Four people are dead. Not somewhere on the open sea, but in a passage that thousands of sailors cross every year – and that we also navigate regularly. The collision on June 14 raises questions that go far beyond this single accident.
Note: The title image is an AI-generated illustrative reconstruction, not an original photograph.
On 14 June 2026, a passenger catamaran collided with a sailing yacht in the Splitska Vrata passage between Šolta and Brač. Eight Czech nationals were aboard the yacht. The yacht sank, and four people lost their lives.
A few days later, the Croatian State Attorney’s Office announced that there were reasonable grounds to suspect that the catamaran’s First Officer had been navigating without the radar and collision-warning systems switched on, had failed to monitor the surrounding traffic continuously and had not maintained a safe speed in view of the traffic density. As a result, the sailing yacht approaching from starboard was allegedly not detected in time. The forward starboard section of the catamaran struck the aft starboard section of the sailing yacht.
The final determination of the accident’s causes and the parties responsible remains a matter for the competent authorities and courts.
Author’s note: The published description of the collision raises questions for me about its precise geometry. The State Attorney’s Office explicitly states that the sailing yacht approached from starboard and that the forward starboard section of the catamaran struck the aft starboard section of the sailing yacht. Without knowing the exact courses of both vessels and any manoeuvres made immediately before the collision, however, it is impossible to reconstruct the sequence of events conclusively. I therefore do not wish to speculate. The final investigation by the competent authorities remains decisive.
The allegations are serious. If this account is confirmed, there is no excusing or minimising what happened.
Anyone who regularly navigates through Splitska Vrata also knows the other side of the story. Ferries and high-speed passenger catamarans have to maintain their schedules while passing through one of the busiest traffic areas in the Croatian Adriatic. At the same time, sailing yachts, motorboats and excursion vessels cross their routes—sometimes unpredictably and with little apparent consideration for other traffic.
I have navigated through Splitska Vrata regularly for years. What I see and experience there often leaves me speechless and raises serious doubts about the competence of some sailing crews.
Whenever I cross the routes used by the ferries, I follow one simple principle: If my yacht is making less than five knots under sail, or if the wind or traffic situation means that I cannot safely maintain my course, I keep both engines running.
Not because this is always strictly necessary, but because I want my movements to remain as predictable as possible and my yacht to be fully manoeuvrable at all times. I also see no reason to make the job of a commercial vessel more difficult when its crew must maintain a schedule while carrying responsibility for a large number of passengers.
I am there in my leisure time, on holiday. I have time. A ferry does not.
That certainly does not mean that different collision-prevention rules apply to commercial shipping. No captain or officer of the watch is relieved of the obligation to maintain a proper lookout, proceed at a safe speed and take timely action.
But to me, good seamanship involves more than asking: “Which vessel has the right of way?”
It also means thinking ahead, navigating predictably and allowing others to do their jobs safely.
Anyone who has watched sailing yachts and motorboats criss-crossing Splitska Vrata during the high season, while ferries and high-speed passenger catamarans have to find their way through the middle of them, may understand why I do not want the discussion following this tragic accident to focus solely on commercial shipping.
We also need to talk about ourselves as recreational skippers.
The following video shows very clearly what happens in Splitska Vrata every day during the season. The captain of one of the high-speed ferries once summed up the situation to me in stark terms:
Every time we pass through Splitska Vrata, we are taking our lives in our hands.
The conduct of the sailing yacht’s skipper after the accident also raises critical questions for me. After being discharged from hospital, he left Croatia while an injured member of his crew remained in hospital receiving treatment. Four members of his crew had lost their lives in the accident. Whether his departure was legally questionable or connected to any potential misconduct on his part has not been established and must be determined by the judicial authorities.
