The ship

Iuventa in operation.

The IUVENTA was built in 1962, as a steel motor vessel, 32 metres long and almost 7 meters wide. She had been a fishing boat, then an offshore supply vessel under the name ALK EXPLORER. She changed between functions as the decades passed. In June 2016, Jugend Rettet bought her for €130,000, gave her a new name, and sent her south. IUVENTA. Latin for youth.

She was not built for comfort or speed, she was built to withstand rough seas. And she did: over 16 missions across little more than a year in the SAR zone, the IUVENTA was directly involved in the rescue of more than 23,000 people. As one of the smaller vessels in the civil rescue fleet, she operated as a first responder, making use of her RHIBs operating as super fast autonomous assets, reaching people in distress faster than larger ships could arrive. Over 9,000 people came aboard. Thousands more were treated on the water.

The bridge was the heart of the ship: navigation, radio, mission planning, and between operations, the first coffee of the morning, quiet conversations, the kind of intimacy that grows between people who decided to act.

The Hospital was tucked into the cargo hold: one room, one stretcher, the equipment of an ambulance. Hundreds of people were treated here. But on most days, the treatment areas spread across the decks — wherever there was space, wherever there was need.

The Deck was a multi-purpose space in every sense: workspace for repairs, site of meetings and trainings, living space for the crew — and, above all, the place where rescued people arrived and found a first moment of rest, of care.

The Engine room was the ship's heart: main engine, generators, desalination plant. The Iuventa ran on what was kept alive down here. Yet on the Iuventa, this confined space also offered protection whenever the so-called Libyan Coast Guard or other hostile actors approached the ship.

The Galley was more than a kitchen and dining room: most group meetings, briefings, and discussions happened here. Like the bridge, it was one of those places where you almost always found someone to talk to — the kind of place a ship grows around.

Iuventa after seizure.

When the ship was seized on 2 August 2017, the blue hull of the Iuventa filled the front pages of newspapers across the world.

On 4 August, the Iuventa was transferred to the port of Trapani. Under intense public scrutiny, the "instrument of the crime" was locked behind fenced-off areas, guarded around the clock by a coast guard vessel. As interest faded, she was moved to the open section of the harbour basin, where the authorities simply let her sit until the end of the trial. For nearly seven years, the ship remained moored at that quayside, exposed to the elements, unmaintained.

Three years in, the forward hatch of the bridge was broken open in a burglary. Equipment was stolen. People had clearly ransacked the interior. A police report was filed, but nothing changed for another year. No one was held accountable. Our lawyers sent repeated written requests for technical inspections and basic engine maintenance to prevent irreversible long-term damage. The requests were acknowledged in letters and ignored in practice.

In December 2022, the court could no longer ignore what maritime experts had confirmed: the Iuventa was at risk of sinking due to the damage caused by years of neglect. The court ordered her dry-docked at a nearby shipyard. But to everyone's surprise, the judge went further: he ordered that extensive maintenance work be carried out to restore the ship to the condition she was in before her seizure in August 2017.

In April 2024, when the charges were dropped in the criminal proceedings against the crew, one thing became clear: the Iuventa had never been a "smoking gun" — she had been a prop, seized to suggest investigative successes against NGOs, to make a story stick.

She was returned to us in such a state of disrepair that we could not even take possession: she is not able to move safely from where she sits. When our inspectors were finally able to examine her properly, the findings were precise and damning. Advanced corrosion throughout the hull. Deck plating that had lost structural integrity. A seized propeller. Valves blocked by marine growth. The entire interior in a state of complete disrepair.

The cost of cleaning and restoring the Iuventa to the condition she was in at the time of seizure exceeded her estimated market value.

We are now suing the Italian Ministry of Infrastructure and Transport for compensation. The proceedings are ongoing. The damage is documented, assessed, and real. We are fighting to make the destruction of this ship, and what she represents, cost something.