I’m writing this from a hotel room balcony in Odessa, Ukraine, looking out over the Black Sea. A few hours after we landed, the sun went down—and the sky lit up.

Tracer fire. Heavy machine guns. The crack of air-defense cannons. Every few seconds another burst stitched across the dark as Ukrainian gunners tried to knock Russian drones out of the sky.

If you’ve never seen air defense at work, it’s eerie. You’re standing there in the dark, listening for the drone engine you can’t quite hear yet, watching glowing rounds arc up toward an invisible target… and somewhere out there, a warhead is either going to get stopped—or come down on somebody’s apartment.

Welcome to “normal life” in southern Ukraine, four years into this war.

Life Under the Drones

Russia has been sending hundreds of drones and missiles into Ukraine—sometimes five, six, seven, eight hundred in a night. About every few days there’s another big wave. Most of the time, the targets are civilian neighborhoods—apartment blocks, playgrounds, power plants, shopping centers. I’ll be taking you to some of those impact sites while I’m here, and you can judge for yourself whether those were “military targets.”

Earlier today we walked along the waterfront. It looked, at first glance, almost normal- moms pushing strollers along the promenade, guys running with their dogs, people drinking coffee in seaside cafés, a couple of lunatics swimming in the Black Sea in 50-degree weather

And then you notice the new concrete bomb shelters popping up in the parks.

These look a lot like what you see in Israel—thick concrete tubes with a steel door and a little S-shaped entrance so shrapnel can’t fly straight in. You can squeeze 15–20 people into one. They’re not meant to survive a direct hit, but if a drone or missile goes off nearby, they’ll keep you alive.

That’s what “normal” means in Odessa now: push the baby in a stroller, grab a coffee, make sure you know where the nearest shelter is.

While Russia is busy terrorizing civilians, Ukraine is doing something very different: it’s going after Russia’s wallet. Instead of pouring their limited missiles into random apartment buildings, Ukrainians are focusing their own drones and homegrown missiles—like the Neptune and the newer Flamingo—on oil infrastructure and air defense systems deep inside Russia.

One of the biggest recent examples: the strike on Novorossiysk, a major Russian oil port on the Black Sea.

Moscow called that port “Fortress Russia.” It was supposed to be impregnable—ringed with their most advanced S-400 air defense systems, layered radar, the works. Then Ukrainian drones and missiles came in low over the water, slipped through that air-defense bubble, and:

• Shut down a port that moved over 2 million barrels of crude a day

• Destroyed or damaged a big chunk of Russia’s high-end air defenses

• Sent one large tanker listing badly after being hit by an unmanned surface vessel

By some estimates, that one port alone accounted for around 20% of Russia’s energy exports. You take that off the market, you’re not just hitting Putin’s war machine—you’re jacking with the global oil flow.

Ukraine has hit multiple Black Sea terminals and depots in recent weeks. People here have started calling these strikes “Ukrainian sanctions.” When Western leaders talk big about sanctions but don’t enforce them, Ukrainians say, “Fine. We’ll sanction Russia ourselves—by blowing up the infrastructure that funds the war.”

Russia still has a lot of people and a lot of guns. But it does not have infinite money. Roughly 40% of the Russian government’s revenue comes from energy exports. Every time Ukraine takes out a port, refinery, or depot, that number gets harder for the Kremlin to sustain.

That’s called strategy. And frankly, it’s a lot more moral than what Russia is doing to Ukrainian civilians.

“Why Should Americans Care?”

I know some of you are asking the same thing I see in the comments all the time:

“Why should we give Ukraine another penny?”
“What does it matter to anyone here if Russia owns Ukraine?”
“We’ve got 42 million Americans on welfare. Take care of our own first.”

So let’s talk about it.

A lot came fast in the last 48 hours: reports that Washington may stage a stabilization force on Israel’s side of the Gaza border, and a first-ever White House meeting between President Donald Trump and Syria’s transitional leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa—an ex-jihadist commander turned head of state. Let’s separate noise from signal.

“We’re not putting American brigades in Gaza. The idea on the table is a staging site inside Israel to support a multinational peace force—if, and only if, the political conditions exist.”
—Senior U.S. official, background brief, summarized from regional reporting. 

1) Is the U.S. building a base near Gaza?

Multiple Israeli outlets report Washington is exploring a large facility on Israeli soil adjacent to Gaza to support an international stabilization force once Hamas is out of governance. Early estimates: several thousand personnel with an operating bill around $500 million and a mission centered on staging, training, logistics, and coordination—not a big American garrison living inside the Strip. Key detail: Israel would retain a veto over which nations participate (for example, Ankara’s involvement has been described as a non-starter by Israeli officials).

What this would and wouldn’t mean

• Not “boots in Gaza.” The concept situates the facility inside Israel, reducing exposure and leveraging Israeli infrastructure (water, power, secure roads). 

• International force, U.S.-led coordination. Think liaison-heavy oversight and contractors, not 10–20k U.S. soldiers camping on the fence. 

My read: If a force is truly coming, staging it in Israel is the least-bad logistics and security choice. But the U.S. should condition any shovels in the ground on: a firm political framework, Israeli veto authority, strict financial oversight, and hard exit criteria.

“A base near Gaza would mark a shift for Israel, which has typically resisted international security footprints around the Strip.” 

2) Trump’s Oval Office with Ahmed al-Sharaa: optics vs. strategy

President Trump welcomed Ahmed al-Sharaa—the Islamist rebel chief whose coalition toppled Bashar al-Assad in late 2024 and now leads Syria’s transitional government—in a first-of-its-kind White House meeting. The session focused on counter-ISIS cooperation, normalization steps, and sanctions relief. 

