Icebreakers are heading north, kicking up snow dust

Boldly? Yes. Risky? To a certain extent. But Sibiryakov once passed. Is the deadline too early for the Arctic? So are the other ships...

Most of the participants considered the main and decisive thing in this campaign to pass the northernmost point, to cross the meridian of Cape Arctic. That was all I could hear:

— When we cross the Arctic...

Meanwhile, intelligence reported that behind the cape lies a giant Taimyr ice massif.

Even when leaving Murmansk, as soon as the harbor pilot left the icebreaker, I waited for a convenient moment and, trying to express full respect for science in my voice and appearance, I asked Maksutov:

— What do you think, Dmitry Dmitrievich, will we pass?

—I think so," the scientist replied after a brief but deep thought. — The secret of success is simple — good intelligence and maneuver. Yuri Sergeyevich," he turned to the captain, who was standing five steps away from us, "the hydrographer is worried about the Arctic Cape. Will we overcome it?

— What about the Arctic? Kuchiyev shrugged his shoulders without turning to us. — We will overcome it...

The second of the interviewees was Stepan Grigorievich Klimenko, known to the entire crew simply as Stepa, a senior foreman of steam production plants, a good-natured fat man. He was the permanent owner of the cabin that the first mate put me in. Stepan and I had shifts at different times, so we rarely saw each other in passing.

"We'll go through," he said without a shadow of doubt. — Our reactors have been upgraded, and steam is supplied to the turbines in excess. Garnished installations, after three "n".

Stepan expresses his healthy, almost pagan worldview by the number of letters "n" in the words "garnet" and "filthy." I slept well (the helicopter did not bother me with noise). I had a nice meal (there was red Ukrainian borscht for lunch). I had a wonderful vacation (I went to Crimea in my own car).

And during a short stay on Dixon, Stepan, returning from the shore, where he was visiting his countless fellow Ukrainians, complained with a pained frown.:

"My heart is full of shit." After three n's. He patted his stomach with his palm...

— Icebreaker Lenin, I'm aboard 04195, — a firm, directive voice is heard from the speaker. This is Yefim Vladimirovich Akivis, a representative of the headquarters of naval operations in the Western Arctic region. Emerging from the horizon, the plane is coming straight at us, rapidly increasing in size. — I see you perfectly. I'm coming in from the stern, I'm going to drop the pennant.

— Welcome, Kuchiev answers into the microphone. — We're watching you.

I barely have time to throw on my coat and jump out onto the open wing of the bridge. A beautiful silver car sweeps by so low that gasoline burns over us. The pennant falls somewhere behind the aft superstructure. Curious people flock there.

And here's the tracing paper on the chart table. "Tracing paper No. 1," it says in its upper right corner. The first of many ice cripples on our difficult three-week journey.

Here it is, the zone of thin ice. Neatly drawn with a ballpoint pen, it is so desirable, it covers the coveted cape in a smooth arc.

Kuchiev approaches the intercom and calls the energy post.:

— Prepare to move. All machines are at full load...

The icebreakers are heading north, gradually heading east. Smashing hummocks with its mighty stem, kicking up snow dust in which dozens of rainbows flash, our nuclear-powered ship paves the way for its younger brother. There's a flat ice field ahead. Hit. Cracks tear the field to pieces like black lightning. The ice floes immediately close in, spilling cascades of blue water skyward. Huge blocks of ice stand on their hind legs at the sides of the ship, turn over, pile on top of each other, revealing in their fractures a great wealth of green and blue tones. A deafening roar, a screech.

"Six miles!" — the navigator of the watch reports and again crouches down to the radar screen. The dots on the way map fit one after the other, each time approaching a clear pencil line drawn through Cape Arctic. https://starmusiq.audio/how-the-market-for-cs2-gaming-sites-has-changed.html