Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
OK, I'm going to get up on my soapbox later on, some time. In the meanwhile, my conservative, tends-to-vote Republican-but-not-always self is going to collect my immigrant wife and go visit my descended-from-immigrants-family and think about what this all means.
Oh, and a little momento, not from Arizona, but right here from the City Of Boston...
Monday, April 19, 2010
Big props to 'Davy Jones' for correctly guessing the steaming engine in the last post was a steam winch, specifically the one mounted here. I dealt with this gracious lady for my first few voyages. Note the mooring lines laid out, implying either fair weather and a short voyage, or, more likely, the prospect of a docking the next 24 hours or so...
I love the jewel-blue color of open water in the Gulf of Mexico. I miss it, too.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
I love Gary Busey. I'm glad that there is 3,000 miles between us; mention his name, and, of the people who know of him, you will see a large percentage just start giggline, waiting for what you'll say next.
It's that kind of day. I've been able to stand down, do paperwork, and bake some eye-talian bread in the meanwhile. There is nothing better aboard a floating oil can than being able to be caught up with the distractions and the paper tornado that tends to pile up when cargo orders finally stop piling up.
By far the most pleasant surprise these past four weeks has been the impromptu stand-down time that we've had these past few days. After setting a record for the busiest tour in living memory during the first half of this voyage, we proceed into a doldrum, a time where I think our regular clientele, the cargo liners and bulkers on voyage charter, are all mid-voyage, and the next job for us has loomed just over the horizon, always at least 24 hours away.
Now, on day 3 here at the dock, we're making ready for our next cargo: a double load that will test a little bit of my mad phat math skills. If the next two grades of heavy fuel oil are the same as the last products we've received from these two refiners, I'll be able to stuff my barge full of oil and diesel, loaded to her marks and with the tanks at about 94% full, spreading millions of dollars worth of joy and sulfur fumes to all the good people for the next few days. After that, there's only enough time for one more job, maybe, before it's time for yours truly to head for home.
In the meanwhile, I have to do an evaluation for an up-and-coming trainee who wants to join us here on the floating asylum that I call my workplace. Should be interesting. High up on the laundry list of reasons why I'm going to miss my current tankerman, Scotty Doesn't Know, is my bigoted ageism... the fact that we're both in our mid 30's, and neither of us wants to lose everything and end up in jail if there's a spill, all for the sake of saving 30 seconds on deck and not lashing a valve, or placing a hand on a pipe to see if it's warming as cargo flows.
Wow, I'm getting old, I guess. I was just about to write "These young kids today..."
But these young kids today, they don't realize that one cut corner can make the difference between a job that is done safely, or, even when an act of God occurs, turn a shameful oil spill into a felonious shameful oil spill. Unfortunately, it's hard to believe that I'm not exaggerating when I say that the punishment for being responsible for an oil spill can be more harsh that that of mowing down a pedestrian while driving drunk.
I was 8-feet-12 and bulletproof, too, when I was 25. I'm just not 25 anymore.
Ugh, I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Visions of lying sleepless in my bunk, listening for the succession of whirrs, thumps and whines that sound like oil moving safely. Until I know that I can sleep soundly, when my new mate will be able to stand a safe watch and we've established trust and proof of competency on his part, restful sleep will be fleeting.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Photo taken with a disposable (non-flash) camera using chemical film to comply
with safety practices aboard.
You might not guess it, but it was about 15 degrees and windy that day. I was freezing my nuts off. That's a bumblebee in my hand. I was buzzing rust and rotten steel off of the frames that support cargo pipelines. The scary thing is that I can name every pipe, valve and bracket in this picture.
I am overweight, but this picture shows me with a Homer Simpson body. I think most of that is the sweatshirts under my boilersuit. Mostly.
Lightering. We were transferring about 150,000 barrels of cargo into the barge 'Massachusetts' in NY harbor. Again, I can name every valve, piece of piping and protrusion on both vessels... because I worked on both of them.
