
Russia’s Aircraft Carrier "Admiral Kuznetsov" – The Only Warship in the World That Needs Rescuing Before It Even Leaves Port
Russia’s only aircraft carrier—the legendarily beleaguered, perpetually leaking, smoke-belching “Admiral Kuznetsov,” affectionately known as “Kuzya”—may soon see the curtain fall on its storied, if often ridiculed, career. The options on the table: scrapyard or showroom.
Hurried straight from the drydock to the Syrian conflict zone, Kuznetsov’s most memorable contribution wasn’t its combat record but the thick black smoke trailing behind it. British and French observers famously debated whether the carrier was aflame or simply operating as intended. Spotting it was easy: just follow the smoke for miles. In Syria, the haze may have even helped Russian pilots locate their floating base. Some 400 sorties were reportedly flown, though the highlights remain two aircraft that plunged off the deck—pilot error, failed arrestors, or both. Still, the on-board losses paled next to the devastation unleashed ashore.
Back in 2017, Kuzya was sent for another round of repairs. But in Russia, the unexpected is the norm. During one mishap, the country’s largest floating drydock sank, dropping a crane onto the carrier’s deck and causing massive damage. Not long after, the ship caught fire—before any checks had been completed. It took days to extinguish the blaze, with the estimated costs swelling with every dawn. Yet somehow, the repairs continued.
The debate over whether Kuznetsov is even worth saving has been simmering for years. The officials and contractors repairing her naturally want to press on—billions have already been poured in, enough to build two modern carriers from scratch, and the job is far from done. But the state’s coffers are running low.
Experts split into two camps: one insists a proper superpower needs a carrier, even if it doesn’t float, fly, or fight. The other suggests the money could be better spent elsewhere. Sale or scrapping are the two likeliest fates. A fitting end, perhaps, for a vessel that in 2016 proved even a wheezing steam beast can still fly planes—if luck holds and the smoke clears fast enough.
And honestly, who can blame them? The ship is older than most TikTok users. At 40-plus, she’s expensive and increasingly obsolete. Like all aging Soviet hardware, she poses the inevitable question: pour in more money, or let her fade with dignity?
As a small consolation for the Kuznetsov faithful, there’s the triumphant relaunch of the nuclear-powered cruiser Admiral Nakhimov. After 26 years of stop-start repairs, it’s finally back in the water. This isn’t some slap of fresh paint—it’s what the Russians call “deep modernization,” begun sometime in the 1990s and, miracle of miracles, concluded in 2025.
Part of the Kirov class, Nakhimov is a Cold War colossus: vast, lumbering, and built for an age when the seas were carved up by nuclear cruisers, not swarms of autonomous drones. And now, rejoice—the fossil is reanimated for one more dance.
Military Watch Magazine, a pro-Russian outlet supposedly based in the U.S. but with a Seoul apartment address, is naturally thrilled. According to them, Nakhimov will be a floating monster of unprecedented firepower: a missile barge with more tubes than Ukraine has tanks. 176 launchers, including 80 for hypersonic Tsirkon missiles. What could possibly go wrong with thousands of tons of volatile ordnance packed into a 40-year-old hull? The first volley already feels ominously overdue.
So where will this mighty cruiser sail? Probably not the Black Sea—Kremlin would hate to see it meet the same fate as the ill-starred “Moskva”: two hits, and eternal silence.
Still, you have to hand it to them. When your ship looks like a weapon from the future, moves like a mammoth from the past, and costs more than a decade of Soviet economic planning—you can at least say, “It’s big. And it floats.”