Gulf.
Arabian Gulf. To be fair, it could not be said that the GCC sheikdoms were
free, but when he could actually view the paradox in the light patterns he saw whenever he flew high over the Gulf at night, he found it fascinating.
All around Valley Forge merchant ships plied the strait, visual proof that 30 % of the world’s crude oil passed through this vital strategic waterway. Behind the ship, and all the way to the horizon, a line of black-hulled oil tankers rode high in the water as the Indian Ocean funneled them into the Gulf to pick up loads of crude from Dhahran or Kharg Island-or maybe from Iraq. Far to the south, he could make out the white superstructure of a very large crude carrier, its hull obscured by the horizon.
One mile to port, a full tanker rode low in the water and pushed the sea before it as it lumbered into the open ocean with another 100,000-ton load of crude. Wilson scanned the deck and peered into the bridge — no sign of human life. In all his years of observing merchant ships on the high seas, even when he flew right over them, he never saw sailors on deck. For a moment Wilson wondered where the tanker was headed, and thought of Norfolk. He then noted the flag flying from the mast; it appeared to be Japanese.
Further to port, the mountainous and seemingly deserted coastline of Oman was visible, a landscape dominated by dull sandy browns and grays, with a touch of olive drab vegetation, but mostly a light beige color, or coffee with cream, which was the primary shade of the whole Arabian Peninsula. Wilson walked further up the angled deck to get a better view. Merchant ships dotted the horizon; Valley Forge was passing a blue-hulled containership that had shipping containers stacked high over all available deck space to bridge level. The officers on the carrier’s bridge had much to contend with while avoiding traffic in these restricted waters. Their efforts were compounded by dozens of speedboats crisscrossing the narrowest part of the strait between Iran and Oman. Smugglers.
Wilson got to the end of the angled deck and stood there to watch the speedboats bound north and south over the waves. They left thin, white wakes as they weaved between the large merchants heading either east or west in this portion of the strait. Carpets, gold, knock-off clothing, watches, CD’s, and who knows what else stashed in those fiberglass hulls… He surmised some of the boats were
