Rivethnoexp. Part I. Learning, Moscow, Dubna, Zavidovo, Kalyazin, Uglich, Uchma

July 14–18, 2011

Learning

At the beginning of the summer, I started learning the theory and practice of operating a powerboat (or “small vessel” in boating parlance). It all began at the Alye Parusa residential complex. This is where the learner boat was located and where the expedition subsequently launched, with three yachts: Esmeraldousique, IT-Boat and Liberty.

People build castles by the water, hoping to seclude themselves from strangers. When you’re on the water, you’re in a special position with an unusual amount of freedom of movement. And can see things that a land-bound observer isn’t meant to.

New vistas of familiar landscapes unfold from the water (see the story about the construction of Zhivopisny Bridge).

I grew up in Moscow, accustomed to getting around by metro. The metro functions like a teleportation device, and a completely imaginary picture of the city’s layout forms in your head. When you begin driving around in a car, familiar areas piece themselves together into a surprising new configuration. Places you know turn out to be much closer to (or further from) each other than you previously thought. And when you traverse the city by boat, the whole picture transforms once again. After leaving the yacht club, you pass through a lock—and 10 minutes later you’re already at the Moscow International Business Centre, without any traffic or obstacles on the way.

In another five minutes, you hit the Kremlin. Boat owners don’t take rides here very often—they try it once and then get sick of it, because you need to make advance arrangements to lock through and waste an extra hour.

And if you go through the lock in the opposite direction, you can see the River Terminal from an unusual vantage point.

I passed the written exam and driving test, received my boating license (a document authorizing its owner to operate a small vessel) and memorized the most important thing.

Do not cross!

Esmeraldousique was launched.

Moscow

The locks began as soon as we cast off. Two radio frequencies are used on the river: one channel for general communication and one for communication with the locks. The radio lingo is different from what I’d gotten accustomed to on the road with truckers (see the story about CB radios). Drivers on the road frequently put a call out for someone to get in touch with them (“Guys, how far does the bottleneck on Bykovo go?”), but on the water, you have to specify your addressee.

“Lock number eight to Esmeraldousique motor yacht.”

“Lock number eight listening.”

“Good evening. An expedition of three motorboats is approaching you from below. Everything is in order, our life jackets are on, we’re ready to lock through. Awaiting further instructions.”

“All right, after Gagarin moors, all three of you raft up at the fifth bollard on your port side.”

A bollard is a post or hook (in this case, a floating one inside the lock’s chamber) to which you secure your boat. To raft up means to moor to another boat. The port side is the left side. Large passenger and cargo vessels moor first, then it’s time for small fry like us.

While in the lock chamber, you have to watch the rope (line) to make sure it doesn’t get taut—this can happen if the floating bollard gets jammed. You need to cut the rope in time if it does.

The way the lock works is very simple. There’s a corridor (chamber) with gates on both sides. The water level is different on either side. At least one of the gates is always closed—that’s the trick.

You go into the chamber. The gates on the side from which you entered close.

The chamber fills with water or, on the contrary, is partially drained of water. The goal is to get the water to the same level as on the exit side.

The wet wall shows the difference between the two water levels.

Liberty

The gates open. Free to go.

The entire infrastructure dates back to the Soviet era. Statues everywhere.

Stately bas-reliefs and cast iron all around.

“Expedition of three motorboats thanks lock such-and-such for locking us through and wishes you a pleasant shift.”

“All the best to you as well.”

We passed through a total of 20 locks during the expedition.

Dubna

A separate detailed account about Dubna already exists, so we continue on through the lock without docking.

Past an incredibly tall statue of Lenin—and full speed ahead.

Zavidovo

There are various ways to fuel up on the water. In the past, it used to be a pain: you had to find a taxi, take a jerrycan to the gas station, dash back and pour the gasoline into your tank. Now there are floating gas stations. It’s not an easy business—in the winter there’s no one to provide gas for, and in the summer your main customers are water scooters. That aside, the gas station is set up like any other—gasoline, diesel. The only difference: the attendant keeps a close eye to make sure no fuel spills in the water. In case it does, the gas stations are equipped with sprayers that dispense diluted dishwashing liquid—the soap neutralizes the gasoline.

Pioneer, Rosneft. Hours of operation 9:00 a.m.—9:00 p.m. Slow speed. Flammable. No smoking

The construction of a resort for billionaires is in full swing in Zavidovo. The waterfront is being done up in the style of “pseudo-Italian casino in an Asian country.”

