Kursk Down (15 page)

If the champagne cork is removed slowly over a period of hours, allowing the pressure inside the bottle to gradually equal outside pressure, the gas escapes without forming bubbles. What’s left is an expensive, “flat” white wine.

A diver must do much the same with his body. To avoid the bends while surfacing, a diver has to slowly lower the amount of pressure on the tissues to finally equal that of the surface. This process, known as “decompression,” requires time. In general, the deeper the dive and the longer the period at depth, the longer the time needed to decompress. Staying only 15 minutes at a relatively shallow 260 feet requires several hours’ decompression. That’s a short work span for a lengthy return to normal atmospheric pressure.

To overcome such long recovery periods, saturation divers enter a living chamber or habitat aboard the mother ship. Pressure inside the chamber is gradually raised to equal the pressure underwater at which the divers will work. In the chamber, they begin to breathe a mixture of oxygen and inert gas, such as helium or helium and nitrogen. As their bodies acclimate to the increasing pressure and breathing mix, their blood and tissues become permeated with the gas they inhale. After about 12 hours, the tissues will accept no more gas. The divers are then said to be “saturated.”

In this condition, wearing special wetsuits heated by a constant supply of warm water and specifically engineered breathing helmets, equipped with lights, video cameras, and voice communications, divers can enter the sea and work safely for long periods.

Water entry is made through the use of a diving bell. The bell attaches to a transfer tube, which is connected to the habitat. All locks are airtight. Divers leave the living chamber and enter the bell, which is also pressurized to the same level at which the divers will work. The bell is lowered to the job site where the divers slip into the water. When they finish work, they reenter the bell. The bell is lifted to the habitat and the divers return to their living quarters. They cannot be exposed to surface atmospheric pressure, as it would mean certain death. They must live, work, and recreate at the working-level pressure.

Divers generally operate in crews of three and work four-or six-hour shifts. One man stays inside the bell, monitoring pressure, air to the divers, communications, and warm-water flow to the divers’ suits. When off duty, they can listen to music through headphones, watch TV through windows in the habitat, eat, sleep, read, etc. Electronic and other devices that might emit a spark and cause a fire in the explosive oxygen-rich atmosphere are not allowed. Immediate evacuation to normal atomospheric pressure would be impossible.

Most habitats, which are like space capsules, are small. A seven-foot-diameter living compartment has bunks on two sides and a separate “wet” compartment for sanitary facilities. And because helium is a light gas, divers’ voices become high-pitched. Vocal distortion can be so great communications are jeopardized. So each person is equipped with an electronic voice unscrambler.

At the end of a job, divers remain in their habitat as pressure is slowly decreased over a period of many hours or even days. Once back to normal sea-level pressure, the divers are free to leave the habitat and “surface.” Saturation divers are brave individuals who undergo this process several times a year and work in a hostile environment. They are paid accordingly.

20 August 2000—Rescue Site

Before deploying the divers, the rescue group conducted their own TV reconnaissance of the sub. About 0900 hours, a Norwegian specialized undersea TV camera and lighting array was lowered to the wreck. According to a translation of the Russian Navy Museum’s summary report on the
Kursk
catastrophe, this effort produced a valuable study of the broken boat. A flaw in the coaming plate of the rear escape hatch was noted. Pictures showed that the entire front end of the submarine, including the first and second compartments, was blown open. An engineer described it as being “like a flower.” The petals were hard steel, forced out and backward.

Russian investigators later scrutinized the video images from that survey with a wide range of electronic enhancements. No evidence of a collision between the submarine and another vessel has been announced. It is most probable that had even the slightest sign of such an event been detected, the resulting publicity would have made headlines around the world.

Conversely, if the bow video revealed any hint of a missile strike, that news would likely have been suppressed.

The TV inspection was carried out by the foreign team under Russian supervision. Since the divers were to work on the rear portion of the boat, most of the attention was directed to that area, particularly the escape hatch. This lessened the chance of inadvertent probing for “military secrets.”

While the undersea TV pictures were being produced, the commander in chief of the Russian Navy, Admiral Kuroyedov, and Deputy Prime Minister Klebanov, head of the Government
Kursk
Inquiry Commission, were being airlifted to the
Peter the Great
. Klebanov’s presence at the site allowed the highest-ranking officers involved to hold a face-to-face, confidential meeting.

In spite of resistance by the Russians, the divers were saturated and on-site. With the TV recon complete, Admiral Skorgen proceeded to execute the dive plan. The first team of three Norwegian divers entered the bell and it was lowered to the
Kursk
. Following standard procedure, two men were set to go into the sea.

A series of checks was carefully performed to ensure all systems were functioning properly. A second inspection made certain the flexible neoprene-canvas body suits were okay. After that, the TV cameras and lights could be activated. Then, trailing an umbilical that contains air hoses, water pipes, lifeline tethers, communications lines, and electric power cables, the men entered the water.

They expected difficulties, so were watchful of the currents that had plagued the Russians. To their relief, they were untroubled. The huge submarine was not lying at some steep angle to the bottom as reported. She rested almost horizontally. And visibility was more than sufficient to work.

The sea floor is a timeless yet ever-changing place. A current may shift and no longer roil the bottom, leaving clear water. This may explain why conditions at the
Kursk
were so different from those described by Russian DSRV personnel. Then again, while not totally impossible, such major changes are rather unlikely.

To learn more about existing circumstances inside the boat, the divers knocked on the outer hull’s polymercoated steel plates with hammers. The sounds indicated the space between the two hulls was filled with water. Conditions inside the inner pressure hull were still unknown.

Approaching the ninth compartment escape hatch, the divers made an examination of the mating ring and the hatch itself. Contrary to earlier Russian reports, both seemed undamaged. The coaming, as seen in the video, had a small fissure.

