In 15 Hours Submarine Kursk Is Raised From Sea Floor

By SOPHIA KISHKOVSKY

The nuclear-powered Kursk submarine that sank in the Barents Sea in August 2000 with 118 crewmen on board was pulled to the surface today in a triumphant 15-hour operation tinged with bittersweet emotion.

For all the success in freeing the submarine and attaching it to a giant barge that will now haul it to dry dock, its recovery may prove to be a distinctly mixed blessing for the Kremlin and the Russian military.

Russian and Norwegian divers who examined the wreck last fall recovered 12 bodies and two notes penned by crewmen before they died, indicating that others, too, may have lived on after the mysterious explosion that sent the Kursk plummeting to the depths.

At the disaster site today, ship sirens wailed and Russian naval officers tossed wreaths onto the water before sailing away from the spot where their fellow sailors had been entombed.

The admiral in charge of the operation said one of the most touching moments was when a flock of dolphins appeared -- as if, he said, to say goodbye to the Kursk.

''I felt that this entire labor was not in vain,'' Vice Adm. Mikhail Motsak told reporters in Murmansk during a video hook-up from the Peter the Great warship near the operation site. ''We stayed true to our goal,'' he said. ''This is a worthy conclusion.''

A spokesman for Russia's Northern Fleet confirmed near dawn that the Kursk was pulled from its resting place 380 feet down at 3:55 a.m. local time and began to move upward at about thirty feet per hour. At 7 p.m., a spokeswoman for Mammoet, the Dutch heavy lifting company leading the operation, said the submarine was successfully attached to a special compartment within the Giant 4 salvage barge.

The submarine will be towed to shore at Roslyakovo, 120 nautical miles away, where it is expected at noon on Wednesday barring complications from forecast storms.

Reporters have been kept away from the operation site, gathering information instead at an ice-rink converted into a press center.

In videotape shown on a large screen at the press center today, emotions on board the Mayo support ship were evident as Admiral Motsak presented commemorative banners to the European divers involved in the operation, thanking them in English for their work. The divers will stay briefly in the area on the Mayo for a final survey of the disaster site, and drop a memorial plaque on the spot where the Kursk lay.

Igor D. Spassky, Russia's leading submarine designer, who usually speaks in complex scientific terms, first explained why the operation was technically successful. Then, his emotions erupted.

''We've lived through so much in the past year, but everything went remarkably smoothly,'' he said. ''Such emotions,'' he said with tears in his eyes. ''Thanks to everyone, and to the foreign companies, and to the officers. Everyone is wonderful. A great contribution has been made to understand why this happened, so it won't happen again.''

Jan van Seumeren, vice-president of Mammoet in charge of the engineering aspects of the operation, also came close to tears. ''We did the impossible,'' he said, choking up. ''We raised the submarine with your sailors.''

The two mysterious explosions that sent the Kursk crashing bow first to the bottom of the sea cost Russia not only the lives of 118 seamen, but a large measure of pride. Russians watched their leaders lie about the crew's fate, refuse foreign help in trying to rescue them and insist -- over the opinion of many experts that the explosions were caused by a malfunctioning torpedo -- that a collision with a foreign submarine caused the crash.

Every disaster since then -- from the burning television tower that caught fire in Moscow only weeks later, to repeated battle failures in Chechnya and now the downing of a Russian passenger airliner which exploded over the Black Sea last week -- has been compared to the Kursk as a symbol of national failure.

By contrast, the salvage operation seemed to exceed expectations, despite many missed deadlines for raising the crippled 17,000-ton submarine without disturbing unexploded torpedoes, 22 cruise missiles and twin nuclear reactors inside.

The navy reported that radiation levels monitored in and around the wreck were ''within the norm.'' Gummy sediment did not prove to be anywhere near the problem that officials had feared.

''We started to pull and there was almost no suction,'' Larissa van Seumeren of Mammoet told The Associated Press. ''It was lifted up easily.''

Mr. Spassky said the Kursk was raised ''very competently,'' with pressure applied first to the tail and then to the bow.

The severely damaged first compartment of the bow, a tangled mess of debris, was cut by divers earlier and smoothly disengaged from the rest of the hull during the lifting. It will remain on the sea floor to be raised by the Russian Navy next year. Some believe the secrets of the accident lie with it, but naval officials say they hope to find the cause in the rest of the submarine once it is brought into dry dock.

For relatives of the dead crewmen, the recovery may only open a new, painful chapter. The Interfax news agency reported that the Northern Fleet had placed an order for more than 100 zinc coffins. As the Kursk moved toward shore tonight, Taisia Paramonenko, whose son died on board, summed up her feelings for Russian television. ''This,'' she said, ''is like the third circle of hell.''