Section 2. Krasnoyarsk to Igarka - On the Yenisei.

Day 3: (August 14) Arrival at Krasnoyarsk. Embark on a hydrofoil river boat. Start downstream journey on the Yenesei. Spend night at Vorogovo.

Krasnoyarsk, at dockside, Wednesday, August 14 noon

I slept a couple of hours last night, but woke up early, and feeling apprehensive about the journey ahead, I stared at the star-studded night sky, and sorted out some thoughts and ideas. Around five o’clock, out of the complete darkness of the night, the horizon started to show as a faint demarcation of the as yet invisible blue-black Siberian taiga, and the slightly paler sky. Then, just above the horizon, a distinct orange line appeared: the beginning of dawn. Soon the line broadened into a series of stripes of fiery vermilion, under which suddenly the sun rose up, immediately too bright for direct viewing. Our first Siberian day had started. Thirty thousand feet below, reflecting the pale early morning sky, I spotted the spectacularly ox-bowed River Ket, a tributary of the Ob, placing us on the map, some 500 km east-north-east of our destination. Within the hour we landed in Krasnoyarsk, facing a cool cloudy morning. We were spewed out of our jet, walked out through a gate, and faced a slow, disorganized hassle to retrieve our luggage.

The bus ride to the city was quite interesting, in that the landscape reminded me of the foothills north of Edmonton. This should not have been a surprise for me, since the two areas are at about the same latitude, and have for one reason or another an intensely continental climate. The gently rolling hills, fields of barley and oats, or pastures and hay fields were all very similar to what one would expect in central Alberta. I was amused that even the most visible common bird, the magpie, was the same species. Several large fields of cabbages probably said more about the Russian diet than about any climate or soil differences between central Alberta and central Siberia. The city of Krasnoyarsk was full of rusting industrial sites, abandoned at the end of the Soviet era; but at the same time, the new economy is in full swing. Free enterprise has certainly reached Krasnoyarsk; in fact it seems to be leapfrogging over the old economy. But, whereas the private sector is vibrant and on-the-ball, the public sector is still firmly rooted in soviet style bureaucracy. It is most frustrating having to deal with bureaucratic intransigence and incompetence. I hope that the new Russian entrepreneurial enthusiasm will soon demand a more efficient and cooperative bureaucracy.

10 p.m.

We are still racing down river at top speed, the sun has just set, and a thin new moon appears to be travelling along with us, its reflection dancing on the wavelets of the Yenisei. It has been a spectacularly gorgeous day, and although it will be cool, it looks like it is going to be a peaceful, clear and windless arctic night. We are just about at our destination of the day, a small village called Vorogovo. We were to go about a hundred km further, to the research station at Mirnoye, where a group of helpful scientists were expecting us with vodka and dinner. But just up ahead is a narrow, sharply curved section of the river, with rapids, which the captain wants to navigate in better light, i.e. tomorrow. How or where exactly we will sleep tonight is still a mystery to me, but I am confident something will be arranged; that seems to be the Russian way of doing things.

Day 4: (August 15) Continue journey down the Yenisei. Cross the Arctic Circle. Champagne party. Late evening arrival in Igarka. Overnight at sport center.

On the Yenisei, near Bor, Thursday, 15 August 8:30 a.m.

The day started very early for us. At five o’clock, with only a suggestion of dawn in the night sky, we pulled ourselves out of our sleeping bags, and amidst mumbled ‘good-mornings’, we started to put on our boots, roll up our foamies, and gather our wits. The crew already had a roaring fire on the beach, heating kettles of water for our breakfast. During the night I had heard the Vorogovans singing romantic, melodious Russian ballads at some drinking establishment until well after three, so that it didn’t surprise me that when we rose, the village was still sound asleep; not even a dog barked to see us off. By six the engines coughed into action, and a few minutes later we were running the Podkamennaya-Tunguska rapids at top speed. As we navigated the rocky islands and sharp curves, the sun rose above the hills, casting intense orange light into the wisps of fog that hung above the rapids, creating wonderful contrasting light effects against the deeply shaded rocky shores.

Yesterday, just after sunset, we arrived at Vorogovo, and Tonya negotiated overnight space for us with the village elders. There were two small, private bedrooms with beds for a couple of lucky members of the group, while everyone else slept either on the benches on board, or on the floor of a large space adjacent to the village dock. It was a typical late summer night, too warm for sleeping inside one’s sleeping bag till after midnight, but then quite chilly at dawn. Fortunately, neither the anticipated bad mosquito problem, nor the forecast rain materialized. Instead, we are having cloudless, sunny skies, light warm winds, and virtually no biting insects.