The Tug 'Paul T. Moran' is massive and powerful. I rode her from NY to the Bahamas, then round FL to the Gulf of Mexico, and up the Mississippi river. Awesome voyage, great people.
Some days it's just better to stay inside.
(Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web. I am not badass enough to be in THAT)
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
I looked at the weather. During the day it was t-shirt weather for me. My wife has a jacket and scarf on.
This makes me concerned in that we talk sometimes about relocating to her hometown in Brazil, where, in theory, I could commute up north for work when it's time to go to sea. My wife tells me, however, that she finds December 'very hot.' at home, but otherwise the weather is lovely.
Now, for a woman who finds 50+ degrees to be cold, I'm afraid to ask what too hot means. But I do, and she tells me that anything over 40 centigrade (about 103, I think) is hot. Under 103 is apparently pleasant. 42, 43 degrees is too hot. I'm pretty sure that 44 degrees is where my pasty ass of Irish genetic decent would burst into flames. I'd melt. I'd look like the Pillsbury doughboy egg timer that I put in a frying pan when I was a kid . (You know, my parents were very accepting of my early 'scientific experiments' providing that I not fill the house with noxious black smoke)
Yeah. It gets over 90 and I start picking fights. Maybe relocating isn't for me.
|New name||Name when sanctioned||Present owner||Present ship manager||Present flag||IMO number|
|Accurate||Drifter||Sackville Holdings Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320169|
|Acena||Iran Kermanshah||Acena Shipping Co. Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Cyprus||9213399|
|Acrobat||Devotional||Partner Century Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309684|
|Admiral||Dais||New Synergy Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309696|
|Adrian||Delight||Sandford Group Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320133|
|Adventist||Iran Madani||Kingdom New Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309622|
|Aerolite||Delegate||Logistic Smart Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320121|
|Afflatus||Developer||Ideal Success Investments Ltd.||IRISL||Hong Kong||8309660|
|Agean||Dynamize||Insight World Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309634|
|Agile||Decorous||Concept Giant Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309658|
|Ajax||Iran Ghazi||Sino Access Holding Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309672|
|Alameda||Iran Dolphin||Advance Novel Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320195|
|Alias||Devotee||Alpha Effort Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309608|
|Amplify||Diplomat||Smart Day Holdings Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309701|
|Angel||Dapper||Neuman Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309646|
|Anil||Dandy||Trade Treasure Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320157|
|Apollo||Iran Navab||System Wise Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320145|
|Aquarian||Dignified||Great Method Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309610|
|Atlantic||Dreamland||New Desire Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320183|
|Atrium||Iran Hamzeh||True Honour Holdings Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8320171|
|Attribute||Diamond||Best Precise Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Hong Kong||8309593|
|Bai Handelas||Mir Damad||Bai Handelas Ltd.||Transatlantik Denizcilik Ltd.||Malta||9148491|
|Bai Lal||Mir Emad||Bai Lal Ltd.||Transatlantik Denizcilik Ltd.||Malta||9148518|
|Bluebell||Iran Gilan||Gomshall Shipping Co.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9193202|
|Chastity||Shaafi||Ifold Shipping Company Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9386500|
|Chimes||Vaafi||Jackman Shipping Company||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9387786|
|Daffodil||Eleventh Ocean||Eleventh Ocean GmbH & Co.||Martime||Germany||9209324|
