Evgeny Smurgis (Russia)
Teodor Rezvoi (Russia)

Evgeni Smurgis: Interrupted World Tour

The Beginning of the Dream

A year after the triumphant voyage of the British sportsmen, Evgeni Smurgis from Lipetsk began his unique marathon on a rowboat through the entire country via rivers and seven seas from the Baltic Sea to the Pacific Ocean in 1967.

At first, everything was prosaic. Evgeni lived in Tulpan, a village in the remotest depth of the Perm region, and taught physical education in the village's school. After lessons pupils from remote villages returned to their homes on rowboats, some upstream, some down stream. The villages here were situated on rivers and it is not surprising that the river was the only road to school, to pasture, or to a sawmill. Where else did you need to go! The Kolva River was such a road for the whole region. Once in the summer of 1965, while hunting grouse, Evgeni saw an old woman. In a boat with a haystack and a tethered goat, she gleefully was rowing upstream, time to time using the aft oar to push the boat through the river grass. From the diary of Evgeni Smugis:

"Forgetting about the grouse, I ran home. My imagination was painting beautiful pictures. The boat should be longer, the bow and the stern should be raised, good oars should be fixed, and we're off! And one other thing: if there were two people, we would make more than 8-10 kilometers an hour. Why not go to my parents in Lipetsk for a vacation? That's it…rowing night and day and in 4,500 kilometers doesn't seem like so far…."

Two years passed in conversations with a local old-timer of 78 years, Andrei Pavlovich Mikov, from the neighboring village of Rusinovo (43 kilometers down river), who was beginning to build a seven-meter long boat. There was also a fellow-traveler, a fellow-city man from Lipetsk, Valeri Lyutikov. They helped the master whenever he asked and, in the spring of 1967, having christened the boat "MAX-4" (translator's note: "Waving 4 Oars"), began traveling. At that time Evgeni didn't think that his unique marathon would make the "MAX-4" famous. They found out about the Brits' voyage speaking with river tourists from the Regional Council of Tourism. But at that time dreaming of a sea venture was unreal. Even for internal river rowing, it was necessary to have many different types of "papers," everything from a route book and paperwork on tick fever vaccinations to others. There weren't any maps. Everything was secret, except school maps for geography lessons. Woodsmen and captains helped - drawing maps, but the main way was following the local advice. As they say, "If you ask around, you'll get around."

Bureaucrats, who enviously wanted to interfere in the Great Dream of the "Great Ring," tried putting them in their place, not allowing the dare-devils to start, were afraid of the phrase, which opened not only the doors in shops with a deficit sausage, but also the river locks: "This venture is devoted to 50 years of the Great October (Revolution)." By the way, during the next trip from Lipetsk to Riga through "dangerous" Moscow, the boat was carrying a categorical slogan: "Devoted to the 50th year of the L.Y.C.L.S.U." ("All-Union Leninist Young Communist League of the Soviet Union"). In some places our travelers were bet not with strict checks, but with hand salutes, upon reading these simple magical words….

The four men wanted to start the inconceivable long-distance travel on June 9 1967, despite the forthcoming "ill-fated Friday," according to the words of Mokeevna, the shelter's hostess in the village of Orlovka. Evgeni wrote about this as:

"We are starting, despite the cautions by the wise Mokeevna. There are few people to see us off; someone brought some things for our travel. Quick handshakes, heavy slaps on the back and we left. At the command "Boat" the sheepdog, Vatan, gladly takes his place on the bow. Now we need to board the cat, Vaska. But the cat didn't like this idea, and he disappeared into the brush, despite our calls. This was not like J.K. Jerome's "Three Men in a Boat."