But the quality of the golf course they’re building is out of this world. Once it opens, everyone will be thrilled. Well, whoever can get in, that is.

* * *

The heat was incredibly oppressive all summer. I have no idea how people dealt with it in Moscow. It was worse for us, because we were heading south. But it was also easier for us, because all we had to do was take a step—and we were in the water. I left the helm in the hands of an experienced but careless helmsman. As we were about to go take another dip, he ran Esmeraldousique aground. The engine wouldn’t start again, so IT-Boat took us in tow and set course towards Kalyazin. On the way, I thought about Moumousique and Coucousique.

Kalyazin

All the large water reservoirs around Moscow are man-made. When a hydro power plant cascade was being built on the Volga river, many places had to be flooded. The bell tower in Kalyazin ended up cut off by water from the rest of the city. This is the only thing Kalyazin is notable for (if you don’t count the giant scientific antenna in the background).

Kalyazin was once a quaint provincial town.

Today, it’s yet another Pearl of Russia.

The city of Kalyazin—the Pearl of Russia. Apartments for sale in new 25-unit property

There’s a giant unfinished abandoned resort here. Even the locals don’t know about it, although it’s built on an island connected to the mainland by a massive reinforced-concrete bridge.

The most beautiful and elegant fence in the entire country is found right here.

Lovely walking paths.

A pillar with show bills.

A homeless man with mismatched slippers.

A cosmic store.

_astronom_. Milk, meat

The only sign in the entire country that prohibits stopping on Thursdays.

Street signs.

Lenin (former) Tverskaya St. 1st of May (former) Nikolskaya St.

Honor and respect.

Honor and respect

People drive to the standpipes on the street to get water.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

There’s very little beauty left here.

Just half a street leading down to the waterfront.

Where you’ll find the same old bell tower.

And souvenirs. As frightful as Kalyazin itself.

Uglich

Foreigners love traditional Russian headdresses.

Uglich still has a little bit of beauty left. There’s natural beauty.

And animal beauty.

And man-made beauty.

All of this is peppered with extremely bad and cloyingly frilly cast iron signs and plaques.

Lenin Street

When in fact, the local gems don’t need any further embellishment, they’re lovely just as they are. Take this bulletin board, for instance.

Information. Attention! Young poultry sale July 23rd at 10 AM. Pullets, cockerels, ducklings, goslings, broiler chicks. By the market

Or this gas pipeline location indicator—a downright Renaissance drawing.

A bottle of milk and a hunk of cheese are just a stone’s throw away.

Afanasiy

The bench was supposed to have concrete poured over the base, but instead it was just set down as is.

At first, I took the coat of arms of Uglich to be an anchor. Then I realized the shape I was seeing was actually a halo and the trim of a coat.

A trash can.

The city’s chief item of interest: garbage dumpsters with runners rather than wheels.

Uchma

An incredible town with a special ambience. How often do you encounter a village house built in 1904? Many things are incredible here. The local collective farmers only received passports in 1979. Until then, they were basically serfs.

A real pastoral idyll.

Lena Naumova left Moscow, her job and all the associated hustle and bustle to move to Uchma and marry Vasya.

Together, they run the best private museum I’ve seen in all of Russia. We can forgive them this bust of Karl Marx refashioned into an old Russian prince.

You can touch and sit on everything in the museum, which is dedicated to the history of Uchma.

Coop store

Visitors are invited to sit down in front of the house, then treated to sunflower seeds and an audio recording of local old women recounting their memories. Among the exhibits is a work log belonging to a collective farm worker who, among other things, spent two hours getting a cow out of a well.

* * *

In the meantime, Esmeraldousique finally got repaired in Kalyazin. Some kind of special hub, which breaks when the boat runs aground, had to be replaced. And replaced it was.

The expedition continued further down the Volga.

“Do not drop anchor” signs are usually set up in pairs, to indicate the line along which a cable is laid and where anchors shouldn’t be dropped to avoid hitting it.

There are large white-painted wooden boards along the shore. If you navigate your boat in such a way that the boards line up one above the other, you’ll be right in the middle of the navigable channel. As a rule, when you get closer to these boards, a buoy or other new reference point appears on the horizon.

All of this, of course, is still no replacement for navigation charts, which must be studied carefully during the voyage. The Volga looks wide, but is only a meter deep in many places, so ships have make incredibly convoluted zigzags to navigate it.