Imagine waking up to the news that American forces have just pulled off a Hollywood-style raid on the high seas, dropping from helicopters onto a moving oil tanker loaded with over a million barrels of crude. That actually happened this week, and the president’s off-the-cuff remark about keeping the oil has everyone from traders to lawyers scratching their heads.
It’s the kind of story that feels more like a Tom Clancy novel than Thursday morning headlines, but here we are. A Guyana-flagged vessel named Skipper, secretly loaded in Venezuela, was on its way—most likely to Cuba—when U.S. authorities decided enough was enough. Now the burning question isn’t just about geopolitics; it’s painfully practical: what exactly happens to all that oil?
A Dramatic Seizure in the Caribbean
Let’s paint the picture first, because the visuals are too good to skip. In the early hours of December 10, 2025, elite teams fast-roped onto the deck of the Skipper somewhere off the Venezuelan coast. The ship had been under watch for years, flagged for moving sanctioned oil that allegedly helps fund activities the U.S. labels as terrorism support and drug trafficking networks.
Within hours the operation was over, the crew detained, and the tanker under American control. Attorney General Pam Bondi called it a textbook interdiction of an illicit shipping network. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem framed it as a direct blow against the flow of money that ends up killing American kids through the drug trade. Heavy stuff, no matter which side of the aisle you sit on.
But then the president spoke to reporters at a White House business roundtable and dropped the line that launched a thousand think-pieces: “Well, we keep it, I guess.” Simple, almost casual. The kind of sentence that sounds tough in the moment but collides head-first with the boring reality of federal law and accounting.
So… Does the U.S. Actually Keep Seized Oil?
In a word? Almost never.
Look, I’ve followed these maritime seizures for years, and the pattern is crystal clear. Whether it’s Iranian crude disguised as “Malaysian blend” sneaking into the Gulf Coast or North Korean coal ships caught in Indonesia, the oil itself rarely stays in government hands for long. The United States isn’t in the business of running refineries or stockpiling strategic reserves one tanker at a time.
“In past instances, mainly involving Iran, the oil is sold and the U.S. government keeps the proceeds. There’s a civil asset forfeiture process. We expect that to be followed in this case.”
– Former White House energy advisor Bob McNally, Rapidan Energy Group
That quote pretty much sums up the playbook. The Department of Justice files a civil forfeiture complaint, a federal judge signs off, and eventually the cargo hits the market—usually very quietly.
How the Sale Actually Works (It’s Complicated)
If you think the government just calls up Exxon and says “Hey, want a million barrels at a discount?” you’d be wildly optimistic. The process is slow, bureaucratic, and deliberately opaque for national-security reasons.
- The U.S. Attorney’s office files the forfeiture case (often under seal at first).
- A warrant is issued for the cargo, not just the ship.
- The oil is transferred—usually via ship-to-ship lightering operations—to a clean tanker.
- The government issues indemnification letters promising to cover any future legal claims against the buyer.
- Trading houses or refiners bid in a closed process.
- The money lands in the U.S. Treasury or, in terrorism-related cases, partly into the U.S. Victims of State Sponsored Terrorism Fund.
Last year alone, sales of forfeited Iranian crude brought in around $47 million. That’s real money, even if it’s a rounding error in the grand scheme of the federal budget.
Who on Earth Buys This Stuff?
That’s the million-barrel question—literally.
Buyers tend to be sophisticated trading houses that know how to navigate sanctions risk, or U.S. Gulf Coast refineries that can process heavy sour crude and aren’t afraid of a little paperwork. The government provides the legal shield, so the commercial risk is actually pretty low. The discount helps, too. Sanctioned barrels often trade 10-20% below benchmark, sometimes more.
Andy Lipow, who runs a Houston-based consultancy and has watched this dance for decades, put it bluntly: “They have done it in the past, will do so again.” In his view, the Skipper’s cargo will likely end up feeding the same complex refineries in Texas and Louisiana that chew through Venezuelan-type crude every day—just with a slightly more interesting backstory this time.
The “Keep It” Fantasy vs. Cold Hard Reality
I get the political appeal of saying “we’re keeping their oil.” It’s red meat for certain audiences. But anyone who has ever dealt with the Strategic Petroleum Reserve knows the logistics are a nightmare. The SPR only accepts very specific grades, the cavern system in Texas and Louisiana is basically full right now, and Congress would lose its collective mind over using emergency storage for forfeited cargo.
Besides, selling the oil achieves the same punitive goal—starving the sanctioned regime of revenue—while bringing cash into U.S. coffers and, in some cases, compensating terror victims. Keeping the physical barrels would be symbolic at best, self-defeating at worst.
Why This Seizure Feels Different
Most sanctioned-oil busts in recent years targeted Iran’s “ghost fleet.” This one hits Venezuela, and the rhetoric from the administration ties the cargo directly to drug flows crossing the southern border. That framing turns a sanctions-enforcement story into a domestic-law-enforcement narrative, which changes the political optics considerably.
It also explains why officials are being unusually vocal. Normally these cases stay quiet until the forfeiture is finalized. Here we have cabinet secretaries testifying on the Hill and posting on social media within 24 hours. Someone wants the public to notice.
What Happens Next: A Probable Timeline
Based on precedent, here’s my best guess for the coming months:
- The Skipper is escorted to a U.S.-friendly port (possibly Curaçao, Aruba, or even a Gulf Coast OCS port).
- Forfeiture complaint filed before the end of January 2026.
- Cargo transferred to a clean vessel sometime in Q1.
- Quiet auction among pre-vetted buyers by spring.
- Proceeds announced (or not) sometime before summer.
Could something derail that? Sure. Venezuela could file an emergency motion at the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea. Cuba could claim the cargo was destined for humanitarian use. But those challenges almost never succeed once U.S. marshals have physical control.
The Bigger Picture Nobody’s Talking About
Here’s what keeps me up at night: every seizure like this one pushes sanctioned producers to get better at evasion. The shadow fleet is growing—older ships, flags of convenience, ship-to-ship transfers in the dead of night, fake AIS signals. We celebrate the wins, but the losses happen in the dark.
And yet, as long as there’s a discount to be had, there will be traders willing to figure out the paperwork. That tension—between enforcement and commerce—is never going away.
So no, the United States won’t be keeping 1.1 million barrels of Venezuelan crude in some government warehouse. The oil will flow again, just with new owners and a very different paper trail. And somewhere, a trader is already doing the math on how big that discount might be.
In the end, the raid was spectacular. The outcome? Almost certainly another quiet sale, another deposit into the Treasury, and another small dent in someone’s sanctioned revenue stream. Business as usual on the high seas—just with better footage this time.
