Kursk, by The Vad Vuc
Water is not to be trifled with.
i.e. if it could totally destroy itself with a full payload that'd be a very bad design choice, not that there wasn't plenty of bad choices wrt the kursk.
I do remember that in the 90s the "russia understanders" were split into two camps: now that russia is free of the shackles of communism it will step into its destiny as supreme global superpower vs the soviet system was actually quite effective at large scale mundane infrastructure & logistics in a way the russian federation isn't.
By 2000 the weight of evidence was already fairly strong for the second view but this disaster, and especially their response to it, really settled the matter. This is how I remember feeling about it all anyway.
- Ohio class - US' largest: 18,750 tonnes displaced submerged, 170m long, 13m beam
- Typohoon-class - USSR's biggest: 48,000 tonnes displaced, 175m long, 23m beam
- Oscar II-class (Kursk) - 19,400 tonnes submerged, 154m long, 18.2m beam
That’s why I think even though I am only able to swim what 4 meters or something down, maybe less, 100m under the water sounds really little for a submarine. Also probably because I have no experience with submarines so I was imagining that for the most part they would be many hundred meters under the sea level.
It’s a major difference that has a huge impact on output and relative standing globally.
> Analysts concluded that 23 sailors survived the initial blasts and took refuge in the small ninth compartment at the rear of the submarine.
> Evidence suggests they remained alive for more than six hours. When oxygen grew scarce, they attempted to replace a potassium superoxide chemical oxygen cartridge, but it fell into the oily seawater pooling on the floor and exploded on contact.
> The resulting fire killed several crew members and triggered a flash fire that consumed what remained of the oxygen, asphyxiating the last survivors.
That does not suggest a possibility of a foreign rescue vessel making it there in time.
"No search was launched for more than six hours."
"It ultimately took over 16 hours to locate the stricken vessel, which lay on the seabed at a depth of 108 meters (354 feet)."
The loss of the Russian submarine K-141 Kursk remains one of the most haunting naval disasters of the modern era.
On 12 August 2000, during a large naval exercise in the cold waters of the Barents Sea, the powerful nuclear-powered vessel suddenly vanished beneath the surface.
All 118 sailors on board were lost, but the tragedy unfolded slowly, marked by confusion, delayed rescue efforts, and the desperate final hours of the crew who survived the initial explosions.
The submarine belonged to the Project 949A-class (Oscar II class) and was participating in the first major Russian naval exercise in more than a decade.

The Kursk nuclear-powered submarine docked at a berth in the Murmansk region in 1999.
Nearby crews felt two powerful blasts—an initial explosion followed by a much larger detonation—but the Russian Navy did not immediately understand that a disaster had occurred.
No search was launched for more than six hours. Compounding the problem, the submarine’s emergency rescue buoy had previously been intentionally disabled during another mission.
It ultimately took over 16 hours to locate the stricken vessel, which lay on the seabed at a depth of 108 meters (354 feet).

A 1999 file photo shows the Kursk nuclear submarine in the Barents Sea near Severomorsk, Russia.
Over the next four days, repeated attempts to reach the crew failed. The Russian Navy tried to attach multiple diving bells and submersibles to the submarine’s escape hatch, but none succeeded.
The response soon drew intense criticism for being slow and poorly coordinated, while officials misled the public and downplayed the scale of the crisis.
At the time, Russian President Vladimir Putin continued a vacation in the resort city of Sochi and approved international assistance only after five days had passed.

The crew of the doomed Kursk submarine participated in a naval parade in Severomorsk on July 30, 2000, in honor of the annual Navy Day holiday.
When British and Norwegian divers were finally allowed to help, they opened the escape trunk in the flooded ninth compartment—but by then, no one remained alive.
The official investigation concluded that the disaster had begun when the crew loaded a dummy 65-76 “Kit” torpedo whose casing contained a faulty weld.
High-test peroxide (HTP) leaked inside the torpedo tube and triggered a catalytic explosion — though the torpedo’s manufacturer disputed this finding, insisting the weapon’s design precluded such an event.

A Russian Navy sailor gazes out from aboard the Russian flagship Pyotr Veliky on Aug. 21, 2000, in the Barents Sea during a rescue mission. To the left, the Norwegian vessel Normand Pioneer assists the Russian Navy.
Whatever its origin, the first explosion blew off both the inner and outer tube doors, ignited a fire, destroyed the bulkhead separating the first and second compartments, damaged the control room, and killed or incapacitated the torpedo room and control-room crew.
Two minutes and fifteen seconds later, five to seven torpedo warheads detonated in a second explosion that tore a large hole in the hull, collapsed the bulkheads between the first three compartments, destroyed compartment four, and killed everyone still alive forward of the sixth compartment.

A1999 photo shows the Russian nuclear submarine Kursk in the Barents Sea near Severomorsk, Russia.
The nuclear reactors in the fifth compartment shut down safely. They were housed behind bulkheads engineered to withstand pressures at depths of 1,000 metres (3,300 ft) — the same standard as the exterior hull — and each reactor was additionally encased in 13 centimetres (5.1 in) of steel, resiliently mounted to absorb shocks in excess of 50g.
Both explosions failed to breach them, preventing a nuclear meltdown and the widespread contamination of the Barents Sea.

The Kursk at Murmansk.
Analysts concluded that 23 sailors survived the initial blasts and took refuge in the small ninth compartment at the rear of the submarine.
Evidence suggests they remained alive for more than six hours. When oxygen grew scarce, they attempted to replace a potassium superoxide chemical oxygen cartridge, but it fell into the oily seawater pooling on the floor and exploded on contact.
The resulting fire killed several crew members and triggered a flash fire that consumed what remained of the oxygen, asphyxiating the last survivors.

