SHIP: Descending to the lower deck, we find ourselves in the engine room – the place where the ship’s heart beats at its strongest rhythm. It is quiet now, and inside you will find two exclusive Maybach products – the MTU engines. The Germans had a tradition of naming their engines. The “Sūduvis” engines also have their names: the first one is Bianca, the second is Silvia. Each has 16 cylinders and generates 2,600 horsepower. These engines are my driving force. I can reach speed of as high as 16 knots, or approximately 30 km/h. In fact, at top speed, I would consume about 700 litres of diesel fuel every hour. At low speed, I needed about 200 litres. Everything here was pulsating with life.

Background sound: calling one of the crew members: “Chief of the electromechanical combat unit, stand by. I repeat: “Chief of the electromechanical combat unit, stand by”.

CHIEF OF THE ELECTROMECHANICAL COMBAT UNIT 1: Indeed, our work was invisible. If we did a good job, nobody even knew we existed. But if something went wrong, it was found out instantly. It’s like a galley: if the food is bad, everyone is unhappy within minutes. The same with us – a fault in the electrical power supply or a broken pipe in the seamen’s head (meaning the ship’s toilet) would quickly remind the crew of our presence. My name is Justas Žaglinskis, the last commander of the electro-mechanical combat unit on board “Sūduvis”; served from 2018 to 2019. I grew up in Šiauliai District, a small town called Gruzdžiai. I entered to study at a higher education institution in Klaipėda – because I liked the city. I studied Maintenance of Ship Power Equipment, or Ship Mechanics at Klaipėda University and chose the path of a researcher. Only after that I decided to serve on a ship. Civil shipping did not hook me, but military shipping and warships were much more appealing, as I had also graduated from the young officers’ courses. I wanted to start right after graduating my Bachelor degree studies, but the circumstances did not work out. When circumstances changed again, I dusted off my junior officer’s diploma. There was an option of more comfortable patrol vessels, but I decided to start my career with “Sūduvis”.
CHIEF OF THE ELECTROMECHANICAL COMBAT UNIT 2: And I am Tomas Abromavičius, the chief of the electromechanical combat unit of the ship “Sūduvis”, who served in the period between 2009 and 2013.We used to depart for a month or longer. I didn’t get seriously seasick, I only had a headache, I wanted to eat, that’s all. Everyone experiences sea-sickness differently. I remember, in a big swell, all the wood would crack, just like on yachts. When there was a big storm, there was a feeling of fear that the ship would break.
CHIEF OF THE ELECTROMECHANICAL COMBAT UNIT 1: The last long voyage from Tallinn was difficult. Breakdowns followed one by one, and the ship seemed to be trying her best not to give up. The intercooler was leaking water into the cylinders, the steering wheel was breaking down and the propellers were vibrating strongly. Even when we went to sea after the repairs, we had a near-fire event – the leak between the turbocharger and the exhaust manifold occurred, which led to lubricating oil leakage on the manifold, which was red-hot. That case was the last. It was decided that “Sūduvis” needs to rest.

Background sound: “Your watch is over.”

SHIP: My days were counted. Old and tired, I finally rested.

SHIP: Let’s head towards the galley.

SHIP: Here is the ship’s functionality room, the control centre, whose importance is highlighted at critical moments. It is where decisions are made that can determine the fate of the ship in the event of fire or water intrusion. Regular maintenance and repair work become routine, and unexpected repairs often determine the ship’s functionality at sea. A small workshop with tools and spare parts nearby can be the last hope in the event of a breakdown. The duty watch service staff monitor and control the condition of the machinery, while the ship’s emergency alarms instantly warn of dangers.

SHIP: We are in the first crew’s quarter – now, this place looks different from when I was still crossing the waters. This cosy room was once home to nine crew members, with their beds, lockers and a simple table. In 1999, when the ship returned to Lithuania, it was accommodated by members of various combat units on compulsory service. However, over time, for security reasons, they were moved deeper inside the ship, into the second crew’s quarter. Later, the electromechanical combat unit took over this place, which was strategically more convenient as the engine room was right next door. The crew used to spend their leisure time here, resting and having lunch. Being the most spacious room on the ship, it was usually used for crew meetings to discuss work-related matters.

Background sound: calls one of the crew members “Team of systems engineers, stand by! A chief of the team of systems engineers and a systems engineer, stand by! Repeat: “A chief of the team of systems engineers and a systems engineer, stand by!”

