that may now prompt criminal charges.

Transport Malta has impounded the craft and launched a joint investigation with the police’s Maritime Squad. Sources say the government is considering a sunset-to-sunrise ban on rentals, mirroring Gozo’s Mġarr Harbour model, and could designate a 200-metre swimmers-only buffer marked by yellow buoys. Environmental NGOs want stricter caps: “We regulate dive schools to eight divers per guide; why not one jet-ski per hectare?” asks Marie Therese Zammit of Friends of the Earth Malta.

For the bay’s swelling expat community, the debate is about livability. British retiree John Simmons, enjoying a morning swim when the accident happened, puts it bluntly: “We came for the quiet life. If I wanted Magaluf, I’d have stayed in Benidorm.” Yet others embrace the buzz. Italian tourist Chiara Bellini, recovering from a fractured wrist after the crash, surprised reporters by saying she’ll return: “Malta is beautiful. Just maybe keep the jet-skis a little farther out?”

As the sun set over St Paul’s Bay on Tuesday, the usual armada of rainbow inflatables bobbed on the tide, but an undercurrent of change was palpable. Children still hunted for *ħġar* (smooth pebbles) along the waterline, but their parents eyed every approaching engine with suspicion. Whether the island can balance euro signs with *għanja* refrains will depend on policymakers’ willingness to tame the throttle of an industry that, until Monday, seemed unstoppable. One thing is certain: the sea that welcomed St Paul in 60 AD is now demanding a safer welcome for everyone else.