Jumping ahead, I would like to add that two years later besides Vatan, a bear cub, Borya, began to travel in the boat, and, therefore, there were four travelers. This caused a change in Evgeni's workplace and way of life. He abandoned his home and job in the Perm region and became a hunter in Primorie. Once during a hunt, Evgeni found a small bear left by his mother. There was nobody who wanted to take this animal, time was closing in, and Evgeni took him on an airplane to Riga - the next starting place. While in the boat, the bear was protected with the phrase "Devoted to 100 Years of Lenin." Vaccination papers were obtained through a bribe of dried sausage, which was in deficit, received thanks to this phrase as well. By the end of this difficult transition of the bear traveling through the Black Sea and the Sea of Azov, the adult animal became unmanageable, and, in Rostov-on-the-Don, Borya was "hired" to work in the local circus.

From the "Great Ring" to … Vladivostok

There is no sense in describing in detail the entire trip. Having closed the ring in Volgograd, Evgeni was hot with the idea of reaching Lake Baikal, not risking saying the word "Vladivostok."

Such a dream could appear to be complete stupidity and frighten future companions. To speak about the actual idea in the next starting city was dangerous as well. It was possible to lose the boat or to be sent to prison for making "problems" for the officials. Then (and even now) there was no term "rowing marathon." Tourism in the Soviet Union was on the rise, but its traditions leaned on "grouping." It was considered that traveling alone was very dangerous both for the traveler and also for the officials, who would be responsible to their higher-ups if something were to happen. It was necessary to travel in groups of four for tourist on boats, rafts and canoes, and no less than six for journeys with a 1- to 4-category difficulty. A lone traveler created headaches for the regional councils of tourism, which "guided" travelers with special route books. Evgeni had to fib to and avoid border controls, militia, fishing wardens, and tourism councils using letters, recommendations, and newspaper articles on previous trips.

The surprised controllers examining papers and the route written in boat's log reluctantly gave their OK. The main barriers, as you can understand, were bridges, locks, and dams. In some cases before bridges and locks it was necessary to visit executive committees and regional committees to receive passes through protected bridges or through "closed" territories, which were many in the territory of the USSR.

Traveling from Volgograd to the mouth of the Ural River was completed by Smurgis all alone. Then he found some companions for different phases of his trip. They were his fellow-countrymen from Lipetsk: Viktor Popov, Vyacheslav Lykov, and Nikolai Peslyak. But as usual, during the most difficult and dangerous route entering the Kara Sea, he had to go it alone. This occurred in the summer of 1978. Everything was wonderful; the frontier guard on the mouth of the Ob did not interfere in his entering the sea. This was the first time when a rowboat with a single oarsman was let out into the Kara Sea. But this is not international waters. Having entered the mouth of the Yenisei from the Kara Sea, Evgeni began preparing for the great marathon upstream the Yenisei and Angara rivers. While going upstream the Yenisei, he had a companion - Leonid Mikula from Donetsk, but entering Irkutsk via the waters of the capricious Angara, Evgeni had to row alone….

In 1981, in Irkutsk, I reached Evgeni after grilling a sailor. Though I had great skills in rowing, I didn't tell him. What if he suddenly changes his mind, and then my dream to row Lake Baikal, just like the navigator's assistant, Pushkarev, and the archpriest Abakum, would become unreal. Local people think highly of the "Sea-Lake," and there is nobody who would risk rowing with me or renting me a boat. But I liked modeling ancient routes, using the tales about them in the magazine "Around the World," which I had been dedicated to for several years, after serving in the fleet. Light-heartedly, in an unknown euphoria from realizing these plans, we left Irkutsk. Reliance was achieved through "iron" papers: from the editor's office of the magazine "Around the World" with a request for assistance, to General-Colonel Matrosov, the head of the border guard of the USSR.

Skipping ahead, I can say that the protection papers didn't have any force on the Amur River. Because of permanent conflicts with the Chinese, our boat was put onto a special platform and was taken accurately to Khabarovsk, leaving the Chinese border far behind us.

The moment, when we, overcoming the great current of the Angara River, found ourselves near the Shaman stone in the mouth of the Daughter River of The Holy Sea, will remain in my mind forever. I thought: How many times Evgeni Smurgis felt such solemn minutes of "the overcoming of euphoria?" We crossed Lake Baikal during a storm and a north wind (note: called Barguzin on the Baikal) strongly blew along our port side, preventing of our approach into the mouth of the Selenga River. Along this legendary river, during the great high waters, we traveled a day and a night, and had only one short stop in Chita to place a mark on the paper confirming that we really rowed upstream. None of locals even thought about such a feat, as we have been told by the omul fishermen.

