Lifeguards denounce labor exploitation and safety breaches by contractor

A group of lifeguards who worked Ponta Delgada's beaches during the 2025 summer season came forward with allegations that paint a picture of systematic labor abuse. They accused Centelha D'Aventura, the contractor hired by the municipal government to staff the beaches, of breaking contracts, ignoring safety standards, and subjecting workers to conditions that endangered both the lifeguards themselves and the swimmers they were meant to protect.

Centelha D'Aventura, founded in 2011 and based in Arcos de Valdevez on the mainland, had won the public tender to provide lifeguard services across Ponta Delgada's beach zones. The company is licensed and has held contracts with multiple regional authorities since 2022—managing beaches not just in Ponta Delgada but also across Santa Maria, São Miguel, and Faial islands. The lifeguards who came forward, mostly foreign nationals from Uruguay, Argentina, and Brazil, chose to speak collectively but anonymously. What they documented in a detailed complaint file covers the months from June through September, detailing a cascade of failures that they say put lives at risk.

The promises made at hiring never materialized. Workers were told they would earn 1,500 euros monthly, receive four days off per month, stay in university housing, get guaranteed transport to the beaches, and work under formal green receipt contracts. Instead, they found themselves walking up to an hour each day carrying full equipment loads to reach beaches like Pópulo and Milícias. Bicycles arrived late and broken—missing brakes, with non-functional gears, and without the mandatory helmets. The lifeguards worked nine-and-a-half-hour shifts daily from 9:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. with no lunch break, exposed to intense sun with no sunscreen provided by the company. Communication with coordinators—identified as João Davide Araújo, the company president, and three others named Ivo, Miguel, and Frederico—happened almost exclusively through WhatsApp, with responses sparse and unreliable. Workers remained uncertain about contract validity, accident insurance coverage, and whether they would actually be paid.

One lifeguard from Uruguay agreed to speak on the record. He described arriving at the island to find promises unraveling immediately. "We worked without coordination, they only talked to us through WhatsApp. We ended up alone on the beach with no supervision," he said. The atmosphere extended beyond disorganization into something darker. Coordinators called the workers "donkeys" and "mules," telling them that in their home countries they only knew how to demand rights and file complaints. "It was enormous disrespect," he said. He pointed out that most lifeguards in Portugal are foreign nationals in vulnerable positions—no signed contracts, separated from families, dependent on private associations for work. The system, he argued, creates conditions ripe for exploitation. "There's a shortage of lifeguards in the country, and the system makes this kind of abuse easy. Associations win public contracts at low prices and then do whatever they want with us."

August brought the situation to a breaking point. Salaries stopped arriving on the ninth of the month. "We got nothing for the entire month—no money, no food, no place to live," the Uruguayan lifeguard recalled. "It was a terrible week. We didn't know where we'd sleep." Some workers quit and were hastily replaced. Others held on, hoping conditions would improve. Then in September, the company announced the beach season would end on the fifteenth instead of the thirtieth as their contracts specified. Many lifeguards had already changed their return flights home, spending between 300 and 600 euros each. They suddenly faced the prospect of being without income, without housing, and without any clear path forward.

Desperation drove them to the municipal government. Vice-president Pedro Furtado met with the group for more than ninety minutes and acknowledged the severity of what had happened. "The municipality was very respectful and generous with us," the lifeguard said. "They paid for housing and food, solved everything the same day, and apologized." The municipality confirmed it would no longer contract with Centelha D'Aventura and was referring the case to court for breach of contract. The vice-president also promised to explore changing how the municipality hires lifeguards in future seasons—moving toward direct employment rather than using contractor intermediaries. The complaint file includes other documented incidents, including a worker who fell from a bicycle on the way to work because of mechanical failures.

As the season ended, the lifeguards said they were asking for one thing: respect for their rights and payment of what was owed. "We came to Portugal to work, to save lives," the lifeguard said before returning to Uruguay. "The least we deserve is dignity." As of the time of reporting, Centelha D'Aventura had not paid the workers in full. When contacted, the company declined to comment.