http://www.boatinternational.com | May 2018On board when I arrived, in addition to the usual
crew, was Igor, our Russian pilot, who I quickly
learnt was indispensable to the success of our
summer voyage. Igor, in his 50s with a long, dark
moustache and thick-rimmed glasses, sported a pale
green uniform and epaulettes. He was warm and
friendly, as well as utterly professional and with
a good sense of humour. (Early on in our trip he
asked for “potatoes and vodka” for breakfast; we
quickly realised that he was joking.)
In total, St Petersburg has 342 bridges over its
network of rivers and canals. Fortunately for us, Igor
had worked as a pilot in the St Petersburg area for
more than a decade; there was nothing he did not
know about the waterways, the currents, the tides
and the major drawbridges.
We left our floating pontoon on the River Neva
at 1am and advanced upstream, heading a convoy of
six cargo vessels. The captain, with Igor’s help, had
to negotiate 11 well-lit drawbridges in quick
succession in the city limits.
By the time we dropped anchor at Kuz’minka at
7am the same day we were well clear of St
Petersburg, having travelled some 26 miles. After
we anchored, we found ourselves on a huge expanse
of river just yards away from where a naked local
man was washing himself beside his sinking
boathouse. It was the first, but not the last, unusual
sight that we would encounter on our adventure.
By 1pm, we were on the move again. In some
places, the river was more than 200 metres wide but
we still needed Igor’s local knowledge to navigate
the narrow channel of deep water. After travelling
another 100 miles, we dropped anchor at 6pm that
evening at Valaam, situated on Lake Ladoga,
Europe’s largest freshwater lake. As we sat under
a full moon that night, I was mesmerised by the
vastness of the lake, and the lack of any other vessel
on its dark, still waters.
Valaam is an archipelago of more than 50 islands
of which the largest is, confusingly, also called
Valaam, and which I visited the next morning by
boat – after more negotiations by Igor – to receive
a guided tour of its stunning 14th century monastery,
built as an outpost of the Eastern Orthodox Church.
The island gave off an incredible sense of
religious serenity: everyone spoke in a whisper and,
even by walking on the gravel road, I was worried
I might cause ofence with my “noise pollution”. On
the island we were told in hushed tones that
President Putin has a private retreat on Valaam that
he frequently visits; in fact, many locals had wrongly assumed that the
yacht we were on was Putin’s!
We left Valaam, still only on the second day of our adventure, at 4pm
and headed south towards the Svir River, anchoring of the mouth of the
river at 10pm, having travelled 76 miles. We weighed anchor at 4am on
our third day and undertook a 53 mile run up the Svir River. The daytime
temperature remained in the mid-20s centigrade but the vegetation had
become noticeably denser and there were fewer buildings and
inhabitants.
We approached the Russian town of Lodeynoye Pole on the River Svir
shortly after 9am. As usual, Igor radioed ahead but when he put down
his radio he looked concerned. “It’s a disaster,” he announced in
his broken English. We knew that the air draught of the yacht was 16.5
metres and yet the bridge operator had told Igor the maximum clearance
of the bridge was only 14.5 metres. This presented us with a problem: we
would either have to anchor of and wait for the bridge opening that
evening – thereby badly delaying our plans – or we could try to “wriggle”
under the bridge, knowing that the bridge clearance was changing as the
river rose and fell.
The bridge operator then radioed Igor back to say that the maximum
clearance of the bridge was 15.4 metres, not 14.5 metres. Yet more
discussions saw the bridge’s clearance changed a third time, to 17 metres.
The captain asked the yacht’s bosun and second engineer to don safety
harnesses and clamber up a ladder with measuring tapes to ensure the
details of our air draught were accurate. They concluded the domes were
sitting at 15.5 metres. Without the whip antennas we (hopefully) had 1.5
metres to spare. I was standing on the yacht’s sundeck as she passed under
the bridge as everyone held their breath and, once we were through, let out
a sigh of relief.
Shortly after lunchtime, we arrived at Mandrogi. I went ashore by boat
to see a typical Russian village renowned for its theme park. However, it
was extremely touristy and not a place where I wanted to spend a lot of
time. We left Mandrogi at 8.30am the next day hoping to travel 140 miles
up the Svir River and on to Petrozavodsk, which is situated on the western
shore of Lake Onega. We arrived at sunset to be directed into a less than
salubrious fishing dock situated a few miles from the city centre. The next
morning, I was driven into the city, which is the capital of the Russian
Republic of Karelia, where, under an almost cloudless blue sky, I looked in
awe at a magnificent statue of Peter the Great, who ruled Russia as Tsar for
43 years until 1725.
At 1pm, we started our crossing of Lake Onega, which is fed by 50 rivers
and which has an incredible 1,650 islands on its vast waters. It is the second
largest lake in Europe and the 18th largest in the world.
Our 33 mile journey north-east on day five of our adventure was shortLord Ashcroft’s crew and party were joined
by a Russian pilot, Igor, who not only knew
the waterways of St Petersburg inside out, but
could navigate the narrow deep channels
of the rivers Neva and Svir130