Pevek, Chukotka Autonomous Okrug, Russian FederationFANCY A WALK ON THE ARCTIC OCEAN?
We woke at 6:00 am to a miserably cold and overcast morning. Peering out of our hotel window, we watched the early commuters heading off to their places of work. Some of the larger ATVs were transporting workers to nearby mines, other commuters were catching the free bus to destinations within the town. We watched with fascination as several people ran flat out for the bus. How anyone could run and keep upright on the glassy ice was beyond us. The day before, we had trouble just standing up.
This day was our first real opportunity to explore Pevek Town. Alex suggested that we take a walk along the coastline to the Port but warned us early to really rug up, a process he knew would take us at least fifteen minutes. He had also organised a taxi trip for the afternoon to one of the nearby Rautan Islands. Yes as you do - just drive across the frozen Arctic Ocean to a local island! It all sounded good to us, especially as the weather forecast was for a balmy minus 30 C day. And we really needed a good long walk. Or so we thought....
We set off from our hotel in fine spirits, rugged up as much as we could and relieved that the sun had finally burnt its way through the heavy cloud and fog. On a clear sunny day, Pevek laced in thick layers of snow, looked fabulously inviting and for us, very exciting. After all, it was just what we had come to see. But it was deceptively cold.
Our first real impression of Pevek was one of immense space. A sparkling cloudless sky was disproportionately large. Snow, several meters deep completely masked roads, bridges, walkways, fences and almost any natural features. Everything was flat and white. And the icebound Arctic Ocean (the East Siberian Sea) appeared just as an extension of the shoreline; only a deep chasm defining the mainland from the frozen sea. Even a local lake was indistinguishable; just a flat white meadow in the centre of Pevek Town. We understood that in the cold months, the lake surface was actually used as a winter playing field.
A startling revelation to us was there were no trees; none at all. Nor was there any sign of vegetation. Anything that would have grown in summer was totally concealed by the dense blanket snow, further enhancing a feeling of immense space.
Pevek Town was not beautiful. But it was robust; exuding a certain pride and determination, and perhaps a statement "If you could survive in Pevek, you could survive anywhere". Rows of featureless soviet block buildings stood defiantly in monotonous parallel rows. Almost as if someone wanted to cheer them up, each was painted in squares of muted pinks, blues, greys and yellows. Similarly, swings and slippery dips in a children's playground were painted in vivid reds, yellows and green; huge contrasts of colour in an otherwise totally white environment. Brilliantly coloured industrial cranes sunk along the frozen port thrust their metal arms high into the sky; almost as if they were part of a crazy theatrical creation.
A huge power station made quite a scar on an otherwise pristine shoreline; its coal darkened funnels belching putrid black smoke into sky and its coal dust deposits staining the surrounding snow a dirty grey. Alex was not impressed. "In Anadyr (his home town), the snow is clean and white everywhere. And all our footpaths are regularly cleared of snow and safe to walk on.". It was not the only time we heard Alex boast about his beloved Anadyr.
There were however two good things about the power station. Firstly, it kept Pevek's inhabitants alive and secondly it provided a prominent navigational marker. Like Bilibino, for such a small and simply laid out town, we found it very difficult to gain our bearings, especially with the similarity of the buildings and the limited signage - which was in Cyrillic anyway. I vowed that day I would learn Cyrillic when I got home....
We were accompanied on our walk by several dogs, all of whom looked happy and well cared for. But they were obviously outside dogs and how did they withstand the cold, especially their poor naked paw pads? No-one seemed to be able to give us an answer.
On reaching the shoreline near the port, Alex invited us to walk on the frozen ocean. It was not all that easy and in several places we sank up to our mid thighs in deep snow. Having never seen a frozen ocean before, it felt really unsafe and we were convinced that any minute we could subside into the lethal waters below. Alex thought our trepidation was very amusing but patiently waited for us as we trod gingerly "out to sea".
Just before we reached the port we walked through several rows of abandoned apartment blocks; despondent cement skeletons with their windows broken and doors missing. Alex explained that they were scheduled for demolition due to being inexplicably built over aquifer lines. Much like those in Bilibino, they were impacted by the severe effects of permafrost and had apparently become totally unstable. Whatever the reason, it was a lonely and depressing site and one that we witnessed many times through our travels in far eastern Russia.