My entirely personal view is this: irrespective of the legal assessment, I consider his conduct highly questionable. A skipper’s responsibility for the crew does not exist only while the vessel is underway. In my view, that responsibility does not end after a serious accident simply because the skipper has been discharged from hospital. When someone leaves the country in such circumstances, while an injured crew member remains in hospital and the deaths of four people are still under investigation, it raises serious doubts in my mind about that person’s character and suitability to command a vessel and assume responsibility for the people entrusted to them. I would not personally entrust my safety to such a skipper.
His subsequent claim that, despite suffering fractured ribs himself, he rescued a woman trapped inside the sinking yacht also remains his own account. Based on the publicly available information, I cannot independently confirm how the rescue took place or what injuries he was actually diagnosed with. His account should therefore not be presented as an established fact without independent verification.
For me, the fundamental question remains: What responsibility does a skipper bear after a catastrophe towards the surviving members of the crew and the families of those who died? Seamanship is demonstrated not only at the helm, but especially when something terrible has happened.
What troubles me about the reporting so far is that these questions have received little or no attention. The criminal investigation has focused primarily on the First Officer of the high-speed passenger catamaran. There are understandable reasons for this: he was navigating the vessel at the time of the collision, and investigators suspect that the necessary collision-avoidance measures were not taken. His potential responsibility is considerable.
Nevertheless, I believe it is too narrow to focus exclusively on the bridge of the high-speed catamaran. There were also people aboard the sailing yacht who observed the approaching vessel. According to the skipper’s own account, an avoiding manoeuvre was ordered only immediately before the collision. Why was it not initiated much earlier? Who was maintaining a proper lookout? When was the risk of collision recognised? Why, in one of Dalmatia’s busiest areas of maritime traffic, was a crew member at the helm rather than the skipper responsible for the vessel?
A sailing yacht may generally be the stand-on vessel in an encounter with a power-driven vessel. But that never gives it the right to maintain its course blindly until a collision occurs. The collision-prevention rules require every vessel to maintain a proper lookout, assess the risk of collision continuously and take timely action. As soon as it becomes apparent that the give-way vessel is not taking sufficient action, the stand-on vessel must also respond. The COLREGs state these obligations clearly: International Maritime Organization – COLREGs
In my conversations with people in the area, the responsibility of the sailing yacht and its skipper was viewed far more critically than the public reporting to date would suggest. These conversations do not constitute a representative survey and cannot replace an official investigation. They do, however, demonstrate that I am far from alone in asking these still largely unanswered questions about the conduct of the sailing crew.
I cannot prove whether economic or tourism interests have influenced the way the accident has been presented publicly. Such a suspicion should therefore not be stated as fact. What is clear to me, however, is that a complete investigation must not end with the potential culpability of the First Officer. It must examine just as openly which decisions were made aboard the sailing yacht—and which may have been made too late or not at all.
What makes the situation in Splitska Vrata particularly difficult, in my experience, is the unpredictability of some recreational traffic. I have repeatedly witnessed sudden and barely comprehensible course alterations, sailing yachts crossing immediately ahead of approaching ferries, and skippers who appear to assume that the other vessel will simply get out of their way.
There are also situations in which no consistent lookout is apparent, or where more attention seems to be directed towards the chartplotter, a mobile phone or the guests than towards the surrounding traffic. For commercial vessels, this means that their crews must not only monitor numerous small craft simultaneously, but must also constantly anticipate that one of them may suddenly do something completely unexpected.
In such a heavily trafficked area, that unpredictability represents a considerable risk.
One problem I increasingly notice when sailing in Croatia is the enormous variation in experience and competence among recreational skippers. A recognised certificate of competence is required for bareboat charter—but it is far from proof that someone can command a 45- or 50-foot yacht confidently in dense traffic.
Modern charter yachts make many things easier. Chartplotters, autopilots, electric winches and powerful engines can quickly create the impression that the vessel is fully under control.
But being able to operate a boat and being able to command a vessel safely are two entirely different things.
That difference becomes particularly apparent at a maritime traffic bottleneck such as Splitska Vrata.
