Aircraft carriers, for instance, were the most significant models, from the past, of the navy’s supreme power over time, i.e., sea conquerors that could easily display a country’s domination over the other side of the earth. The USSR, therefore, was ready to accept the idea of building a real supercarrier, which would have been only a symbol of the people’s ambition, pride, and desire to match the strength of the US Navy, which was going on. The Ulyanovsk disaster could, however, have temporarily extended the range of Moscow’s naval forces, as it seemed to be one of the most amazing maritime “what-ifs” of the late 20th century, hardly surpassed by other supercarrier projects.
The shipbuilding process started in 1988 at the Mykolaiv shipyard. The Ulyanovsk was planned as an expansion upon the Project 1143.7 base and was expected to directly challenge the largest U.S. carriers.
The difference was that while in the Admiral Kuznetsov it was necessary to use a ski-jump for the aircraft to be able to take off, in Ulyanovsk, steam catapults were installed for the launching of heavier ones fully loaded, as well as for the sake of technological neutrality in performance, which was to have been an eventual increase in the operational capabilities of the carrier.
About 80,000 tons of displacement and 324 meters of length would have been what Ulyanovsk was. She was going to be among the largest warships on earth, one having four nuclear reactors that can drive up to 30 knots speed, four turbines, as well as four generators, thus allowing the carrier to be self-sufficient for a long time without needing to refuel.
The air fleet of hers was planned to be imposing: about 70 planes, among them Su-33 fighters, Yak-44 AWACS, and Ka-27 helicopters. In carrying out their functions, the offensive and defensive measures adopted both ways—from the Granit cruise missile attacks to the S-300 guided missiles (surface to air)— would have protected her and guaranteed her security while she exerted a far-reaching Soviet power.
Nevertheless, not even the Soviet surface fleet managers would be able to deny that Ulyanovsk was just steel and machines, etc. The question is, nevertheless, what the Soviets were willing to wage the competition of supercarriers and describe a challenge not only to the opponents’ military but also their political security and perseverance.
However, history did its thing. The fall of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s drained the vast majority of the Soviet economic resources and much of the political resolve necessary to finish the vessel. In 1992, the ship was only 25 percent built, and both local governments, Russian and Ukrainian, faced with increasing expenses, decided to dismantle the hull rather than complete it. The idea of a USSR supercarrier ceased to exist before the Ulyanovsk ever came close to the water.
The absence of Ulyanovsk is still felt today. The Kuznetsov, the only Russian aircraft carrier, is troubled with continuous failures, fires, and perpetual maintenance problems. It is most often escorted by a tugboat as one of the safety measures against a complete mechanical breakdown. Life on board Kuznetsov for the sailors has been a test of stamina rather than a showcase of glory.
Still, the idea of a Russian supercarrier lingers. Future supercarrier program concepts, such as the Shtorm, a nuclear-powered design, sometimes surface in studies and prospectuses. Though these are no more than aspirations weakened by budget restrictions, ever-changing policies, and technological barriers. Ulyanovsk is a ship that once haunted the ocean – a monument not to realized ambition but rather to abandoned dreams.
Ulyanovsk’s tale reflects a bigger truth: without an up-to-date and efficient carrier fleet, Russia, although a mighty naval power, cannot have an influence on the whole world. Even the most daring ventures get hindered by geographical, economic, and technological limitations.
Ulyanovsk, the ship that was only half done, is not a canceled vessel as such, but a naval dreams-turned-nightmares history symbol is what she is, a reminder that even the most magnificent naval plans can be completely changed by the circumstances’ tides.