The walk was pleasant but after an hour, our bodies were really starting to feel the cold. We agreed that during our travels in Chukotka, we never did feel really cold, even at a chilly minus 44 C in Bilibino. The difference in feeling the such extreme degrees of cold - say from minus 20 to minus 44 C - was just how soon we began to feel it. By this time, our faces were aching and out noses were dripping incessantly. We were very pleased when Alex found a hardware shop for us to shelter in.
It was a wonderful real old fashioned hardware store stocking everything, including the kitchen sink - as well as the much sought after sink plugs. Alan was in his element. For someone who professes to be "not at all handy", he has a great affinity with hardware stores, and can spend hours looking at the most mundane articles such as batteries, bolts and screws or light fittings. We had in fact lost our sink plug during our rapid transfer between hotels so our reason for visiting was not entirely selfish. Why hotels do not have sink plugs, even those tied to the basin, is beyond me. They are such a simple piece of hardware without which Alan is quite lost when trying to shave when we are away.
The store owner was a lovely man; friendly and helpful. He was of course interested in where we were from and when he heard we were Australians, he kept us entertained with incredible stories about the Uzhak. "Do you know, you cannot walk outside during the Uzhak? You cannot even open a door, the wind is so ferocious. And when it blows, the wind can toss shipping containers around as if they were matchboxes?" These Uzakhs sounded pretty horrendous. "What time of the year do they occur mostly Alex?" we asked. "Well, right now Anadyr (our next destination) is right on route for a really bad one" Alex replied. We wished we hadn't bothered to ask. We were scheduled to fly out to Anadyr the following morning....
Our friendly shop owner would not hear of Alan paying for the sink plug. "It is a gift for you foreigners", he smiled. As we left the store, we asked Alex why it was so obvious that we were foreigners. After all, we were all Anglo Saxon in appearance, and we were all pretty white skinned. Alex laughed "Oh, you are soooo obvious! You smile all the time and say 'thank you' far too much. You are soooo overly polite. And you wear foreign clothes (in our case Canadian Sorel snow boots)...." This trip was becoming quite a learning experience - even about ourselves.
Our next stop was Pevek Port. A major facility in Pevek employing some 600 local people, the Port is a key summer transport hub and one of the major employers in the region (it employs about 1/8th of the population). As mentioned, the port has grown significantly in importance due to the Northern Sea Route, even though it is only operational for three to four months per year. It is also an expensive means of transport with each ship having to be accompanied by a number of ice breakers. A small port by international standards, it has the deepest berth of any port in the Northern Sea Route and is highly mechanised with cranes capable of handling up to 24 tons.
A friendly woman greeted us at the desk. "Have you booked an appointment for a tour?" she asked. Alex had not but said he hoped that we may be able to have a look around. The manager, a tall friendly man soon appeared. He apologised that we would not be able to look over the port. That he said would involve making a booking some months ahead (bureaucracy is quite something else in Russia). Alex laughed, saying we were mainly there to warm up. "Well my friends, in that case you are most welcome. And take a seat and help yourselves to some coffee", he added. And gratefully, we did. Quite frankly, the last thing we wanted was to look over the port for an hour or so in the bitter cold.
Our walk back was brisk. We stopped in again to visit our friendly hardware man to warm up before hoofing it non-stop back to the warmth of the hotel. We were slowly learning about day to day survival for tourists in the deceptively benign Arctic conditions. It was still brilliant sunshine, but the temperature was hovering around a very chilly minus 34 C.
....OR HOW ABOUT A DRIVE OVER THE ARCTIC OCEAN?
In the early afternoon, our taxi driver Edik picked us up for our drive along the Ayon Island Zimnik toward Rautan Island (there are in fact two islands, the larger Rautan and the smaller or "Malyy" Rautan Island). A genial and very likeable man, Edik had lived for many years in Pevek and was a mine of information about the town and its surrounds. He was also a very capable person; reassuring for us as you certainly need experienced drivers in this part of the world, especially when handling the often tricky zimnik conditions.
