the appearance of an effort to save lives.
Press notification merited top attention. The first question that would be asked by the news media was obvious. What had happened? The initial answer to that query was established. The
Kursk
was lost because of a collision with a foreign vessel—probably a submarine. When the time came to inform the press, the collision response had to be introduced by high-ranking individuals. This would serve to increase the veracity of that position. No less a personage than Deputy Prime Minister Ilya Klebanov, who was soon to be named chief of the government commission appointed to investigate the disaster, was one of the earliest, if not the first, proponents of the collision theory in the media.
The “foreign sub” story had to be uppermost in everyone’s mind during this operation, because any hard evidence that could support the collision theory would make that position more believable. So every opportunity to search for “proof” had to be taken.
A well-conceived political damage-control program must also offer other reasonable explanations for the disaster. These help create a diversity of public opinion, thus confusing the issue. Alternate causes also provide failsafe positions in case the main theory does not catch on or cannot be proven. There was only one prime requirement for all the officially recognized possibilities. None could cast blame on the Navy or Russian government.
For certain, the press was going to demand answers. And if enough facts were not forthcoming, reporters would dig until some were found—or worse, use flights of fancy to explain the cause of the catastrophe.
Another burning problem came from the ever-present danger of leakage from a damaged nuclear reactor. While the disaster was bad enough, the situation would grow far worse if there was nuclear contamination. Release of radiation was of immediate importance because the Barents Sea was one of the world’s most productive fishing areas.
The Navy would be in a much stronger position if positive assurances of proper reactor shutdown could be given as part of the initial release. This produced an urgent need to collect samples of seawater and metal from the
Kursk
’s hull. These specimens could then be analyzed to determine if any danger existed. So sample gathering was an important part of the rescue effort.
In the early evening hours of Sunday, August 13, as activity at the
Kursk
site was building, Admiral Popov appeared on Russian national TV. From the deck of the
Peter the Great
, he declared that the Northern Fleet’s sea war games had been a resounding success. No mention was made of the
Kursk
.
Popov’s televised comments of that night would be remembered later and cause a major backlash. The official explanation for this seemingly devious act was that Popov’s remarks had been recorded earlier, before the
Kursk
disaster, and played on the Sunday show. That story is most likely true. No one, however, canceled the use of this prerecorded tape, which plainly shows a tendency to manipulate the news. And inadvertently or on purpose, that is precisely what was to happen.
2240 Hours—On Board the Rudnitsky
AS-32
, the second DSRV, was successfully deployed over the side. Her mission was to get close-up television pictures of the wreck and especially the escape hatch to the ninth compartment.
During the next two and a half hours, the crew, hampered by poor visibility, made several descents. Proceeding cautiously, to minimize damage to their boat if they collided with the lost sub, they searched quadrant after quadrant. In spite of known precise coordinates,
AS-32
, for some unexplained reason, failed to make visual contact with its target.
Pressure to hurry the rescue effort was growing by the hour. So the now-repaired
AS-34
submersible was rushed back into action.
The crew once again managed to locate the downed submarine, but was forced to resurface because of drained batteries. This
Press notification merited top attention. The first question that would be asked by the news media was obvious. What had happened? The initial answer to that query was established. The
Kursk
was lost because of a collision with a foreign vessel—probably a submarine. When the time came to inform the press, the collision response had to be introduced by high-ranking individuals. This would serve to increase the veracity of that position. No less a personage than Deputy Prime Minister Ilya Klebanov, who was soon to be named chief of the government commission appointed to investigate the disaster, was one of the earliest, if not the first, proponents of the collision theory in the media.
The “foreign sub” story had to be uppermost in everyone’s mind during this operation, because any hard evidence that could support the collision theory would make that position more believable. So every opportunity to search for “proof” had to be taken.
A well-conceived political damage-control program must also offer other reasonable explanations for the disaster. These help create a diversity of public opinion, thus confusing the issue. Alternate causes also provide failsafe positions in case the main theory does not catch on or cannot be proven. There was only one prime requirement for all the officially recognized possibilities. None could cast blame on the Navy or Russian government.
For certain, the press was going to demand answers. And if enough facts were not forthcoming, reporters would dig until some were found—or worse, use flights of fancy to explain the cause of the catastrophe.
Another burning problem came from the ever-present danger of leakage from a damaged nuclear reactor. While the disaster was bad enough, the situation would grow far worse if there was nuclear contamination. Release of radiation was of immediate importance because the Barents Sea was one of the world’s most productive fishing areas.
The Navy would be in a much stronger position if positive assurances of proper reactor shutdown could be given as part of the initial release. This produced an urgent need to collect samples of seawater and metal from the
Kursk
’s hull. These specimens could then be analyzed to determine if any danger existed. So sample gathering was an important part of the rescue effort.
In the early evening hours of Sunday, August 13, as activity at the
Kursk
site was building, Admiral Popov appeared on Russian national TV. From the deck of the
Peter the Great
, he declared that the Northern Fleet’s sea war games had been a resounding success. No mention was made of the
Kursk
.
Popov’s televised comments of that night would be remembered later and cause a major backlash. The official explanation for this seemingly devious act was that Popov’s remarks had been recorded earlier, before the
Kursk
disaster, and played on the Sunday show. That story is most likely true. No one, however, canceled the use of this prerecorded tape, which plainly shows a tendency to manipulate the news. And inadvertently or on purpose, that is precisely what was to happen.
2240 Hours—On Board the Rudnitsky
AS-32
, the second DSRV, was successfully deployed over the side. Her mission was to get close-up television pictures of the wreck and especially the escape hatch to the ninth compartment.
During the next two and a half hours, the crew, hampered by poor visibility, made several descents. Proceeding cautiously, to minimize damage to their boat if they collided with the lost sub, they searched quadrant after quadrant. In spite of known precise coordinates,
AS-32
, for some unexplained reason, failed to make visual contact with its target.
Pressure to hurry the rescue effort was growing by the hour. So the now-repaired
AS-34
submersible was rushed back into action.
The crew once again managed to locate the downed submarine, but was forced to resurface because of drained batteries. This
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