Cruise Crime: Is Your Vacation Safe? The FBI Steps In.

When Kenneth DiGiorgio allegedly assaulted someone aboard a cruise ship bound for San Juan, Puerto Rico, on March 31, 2025, he likely didn’t expect the full weight of federal law to crash down on him. Yet, on April 3, the FBI announced his arrest, charging him under Title 18 for assault within the maritime and territorial jurisdiction of the United States. This isn’t just another crime story; it’s a vivid reminder that no one escapes justice, not even on the open water, where the illusion of lawlessness has too long shielded bad actors.

For years, cruise ships have floated in a gray zone, their glitzy decks and endless buffets masking a darker reality: violent crime isn’t rare at sea. The arrest of DiGiorgio, as Acting Special Agent in Charge Devin J. Kowalski put it, sends a clear message: break the law at sea, and you’ll face consequences on land. It’s a stance that resonates deeply with those of us who’ve watched the cruise industry dodge accountability, leaving victims to fend for themselves while corporate profits soar.

This case isn’t an anomaly; it’s a spark. It ignites a broader conversation about safety, oversight, and the urgent need to protect passengers, especially the most vulnerable, from the chaos that can erupt when alcohol flows freely and security lags behind. DiGiorgio’s arrest isn’t just a win for the FBI; it’s a victory for every person who believes justice shouldn’t stop at the shoreline.

The FBI’s jurisdiction over this incident hinges on a framework that’s been painstakingly built to close loopholes. Under Title 18, Section 7, the U.S. claims authority over crimes within 12 nautical miles of its waters, involving American nationals, or on ships tied to U.S. ports. The Cruise Vessel Security and Safety Act of 2010 sharpened this focus, mandating that serious crimes, like the assault DiGiorgio is charged with, get reported directly to the FBI. It’s a system designed to ensure that no one slips through the cracks, no matter where the ship sails.

Look at the numbers, and the stakes become undeniable. In 2024, Carnival Cruise Line alone reported 18 physical assaults causing serious injury and 39 sexual assaults, outpacing competitors like Royal Caribbean despite fewer passengers. These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re symptoms of a broader failure. Excessive alcohol consumption, lax security, and a culture of impunity have turned too many cruises into floating petri dishes for violence. DiGiorgio’s case, unfolding on a ship en route to San Juan, underscores why federal intervention isn’t optional; it’s essential.

Critics, often cozy with the cruise industry’s bottom line, argue that federal oversight oversteps, that these ships, many foreign-flagged, fall outside U.S. control. They’re wrong. When a vessel docks in a U.S. port, like San Juan, or carries American passengers, it’s not just a business; it’s a space where our laws apply. To suggest otherwise is to hand a free pass to every predator who thinks the high seas are a consequence-free playground. The FBI’s swift action here proves that justice doesn’t bend for corporate convenience.

Historical precedent backs this up. Since the 2010 Act, the U.S. has steadily expanded its reach, responding to a grim legacy of unreported crimes and unpunished offenders. Puerto Rico, with its federal court system under the U.S. Attorney’s Office, stands as a critical hub for these prosecutions, despite grumbling from those who see it as colonial overreach. Far from an imposition, this structure delivers accountability where local systems, strained and under-resourced, often can’t.

DiGiorgio’s arrest also shines a light on the FBI’s partnership with the public. The call for tips via their San Juan Field Office and the Internet Crime Complaint Center isn’t just procedural; it’s a lifeline. It’s how everyday people, not just agents, help stitch together the evidence that holds perpetrators accountable. This isn’t bureaucracy; it’s democracy in action.

Let’s not kid ourselves: one arrest doesn’t fix a broken system. The cruise industry rakes in billions while passengers face risks that would spark outrage on land. Sexual assaults, the most reported crime on these ships, hit 131 cases in 2023, with Carnival leading the pack year after year. Physical assaults, like the one DiGiorgio’s charged with, aren’t far behind. These aren’t accidents; they’re the predictable fallout of an industry that prioritizes margarita sales over meaningful security.

Advocates for passenger safety have long demanded reform: stricter alcohol limits, better-trained security teams, and real-time reporting that doesn’t let crimes vanish into the ship’s log. DiGiorgio’s case could push that needle forward, proving that federal muscle can force change. It’s not enough to catch the bad guys after the fact; we need to stop them before the damage is done. That’s the liberal vision here, one rooted in protecting people, not profits.

Those defending the status quo, often industry lobbyists or their allies, claim tighter rules would sink the cruise economy. They paint a picture of lost jobs and shuttered ports. It’s a tired scare tactic. Stronger oversight doesn’t kill business; it builds trust. Passengers who feel safe spend more, not less. The real threat to the industry isn’t regulation; it’s the headlines of violence that keep piling up, unchecked.

Kenneth DiGiorgio’s arrest isn’t the end of this story; it’s a beginning. It’s a signal to every passenger stepping onto a cruise ship that the law doesn’t vanish when the shore fades from view. It’s a promise that the FBI, backed by a public ready to speak up, will chase justice wherever it leads. For the people of Puerto Rico, where this case lands, it’s also a chance to see federal power wielded not as a colonial cudgel, but as a shield for the vulnerable.

This moment demands we keep pushing. The fight isn’t just about one man facing charges; it’s about dismantling a culture that’s let too many victims slip through the cracks. We owe it to them, and to ourselves, to demand a sea change, one where safety isn’t a luxury add-on but a fundamental right. DiGiorgio’s day in court could be the wake-up call we’ve been waiting for, if we refuse to let it fade into the waves.