The battlefronts of tomorrow are shifting fast, and it is evident in the revival of Cold War tech reborn with a modern twist. Turkey has introduced a revolutionary drone named TALAY, designed by SolidAERO, which brings back the wing-in-ground-effect vehicle (WIG) once a Soviet-era curiosity into the high-stakes world of 21st-century maritime warfare.
Turkey’s TALAY drone is not your average unmanned aircraft. Developed with a nod to the Soviet Ekranoplans but outfitted with cutting-edge autonomy, TALAY flies just 3 meters (about 9.84 feet) above the sea below most radar coverage making it ideal for reconnaissance, quick strikes, or even coordinated swarm attacks. It’s not built for brute force, but for precision, evasion, and adaptability. In Christopher McFadden’s words, this is not just a revival of past technology it’s the tactical shift “from brute force to speed, stealth, and networked disruption.”
Weighing just 132 pounds (60 kg) at takeoff, TALAY can cover 124 miles (200 km) at speeds of up to 124 mph (200 kph). It carries a payload of 66 pounds (30 kg), sufficient for small strike missions or surveillance equipment. As SolidAERO notes, the platform is “capable of autonomous or operator-controlled flight even in sea state three conditions,” meaning it can perform in moderate waves and shifting weather day or night.
This compact design with foldable wings and a 2.8-meter body makes it portable and deployable in swarms. Unlike the massive Soviet Lun-class that wielded six anti-ship missiles, TALAY represents a different kind of threat: it overwhelms targets not with one big hit, but with many small, radar-evading, semi-autonomous attacks. As McFadden aptly observes, “TALAY threatens to do something more insidious” to silently bypass defenses and dismantle enemy strategies from within.
But Turkey isn’t the only nation investing in this once-forgotten category of aircraft. In July 2025, China was spotted testing what’s been dubbed the “Bohai Sea Monster”, a manned WIG craft that mirrors the Soviet archetype in scale and intention. Reports suggest it features a stepped hull, outrigger floats, and potentially composite materials for stealth and efficiency. Though largely a tech demonstrator, it’s likely meant for logistics, search and rescue, or control over contested regions in the South China Sea.
Unlike TALAY, China’s version seems more conventional larger, manned, and focused on transport over disruption. It’s designed to move people and matériel swiftly across contested waters, operating just under radar but without the modular autonomy of TALAY’s AI-driven design. As McFadden writes, “A shared attempt to get the most out of this technology binds these two very different platforms.” Whether for attack or support, both nations are finding value in skimming just above the waves, where traditional naval threats become sluggish and predictable.
Meanwhile, the United States has entered the field with its own experimental version—the Liberty Lifter—intended for rapid resupply missions in the vast Pacific theater. Yet while American and Chinese WIG concepts remain in their early phases, Turkey is already preparing for sea trials and mass production, aiming for delivery by January 2027.
What sets TALAY apart is its operational readiness and its strategic philosophy. It’s not just about building a cool drone. It’s about redefining naval doctrine. The vision isn’t to replicate existing naval assets but to disrupt them at scale, using cheap, networked, AI-driven assets that can slip through the cracks of traditional defenses. It’s about rewriting the rules of engagement, especially for nations that lack the sprawling budgets of superpowers.
In McFadden’s analysis, this approach signals something bigger: “How middle powers like Turkey are finding high-tech, low-cost ways to rewrite the rules of the game.” In an era of rising tensions and contested seas, technologies like TALAY may offer strategic parity at a fraction of the cost.