“Today we turn a page. Syria will join the fight to finally extinguish ISIS, and we’ll work with the United States to stabilize our country.”
—Ahmed al-Sharaa, remarks around the visit, as reported by major outlets.

Sanctions: what actually changed?
Washington announced a 180-day partial suspension of Caesar Act sanctions—an extension of earlier limited waivers—to test cooperation while keeping leverage. A full repeal remains a congressional decision. 

“The suspension of Caesar Act provisions supports Syria’s economic recovery while preserving accountability tools.”
—U.S. government guidance on the new relief. 

Why this matters:

• Counter-ISIS math: The U.S. wants to crush ISIS remnants without surging U.S. troops. Al-Sharaa’s forces have been raiding ISIS cells nationwide; Washington is testing whether that can scale with joint targeting and intel sharing. 

• The risk: We’ve played “enemy-of-my-enemy” before. Tactical wins can mint tomorrow’s adversary. Guardrails—snapback sanctions, human-rights baselines, and verifiable counter-terror deliverables—are non-negotiable.

3) The detainee powder keg the world keeps ignoring

The ISIS detainee and displaced-person complex in northeast Syria remains a strategic time bomb. The Al-Hol and related camps still hold tens of thousands, including ~9–10k adult males under detention and many foreign nationals. U.S. commanders warn the sites remain radicalization incubators and breakout targets, urging rapid repatriation and adjudication. 

“Repatriating vulnerable populations before they are radicalized is not just compassion—it’s a decisive blow against ISIS’s ability to regenerate.”
—U.S. Central Command statement. 

If the U.S. is going to empower Damascus against ISIS, then the deal must include:

1. A concrete detainee plan (due process or transfer to secure, internationally supervised facilities),

2. Verified persecution safeguards for minorities, and

3. Independent monitoring tied to sanctions snapback.

4) So where does this leave us?

• A Gaza-adjacent staging base is being explored—not green-lit—and only makes sense with clear political conditions, Israeli veto power, and airtight oversight. 

• The Trump–al-Sharaa meeting marks a strategic gamble: squeeze ISIS using new Syrian partners while keeping Washington’s hand on the sanctions lever. The test is whether Damascus can deliver sustained counter-ISIS results without reverting to old habits. 

“Short-term, this could accelerate ISIS’s defeat; long-term, it will only work if the guardrails hold.”

Sources for further reading

• AP: Trump hosts Syria’s al-Sharaa for a first-of-its-kind meeting. AP News

• The Guardian: US declares partial suspension of sanctions after historic meeting. The Guardian

• Times of Israel liveblog: US said planning major base near Gaza (est. $500M, several thousand troops). The Times of Israel

Reporting from Trinidad—seven miles of chop across from Venezuela. I spent yesterday on the north coast talking to fishermen, watching the swells and the sky, and listening for the low thrum of outboards in the dark. The unofficial conflict in the Caribbean isn’t “upcoming.” It’s here. And the people who feel it first are the ones who put to sea before sunrise.

One veteran fisherman summed up the mood: “Everyone’s panicking. But the currents run west. If boats are getting hit out there, they’re not washing up on Trinidad.” He’s right about the physics—and he’s right about the fear. When your livelihood depends on a skiff and a single engine, rumors travel faster than weather.

This is what’s changed: U.S. and regional forces are aggressively interdicting multi-engine go-fasts—boats that don’t fish, don’t loiter, and don’t make economic sense unless you’re hauling contraband. Fishermen here run one, maybe two motors; the boats being blown apart offshore carry four or five. That isn’t artisanal fishing; that’s a business model built on outrunning law enforcement.

Why Trinidad Matters

Look at a map. Trinidad is a stone’s throw from Venezuela’s Paria Peninsula, with Grenada and the Windwards stepping north toward the wider Caribbean. That corridor is a logistics belt for drugs, weapons, and people—one end fed by state-protected criminal networks in Venezuela, the other pressed by markets farther north. When interdictions move offshore into international waters, fishermen feel squeezed, even if they aren’t the targets.

At the same time, Caracas is hosting foreign hardware and foreign interests, making this coastline a laboratory for great-power probing: air defenses versus fifth-gen aircraft, sensors versus small craft, and the propaganda value of every explosion caught on a cellphone.

What’s Signal, What’s Noise

• Signal: Multi-engine fast boats in international waters are getting stopped—hard. The platforms and rules of engagement point to a sustained campaign, not one-off shows of force.

• Signal: Regional governments are split. Some denounce “U.S. aggression”; others quietly welcome the pressure on smuggling routes that poison their own communities.

• Noise: Viral claims that “fishing boats” are being targeted around Trinidad. The profiles don’t match, and the west-running currents make the most dramatic wash-ashore stories physically unlikely.

What Happens Next

Expect a drawn-out maritime cat-and-mouse: more seizures, more burned hulls, and more political theater. If Caracas keeps fronting for extra-regional actors, pressure will escalate—economically, diplomatically, and, when necessary, kinetically. That doesn’t require a ground war. It requires blocking the arteries that fund the regime and the cartels it shelters.

For Trinidadians, the path forward is practical: clear, public comms from Port of Spain, tight rules for small-craft lanes, and steady coordination with allies so legitimate boats aren’t left guessing. For Venezuelans who want their country back: hold fast. When criminal economies lose their sea lanes, regimes that rely on them get brittle—fast.

A Word on Perspective

I’ve covered wars and disasters for more than two decades. The pattern is familiar: chaos at the edges before clarity at the center. Don’t mistake noise for narrative. Boats with five outboards aren’t chasing tuna. And caution tape on the shoreline doesn’t mean the fishermen are the enemy.

Bottom line: The Caribbean is no longer a backwater. It’s a contested space where currents, cartels, and great-power probes meet. Trinidad sits on the seam. We’ll keep reporting from the waterline.