“... The last parade of naval commander Senyavin was in the Baltic. <...>

There was a storm at sea. The rain did not stop. It was as dark as night. And at night it was dark, like the previous day. A cannon fired from the flagship, demanding from everyone an answer: where are you? Are you safe?

“Positioned near the helmsman,” says an eyewitness, “the admiral placed a compass next to him, laid out a varnished map and himself directed the course of the ship, and only when the squadron had passed the dangerous reef of Devilzey, Senyavin , without going to the cabin, asked for tea. Throughout the stormy and gloomy night, with heavy rain, he continued to steer the ship. Only the next day, at one o’clock in the afternoon, when the squadron, with the continued stormy wind and rain, anchored in the Kronstadt roadstead, Senyavin, wet to the bones, went down to the cabin.”

Don’t follow him down to the cabin, there’s no need .

Remember Senyavin on deck, remember him at sea. ..."