The Russian Black Sea Fleet is no stranger to tragedy. Last year, on April 14, 2022, the Moskva, the fleet’s flagship missile cruiser, sank, marking a significant modern loss for Russian naval forces. Yet, even as the fleet grapples with recent setbacks, a quieter, somber remembrance echoes through Sevastopol. Today marks the 69th anniversary of the sinking of the Novorossiysk—the deadliest peacetime disaster in Soviet or Russian naval history.
Nearly seven decades ago, on October 29, 1955, the battleship Novorossiysk, formerly known as the Giulio Cesare of the Italian Navy, suffered a catastrophic explosion while anchored in Sevastopol, killing 617 sailors. The tragedy remains a haunting reminder of past maritime losses, and its story began years earlier, in the aftermath of World War II.
As the war ended, the Allied powers divided the Italian naval fleet. The Soviet Union claimed the Giulio Cesare as its prize—a World War I-era battleship that had served Italy with distinction. Built in the 1910s, the Giulio Cesare underwent significant modernization in the 1930s, making it one of the most powerful warships of its time. After arriving in Vlore, Albania, on February 9, 1949, it was renamed Novorossiysk on March 5, 1949, and became the pride of the Soviet Black Sea Fleet, stationed at Sevastopol.
At the time of its acquisition, the Novorossiysk was the largest and most powerful ship in the Black Sea, boasting impressive firepower and a symbolic importance. However, this imposing vessel soon revealed itself to be a logistical and operational burden.
When the Soviet Union received the battleship, it was already in a state of decline. Five years of post-war neglect by the Italian Navy had taken a toll on its electrical systems, while rust and other internal damage plagued the vessel. Without Italian-made parts for repairs, Soviet engineers were forced to improvise, adapting whatever they could to keep the Novorossiysk operational.
Over six years, the Novorossiysk underwent eight significant refits, straining the limited resources of the Soviet Navy. During these refits, Soviet engineers replaced Italian artillery with Soviet guns to standardize its armament. However, the shipyard responsible for the final refit reported that the Novorossiysk was now overloaded by 130 tons beyond its design capacity, placing its center of gravity dangerously near critical levels. Ignoring this warning, Soviet authorities viewed the vessel as unlikely to see combat and relegated it to training and gunnery exercises.
Under the vision of Josef Stalin, the Soviet Navy prioritized massive battleships over the emerging tactics of modern naval warfare, which centered on aircraft carriers and submarines. Stalin’s strategy favored large, heavily-armed warships capable of engaging in battles reminiscent of World War I. But as the U.S. Navy moved into a new era of adaptable naval warfare, Stalin’s grandiose vision began to show cracks.
On the afternoon of October 28, 1955, the Novorossiysk returned from gunnery exercises in the Black Sea and anchored at Sevastopol, at mooring buoy 3 near the Soviet Naval Hospital. That night, Captain Second Rank Khurshudov was on duty, filling in for Captain First Rank Kukhta, who was on leave, along with roughly half of the ship’s full complement of officers.
The calm was shattered at 01:31 on October 29, when a powerful explosion erupted beneath the battleship’s starboard bow. The blast, estimated to be equivalent to 2,648 pounds of TNT, tore a massive hole in the ship’s hull—68 feet long and 12 feet wide. The explosion buckled the hull plates inward by up to nine feet, sending a shockwave through every deck, from the keel to the weather deck.
The blast was so intense that it caused the bow of the Novorossiysk to flex upward by about five degrees, severing the starboard longitudinal frames in its forward section. The explosion left numerous bulkheads warped, making it impossible to seal watertight doors, which allowed seawater to flood the ship rapidly. The Novorossiysk took on a three-degree trim and a one-degree list to starboard as it began to sink.
The sound of the explosion stirred the Sevastopol base to action, and within nine minutes, the base commander had begun organizing an emergency response. However, despite these efforts, the Novorossiysk capsized two and three-quarter hours later, sinking bow-first into 50 feet of water.
For the sailors trapped inside, the situation was grim. Many clung to small pockets of air, hoping for rescue. Frantic tapping from within the hull could still be heard 36 hours after the sinking. Tragically, only a few men survived as rescue divers cut through the ship’s armored hull. In total, 617 Soviet sailors lost their lives in the disaster.
In the aftermath of the sinking, the Soviet government launched an investigation led by General Vyacheslav Malyshev, an engineering expert known for his role in the Soviet Union’s nuclear and space programs. Malyshev had previously raised concerns about the ship’s safety, even before its transfer to the Soviet Union. His initial findings suggested an external explosion caused the damage. Survivors confirmed that the munitions remained unaffected, adding weight to Malyshev’s belief.
After a thorough inspection of the wreckage, Malyshev concluded that the explosion likely occurred on the seabed. A large crater beneath the Novorossiysk indicated the presence of a mine. The Soviet Union blamed a German Type RMH mine from World War II, which had a warhead weighing approximately 1,698 pounds. These mines were widespread in the Black Sea during the war, and many remained undetonated despite post-war clearance efforts.
Yet, not everyone accepted the official explanation. Speculation began to circulate in military and historical circles, giving rise to alternative theories.
In 1988, more than 30 years after the disaster, a new theory emerged, suggesting that the Novorossiysk had been the target of a deliberate act of sabotage. According to this narrative, the explosion may have been orchestrated by Soviet intelligence itself—the KGB—to weaken Admiral Nikolay Gerasimovich Kuznetsov, a prominent Soviet naval leader closely associated with Stalin’s traditionalist naval policies.
Kuznetsov, whose vision of the navy conflicted with Khrushchev’s, found himself sidelined after Stalin’s death in 1953. Khrushchev, who preferred long-range submarines and missile warfare, used the Novorossiysk disaster as a convenient opportunity to purge Soviet naval officers who remained loyal to Stalin’s ideals. Kuznetsov and several other admirals were replaced by Admiral Sergey Gorshkov, an advocate of Khrushchev’s modernized naval strategy.
The theory, though unproven, adds a layer of intrigue to the Novorossiysk’s story, suggesting that internal Soviet rivalries may have led to sabotage as a tool of political maneuvering.
Another theory suggested that the Novorossiysk might have fallen victim to an act of revenge by Italian neofascists. Allegedly, Junio Valerio Borghese, a former Italian naval commander and leader of a fascist resistance group, orchestrated an underwater attack on the Novorossiysk. Known as “The Black Prince,” Borghese was reported to have been enraged by the Soviet acquisition of the Giulio Cesare. According to this theory, Italian combat swimmers using human-torpedo chariots placed explosives beneath the battleship.
Although no hard evidence has emerged to confirm this theory, it gained traction among some Russian naval historians, especially given that Italian combat divers were known for their sophisticated underwater tactics during World War II. Proponents of this theory pointed out the possibility of two separate explosions, which they argue aligns with sabotage rather than a single mine blast.
Several factors surrounding the Novorossiysk disaster continue to raise questions. For instance, the anti-torpedo net around the northern bay had been removed for repairs just a month before the explosion, and the harbor-defense boom was ordered open on the evening of the incident by none other than then Black Sea Fleet Commander Sergei Gorshkov. Furthermore, a hydroacoustic listening station, normally used to detect underwater intruders, was down for repairs on the night of the explosion. Lastly, the harbor security patrol vessel, responsible for monitoring for enemy activity, was moored instead of patrolling at the time.
These circumstances have led some historians and analysts to wonder if the tragedy was a result of a more complex plot, possibly involving both external and internal actors.
