It was still dark in the northern Spanish city of San Sebastián when the two men – one Spanish, the other Brazilian – were struck with the idea of going for a swim. They raced into the frigid, lapping waters of the city’s Playa de La Concha, capping off a night of hard partying.
Their troubles started soon after. The currents in the Bay of Biscay were strong, pulling them deeper into the 13C (55F) waters. A police officer spotted them struggling, and set in motion a rescue that brought more than 20 first responders to the scene.
The rescue in April racked up an estimated cost of €6,000 (£5,200). But if officials in San Sebastián get their way, it may be one of the last times they foot the bill for such a rescue: the Basque city is drafting legislation to charge those needing rescue for costs incurred in cases of negligence or recklessness.
“I would love to never charge a single euro, pound or dollar,” says Martín Ibabe, the city councillor responsible for citizen safety. “The objective here is to prevent these types of incidents from happening. The confrontational nature of this law is aimed at making people think twice.”
When the city began drafting the bill two years ago, it found few other examples. While at least half a dozen Spanish regions have set out regulations that would allow them to recoup the cost of some rescues, this rarely happens, owing to tussles between different levels of authorities over the wording of the legislation or worries over public perception.
But officials in San Sebastián – a city of 187,000 people and four beaches – are determined to bring in the new law and ensure it can be used. “We’re blazing a new path,” says Ibabe.
What has spurred him is a recent rise in cases of reckless swimming – from drunken partygoers taking a dip in the dark to eager swimmers who bluster past signs stating the beach is closed.
The city has also been beset by what Ibabe calls “clear acts of irresponsibility”, including a tourist left stranded by tides after he dozed off on a stone jetty and a drunken woman who scrambled down the rocks in an area known for its ferocious waves.
A steady succession of rescues in recent years has left locals paying the substantial costs. Every rescue also entails a personal risk for first responders and ties up valuable resources, leaving the city more vulnerable if there is another emergency at the same time.
The legislation has proven complicated to draft, says Ibabe. Some critics have voiced concerns that it could make people more hesitant to call for help, while others argue that it could unjustly penalise those who have an accident.
Ibabe brushes off the worries, noting that rescues at sea often stem from calls by onlookers, and that the city would exercise caution in applying the law. “If there is the slightest doubt that it might have been an accident, we won’t charge people,” he says. He hopes to have the legislation in place by the end of the summer.
Laws allowing authorities to charge for rescue costs exist elsewhere, including at least eight US states. Few have enforced these like New Hampshire, where costs are charged for an average of 12 incidents a year, mostly involving hikers. The New Hampshire law dates from 2008, when authorities were scrambling to find funds for search-and-rescue missions, says Col Kevin Jordan, of the state’s Fish and Game Department.
“People who are well-equipped, well-prepared and who fall and get hurt – that’s not reckless in my mind,” he says. “That’s just something that happens, and we don’t bill for those. I’m looking for the people who, quite frankly, should have known better.”
The process is guided by cardinal rules: incidents are reviewed by at least three people before the bill goes out, those found liable can appeal against the decision, and fatal incidents or those involving people whose decision-making may be due to other factors are not charged. “If we get a young adult with autism or an elderly patient with dementia, we don’t bill,” says Jordan.
He will, however, charge hikers who decide to climb a 1,200-metre (4,000ft) peak late on a stormy afternoon with no equipment, or those who ignore the directions of emergency officials.
The legislation was put to the test in 2015, after a hiker who was charged more than $9,000 (£7,300) for a 14-hour rescue involving 50 people appealed to New Hampshire’s supreme court. The court sided with the state, suggesting it was negligent of the man – who had had four hip operations and an artificial hip that had been dislocated five times – to embark on a five-day solo hike that included several summits of more than 1,500 metres after forecasts of high winds and rain.
Calls have since come in from officials across the country interested in replicating the legislation, says Jordan. Some have been impressed with its preventive nature, while others see it as an opportunity to educate hikers on safety.
Jordan says he is not aware of a “single case” where the law deterred people from calling for help, and sees the measures as part of a broader push to keep people safe.
“It starts the conversation,” he says. “It’s got to be something pretty outrageous, but it is a tool you can use when someone really crosses that line.”
• This article was amended on 28 June 2022. The third photo shows Ondarreta beach, not La Concha beach as an earlier caption said.
