Editor’s Note: Bangor Daily News reporter Nick Sambides Jr. and photographer John Clarke Russ spent two weeks in September in the Middle East with the U.S. Navy. This is their report.

IN THE NORTH ARABIAN GULF – Jason A. Gilpatrick sometimes thinks of himself as the head of a tech support department of a major corporation. He’s not far wrong.

As a computer systems specialist, the 34-year-old Houlton native manages a 35-member team that oversees the maintenance of about 2,500 computers and network servers for more than 5,000 other employees.

The difference is that his corporation is the U.S. Navy, and his 97,000 metric ton, 18-story steel office building rides the waves as the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz.

The supercarrier is “in the NAG,” patrolling the placid but not peaceful blue-green waters of the North Arabian Gulf. It’s part of an array of allied warships guarding two oil platforms that pump enough oil from Iraq to fuel that country’s economic rebirth and stability, about 85 percent of the Iraqi gross national product.

To those aboard ship last month, the Iraq war seemed far away. Several F/A-18 Hornet jet fighters cycled through daylight patrols as the ship moved in formation at the center of a ring of U.S., British and Australian destroyers, Coast Guard cutters and other support craft.

Only a few fishing boats called dhows from Iraq and nearby Bahrain – home of the region’s U.S. naval base – dotted the skyline under the punishing Arabian sun.

The ship could be anywhere in the world away from its San Diego home port, and much of its patrol work consists of routine training and tedium.

An ensign, Gilpatrick spent one recent morning before his bridge watch trying unsuccessfully to arrange a video teleconference between fellow sailor Jon Hartt and Hartt’s wife, Amy, in Hawaii so Hartt could see their healthy newborn baby girl, Nataliegh Lynne. Scheduling problems prevented the hookup, so a telephone conversation and e-mailed pictures sufficed.

Still, the war is never far from Gilpatrick’s mind.

“I feel fortunate that I am not on the ground. I thank the Lord every day that I didn’t go into the Army,” Gilpatrick said during an interview aboard ship. “Yet we are in harm’s way. There is always the chance that we will be attacked. I can sleep at night and not worry about a mortar shell or a roadside bomb going off, or feel the fear that I am going to get a stray bullet lodged in me somewhere.

“But we can be attacked,” he added, “at any time.”

It’s all about the oil

About 45 allied ships participate in the MSO – Maritime Security Operations – said Commodore Hank Miranda, who commands Task Group 58.1, one of the groups that handle the security operations.

The ships must guard the offshore oil platforms – o-plats, in the pervasive Navy jargon – that pump oil from Al Basra, Iraq, to tankers from around the world and see that international maritime law, not terrorism or anarchy, rules the seas within the gulf. That means maintaining a cordon around the platforms that only authorized vessels, mostly oil tankers and resupply ships, can cross.

It means conducting board, search and seizure missions against suspected terrorist vessels as well as offering medical help and navigational training to fishing boat captains and other civilian craft whenever necessary, Miranda said.

The peril Gilpatrick spoke of was well-illustrated on April 24, 2004, when two U.S. sailors and one U.S. Coast Guardsman were killed when an unidentified dhow exploded while the group was on a search and seizure mission.

The explosive-laden dhow was headed for the Al Basra and Khawr Al Amaya oil terminals in the gulf when coalition maritime forces and Iraqis aboard the platform stopped the attackers short of their target.

The ships also try to prevent gray-market oil, crude bought or sold illegally, Miranda said, from being shipped, and also try to stop other illegal trade.

“They like us here,” Miranda said of the dhow crews. “We give them first aid when they need it, and they know that with us here, they’re secure.”

Most Navy brass interviewed during a recent press junket to the NAG were sensitive to media accounts that the officers felt portrayed the coalition’s work as solely a U.S. venture. Miranda was no exception, stressing the duties shared by, among others, British, Australian, Italian, German, Pakistani, French and especially Iraqi navy personnel within and around the gulf.

“We are not in this alone by any means,” Miranda said aboard the USS Chafee, a Bath, Maine-built guided missile destroyer that helps maintain the cordon around the platforms. “This is the Mississippi of the Middle East. All kinds of commerce comes through here, and many nations from around the world have a stake in how this is patrolled.”

