Panic began to spread in the Gulf after satellite images showed the loading docks on Carg Island empty of oil tankers, right at the main exit point for Iranian oil. On May 13, 2026, the alarm signal wasn’t a speech by the government or a public threat against Washington, it was the void in the sea.
The terminal that usually receives vessels to load oil appeared idle while a large oil slick was recorded near the island and the United States maintained naval pressure on traffic linked to Iran. The very investigation circulating in the war news points to the absence of oil tankers in the images from May 7th, 8th, and 11th, without a clear explanation of the exact cause of the interruption.
In terms of credibility, Milson Alves argues that Karg is not just any island for the Iranian regime. It’s the heart of Iran’s oil production. When ships disappear from there, the message is heavy. Either Teran is trying to protect vessels from greater risk, or the terminal has become trapped between a leak, a blockade, fear of attack, and logistical collapse. Reuters reported that satellite images showed a suspected oil slick between May 6 and 8 near Carg, Iran’s main oil export hub, with an estimated area of about 45 km².
Teran denied that the spill originated from tanks, pipelines, or local loading systems, and placed the blame on a non-Iranian ship that allegedly dumped contaminated waste. The evacuation of ships in this scenario hits the regime at its most sensitive point. Iran relies on the island to export a large portion of its oil, and the international press itself describes it as a central cargo of Iranian exports.
When the terminal runs out of tankers at the loading points, the panic stems not only from the military risk, but also from the possibility of losing control over the oil tap itself. The move comes as the United States’ presence in the Gulf continues to put pressure on the regime.
The United States Central Command stated that in four weeks of naval blockade against ships entering or leaving Iranian ports, American forces redirected 67 commercial vessels, allowed the passage of 15 humanitarian aid vessels, and disabled four ships to ensure the operation’s success. This data changes the weight of the cargo stoppage, because it doesn’t seem like an isolated event in the middle of the ocean.
It seems to be part of a sequence in which Iran is losing room for maneuver, while Washington chooses when to tighten the screws, where to tighten them, and even how long to let the regime breathe. At the same time, signs around the Gulf indicate that other governments are already preparing for a tougher phase. News reports indicate that the United Arab Emirates is installing anti-drone protection structures around oil storage areas, using steel scaffolding and barriers that are heavier than simple netting.
The logic is clear. If oil tankers are moving away from cargo and energy structures are being hastily secured in other parts of the Gulf, the market understands that the risk is not on paper. And then the fact becomes easily understood. If Teran needed to push ships away from its main export island, the regime is defending what it still has before losing more.
The image of empty cargo berths directly undermines Iran’s narrative of strength. A government that claims to control the Gulf, that attempts to use Hormus as leverage, and that threatens rival ships, should not be seeing its own terminal become a silent zone. Panic arises precisely there.
It’s not the panic of a full-screen explosion, it’s the panic of a system that begins to collect its most valuable parts because it knows they could become targets, evidence, or damage. Carg’s story helps to understand why this detail cannot be treated as insignificant. During the Iran- Iraq war in the 1980s, the island was seen as the most vulnerable point for Iranian oil.
The British report notes that Iraqi forces intensified attacks around Karg in 1984, primarily using air power and naval mines. The Los Angeles Times also reported in February 1988 on new Iraqi attacks against the main Iranian oil terminal in the Gulf. At that time, Baghdad targeted Tehran’s war economy because it knew that oil was funding the Iranian resistance.
Today, the image of ships disappearing from the terminal evokes the same strategic memory. When the KG is at risk, the problem is not just military, it’s financial, psychological, and political. The difference is that now Iran is not only facing a regional enemy trying to target its exports. He faces broader pressure with a US naval blockade, an energy market on alert, Gulf nations reinforcing defenses, and buyers trying to secure passage through increasingly sensitive routes.
In the war of the 1980s, Teran was still able to disperse some operations, adapt routes, and resist at a high cost. Now, every movement is tracked by satellite. Every tanker that is idle becomes a market signal, and every oil spill in the sea fuels suspicions about the safety of the infrastructure. The regime may try to explain the oil spill as debris from another ship, but it cannot hide the harshest detail.
The terminals appeared without the usual movement of oil tankers. Examples from other nations show why the withdrawal of ships is so frightening. In 2024, attacks from the Red Sea caused oil and fuel shipments to increase by 47% on the longer route around the Cape of Good Hope, because companies preferred to spend more time and money rather than expose ships to risk.
In Libya, blockades and terminal closures like Haslanuf eider also showed how internal war can stifle exports without needing to destroy everything. Another factor that further panicked the Iranian regime was the movement of American fighter jets to the vicinity of the Iranian war zone. And the strongest signal appeared at Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia.
According to news reports, satellite images indicate the arrival of approximately 15 F-16 fighter jets at the location, raising the reported number of aircraft of this model at the base to 53. Meanwhile, cargo planes, refueling aircraft, and B1B bombers maintained operations linked to the Middle East. The latest piece of information contributing to this climate comes from the Air and Space Forces, which reported today that the Pentagon now estimates the cost of operations against Iran at around $29 billion, citing damage to aircraft and refueling tanks at Prince Sultan Air Force Base itself.
In other words, this base does not appear as a distant detail. It has become a real pawn in the war, hit, reinforced, and maintained as a US air pressure point near Iran. The arrival of these fighter jets is significant because it coincides with other military signals appearing around the Iranian crisis.
The specialized website Itamil Radar reported today that US Air Force B1B Lancer bombers continued to conduct long-range missions, departing from Fairford Air Base in the United Kingdom towards the Eastern Mediterranean, repeating a pattern observed in recent days following the ceasefire with Iran.
And Reuters also reported today that Saudi fighter jets attacked targets of Tehran-backed militias in Iraq during the war, following drone and missile attacks against Saudi Arabia and other Gulf nations. Washington is not just deploying aircraft pro Routine. The United States is keeping fighter jets, bombers, cargo planes, and tanker aircraft in position to prevent Iran from turning the Gulf into a free zone for military blackmail.
Tehran may try to control the narrative, but it cannot control the visual impact of the empty cradles. Loading and unloading sends a difficult message for the regime to present as normal. Iran built its pressure on the fear of stalling the Gulf, but now sees its own export hub exposed, monitored, and without the movement that sustains the inflow of money.
“I’m Milson Alves, an international relations specialist, and my purpose is to keep you well-informed with the truth every day.”