After hundreds of kilometers of going upstream the Selenga, there were many adventures in a narrow and dexterous inflow of the Selenga - the Khilka River. We rafted along the current only after portage outside of Chita. In Nikolaevsk-on-the-Amur I had many things to model. In a full sense, Evgeni and I repeated the historical trip of June-July of 1849 on rowboats by sailors from "Baikal" commanded by Gennadi Nevelski. Due to persistence of the future Admiral, the strait between Sakhalin and the Continent was plied.

August in the Sea of Okhotsk and in the Sea of Japan is the warmest and the stormiest. At least two times we were hit by typhoons. It was good that the water was warm. One day, having been hammered by an 8-scale storm, we floundered alongside the boat filled with water. The ocean, having calmed down, allowed to us bail the boat out one day and continue our trip on to Vladivostok. This happened one more time on the trip to Nakhodka. After that we were carried by a storm to Japan, but then the changing wind allowed us to go north-east to the bay of Golden Horn, and the people at the border control office who had lost us became relaxed. We entered Vladivostok with the reputation of victors. The boat "MAX-4," after 14 years of service to Evgeni Smurgis and his companions, became an exhibition in the V. K. Arsenev Regional Museum. Over the entire history of the Soviet Union, this was the first time a simple boat received the privilege of sitting near the iron monsters of the "great past" moored at the museum.

Dreaming of the World Tour

The idea to make a world trip on a rowboat from east to west through the practically impossible Arctic seas to the Atlantic Ocean was born in Vladivostok. After crossing the Atlantic Ocean, it would be necessary to enter the Pacific Ocean through the Panama Canal and along the coasts of former Russian America upon entering the Bering Strait, and from there to the mouth of the Lena in order to close the ring of the world tour, as they say, was a stone's throw away. This elaborated route was so unusual that we had no chance to be sorry about the boat we left in the museum. This route occurred prophetically. In 2000-2001 this route was plied by the yacht "Sibir," closing the world tour via the Arctic seas.

It is important to note that the first idea of the world tour on a rowboat was suggested by the English. This occurred soon after the completion of John Fairfax and Silvia Cook's voyage on the boat "Britania-2" in the Pacific Ocean. In 1973, 24-year old Derek King, 26-year old Peter Bird and 20-year old Carol Mason tried to use the vacant boat. They were even able to prepare it especially for the world trip. But this idea failed and, in the summer of 1974, Derek King together with Peter Bird, who would soon become a conqueror of the Pacific Ocean, crossed the Atlantic Ocean on this boat.

"I think, Evgeni, you need a shorter and lighter boat," I told Evgeni after the ceremonial transfer of the boat "MAX-4" to the museum. Evgeni agreed because he had had difficulties through the ice floes of the Kara Sea from the mouth of the Ob to the mouth of the Yenisei. Then several times he found himself in ice traps during north winds, but the heavy "MAX-4"could not be carried over the ice. And also its flat bottom could freeze to the surface of the ice and just try dragging the boat to an iceless area. For this you need to have a keel fixed with iron, something like blades on an ice-boat.

The start was planned in the mouth of one of the greatest Siberian rivers - the Lena. But where should the boat be built? However, I remembered some old friends near Leningrad (Saint-Petersburg): where the Neva River makes a small bend, and in days of old there was a Swedish tower called Pella. Now there is a ship-building plant having the same name near the ancient ruins. Plastic rowboats were built here and used on the lakes near resorts by able fishermen, who fixed a little motor on the back of the boat. We imagined the contours of the boat "Pella-Fjord," which would be suitable for rowing and carrying from one iceless area to another. On such a boat Evgeni thought of going from the mouth of the Lena to the mouth of the Yenisei, after bending around the Taimyr Peninsula, the northernmost point of Eurasia.