Although the zimnik was not driveable all the way to the smaller island, Edik was taking us as near as he could. We considered however that we were very fortunate to travel even part of the way as the road is open for driving for only two months a year. The ice route provides access from the port of Pevek some 120 kilometers to the island of Ayon and is crucial in the winter months to supply the 250 residents of the island with food, fuel and building materials. Once the ice melts, the only means to reach Ayon is by helicopter or boat during the short navigation season in August, September and October. And we were assured by Edik that conditions for boating were extremely dangerous.
We began our trip over the zimnik from near the entrance of the port. It was truly the most extraordinary experience to be driving through pristine white ice along what was little more than a one lane track gouged deeply into the frozen ice waters of the Pevek Straits of the East Siberian Sea (Arctic Ocean).
Disturbingly, we noticed numerous cracks and occasional bulges in the zimnik surface. "How deep is the ice above the sea water. How do you know it is safe to drive over?" we asked tentatively. "Oh, it is at least 800 mm. And it gets checked by engineers for ice depth and stability" replied Edik casually. It didn't sound nearly deep enough to us, even though we were aware from our Bilibino ice road experience that a minimum thickness for a small van is a mere 25 mm! We also didn't want to add the bleeding obvious - an engineer cannot possible check every inch of the ice road....
We drove about ten kilometers and not far from the Malyy Rautan before Edik decided we should stop for some photo shots before we turned back. He then suggested that he could then take us on a special tour of Pevek town. It sounded good to us.
Standing on the frozen ocean and looking back to Pevek felt rather surreal. It certainly gave us a very different perspective of this tiny remote settlement, and the vastness of its pristine, frozen environment. And not a tree in sight....
A TAXI TOUR OF PEVEK TOWN
Edik was undeniably proud of Pevek. Did he enjoy living there? "Sure, it's my home town and there is a lot to do, especially in the summer months when I can fish and go trekking". As his taxi took us around up to the higher parts of the township, Edik pointed out places of interest "We have an excellent hospital here which is currently under extension and renovation, a technical college, several schools and a variety of small shops and stores.
Pointing to several rows of abandoned apartment blocks he informed that these (like those Alex had take us to that morning) were scheduled for demolition. "A lot of refurbishment and re-building is going on. You won't recognise the place in a few years." he added.
For some inexplicable reason, Edik thought we might like to visit the local school. Well, I guess there was not a lot more we could see. Reluctantly we dragged ourselves out of the taxi with me hissing into Alex's ear "We don't have to actually go inside the school, do we?". Sadly, it was too late. Edik had already hoofed it over to the school's main entrance.
It must have been going home time. No sooner had we alighted the car, we were literally run down by school students, heavily armed with backpacks and bags, racing off over the ice to catch the nearby buses. School students departing school are hardly polite at the best of times, and these robust and exuberant guys were no exception. It was quite an effort to avoid being knocked over in the flurry.
Inside the school was no better. Students stared at us as if they had seen an apparition. Others burst into raucous laughter. As we passed the administration office, a large cherry red haired woman stormed over to us. Of course we didn't understand a word but it was obvious from her ferocious manner and barricade of abuse, that we were to go no further. Needless to say, we were more than happy to leave. The school visit was not one of our more memorable occasions....
The views however from the top part of town were fabulous, looking out over the settlement and frozen sea to greater Rautan Island, giving another perspective to this interesting township. As the sun began to set, Pevek took on a sombre, ghostly ambiance; long charcoal shadows creeping across the snowed covered surrounds painting a surreal, monochromatic impression. The children had gone. The buses had long left. Everything was deathly calm and quiet. Pevek was a truly fascinating place.
OMG! THE UZHAK HAS COME....
That evening Alex burst into our room "A uzhak has hit Anadyr!" he exclaimed. "They are experiencing blizzard conditions with gale force winds and very heavy snow. It is unlikely that our plane will fly tomorrow but I'll keep phoning my girl friend and parents (who live in Anadyr) and tomorrow will check first thing with the airport".
The following day we were scheduled to fly out to the capital city of Anadyr, where we would travel on to the villages of Egvekinot and Amguema, and then back to Anadyr for a few days before finally leaving Chukotka for Khabarovsk, and then to South Korea.