SYSTEMS ENGINEER: The life at sea is beautiful if you are not seasick. Sickness caused by the waves and smells makes you feel sick for 3–4 days and you do not want to eat or drink anything, only feel nauseous. And now, standing on the ship, you can probably sense the smell that has soaked into the walls of the boat over the years – the smell of diesel and oil.
CHIEF SYSTEMS ENGINEER: When you were running to the broadside, everyone would say: “Keep Kiela from falling overboard!”
SYSTEMS ENGINEER: My name is Andrius Kiela, I have served on board the ship “Sūduvis” as a systems engineer for eight years. I started my service on “Sūduvis” in 2006 as a member of compulsory military service and served as a motor-mechanic for 9 months. After a couple of months, in 2007, I started my professional service. The first time I stepped aboard after those few months in the woods, everything turned 180 degrees, a completely different service. And then this ship “Sūduvis” got so much ‘stuck’ to me that I didn’t want to go anywhere else. The only thing that saved me from seasickness was the medication and the quietness in the first crew’s quarter. This part of the ship underwent the weakest swell, and it just so happened that this was where I lived.
CHIEF SYSTEMS ENGINEER: I am Darius Auškelis, a chief of the team of systems engineers. My service in the Navy started in 1998 when I was called up for compulsory military service. As I had a maritime education diploma, this was my ticket to the Navy. After half a year in the service, in 1999, I received an offer from the ship’s electromechanical combat unit commander-to-be to join the newly formed crew of “Sūduvis”. I served on “Sūduvis” from the start of her navigation in 1999 until the decommissioning of the ship, including a break of four years. In 2021, I had to lower the ship’s flag for the last time. It was not easy to say goodbye to the ship after so many years I have dedicated to her. The ship has become a big part of my life. I was under the command of the chief of the electromechanical combat unit, and a systems engineer was subordinate to me. 
SYSTEMS ENGINEER: It was me. 
CHIEF SYSTEMS ENGINEER: Yes, we worked together. Andrius was always a type of man who prefers talking over eating. But we worked in a focused manner, dealing with the assigned tasks and occurring challenges.
CHIEF SYSTEMS ENGINEER: I had a small old German book that we used to keep in the ship’s functionality room. It depicted all the systems: water, fuel, air, oil – it was like our ‘Bible’. This book has experienced much more than some of our crew members.
SYSTEMS ENGINEER: The tanks at “Sūduvis” were of vital importance: 32.6 tons of fuel, 1.25 tons of oil and 12.5 tons of fresh water. Water had to be economised on long voyages – only cooks, medical staff and motor-mechanics could use the showers due to the nature of their work. The rest of us had to live without them. But somehow we didn’t make a big deal of it. The ship was cosy. When I think about those times, it seems that “Sūduvis” was like the first love – the love you can never forget.

Background sound: “Your watch has ended.”

SHIP: Let’s move on.

SHIP: There is a small room next to the first crew’s quarter – it’s a divers’ room. When the ship would embark on longer voyages of three months or more, the diving team would join the crew. All their equipment was stored in there: compressed air tanks, breathing regulators, diving suits and other vital tools. The divers were responsible for neutralising anchor mines, torpedoes and bottom mines. They also acted as rescuers in case someone accidentally fell overboard. This place on board was theirs, like a small harbour to which they were constantly returning from the depths of the water.

Background sound: calls one of the crew members: “Chief supply officer, prepare for the reception. I repeat: “Chief supply officer, prepare for the reception”.

CHIEF SUPPLY OFFICER: We are on the main deck; much time has been spent here. I am Vitalijus Aleksandravičius, the ship’s boatswain. I have been a part of this ship for ten years, since 1999, when we brought her to Lithuania.

CHIEF SUPPLY OFFICER: I miss that youth, when we felt like being immortal, everything was interesting, we had fun, though we knew each other’s limits and didn’t cross them. At sea, we were not only sailors, but also a team working towards a common goal, bound together by work and belief in what we were doing. When someone didn’t do his job, it affected all of us: one person’s negligence could undermine the efforts of five or six people. Doing our jobs honestly and responsibly was like an unwritten rule that we all felt deep in our hearts. There was no room for simulation. The ship was our home and the sea was what connected us.

Background sound: “Your service is over.”

SHIP: Let’s head towards the stern of the ship.

SHIP: We approached an afterdeck. Two underwater robots rest here, waiting to be released into the deep, mysterious sea. Their task is to submerge into the darkness, where the human eye can never reach, and identify what lies beneath, on the seabed. A crane situated on the afterdeck gently lowers them into the water like using a hand, and then gently and slowly returns them to a safe place. This crane is not only a tool, but also a bridge connecting different worlds: the ship and the depths of the sea, the ship and the outside world. The crane carried food supplies on board, lifted boats, rafts or other heavy objects off the boat deck.

CHIEF SUPPLY OFFICER: Mooring of the ship is art and I have always been engaged in it: watching from the deck, letting us to know when we were getting too close. Nevertheless, even the most experienced commanders have left a mark – a small dent in the bow. All the commanders of “Sūduvis” knew which dent was theirs, and they would tell me about it with a smile.

SHIP: Every dent is a silent mark of history. Ships, like people, carry the weight of all the moments of the past. But at the same time, every bump, every mark, every calm day at sea joins the great ocean of history, where every event is a wave that leaves its mark on the shores of eternity.

SHIP: Let’s go inside the ship.

PROLOGUE: Today, you will embark on the story of the “SAGA OF THE SEA”, an audio time travel to the life of the museum ship M52 “Sūduvis”. This audio experience tells the story of the ship’s history, her mission and her adventures at seas. The ship, as a character, invites you to explore her past – from the service in Germany to the arrival in Lithuania. The audio narrative of the journey in time is made up of educational scenes specially created for each space, and the direction of movement will be guided by the ship, telling you where you will be travelling to. The ship’s spaces will be animated by the voices of the crew members who will tell you about themselves and their service on board.

Close your eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Open your eyes, now you are a crew member of the ship.  

SHIP: Built in 1958 in Bremen, Burmester Shipyard, I initially served in the German Navy, back then I was called “Koblenz”.
My grey painted hull may give an impression that I am made of metal, whereas in fact I am a wooden, military “Lindau” class ship. Brazilian oak hull, mahogany trim and decks made of natural teak. I am not a cheap ship. All the equipment was state-of-the-art at that time. That is probably why I served for so long. The question is, why does it matter? Wood and non-magnetic metal allow me to avoid the danger of magnetic mines. While I was still navigating the seas and oceans, looking for mines in the depths – that was my mission! 
In early December 1999, Hurricane Anatoly is raging in the Baltic Sea, the waves are rising as high as 5–6 metres, and I am navigating from Germany to Klaipėda, heading for the harbour that will become my new home. I remember it was very dark, the waves were rolling over the ship and the stern of the ship was constantly submerged, the water surrounded us on all sides. Having overcome this storm, we reached the shores of Lithuania, and I became “Sūduvis”, joining the service at the Lithuanian Naval Forces.