Code Red at Sea: A Mallorcan Woman Reports on the Gaza Flotilla

In the Middle of the Sea – Code Red and Tired Voices

It was shortly after midnight when I saw the video: a woman from Palma, the deck behind her only dimly lit, her voice muffled by the wind. Code Red – that is what she said, eyes wide, despite fatigue. The waves were crashing, the ship vibrating; somewhere a dull impact sounded. This is how eyewitnesses aboard the so-called flotilla describe how the night hours turned into a test.

Attacks, drones and the attempt to stay calm

According to accounts on board, in recent days several boats have been flown over by unidentified drones, some even struck by explosions. The activists speak of psychological warfare – a targeted intimidation tactic to turn them back. The group, which includes Mallorcan women, wants to deliver aid shipments to the Gaza Strip; around 50 ships with several hundred volunteers are involved.

You can hear in the reports a strange mix of adrenaline and exhaustion: voices giving orders, others trying to reassure each other. Coffee often stays cold, sleep is scarce. A helper said that the communications technology is constantly checked – protocols, emergency routes, meeting points in poor visibility.

Politics at a distance – ships, explanations, uncertainty

Italy quickly sent a frigate, Spain has now dispatched a warship to enable possible rescue actions. From Madrid it was said they want to uphold international law. For the people at sea, that often sounds like too little: words do not counter nights with drones, according to many activists. There remains a palpable gap between official statements and what happens on board.

Prominent personalities support the mission from various countries, but the danger is real: the route to the eastern Mediterranean is no longer just a political demonstration; it is a risk game with modern military technology.

Why they keep going – and what matters now

The activists emphasize that their action is nonviolent and humanitarian. In the videos you can hear hope between the words – the hope to smuggle through at least some aid, to reach people who urgently need it. At the same time the concern is audible: will European governments intervene, or will it remain only appeals?

The flotilla's location last: in waters near Crete. How long that will last is unknown. A final off-screen glance: a cool night, spotlight beams, and the determination of a small group continuing despite drones and explosions. For many here on the island, this is no longer an abstract event – they are acquaintances, friends, whose stories are now followed.