My First School of Water Tourism
I joined the water tourism school run by Yuri B. Afanasyev in 1978 together with my friends Valera Makarkin and Seryoga Deev. Everything was “for real.” Theory lessons were held in some basement near the “Aquarium.”
We gathered after work. We discussed tactics and techniques of overcoming water obstacles, orienteering, belaying, knots, first aid, and more… At the end of the course – an exam!
To be honest, the students of the school were divided into “newbies” and “total newbies.”
The first group were “Simonin’s chicks,” who had taken part a year earlier in a “difficult” trip along the Upper Volga. And to the “total newbies” they seemed like seasoned, experienced tourists: Sasha Kalintsev, Volodya Sapozhnikov, Tolya Baikov, Galya Shironina, Lyuba Chikunova, Katya Kovrova, Galya Tilipalova, and others.
As it turned out, almost none of us really knew how to use a paddle properly. On the first training trip along the Osyotr River, Yuri Borisovich explained why the blades had to be set at a right angle and told everyone to bring the paddles to “combat readiness”. That’s when it all began… Everyone rowed as best they could. Kayaks “sailed” wherever they wanted – from bank to bank! When we reached the Ilyasovsky rapid, we started learning how to cross the current, lean the kayak away from the flow, and stop in an eddy. Losses came quickly – several crews capsized. And it was the second half of April… COLD SHOCK! Volodya Sapozhnikov was changing into a spare set of clothes… Even from behind it was frightening to look at him. Even more he was soaked and beaten by the wind! Brutal…
But the adventures were only beginning. According to the “plan,” a bus was supposed to be waiting for us in the village of Berkhino to take us back to Kolomna. But when we arrived there barely alive, it became clear we were stuck. The driver, “not waiting for us” at the appointed time, had left. There were no mobile phones in those days. So only Plan B remained: RETREAT! Meaning – we row back to Kolomna!
In April it doesn’t get dark very early, but we were already paddling on the Oka in darkness. Around 11 p.m. we reached Kolomna. Our group on two kayaks – Valera and Yegorych, Seryozha, Alla, and I – stopped near the Kolychevo district, while the others went on to Bochmanovo.
After such a “training” trip, nothing could break or scare us anymore!
For the May holidays we faced a qualifying trip of the second category of difficulty along the Berezaika and Msta rivers. We really did learn a lot in the school. The first lesson: “Only newbies use straight paddles!” The second revelation: the person sitting in front in a kayak is not the commander at all – he’s a sailor! If you sit in the back, hidden from the wind, and instead of just rowing forward you steer with strokes, you’re the Captain! And you can even tap the front “sailor” on the helmet with your paddle if he takes you off course and splashes you. Great!
The third trick: if you’re carried onto an obstacle, lie on it – always turn the bottom of the kayak to the current. At first it’s confusing, but after a couple of capsizes, you get it.
And the main rule: two “granny knots” hold stronger than one “reef knot”!
With this theoretical base we set out to tame the Valdai rivers.
Everything was great, but after the first Osyotr trip I had a problem. My “sailor” was an experienced girl (she had done the Upper Volga), who immediately explained to me what kind of “captain” I was… and that I was doing everything wrong. Then she stopped paddling because she was tired.
After such serious “educational work,” before the Msta trip I asked the head of the school to seat me with anyone, but “without experience”! Yuri Borisovich wasn’t very flexible pedagogically, but he heard me. He took my “sailor” into his kayak and gave me complete freedom – to do the entire route alone in a two-seater kayak ‘Salyut’. (Those who have paddled them will understand me.) That way no sailors spoiled my mood or interfered with my rowing.
Honestly, it was hard. But I made it! (Konukhov would have been proud.) And I made it in every sense of the ord.
So much dawned on me during that trip… Glory to water tourism!
I woke up with white hands, stiffed fingers, dark veins. Oh my God! I crawled out of the tent – everything was fine. It was just the tent fabric was red… Local poachers gave us a pike – we cooked fish soup! And there was also morning physical training… unforgettable (I’ll never forget Tolya Baikov!). The school had three divisions. Ours was led by Sasha Kalintsev; I ran difficult rapids with him. The “Big One” we passed on the verge of capsizing. But the “Ladder” rapid was tricky. High water. A strong hole. A harsh capsize. Like being in a washing machine – you can’t tell up from down! The current threw me out below the rapid. No kayak! Rescuers pulled us to shore. Sasha lost a boot – “Better to leave your weapon on the battlefield than your life…” I lost my glasses, but only noticed on shore. Valera Uglov chased after the runaway kayak, caught it two kilometers downstream. Yuri Borisovich sent me along the bank on foot to meet my beloved boat. Its bow and stern were oddly bent upward (the front and rear frames had burst). We had taken a real beating. But it was still usable, and only one serious rapid lay ahead – the Egla, which was flooded anyway.
Then came the “pink cliffs” on the Msta, initiation into water tourists, the “Strip of Horrors,” jokes, and the “FIT FOR DUTY” stamp. Yuri Borisovich as the Water Spirit! Surrounded by his retinue. It was fun and exciting.
Then came the train, a car full of tourists, “the continuation of the banquet”. Simonin’s joke: “I’ll cut you all down!” with Caucasian accent. Everyone laughed – it was all friends. Lyuba Chikunova with her guitar and the songs of Okudzhava, Vizbor, and Sukhanov. Vanya Levin, who after capsizing, when asked “How did that happen?” cheerfully answered, “I hooked my tongue on the bridge!”
Everyone came back alive, healthy, and happy.
Especially me! Now, a little on the hard part. Rowing alone for both “sailor” and “captain” was tolerable, though by evening I couldn’t feel my arms. But carrying a ‘Salyut-2’ packed into one bag, plus a rucksack with gear—that was no joke. At home I put the packed kayak on the balcony without unpacking. It would dry itself… (Never do that!)
And I firmly decided: “Never again will I go on one of these wet adventures. Who needs such joy…”
If only I had known then how many more trips, expeditions, adventures, victories, and losses lay ahead. In what unique and hard-to-reach places of the Soviet Union I would get to be! How many rapids I would pass and mountain passes I would cross! What reliable comrades and true friends I would meet! And how much my life would change thanks to tourism…
Boris Zagumennov