Combined operations, and the U.S. Navy’s presence, have been common in the gulf since 1948, Miranda said.

Command is shared among the multinational force. Miranda relieved Royal Australian Navy Capt. Stu Mayer as 58.1’s commander in August. His team included the HMAS Newcastle, an Australian frigate, and the British Royal Navy frigate Campbeltown, along with the USS Chafee, four U.S. Navy patrol coastal ships, and several U.S. Coast Guard cutters and patrol boats. Iraqi soldiers, as well as American sailors and Marines man machine gun posts on the platforms themselves.

American forces are regularly commanded by officers from other nations, Miranda said.

Yet the dominance of U.S. forces in and around the gulf- where fully two-thirds of all naval forces are American – is difficult to dispel.

Australian Capt. Trevor Jones, who has commanded the HMAS Newcastle since January 2004 and worked with U.S. naval forces for most of his nearly 28-year career, sees nothing wrong with that.

“At the end of the day, you’ve got to appreciate that the U.S. is a superpower,” Jones said during an interview in the Newcastle’s wardroom. “I come from a nation of 20 million people. They have about 20 million people in the state of California. You have one of the largest navies of the world, and it’s there for a reason.”

Among the things that make the coalition workable, Jones said, is the attitude of U.S. commanders.

“In terms of the U.S. naval command, they clearly see it as a partnership, not a command,” Jones said. “Our opinions are very well-respected and they are taken seriously.”

The mixed fleets intermingle well, sometimes with humor, Jones said. The Australians and U.S. sailors came closest to scrapping when the Fast Combat Support Ship USNS Bridge came alongside the Newcastle for the first time to refuel it.

Sailors from the Bridge launched water balloons at the Newcastle’s fueling crew until the Aussies told them to redirect their fire toward the Newcastle’s bridge, which they did, much to the pleasure of the Newcastle crew. The Newcastle returned the soggy barrage during the Bridge’s next visit. Both sides declared armistice soon after by exchanging baseball caps and ship’s T-shirts.

Aboard the o-plats

Whether American or ally, ships monitoring the cordon follow the same procedure whenever a dhow or other vessel crosses into the no-sail zone. The closest ship vectors toward the intruder like a sheepdog corralling an errant ewe.

If the sight of a looming behemoth warship steaming toward his tiny fishing boat fails to convince a dhow captain of his navigational error, the warship fires a warning flare, Australian sailors said.

If that doesn’t work, progressively aggressive steps, including alarms sounding, naval gunfire and machine gun blasts from the platforms, come into play. During the April 2004 incident, the attacking dhow moved so quickly toward the platform, sailors said, that fire was almost immediate.

But such attacks are rare. None has been reported since the April 2004 incident, although dhows and other vessels do cross into the no-sail zone daily, usually because of slight navigational errors that are quickly corrected.

Typically, the warships position themselves between the platforms and commercial traffic. Air, sea and underwater traffic are monitored constantly on radar and sonar sets aboard all warships. Aboard the Nimitz, commanding officer Capt. Ted N. Branch sits in a captain’s chair with large color computer monitors arrayed before it on the bridge, a few decks above the large “68” painted onto the command island.

Rigid-hulled inflatable boats typically carry personnel, food and supplies between warships and the oil platforms. Sailors stationed aboard the o-plats call the food shipments “Meals on Keels,” and the mood aboard the platforms themselves is similarly wry.

Life there is cramped, but not terribly uncomfortable, said Gary McMahon, 40, a senior chief and gunner’s mate on the Khawr Al Amaya oil terminal. He once was stationed in Bath and Portland, Maine, aboard the USS Hawes, a guided missile frigate built at Bath Iron Works.

“Our guys are proud to be out here,” McMahon said. “I think they’re pretty proud of the job they have done and the role they have played.”

The sailors and soldiers aboard the o-plats live in air-conditioned, plywood quarters built atop the platform’s steel grating. The quarters look like oversized plywood Dumpsters, with makeshift gymnasiums, dining quarters, open-air showers, videotaped movies on large-screen TVs and Internet connections that help them stay in touch with family.