We built two boats. The second boat had a mast for a wind-glider's sail and was made for the "world trip" planned by me through the White Sea with the goal of searching for and describing crosses, izbas, camps and other things from old Pomorian villages.

It turned out just the way we planned. A year of constant work boils on the hands because of epoxy resin, but the work finally came to an end. Evgeni's boat headed off to the east, to Irkutsk, where he and his son, 14-year old Aleksandr, departed for the starting place of the world tour along the great Lena River. During that summer, I was crossing the White Sea, searching for religious crosses of fraught Pomorian sailors of the past. In autumn, when the "Pella-Fjord" wintered over in Tiksi, Evgeni and I thought an actual ocean rowboat would be needed after Dikson, and Evgeni prepared "to storm" Chelyuskin Point. A rowboat had never appeared in these straits filled with ice at the ends of the earth….

In 1988, Evgeni started the first world tour on the rowboat in the port of Tiksi on June 24, 1986 (Замечание: несовпадение дат). For the first time (how many more times can we say "for the first time?") the route of the rowboat was sketched via the Arctic seas, where the period of navigation would be one or two months using ice-breakers. Therefore, moving along the route of the world trip was possible only for a short time of navigation, which for rowboats doesn't exist at all. We understood that our voyage to Murmansk from where a year-round trip would take several years to reach the goal….

For the first time in the history of rowing marathons, he went through the Arctic seas solo from Tiksi to the Harbor of Dickson, reaching the area of Chelyuskin Point at 75 degrees parallel - 45 minutes Northern latitude. Between the legendary Chelyuskin Point and Dickson there was a historical meeting with ice-breakers. The first meeting was with the "Arktika" on August 28, 1990, and on September 14, there was a meeting with the "Sovetski Soyuz." Pages from Evgeni's diary:

"August 28, 1990. 2 a.m. Temperature is 0 C°. The ice-breaker "Arktika" passes along the port side. I salute it with flares. It worked! The sailors from the nuclear giant are greatly surprised. I can't approach the ship as it moves through blocks of ice, preparing a channel for a caravan stuck in the ice…."

"September 14, 1990. The sailors from the atomic ice-breaker "Sovetski Soyuz" hurry to save me on a diver's boat. I beat my saviors' questions with, "The captain of the ice-breaker 'Pella-Fjord' wishes to visit the captain of the atomic ice-breaker." There is a silent moment and I'm rowing to the black side of the atomic giant. On the top of the platform of the ramp I meet the captain of the ice-breaker, Anatoli Gorshkovski. This meeting in the icy waters of the Kara Sea I will never forget…."

After this phase of the world trip there was a pause. An ocean boat needed to be built. The further voyage lay in the open seas and the short "Pella-Fjord" remained on a hydro-base in Dickson. At our friends' from the Petrozavodsk club "Odissei" we found a small wharf and began building an ocean rowboat. Wood for the bottom and corpus of the boat was prepared by Dmitriev. For a more accurate job and needed materials, we used the "currency of those years" - several cases of vodka: this was not a great amount for finishing the boat. The total amount for the boat's construction, which in the West would be tens of thousands of dollars, was a couple thousand rubles in Russia. True, the oars were done by Leningradians. In the end, we built the seven-meter ocean rowboat "MAX-4" and sent it to Dickson on a passing steamship. Together with his son, Aleksandr, Evgeni Smurgis made a unique trip from Dickson to Murmansk.

In 1998, the start from Murmank became a historical one. Having two diplomas from "The Guiness Book of World Records," Evgeni understood that the boat would simply not be allowed out of the territorial waters of the Soviet Union. We really had some serious problems. The border control refused to release the new ocean rowboat "MAX-4"into the open sea based on the position that the boat was not a ship and, therefore, they don't need to release it. But it turned out that the border control didn't know the International Merchant Shipping Code where it states that a boat for sport usage is a VESSEL. This reference that I had kept had legal weight in our case. On June 4, 1993, Evgeni and Aleksandr Smurgis, under a cold miserable drizzle and wind, left Murmansk, and planned a one-leg trip to reach London and after the boat's repair to reach the Spanish harbor of Cadis.