Working as a team, the two men attempted to open the rescue hatch. It held fast. This gave hope that the escape chute below was not flooded. That might mean the compartment still contained air. Excited, they attempted to vent the hatch, following instructions they had been given by the Russians. The procedure did not work. The information they had been provided was useless.

When their account reached Admiral Skorgen, who was directing diving operations from the
Seaway Eagle
, he was reportedly furious. Divers were risking their lives and the data they were depending on was utterly false. The current wasn’t there. Visibility was satisfactory. The escape-hatch mating ring appeared serviceable. The submarine rested at a reasonable angle. And they had been given incorrect hatch venting instructions.

Admiral Skorgen later was reported saying that he telephoned the Northern Fleet Headquarters to state that the rescue mission was in danger unless he was furnished with correct information. His intention was to gain the needed cooperation or end the mission. Further risking of the divers’ lives was senseless.

Admiral Popov came aboard the
Seaway Eagle
for a personal meeting with Admiral Skorgen. The two strong military leaders possessed very different temperaments. Popov has been described as volatile, Skorgen as tactful but direct.

There is, however, a great commonality between military officers who are seasoned leaders. They may be from different nations, but their characters have been forged on similar anvils of discipline and duty. That background gives them a unique basis for communicating with each other.

To the Russian, the political implications of this meeting were staggering. What if Skorgen terminated his operation? What if he took his small command back to Norway? The Russian media was already criticizing the Navy and the government for being slow to accept foreign assistance. Now, that aid had arrived on the scene. If the foreigners ended their rescue efforts because their divers were endangered by faulty information provided by the Navy, well . . . An enraged press would crucify any and all involved.

There was also another reality. Russian rescue attempts to enter the
Kursk
had failed. There was no indication further attempts would produce success. Good military leaders are objective and pragmatic. Chances were slim, but there might be crew members alive. If anyone was still living, time was running out. Survivors could not last much longer. On a humanitarian basis, then, logic demanded allowing Skorgen’s team to do what they had come to do.

Admiral Popov made a decision that convinced Admiral Skorgen they had matching priorities. Acting quickly, Popov arranged for a helicopter to take two of the group’s diving specialists and an interpreter to the Russian sub base at Vidyaevo. There, they were escorted aboard an Oscar II-class submarine, a sister Project 949-A boat to the
Kursk
. They received a hands-on demonstration of the rescue system and were able to study the involved mechanisms. After working all night, they were satisfied. At 0600 hours they returned to the
Seaway Eagle
where they gave a cram course to the divers.

Meantime, a member of the British
LR-5
submersible team was “revolted” to hear the Russians claim they had done everything they could to help the
Kursk
. Arriving with one of the most sophisticated vessels in Europe, which had been designed specifically for rescuing men from sunken submarines, the English team was excluded from the action. “Bitterly disappointed,” they had no alternative but to hold station miles from the main activity.

Murmansk Area

The three-star Polyarnye Zori Hotel, located in the center of the city, was some 40 minutes from the Murmansk airport. With seven stories and 199 rooms, it offered a fine view of the Kola fjord. The hotel was a major center for cultural and business activities. It is sited near the Ice Palace, the theater, the art museum, the Museum of Local Lore, and is close to the Navy Museum. For foreigners, a double room, breakfast buffet included, ran about $100 per night. Russian citizens paid approximately half that amount.

On August 20, the majority of the guests were non-Russian. Most of the rooms were taken by foreigners. The same was true at the other three-star lodging, the Arktika, and for the rest of the even halfway decent hotel rooms in the city.

It was not a deluge of tourists, because Murmansk is hardly a tourist haven. In this city of almost a half million, the climate is cold, life is hard, and petty crime was said to be on the rise. The out-of-towners were members of the news media and they had descended on the town like kids flocking to a circus.

Murmansk is the largest Russian seaport on the Arctic Ocean. Ice-free, it can remain open the entire year and is in the center of the Northern Fleet’s many bases. The streets reflected the city’s strong maritime tradition. Those same streets also carried a reminder of the number of exhausted nuclear reactors from military ships that have been dumped in the shallow waters, awaiting proper disposal. Radiation counters were located at busily trafficked intersections. And radio stations regularly included radiation levels as part of the weather reports.

Newspaper and electronic media reporters had gathered in Murmansk because that was as close to the rescue site as most could get. Only the Russian state-controlled TV network, RTR, was allowed to broadcast and tape from sea. The nearby home port of the
Kursk
, Vidyaevo, was off-limits to outsiders and guarded by the military.

The disgruntled reporters had little to do except haunt the train station and airport. They questioned travelers, hoping to find relatives of
Kursk
crew members. They also attended the irregularly held press briefings. Since there were few people to interview, they spent most of their time talking with each other. These conversations became incestuous. Someone had a theory about what was really happening. A second person heard it, expanded on it, and it circulated, growing larger and larger until it was replaced by the next new notion.

The press confusion, replete with the government and Navy issuing conflicting stories, had worsened. Disinformation led to a complete distrust of “official” spokespersons.

Many seasoned reporters on this story could remember the days of total Soviet press control. Released from old constraints, they were anxious to cover this breaking event from every angle. They feared that the constant flow of garbled misinformation was a deliberate attempt by officials to keep the issue confused. In other words, it was a cover-up.

The rumor-makers went at it again: the Northern Fleet had shot itself in the foot. They sank the
Kursk
with their own missile. Official denials did nothing to quell the missile theory. In fact, by sticking with the collision-with-foreign-sub position, in the face of no evidence, those who wanted to believe the missile concept were given fresh hope. And they dug deeper to find proof.

A horde of reporters with too little to do tends to ponder every fact. If there was the slightest discrepancy between press releases or comments from officials, it was detected and publicly displayed.