The sailors describe life on an o-plat as a mixture of routine and very rare pulse-quickening alarm, such as when security levels are upped or when the electricity cuts out at night. The up-to-130-degree Fahrenheit heat is the most constant enemy, with sailors chugging large bottles of cold water to stay hydrated.

But the sailors get reminders of the war being waged on sand and street in Iraq and of the hostility that surrounds them. The platforms are pocked with holes from bullets and rocket fire, mostly remnants of the Iran-Iraq war, and when the Newcastle patrols near the Khawr Al Amaya platform, the targeting system of its 76 mm gun remains trained on a sunken crane manned by Iranian military in Iranian waters 600 yards from the platform.

No fire has been exchanged, but if trouble is going to come, that’s where the sailors expect to find it.

Another reminder: the Iraqi soldiers, oil workers and support staff who remember life under Saddam Hussein.

Khalaf A. Ahmed, a translator working with Iraqi marines stationed aboard one platform, said that life has improved since Saddam was deposed.

“Most Iraqis did not like Hussein. Now all Iraqis live better,” Ahmed said. “Few Iraqis used to own TVs. Now most Iraqi families own two or three TVs.”

Monthly salaries for Iraqi soldiers and sailors have increased several times over since Saddam’s overthrow, and Iraqi soldiers now treat Iraqis with dignity. When members of Iraq’s Republican Guard handled security on the o-plats, they would pick an oil worker and beat him savagely as a training exercise, McMahon said.

Mixed feelings for the cause

Stories such as those of McMahon and Ahmed give Maine sailors interviewed in the NAG a sense of purpose. Yet Bryce Shorette, 20, of Skowhegan who serves aboard the Nimitz, sees more to the Iraq military effort than rebuilding the Arab country or deposing Saddam.

As an intelligence specialist and petty officer 3rd class, Shorette monitors ship traffic and intelligence sources in the NAG for signs of terrorist activity, mostly the shipping of personnel or materials. He regularly briefs officers and says his own prospects for earning a commission are probably good.

“We investigate the link between terrorism and waterway usage, how they [terrorists] move around and support and supply one another, particularly as regards the insurgency in Iraq,” Shorette said.

“I’m not tracking individual terrorists. We are investigating how they use maritime trade routes, not tracking Osama bin Laden,” he added.

Terrorism, Shorette said, is spreading across the world like a virus, as terrorist groups once considered regional problems intermingle with similar groups in other parts of the world. Fighting that problem means finding the links, learning how they work, and exploiting them at the source, he said.

“Before there were localized terrorists in Ireland … now they are networking. Now it’s not just Filipinos blowing up Philippine buildings or Chechens taking Chechens hostage,” Shorette said. “[Terrorism] is becoming more organizational, which is dangerous. If the world doesn’t band together and try to stop it, it could really get out of hand.”

Like the groups themselves, terrorist logistics is branching from regional to worldwide. “Drugs turn into money that turns into bombs,” Shorette said. “We’re figuring out how they run their business and how we can influence that. We’re monitoring and learning.

“I don’t think there’s a single person out here who gives a damn about the oil,” he added. “We’re against the terrorism, we’re against the oppression. There’s more going on here than just oil.”

Therefore, the military’s work in Iraq and the Arabian Gulf is worth the effort, Shorette said.

Gilpatrick isn’t so sure. His doubts center on the main objective of the Iraq war: creating a democracy from the remnants of a brutal dictatorship.

“I’ve got mixed feelings. Now that we’re here, we need to stay until the job is finished. I won’t say I was opposed or in favor to coming here. I support my president, as everyone should do,” Gilpatrick said.

“But it would not surprise me at all if they [Iraqis] were back under the leadership of a dictator. We’re trying to impress our way of life in a Muslim nation where their beliefs and government have been built on Muslim faith. We have a separation of church and state,” he added. “That’s a big obstacle to overcome. I wouldn’t be surprised if theydissolved their democracy in five years.”

Shorette reconciles that thought with what Iraq was like under Saddam. He also doesn’t foresee an Iraqi democracy very similar to the democratic republic that is the United States.

“I think the country will be a lot better than it was before. I can’t see it getting any worse than it was,” he said. “Whatever they hash out on their own has to be better than it was … that’s worth something, isn’t it?”