A ferry or high-speed passenger catamaran cannot manoeuvre through traffic in the same way as a small yacht. Speed, mass and stopping and turning distances all play an important role. At the same time, the bridge team must monitor numerous vessels and assess their courses and intentions.
The situation becomes especially difficult when several small craft cross at the same time and their intentions are not readily apparent.
Of course, neither a ferry’s size nor its timetable automatically gives it right of way—the collision-prevention rules apply to everyone. But does that mean that we, as recreational skippers, should push every encounter to the last possible moment?
If I can alter my course early, without any meaningful disadvantage, so that a ferry can clearly understand my intentions and does not need to react in the first place, then to me that is not a question of right of way. It is a question of good seamanship and mutual consideration.
When I pass through Splitska Vrata, I begin monitoring the traffic situation long before reaching the actual ferry routes. AIS, the chartplotter and—when necessary—radar help me do this, but they can never replace looking outside.
If I am sailing at less than five knots, I generally keep both engines running so that I can respond quickly and safely at any time. A catamaran sailing at perhaps three knots is comparatively sluggish, and rapid manoeuvres are not always possible.
The engines are running, my course is clear and my intentions are made apparent to other vessels as early as possible. I maintain a steady course and avoid unpredictable manoeuvres. Whenever possible, I allow fast-moving commercial vessels to pass ahead of me and prefer to cross well astern of them.
In my personal experience, the high-speed ferries in Splitska Vrata can often be heard from a considerable distance. This does not, of course, replace a proper lookout, AIS or any other navigational aid.
If the situation is unclear, I slow down or wait. Two or three minutes make no difference to me, and I see no sensible reason to allow an entirely routine traffic encounter to develop into a collision situation in the first place.
The collision-prevention rules provide the binding framework for our conduct at sea. But to me, good seamanship means more than simply knowing which vessel must give way and which is required to stand on.
The objective is not to enforce your right of way. It is to prevent a collision.
If a small and timely alteration of course or speed prevents a dangerous close-quarters situation from developing at all, I lose nothing and reduce the risk before the situation becomes critical.
In this context, it is also necessary to ask when those aboard the sailing yacht could first recognise that a dangerous close-quarters situation was developing and what options remained available at that point to defuse it.
At a speed of 32 knots, a vessel travels approximately 0.99 kilometres per minute—or around 494 metres in 30 seconds. The actual distance between the two vessels naturally depended on their respective courses, speeds and any manoeuvres they may have made. The catamaran’s speed alone therefore cannot tell us when the risk of collision became clearly apparent.
Was it already evident at that point that their courses were dangerously converging? Did someone rely on the other vessel to take action? Or was the developing situation recognised too late aboard one of the vessels?
Only the investigation can ultimately answer these questions.
Irrespective of this particular accident, however, one principle always applies: once an immediate risk of collision develops, every available means must be used to prevent impact—if necessary, including a last-minute collision-avoidance manoeuvre.
At sea, being legally in the right is of no comfort after a collision. Recreational skippers often have something that commercial vessels do not have to the same extent: time. Let us use it.
This raises another question that extends far beyond Splitska Vrata: How well qualified are the skippers to whom charter companies now hand over yachts of 40, 50 or even more feet?
Holding a valid certificate of competence is one thing. Having sufficient practical experience on a yacht of that size is something entirely different. My own experiences in Croatia have given me considerable reason to reflect on this distinction.
One clarification is particularly important to me: I do not wish to suggest that the Czech skipper or his crew lacked the necessary qualifications or experience. I have no reliable information that would support such a claim.
The broader question concerning the competence of recreational skippers arises from the steadily increasing size and complexity of modern charter yachts, irrespective of this particular accident.
This subject therefore deserves separate consideration. The point is not to portray charter skippers collectively as inexperienced, but to address a fundamental question:
Is it enough for someone to be legally permitted to command a vessel—or should a charter base also verify whether that person is genuinely capable of doing so?