|Dandelion||New State||Logistic Smart Ltd.||Hafiz Darya Shipping Co.||Malta||9209336|
|Dandle||Twelfth Ocean||Twelfth Ocean GmbH & Co.||IRISL||Germany||9209348|
|Decker||Fifth Ocean||Fifth Ocean GmbH & Co.||Hafiz Darya Shipping Co.||Malta||9349667|
|Decretive||Sixth Ocean||Sixth Ocean GmbH and Co.||Hafiz Darya Shipping Co.||Malta||9349679|
|Gabion||Seventh Ocean||Seventh Ocean GmbH and Co.||IRISL||Germany||9165786|
|Galax||Ninth Ocean||Ninth Ocean GMBH||IRISL||Germany||9165798|
|Garland||Lucky Man||Kingdom New Ltd.||IRISL||Malta||9165839|
|Gladiolus||Tenth Ocean||Tenth Ocean GmbH & Co.||IRISL||Germany||9165815|
|Goldenrod||Lucky Lily||Insight World Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9165827|
|Horsham||Iran Bam||Horsham Shipping Co. Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9323833|
|Lancelin||Iran Yazd||Lancelin Shipping||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Cyprus||9213387|
|Lantana||Ocean Candle||Neuman Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9167253|
|Lavender||Pretty Sea||New Desire Limited||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9167277|
|Lilied||Sea State||Sackville Holdings Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9167265|
|Limnetic||Sea Flower||Partner Century Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9167289|
|Lodestar||Sea Bloom||Irisl||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9167291|
|Margrave||Iran Brave||Best Precise Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9051650|
|Marigold||Brightness||Concept Giant Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9051648|
|Sadaf Poshtiban||Iran Hormuz 26||Darya Fan Qeshm Industries Co.||Darya Fan Qeshm Industries Co.||Iran||8422084|
|Sakas||Iran Piroozi||Ashtead Shipping Co. Ltd.||IRISL||Iran||9283007|
|Sepanta||Iran Ardebil||Farnham Shipping Co. Ltd.||IRISL||Iran||9284154|
|Sepitam||Iran Ilam||Effingham Shipping Co. Ltd.||IRISL||Iran||9283033|
|Sewak||Iran Fars||Cobham Shipping Co.||IRISL||Iran||9283021|
|Shere||Iran Tabas||Shere Shipping Co. Ltd.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9305192|
|Silver Craft||Iran Kerman||Kerman Shipping Co. Ltd.||Hafiz Darya Shipping Co.||Malta||9209350|
|Silver Zone||Iran Bushehr||Bushehr Shipping Co. Ltd.||Hafiz Darya Shipping Co.||Malta||9270658|
|Simber||Iran Yasooj||Dorking Shipping Co. Ltd.||IRISL||Iran||9284142|
|Tongham||Iran Birjand||Tongham Shipping Company||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9305219|
|Tuchal||Iran Tuchal||Fifteenth Ocean GmbH & Co.||IRISL||Malta||9346536|
|Uppercourt||Iran Bojnoord||Uppercourt Shipping Co.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9305207|
|Visea||Iran Zanjan||Byfleet Shipping Co. Ltd.||IRISL||Iran||9283019|
|Vobster||Persian Gulf||Vobster Shipping Co.||Soroush Sarzamin Asatir SSA||Malta||9305221|
Thanks to Marinelog.com for reposting the compiled data above.
This list is now a month old. The US Treasury, which is in charge of seizing and accounting for the blocking of trade with companies listed as not being allowed to trade in the US, has neither made any public statement or notification on changes to the status of IRISL assets. Talk about asleep at the switch! In the meanwhile, IRISL may happily trade with US entities despite the presence of trade sanctions under the embargo.
AT LEAST 80 SHIPS HAVE BEEN RENAMED. NONE OF THE NEW SHIP NAMES HAVE BEEN ADDED TO THE US GOVERNMENT'S BLACKLIST.
Now, what the fuck is the President doing down there in Washington? I know that Iran gets about 45 seconds' worth of attention each week, but considering the slow march towards Iran becoming a nuclear power, I've got to say that any attempt at claiming that the Obama administration is even vaguely interesting in truly restraining Iran from developing a nuclear arsenal is now completely ludicrous. This isn't a new development. Iran has been reflagging its ships used in the transfer of weapons since 2008, shortly after IRISL's assets were frozen in the US. Since then, IRISL has been trading with impunity. Wonder where Iran and North Korea keeps getting those nifty Centrifuges?
