In the beginning there was a word. The word told by the well-known
Norwegian traveler Thor Heyerdal about his extraordinary travel on a balsa
raft "Kon-Tiki". We have read many other books about rafts, schooners, boats
and yachts and other vessels. A crazy idea has come to our minds - to travel
down the River on a wooden raft.
There were three brave fellows: Vanja, Vova and Vasja. At first we
intended to name our raft - "VVV", as the initial letters of our names. But
lately we memorized more ancient times: " Veni, vidi, vici ". But Vasily
noticed, that the Roman Empire was crushed some day. (to tell the truth, he
simply would not like to close the list and he always liked to be ahead).
And we needed a reliable raft. A thought suddenly struck us. We remembered
about the Ark. The old man Noah had THREE sons. It would be "The Ark" - such
was our decision. As you would name your raft so would she float.
Our truly imperishable flag was made from snow-white fiberglass
clothes. The size was 160 X 80, on each side of it there was an image of a
raft consisting of four red stripes, above them was a triangular sail, and
still above there was a blue tag. And large black letters of the name were
below. Jerome K. Jerome has scientifically proved, that THREE was the most
optimum number of any crew.
The starting point of our route has been chosen not accidentally.
Just at the place, where the 56-th parallel crosses the 40-th meridian,
the River flows along an ancient tectonic break.
In the morning we started to Red Hunting station by electric train.
The sky was covered with grey clouds, through which the farewell light fell
upon us. Sudden lightnings were gleaming and remote peals of thunder were
sounding in the east. The morning breeze brought flavor of lilac. Before our
travel we carefully studied the map of this area and have found out, that in
nine kilometers to the northwest from a small town there was Omophorovo
village with a church, and in nine kilometers to the southwest the church of Zarechnoe
village. The distance between these villages is 9 kilometers as well. So it
was the equipotent triangle.
- And what is an "omophor"? - asked Vova.
- You see, it is such a long, wide scarf, like a tape with crosses on bishop"s
shoulders, - explained Ivan.
- Where have you got such information from? - Vova was surprised.
- I"ve come across it in some ancient church book. It is a Greek word - it
means a scarf.
- Isn"t it a rather strange place for bishops? - Vova was still astonished.
- May be he came to the consecration of the church.
- The church should be well known, if a bishop visited it, - concluded Vova.
- Have a look at the map. There is a churchyard, and the village is only one
mile from the main road.
- Who is going to a churchyard here? - it was Vasily, who returned with a
newspaper. He did not miss any football match and was a football fan of the
local team. So was Vova as well. But Ivan did not care a bit for their passion.
- Oh, we"ve been talking about churches, - explained Vova.
- We"ve just passed Undol, there is a church where, they say, Suvorov got
married, - stated Vasily.
- Nonsense, - said Ivan, - there was his estate here and he had a rest after
the Crimean war. "The Science to Win" is written by him in Undol. For about
four years Alexander Vasiljevich lived here. This year is just the two hundred
anniversary since his death. An interesting legend is connected with this church.
After the revolution commissars threw out all church utensils among which was
a wooden sculpture of Alexander Nevskiy. to which the church has been devoted.
Local parishioners began to grumble, advising not to do blasphemy, while it was
the Saint in fact.
" Ah, it is the saint? Here is the saint to you! " - the Commissar has snatched
out his sabre and chopped off the arms of the sculpture. Time passed. The Civil
war was waging and the church robber has gone to the battle from which he
returned without both his arms.
(Notes. It is necessary to notice, that Nevskiy was a descendant of Yury
Dolgoruky (Long Arms), and he was particularly unfortunate concerning his arms.
A month before this story was written a bronze monument to Alexander Nevskiy was
established in the town. While unloading the sculpture from the lorry, it fell
down and the arm with a board was broken).
- And what has happened with Alexander Nevskiy? - asked Vova.
- Local people have hidden the crashed relic and have carefully kept.
- Where did you heard this legend from?
- It was told by Valery Mihajlovich Anisimov, who has restored the Relic"s arms.
- Oh, I know, it is your uncle with a beard, - guessed. Vasily.
- Stop chattering, boys, otherwise we"ll pass our station, - Vova interrupted
their talk.
- Really, we should go to the exit.