Alex's news was not a surprise to us. We had been well warned about the unpredictability and wild nature of Chukotka weather. "What will be, will be" we philosophised. There was nothing at all we could do. And anyway, we were enjoying Pevek. We were actually beginning to learn about how people lived in this hostile, frigid environment....
HEAVY SNOW IN PEVEK AND AN AWFUL MISTAKE....
6.30 am, Thursday 22nd March 2018
Heavy snow was falling and our morning world was bleak and totally uninviting. It seemed the uzhak may have come close to Pevek too. Looking out of the window, I felt sorry for the commuters, many of whom were bent into the howling snow flurries buffeting the icy surrounds. Even the lamp posts were swaying. I needed a photo.
To my annoyance I couldn't find my camera so I grabbed my phone to try to "capture the moment". But the commuters had gone and the scene looked desolate and boring. I needed some human life for my photos. Two male figures began to walk toward the hotel, both heavily dressed in snow covered thick knee length coats, topped with military styled round fur hats. Yes, I should have known better. But quite honestly, I didn't think twice. In order to steady my hand I clamped the phone directly onto the window. Hmm, dead give away.... Pleased with my photo shot opportunity, I took another two. And thought no more about it....
Violent banging on our door and Nastia's voice calling frantically "Wendy, Wendy! Police, Police!" followed by an ashen faced Alex shook me into sheer panic. "Wendy, did you take photographs of the Border Security Police? asked a breathless Alex. "Umm well, I guess I may have but I didn't know they were police" I confessed. Needless to say, Alan was nowhere to be seen....
Duly summonsed down to the hotel foyer, I was greeted by two grim faced Border Security policemen. And they did look familiar... "You must show the police your photographs and delete them Wendy" explained a trying-awfully-hard-to-sound-calm Alex. I noticed that the three hotel staff Lydia, Lilia and Nastia stood watching behind the foyer counter with undisguised concern.
I must be one of the few people in the current world who never uses their phone as a camera. To my dismay, I had no idea where to locate the photos. Shakily stumbling over my phone icons, I finally located the Photos File and thank god, there they were only three photos of the police. The police looked at them and nodded. By some miracle, I managed to find the Delete button and the police seemed content they had gone forever. Did they want anything else deleted? By that stage, I would have happily destroyed the whole phone. Unbelievably, there were only six or so other photos and they were of the hotel map of Pevek and the wifi password Lydia had given me. The police looked a bit surprised (after all who has less than ten photos on their phones these days?) but indicated that was all they wanted deleted.
Hand on my heart, I apologised to a degree that would have embarrassed most sane people. I then remembered what Alex had said about us looking so obviously foreign because we smiled all the time and said thank you too often. It was time to keep quiet. I also noticed that I had lost eye contact with the police.
To my horror I looked down to realise I had flown downstairs dressed only in my thermal underwear top and pants, and my feet were bare. I saw the police looking at my brightly painted red toe nails and I bet I knew what they were thinking.... With a barely disguised smile, they left the hotel. They had been more than fair. And I guess we should not have been at all surprised that the police were there as they seemed to check our hotel every day. After all, it was their job - and we were in a Closed Zone.
I wondered what they would tell their colleagues back at the headquarters....
CONDITIONS WORSEN AND OUR FLIGHT TO ANADYR IS CANCELLED
Our flight was cancelled. It was not at all surprising given the outside conditions. Alex had instead, organised with Edik to take us for a drive in the afternoon to the nearby village of Valkumey, an excursion that would take us along an all weather road some 20 kilometers south east of Pevek. After my earlier adventures with the Border Security Police, I was quite happy to have a quiet morning.
The day did not improve. Heavy snow faded the outside scenery to powdery grey shadows. We are not used to snow and for us, it was enormously exciting. This we thought, must be what Pevek looks like for much of the year. Strange as it may seem, we were beginning to really enjoy this bizarre and remote town, and especially its extreme location, geography and climate; a world removed from our sub-tropical home village of Crowdy Head on the moderate Mid North Coast shoreline of New South Wales. It was beginning to dawn on us that our experiences in this confronting environment were indeed cementing what was becoming an intense love affair with Arctic Russia....