In the meanwhile, I will be home for 14 glorious days, before returning to my place as the beggar king of the bunkering squad. I say glorious mostly because my bed is easier on my now somewhat tender back.
In the meanwhile, three things of note have happened in the past few hours.
1) We've got orders for cargo to be loaded this afternoon prior to a 4am discharge. This is exciting and nerve-wracking for me mostly because this will be my first cargo load post-injury, and as my back already kind of feels like ass already, I'm a little nervous. I'm thinking that the ass-like feeling comes from the yoga poses I had to do last night as part of a strengthening regime that I've had foisted upon me. I can only imagine what a passing tugboat would say if they saw me doing Dead Bug and The Warrior on my back deck. Probably call my company and request I be tested for meth.
2) I made scones. First time. they came out well, but mildly bland. It's too warm today for tea, and what are scones without tea?
3) Visitors. I've had a steady stream of well-wishers from the office staff of my employer. Kind of nice. As I've mentioned, I feel asinine for having allowed myself to be hurt, but there it is. Everyone else seems OK with how things worked out.
Monday, April 12, 2010
It seems that I managed to pull a muscle in my back. This is neither important nor exceptional for the most part. What happened is that it occurred during an exceptionally busy time, and with a VERY busy schedule. I worked a long and hard day on deck, and there was some frustration- a Russian ship with an untrained, stupid (or belligerent) and lazy crew... making extra work for me, as well as a narrow window of opportunity to get a berth at the oil loading dock we needed to... anyhow, end result is that I started my day with a moderate backache, had no anti-inflammatory drugs aboard, and, 12 hours later I could barely walk.
I discovered my employer's system for dealing with such things, and I'll say this: it was impressive and fast-acting.
Now, mistake #1 on my part. Being hurt near the port of Camden NJ. Sitting in a world-class trauma center with a very sore back is misery, and it's also an invitation to sit and wait. A menagerie of misery bypassed me at triage- gunshots, overdoses and knife wounds and such. Every time the doc or a nurse stopped by my bed, another damn bloody mess showed up and made the doc go away. I wanted to complain, loudly, but considering that I had no holes, tears or psychotic hallucinations, I had to wait my turn.
Anyhow, I was eventually treated, and released, and sent to recover ashore at a well-situated motel. And by well-situated, I mean with a diner on one side and a Denny's on the other.
Now, fast forward three days. My back feels better, but I probably ate my way into a triple bypass, at least in comparison to the somewhat stark vittles I have been eating of late.
I am heartily impressed by the system that my employer has in place for treating sick crewmen. That being said, I felt like a total dong in being part of a safety incident.
Also, everyone say hi to Halley. She's pretty much my polar opposite. Wicked smart, feminist, cute, and rapaciously liberal. All things I am not. She's also going to yell at me, I'm sure, for taking part in some sort of gender-based stereotyping because I said she was cute in my introduction. But it's true. She is. If she was unattractive, I probably wouldn't mention it, but that's because I'm polite, but since I'm also a caveman, I speak my mind. This is my house (thumping hairy chest vigorously).
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
With the extra anchor time, I was inspired to work out a little harder, and having pulled something in my lower back the other night, it turns out repeatedly bench pressing to failure probably isn't the way to care for a sore lower back. As a non-regular weight lifter you'd think I would grab onto an opportunity not to move heavy weight up and down, but no, dumbass that I am, I am now hobbling away up and down my deck as we slowly dribble tepid black oil into a rotten old reefer ship. In fact,a passing tugboat with a friend at the wheel was inspired to ask me if I 'hurt my back or shit myself,' based on my crabwalk. I suppose that my stuttering walk could be mistaken for the walk of shame, the walk of the man with, ah, buttered bread, so to speak.
Anyhow, the sad news is that my mate, Scotty Texas, is moving on at the end of this voyage, in two more weeks. I'm getting a new mate, a man who apparently is a dead ringer for the late Bob Marley. Should be interesting.