- The Red Hunting! Are you getting off here? - a conductor in tambour of the
electric train suspiciously gazed at us with his shrill grey eyes.
- Certainly, - answered Vasily.
- Are you getting off RIGHT HERE? - repeated the conductor, - There is NOTHING
here in fact. There are only bogs and mosquitoes. And the river is some seven
miles.
- Well, don"t bother, we have been here before.
The Red Hunting met us with exciting aroma of flowers and cheerful singing of
birds. We put our backpacks on and started towards the sun. The thunder-storm
was far behind us.
We often called Vasily as the Bellman. It was just his idea to go to
such a wild place with hungry mosquitoes. He liked to chat, especially after
a mug of local beer "Lakinskoe", he liked to brag, he would never miss an
opportunity either to go fishing, or in a boat voyage, or to gather mushrooms.
We often traveled along forest paths and gathered the Nature"s gifts. During our
travel he used to tell stories about his adventures. This time he told us about
the recent forest fires:
- Just imagine, there was such smog almost all the summer long. You couldn"t see
anythingbefore you in half a dozen meters. The peat bogs were burned out some
meters deep. Even later, when the rains began, smoke still stayed for weeks.
- Does it happen often here? - asked Ivan.
- Not so, but it burns thoroughly - answered Vasja, - Though there happens great
crop of cowberry on forest cuttings after riding fires in seven years. But there
are few mushrooms now. You should go to gather mushrooms as far as Moshok or
Ivanovo region. My father told as they went some day there on a military lorry
to gather mushrooms...
- Why not on a tank? - Vovik teased him.
- No, it was "Ural" - such a large lorry. And it happened, let me think, in June
1984 just after the Trinity. So, they went to the Ivanovo region and just got out
of the lorry to look for summer honey agarics. Suddenly terrible wind has risen.
Frankly speaking, not wind, but hurricane in fact. Some trees were turned out
with their roots. They hurried back into the cabin. Just imagine, this "Ural" was
turned aside, as if that was a small "Zaporozhets". And in Ivanovo they told, the
tornado has flown into an apartment of one woman, twisted there and went further.
When she regained consciousness and looked around everything was in its place,
even a newspaper was on the table. But before it was "Izvestija", and then -
"Ivanovskaja Pravda". She opened the refrigerator and discovered, that things
from the case were accurately put there. She opened the case: beaten glass was
heaped there up to the top. Both the refrigerator and the case have been closed.
A family happened to be just at the cemetery for some sad event during the
tornado. There were thirteen of them, who appeared in the muzzle of the tornado.
The cemetery was on the bank of the river. This bank was so destroyed by the
tornado, that dead men were flying in the air. But nobody has suffered, except
for one boy. He was pierced through with a wooden stick and he even did not
feel pain.
- Well, you are teasing, fellow, - doubted Vova.
- No, it was really so. My father told so, and I"ve read an article recently.
- Oh, it"s very hot! The sun is burning and mosquitoes are biting. Should we
bath, guys? Here is a fine lake! - suggested Vova.
- Let"s go! Well, the mosquitoes won"t bite in the water!
We gladly put off our heavy backpacks, quickly undressed and jumped into
pleasant cool of a forest lake. There were buds of white lilies rising from
the bottom.
- So it is not a haunted place, if lilies grow here, - said Vasily.
We had a good swim and went further. Soon we crossed a highway. In two
kilometers there appeared the church of Zarechnoe with a white belltower.
But our route stretched to the east and we went along the green field with
peas. We entered a birch grove and suddenly found out four huge boulders. They
settled down rhombus and astonished by their grey antiquity. The largest stone
was spotted with intricate cracks, probably, they were created by the nature.
To specify our route, we got a map from a backpack and put it on the stone.
We were greatly amazed! The configuration of cracks completely coincided with
bends of the River represented on the map! The pointer of the compass rotated
as a lunatic. We have pulled out a pendulum: it went around as well. We noticed
four more boulders in ten meters, but we had no time to solve these riddles,
while the River was waiting for us ahead.
When we reached the River, we chose a light glade which was blown from
all sides by the wind, dropped our bothered burden, put a tent and began to
gather brushwood for a fire. When the fire inflamed, Ivan opened the Logbook
for the first time from the beginning of our travel. Its yellow cover was not
sprinkled yet with water, not burnt by the scorching sun, not soiled by hands
black of baked potato.