They were already "melting off into the distant fogs off Rybachi," when our oarsmen ran into a headlong storm. Evgeni let out a drogue and the boat drifted towards the coast in the region of the Russian-Norwegian border. Try defining the left or right banks of the border river Voriema during a storm. If only they had moored a hundred meters more to the right! Let's open Evgeni Smurgis' diary where there is an episode of a conversation with the "keepers of the frontier":

We are being carried into the shallows of the right banks of the border river. We pulled our boat higher above the tide waterline.

"Get down you bastards! Face in the sand! Hands and legs apart…"

Thus we were met on the border. There was a humiliating grilling, procession at gunpoint, passport control, and extreme rudeness.

Of course our documents were OK, but the offended authorities from Murmansk ordered us to "beat it." They had to while away the time near the boat, waiting for the wind to weaken. The most surprising in this story is that the chief of the border control office, Oleg Anatolevich Korobenko, wasn't surprised at all. He was given the honor of setting the first rowboat out into the open ocean. Well, of course, rudeness of the great "Country of Soviets" is of no accident. The offensive attitude to the citizens is our national feature, whatever they say about the great Russian peoples, their hospitality and unlimited kindness. It is absurd….

Our main characters arrived in London at the end of August, 1993. I met the Smurgises in the mouth of the Thames. The English border controllers and policemen silently looked at the wonder from Russia. The Englishmen are able to be surprised and without any problems they stamped the passports of the father and the son, as if they did not believe in the reality of what had occurred. The two-month marathon across the Barents and the North seas was estimated as it should be. Near Taylor Bridge our oarsmen were met by representatives of several television companies, including ORT from Moscow.

For a month we not only repaired the boat, but also prepared it for a voyage across the Bay of Biscay. For the first time in history a Russian rowboat took part in the anniversary of traditional racing on the Thames, "The Great River Race."

The continuation to Cadis, Spain, Evgeni continued all alone. He sent his son home; in particular because he didn't like the struggles with the storms in the British Channel and in the Bay of Biscay.

Evgeni died on the night of November 15, 1993, in a storm near the mouth of the Garonne on the coast of France. The boat, cast onto a coast near La Tremblad, was found undamaged. Now the boat "MAX-4" is an exhibit of the local museum in La Tremblad. The body of Evgeni Smurgis was soon found and repatriated by air to his hometown of Lipetsk, Russia. Smurgis was able to make 11,300 kilometers on his route of the world tour, and in his rowing all together 48,000 kilometers in 710 days "on the road." He received two diplomas from "The Guinness Book of World Records" for rowing across the Arctic seas. There is a street in Lipetsk named in the honor of Evgeni Smurgis….

I write the last phrases from my memorial comments to the dairy of Evgeni Smurgis, found in the "MAX-4" cast onto the coast.

He was informed of the storm from a helicopter and the traveler considered it a "usual" one, which he had seen so many times before. The last night he spent near the walls of the historical Fort Boyard, well-known in Russia because of a television show. The tragic and ridiculous incident went against his usual life abilities during his stop in a strait between the island of Oleron and the continent when the hurricane hit. Evgeni Smurgis' character included the features of the Stoics and superman: unique will, patience, a feeling of inspiration and foresight, and the desire to act against wise thoughts (a forecast, warning, his own minute of weakness), being sure that his will to win. I remember a note in his dairy that near the coast of Germany he fastened a safety belt for the first time. What is this - a reckless boldness or unlimited faith in one's own abilities, or maybe the principle of keeping your chin up to the end?

In life, when he was building his Taiga izba or chewing the rag over tea, Evgeni was not a superman and, therefore, the thought of Evgeni never showing up at my doorstep with his backpack of wild plans on the next phases of the world tour is intolerably painful. His ridiculous death stopped him from crossing the Atlantic Ocean all alone in the winter of 1993….