Anyhow, I'd give my left testicle at this point for a couple of Alleve. The tylenol isn't cutting into my backache at all, and, frankly, I need to save my liver for when I get home.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
When I was asked to write a review for Max Hardberger’s Memoir, “Seized: A Sea Captain’s Adventures,” I was both excited and flattered to be picked to receive an advance copy. In retrospect, based on what little I know about marketing, I believe that I was a clever choice. Ships’ libraries are in decline, but the lending and passing of good reading material while at sea is still widely practiced. Rarely have I ended a voyage with the same books I started with, and, among the mariners I call my friends, Capt. Hardberger’s works have been universally well-received.
If you’ve read Hardberger’s books “Freighter Captain” or ‘Deadweight: Owning The Ocean Freighter,” you know that Captain Hardberger doesn’t easily back down in the face of opposition. A writer-turned-mariner, Capt. Hardberger is a man who has built his career in the labyrinthine and often startlingly corrupt world of merchant shipping. In “Seized,” fans and new readers finally get an inside look at Hardberger’s eyebrow-raising and sometimes exceedingly dangerous business as a professional ship extractor, a sort of re-repo man who returns illegally-seized ships to their owners under cover of darkness, from ugly, lawless places in the developing world.
Hardberger’s early books hinted at his well-developed sense or right and wrong coupled with a propensity for retrieving stolen property, even when the thief was, say, the trigger-happy government of a Caribbean nation. An expert on shipping matters (the author is also a shipping agent, maritime lawyer and port developer for hire), especially in places like Haiti and other ungoverned busy ports where rule of law either exists only in theory or not at all, a lifetime of experience in international trade has allowed Hardberger to carve out a niche as a ‘fixer’, a man with the personal network to get things done.
The first time I ever stole a ship out of port was on the sturdy old bulk carrier Naruda, lying at anchor in Cap Haitien Bay, Haiti, at the end of 1987. (Click here to read an extended excerpt from Chapter 1)
”Seized” is written matter-of-factly, in a manner which non-mariners can easily understand, but the author also introduces the language of merchant seamen, so that by the middle of the book, even the most lubberly of readers can hear and understand the Caribbean patois and salty language used by mariners the world over. In the process, even master mariners learn just how frequent and extensive corruption, bribery and illegal actions exist as part and parcel of the regular course of merchant shipping. It’s a dirty world out there, and Capt. Hardberger tells it like it is, from his own experiences as a ships’ captain, but also as a man who must use the tools at hand to get the job done. Whether it’s hiring hookers to distract security guards, or hiring out an entire brothel to create an impromptu block party to cover up the noise of starting up and sailing a ship out of port without anyone noticing, or dealing with port officials that must be bribed in a bidding war with other parties simply to load or unload cargo, or befriending a witch doctor and underwriting the costs of a voodoo ceremony to keep port officials away from the one place they can make phone calls, Max displays the mental agility that keeps him in business in places where prison or a back-alley execution are only a phone call away.
The events described in ‘Seized’ focus quite frequently on the people who make up Hardberger’s extensive network of personal contacts in the shipping trade. His warm descriptions of the friends and associates involved in these affairs only allude to the depth of friendships and alliances- the loss at sea of a friend whose career was jumpstarted by Capt. Max is only mentioned briefly, but the terrible personal impact of the loss is not lost to the reader; Hardberger’s understated style of writing is part of what makes this book a gem. And no surprise, perhaps; coming late to the maritime world as a career, his experiences as a crop duster and high school English teacher are mentioned only briefly. The story of how a geeky kid from the Bayou ends up in grad school in Iowa, then in the middle of Guatemala during a revolution could be another book in itself- this book is about living and working in the dirty corners of the world where maritime business is mostly conducted, and how Hardberger has managed to free up ships illegally seized in foreign ports where possession is the only rule of ownership.