The 30-th of May. (Tuesday). The First Day.
- he wrote down in the Log,-
We reached the place at 11.45.
Dinner. 14.30
The Menu:
1. Schi.
2. Soljanka.
3. Tea (with currant leaves)
It meant in translation:
1. Water with cabbage.
2. Cabbage without water.
3. Water without cabbage.
The first dinner was not very delicious. Vova was on duty that day.
Later on he showed us his skills as a cook. But the sorrow of our bellies was
brightened up by a good mug of beer. After dinner we began the construction
of "The Ark". Just on the coast we found a huge dry lime tree. When it was cut,
we dropped it into water. We named it "Hiroshima" - it was as huge as the bomb,
that fell on this unfortunate Japanese city. It became the leading log of our raft.
Vova made a useful discovery:
- I have found a ready raft nearby on the coast. We should only disassemble it and
pull the logs to the river to drag up.
- Oh, it would be of great help, - praised him Ivan, - probably, you know all this
mysterious River up and down!
-Yes. We often went fishing here. And the River and is really mysterious since the
ancient
times. When the hordes of khan Batyj attacked Russia, and it was in winter, they
plundered rich cities and moved upon the River to Moscow, which was a small village
at that time. The transport with stolen treasures, which was following them,
mysteriously drowned under the ice in the most deep place and the ice-hole at once
become covered by ice, while frosts were severe then. Later on they were seeking for
the treasures but unsuccessfully.
It seems, that the Red Hunting, from where we have begun our travel, had
such a name not accidentally. There were hunting places from the ancient times.
Many lambs, wild boars, foxes, martens, hares, beavers, squirrels lived In the
wild woods. The first railway was laid here almost one and a half centuries ago.
The station was named - the Hunting. And after the revolution it unexpectedly
became Red. The nature here was wonderful. Vasily and Ivan crossed the river
and went through the pine forest. A vast sea of of lilies of the valley surrounded
them. A magnificent lamb peacefully grazed on a glade. It noticed them and slowly
disappeared in a hazel grove.
- Such a nice place for hunting, - said Vasily, - It"s marvelous to wander with
a gun here and to hunt partridge. But I prefer go fishing or gather mushrooms.
- Just have a look - there is a hut.
Generally speaking it was not a hut, but a shed, just a shelter for
hunters or shepherds. A little man sat at a fire
- Hi, fellows, where are you going? - he asked.
- We wanted to gather mushrooms, - answered Vasily.
- Morels have already ended but It"s too early yet for summer mushrooms.
There would be a lot of them later on. Many mushroom pickers come here from
Moscow and Ryazan on their cars. I live here the whole summer around.
This place is called Bobrovoe Urochische (the Beaver"s Site). Hunters used to
stay here. There was a forest stream named Gluhoy, where many beavers lived.
Now you"ll hardly meet a beaver. Just over there is the Dry bog. Much cowberry
grow there in august. Will you have a mug of tea? I"ve made it with a dozen of
different grasses.
- No, thanks. And where is the old church? - asked Vasily.
- Oh, it"s behind the Dry bog. There is a country churchyard. The church is
almost ruined. But you"d better not go there, while it"s getting dark.
- Why?
- Sometimes one can hear shrick, scream and yell there at night.
A drunk shepherd happened to go there one night. Nobody saw him since then.
- It is not dark yet, - said Vasily, - we"ll have a look at this church.
- Well, you may as you will. So long!
We have parted with the little man and went further. In the country churchyard
we saw curved black crosses, and destroyed rusty fences. Suddenly a black
cloud closed the bloody red sun. It was getting cooler and darker. The thunder
storm was approaching. Black ravens rose terrible hubbub. When we opened a
scratching door, a dozen of little flying mice began circling under the ceiling.
We stepped upon creaking fallen plaster. The echo resounded each step under
high vaults. During a flash of lightning we noticed an illusive figure, dressed
in bible clothes. There were flickering gilding crosses of omophor upon its
shoulders and a pale nimbus was shining around the gray-haired head. Shrill dark
eyes gazed at us.
- Look! It"s Nikolay Chudotvorets! - exclaimed Ivan.