A DRIVE TO VALKUMEY THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN
Valkumey, in its hey day, was a thriving tin mining town with a population of nearly 4,000 people. Like many mining centres in Chukotka it was first developed using prison labour as part of Stalin's terrible gulag death camp system. During the latter part of the last century Valkumey contributed significantly to the Russia's much sought after tin ore, especially for the Soviet military. Toward the late 1990's however, Valkumey's mining was considered too unprofitable and in 1998, the mines closed and the settlement was totally abandoned. In 2009, Valkumey was scheduled for liquidation.
Our drive took us through Pevek town, heading south along the coastline then slightly east to Valkumey. Blinding snow and icy conditions made driving extremely difficult for Edik; at times virtually driving through white out conditions with visibility almost down to zero. Sitting in the back of the taxi, we wondered just how far we would get.
The outskirts of Pevek were familiar. Decaying, abandoned factories and stores littered the countryside, most almost fully submerged in deep snow and ice. Snowbound acres of stark wooden crosses revealed a lonely cemetery to the right of our road. In the severe blizzard conditions, you could hardly imagine a more forbidding and desolate sight. I couldn't help but wonder "How would you bury the dead in the permafrost conditions?".
As we drove through the depressing outskirts, Alex cheerfully interpreted Edik's running commentary. "Ah, we are now at what is known as the 5th Kilometer. It is a place for storage of all types of goods for the Chaunsky Region - clothing, food and anything that comes in by ship in the summer months that will need storage for winter". Further on we drove past a series of huge tanks which stored the region's fuel. It was a sobering sight. When you see such huge measures for storage you realise just how fragile existence is in the remote Chaunsky region. Here is a video of the desolate 5th Kilometer village. https://youtu.be/lnk_lJYnAeM
I was intrigued by the use of names such as "The 19th Corner" and "The 5th Kilometer". We were also fascinated that certain stations of the Trans Siberian Railway were named just as numbers of kilometers from Moscow. After all, fancy living at 4,386? Were the Siberian and Arctic regions so remote and featureless that names had to be made up numerically? On the other hand it did add to the intrigue of this astonishingly vast region.....
The scenery did not improve, at times our surrounds looking more like a war zone than a series of living villages. Forgotten buildings with shattered windows, collapsed wooden sheds and fences littered the landscape. An abandoned mine stood eerily; still erect in the distance. Why, we wondered was it allowed to become so dilapidated?
As the road wound upwards, the snow covered road became more like a rutted track and the going became really tough. And then the inevitable happened. Our taxi bogged past its axles in deep soft snow. I am well used to digging my little fishing car out of soft beach sand back home - but snow was quite a different matter. I was quite surprised that Edik did not carry with him a shovel - but then again, I guess he didn't always have to ferry around crazy foreigners who wanted to go for a drive in the blizzard either.... But we were even more astonished when he began to dig the car out with his bare hands.
Alex, Alan and I dug too but it was really difficult to make any ground. Edik then very carefully edged the car back and forth, constantly steering the wheels sideways trying to establish a firm bit of ground upon which the taxi could gain some traction. I hate to think what damage the constant wheel turning on the stationary car would have done to its steering.
After an hour, we were getting nowhere; the car digging ever deeper into the quick sand like snow. Alex and Alan then decided to try to push the car out and somehow, after a herculean effort, the taxi finally took off out of its deep pit - with Alan falling flat on his face. Fortunately, there was no damage done to Alan, Alex nor the car but it certainly didn't do Alan's poor broken ribs much good; his third fall in less than a week.
We didn't have to make a decision to turn back. There was no option. But trying to turn the taxi around on the narrow track was another matter. Edik had called a friend to help and after much advice, effort and more bogging, we were finally heading for home. And it was just as well. As we drove high above the surrounding villages, the snow began to fall heavily and the temperature dropped even lower. Edik estimated it would have been around minus 40 degrees C. You don't want to mess around for too long in these conditions. It is a lethal environment. I looked back. There was simply nothing. Just a white desert. Even the road had disappeared; its only evidence of being were pegs delineating what was by then a well hidden track.
Aert
2018-07-27
Why do you do this?