“Seized” contains episodic stories from the author’s long career, and these stories span the globe, taking place mostly in the places where fortunes can still be made and lost by those looking for fast money- the developing world, the Eastern Bloc, and the chopshops where stolen ships are given new identities, or where shipowners with troubled histories or high debts can sell their ships back to themselves miraculously free of encumbrance.
The stories told in this book are too crazy to be anything but true- The memoirs of Hardberger’s early maritime career, (when restoring stolen ships to their owners was a hobby rather than a career) seem to display the basis for Capt. Max’s philosophy of working a dozen projects at any one time, but focusing on just the job at hand. Although “Seized” is billed as Max Hardberger’s memoirs, the ending hasn’t been written yet.
If you're like me and don't want to drive around an unfamiliar seaport, you can order the book from Amazon.com right here.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Anyhow, I woke up tonight at 7pm to the pleasant surprise of a quiet night at anchor. And it's a beautiful night. Cool and calm, one of those nights when lights reflecting off the water reflect like beams of light, where the cityscape is reflected in a mirror image writ large on the surface. Nice.
I got to go for a walk, which was nice- usually I do little loops in a circuit around the deck edge while we're working, here and there throughout the day. I actually got to walk uninterrupted for an hour. Our weight bench on board only has 150lbs of weights available, which is a light load for me (not that I lift weights regularly, though I should), so I alternate every 1/4 mile walk around deck (2 loops) with 20 quick bench presses, going for speed rather than heavy lifts... this is something that I should be doing every night, trying to get my heart rate up and work the bugs out of my shoulders, but I don't like the regular muscle soreness that comes with bench pressing, because every now and again when I actually need to use 100% of my strength, I want to have it available...
Two people in my life, both men, both overweight, and both my age, have been rushed to the hospital with chest pains in the past month. Both were suffering anxiety attacks at the time. I'm doing the math. I have a very strong Type A personality, internalize everything, and am carrying around 60 extra pounds. Bad cardiac family history, too. I'm waking up. Controlling my diet has been the first step. Now that I'm eating a little healthier, it's time I tried to do the things necessary to live to see retirement. Unlike my friends, I can't take anti-anxiety medication and do my job. I'm pretty sure that no one wants a dude who's baked on Mother's Little Helpers to be responsible for a floating oil can... and I hear that exercise is the best treatment for anxiety. So be it.
Friday, April 2, 2010
He hadn't read my article on the gcaptain.com forum on bunkering access and ship design.
In a twist of irony, for unrelated reasons we started discussing one of the ships that inspired me to write that article.
This ship had her bunkering point above the bow flare of the ship, where it was right awkward to secure another vessel.
(Correction: The former photo here depicted another class of vessel)
You hate me. Why do you hate me?
As it happened, this same ship, when she was going in for one of her first drydockings, presented a similar conundrum for the shipyard. Pumping off bunkers when the pumping station is 800 feet away from the damn pump connection requires some innovation, and, I'd imagine, a whole lot of hose.
The funny thing is that our conversation started out in a discussion on the fate of the Quincy, MA-Built ships. All of us there, me, my friend, and his dad, all grew up in the shadow of the Quincy shipyard.
Funny how small the maritime community is. Admittedly, it was nice to talk shop while I was at home, too.
In the case of the above ship, neither of us could come up with a reason for putting the bunker connection where they did. The ship itself is purposebuilt, and rather remarkable in capability- from the Federation of American Scientists webpage:
The MPS are organized into three squadrons, each commanded by a Navy captain. MPS Squadron One, usually located in the Atlantic Ocean or Mediterranean Sea, has four ships; MPS Squadron Two, usually located at Diego Garcia, has five ships; and MPS Squadron Three, normally in the Guam/Saipan area, has four ships.Each MPS squadron carries sufficient equipment and supplies to sustain 17,000 Marine Corps Air Ground Task Force personnel for up to 30 days.
I'm going to assume that the US Navy had a reason for putting the bunker station where they did. But it's still an assumption. It's still very possible that the location of the bunkering station was added as an afterthought, as seems to be the general practice in shipbuilding.