Control room, 1994.
The final hours of those men are not a matter of conjecture. At least two notes were recovered from bodies found in the ninth compartment. The most widely known was written by Captain-Lieutenant Dmitri Kolesnikov, found folded in his pocket.
His words confirmed what investigators had suspected: “All the crew from the sixth, seventh and eighth compartments went over to the ninth. There are 23 people here… None of us can get to the surface. I am writing blindly.”
He also included a personal message to his wife. A second note, written by an unidentified sailor, described the conditions in starker terms — carbon monoxide from a fire, rising pressure — and ended with the conclusion: “We can’t last more than a day.”

The torpedo room from a TV chronicle in 1998.
The salvage of the Kursk began in earnest nearly a year later. Dutch company Mammoet was awarded a contract in May 2001 and, within three months, designed, fabricated, and deployed over 3,000 tonnes of custom equipment aboard a specially modified barge.
On October 3, 2001, fourteen months after the sinking, the hull was raised from the seabed and hauled to a dry dock.
All but the bow was recovered, along with the remains of 115 sailors, who were subsequently buried in Russia.

Two hatches opened on the Kursk’s hull revealing four P-700 Granit missile tubes. P-700 NATO reporting name is Shipwreck.
The investigation that followed was damning. A four-page summary of a 133-volume inquiry cited “stunning breaches of discipline, shoddy, obsolete and poorly maintained equipment” and “negligence, incompetence, and mismanagement,” concluding that the rescue operation had been unjustifiably delayed and that the Russian Navy was wholly unprepared for the disaster.
While the official government commission attributed the tragedy to the faulty torpedo weld, Vice Admiral Valery Ryazantsev pointed to inadequate training, poor maintenance, and incomplete inspections that caused the crew to mishandle the weapon.

Salvage crews found the inner tube hatch cover embedded in the bulkhead separating the first and second compartments, 12 metres (39 ft) from the tube itself — evidence suggesting the internal door had not been fully closed at the moment of detonation.
Investigators also recovered a partially burned copy of the HTP torpedo safety instructions, which turned out to be written for a different type of torpedo entirely and were missing essential steps for testing the air valve.

Family members of the crew from the sunken submarine await their meeting with Putin in Vidyayevo in the Murmansk region, on Aug. 22, 2000.
The broader reckoning arrived swiftly. As The Guardian noted in a 2002 review of the books Kursk, Russia’s Lost Pride and A Time to Die: The Kursk Disaster:
“The hopelessly flawed rescue attempt, hampered by badly designed and decrepit equipment, illustrated the fatal decline of Russia’s military power.
The navy’s callous approach to the families of the missing men was reminiscent of an earlier Soviet insensitivity to individual misery.
The lies and incompetent cover-up attempts launched by both the navy and the government were resurrected from a pre-Glasnost era.
The wildly contradictory conspiracy theories about what caused the catastrophe said more about a naval high command in turmoil, fumbling for a scapegoat, than about the accident itself.”

Putin with Irina Lyachina, the widow of Kursk commander Gennady Lyachin, and their daughter on Aug. 21, 2000.

President Putin in a contentious meeting with relatives of the dead sailors in Vidyayevo, during which the families complained about the Russian Navy’s response to the disaster.

Relatives of the crew of the Kursk submarine are overcome by emotion during a commemoration ceremony at the Russian navy base in Vidiayevo in August 2000.

At 15:15, four hours after the explosion, Lt. Kolesnikov writes a second note, extremely difficult to read. “It’s dark here to write, but I’ll try by feel. It seems like there are no chances, 10–20%. Let’s hope that at least someone will read this. Here’s the list of personnel from the other sections, who are now in the ninth and will attempt to get out. Regards to everybody, no need to despair. Kolesnikov.”

This image from television shows an escape hatch of the Kursk nuclear submarine trapped on the bottom of the Barents Sea, as it is transmitted to a monitor aboard the Norwegian vessel DSV Seaway Eagle, Sunday, Aug. 20, 2000.

Giant 4 towing the Kursk wreck to Murmansk.

Raising the Kursk.

A general view of the Kursk nuclear submarine’s wreck at the dry dock in the northern Russian port of Roslyakovo, on October 29 2001.

Wreck of Kursk in a floating dock at Roslyakovo, 2002.




In August 2002, when official inquiry ended, the hull was transferred to Pallada floating dock and moved to Nerpa facility for scrapping.




An unidentified woman places flowers on a casket holding the remains of a Kursk submariner during a memorial ceremony at the ship’s home port of Severomorsk on Oct. 29, 2000.

A Russian boy stands beside portraits of the Kursk submarine victims in their barracks during a memorial ceremony in the Arctic port of Vidyayevo on Aug. 12, 2001.

A model of the K-141 Kursk on display at the Estonian Maritime Museum in the seaplane harbor in Tallinn.

Family members of the deceased submarine crew attend a memorial service at the Serafimovskoye Cemetery.

The salvaged deckhouse of the Kursk has been incorporated into the Sailors Who Died in Peacetime memorial complex in Murmansk. The deckhouse was installed near the Savior on the Waters Church on July 26, 2009, and opened on Navy Day on July 28, 2009.

Relatives of sailors of the nuclear submarine Kursk toss flowers from a ship in the Barents Sea on Thursday, Aug. 24, 2000, in tribute to the men killed when the Kursk crumpled in an explosion and sank to the silt below.

This October 1999 image shows Capt. Gennady Lyachin, the Kursk nuclear submarine commander, as he poses in front of the ship at the naval base in Vedyayevo.
(Photo credit: Moscow Times / Britannica / Wikimedia Commons / Russian Archives via Yandex / History of Russian Navy via Flickr).