It thundered. We came up nearer. Frescos were sprinkled in some places, but
the face of the saint was perfectly kept, radiating calmness and tranquility.
We have passed to the belltower and began to climb up a spiral staircase.
At last we have reached the top and looked out of a wide window of
a belltower. The thunder-storm was passing by. The Sacrament of the sun setting
already began behind the river in the west, where we left our tent.
- It is time to return to our base, - noticed Vasily, - Vova, probably,
is tired to wait for us ...
- Where on earth have you been roving? - indignantly exclaimed Vova, when we
returned to our camp. The fire peacefully crackled in twilight. Tasty buckwheat
porridge with canned beef was boiling in the pot. We sat down on the grass
with our plates and began to praise Vova"s culinary skills.
It was so nice to have a mug of hot coffee.
- Shall we play cards? - suggested Vova.
- It"s high time to sleep. We shall build the raft since early morning.
For some time we sat at the fire and discussed our impressions.
- Guys, have a look! The Moon ascends from the west! - exclaimed Vasily.
- You are silly! All the planets move from the east to the West.
- Just have a look!
A yellow disk quickly moved from the place, where the sun has recently
disappeared. It reached the middle of the sky and it became as bright, as
in the daylight. Suddenly the object changed its direction and went to the
south with great speed. There was a spiral luminous trace behind it.
- What could it be? - Vova was puzzled about it.
- Well, it is not an UFO, of course. A rocket from Plesetsk started, - declared
Vasily. - I"ve read in a newspaper, many such cases were observed lately.
We still admired the fading trace and went to the tent. Hardly Ivan has fallen
asleep, in his mind"s eye he saw an opened book. It was written in Russian,
every word sounded, it was possible to return once again to re-read.
The text was clear. But when he opened his eyes, all words disappeared from
his memory. Next morning, when comrades woke up, they could not tell anything
about their dreams as well.
In the morning we went to an old raft, which Vova has found at the coast.
We disassembled it, pulled the logs to the water and transported them to our
camp. It took us all the day long to build our new raft. At last in the evening
"The Ark" was ready. The proud flag fluttered above her.
At 20.45 we started. We left the last spring night and sailed towards the first
summer morning. The raft slowly slided along the amazing banks of the River.
Above us the sky was glowing with all colors of rainbow. It was like a puff pie.
Bright red strips above the horizon alternated with dark blue, passing in
greenish scale, and still above smoothly leaving in condensed blue. And this
picture varied every moment, colors faded, and the night darkness fell upon earth.
Sometimes a fisher"s fire floated past. We saw a glow ahead. But it was not the
dawn. It were the lights of the small town. At 1.30 we floated under the
bridge. The river sharply turned off to the right, following 56-th parallel.
An hour later we had an accident. We touched a snag coming out from water.
The raft was damaged. It was raining. So we had to stop and climb up the high bank.
We made a small fire covered ourselves with a tent. Next morning we repaired our
raft and continued the voyage. Morning fishermen were not very glad seeing our
vessel, while they had to pull out their fishing tackles in haste.
By the evening we were passing by Plovuchee Lake. Some groans
were heard in the bushes, as if souls of suffering sinners were moaning of their
cruel fate. It was either a bittern or some other night bird. It should be
mentioned that long centuries ago 12 murderers of Andrey Bogoljubsky were thrown
in wooden coffins in the water of this lake.
We traveled four days and nights. At last we saw the white temples
with gold domes on the high bank of the River. Many kilometers, almost sleepless
nights and millions mosquitoes were behind us.
- Well, we have come, - said Vova, - Vasja, and have you heard that the president
would visit our town in two weeks?
- Of course, Vova. They started to paint the grass in green color everywhere.
- Well, it's good, that not in red, - noticed Ivan.
- It Is not as on the Caucasus...
We finished the travel, left our raft and vanished in the vanity of city ...
Some days later we were reading the Logbook.
- Ivan, you should sometime describe our voyage, - asked Vova.
- Well, I am a bad writer. I cannot put two words together.
- No, you should write...
After a while Vova vanished away and we did not see him any more.
And Ivan attempted to execute his request. Excuse me, if something is wrong...
A lot of other adventures has taken place; but, if they would be written about
In details, all the written books of the world won"t contain them, I think. Amen.*
