Siberian Passag: An Explorer's Search into the Russian Arctic

© Red Kestrel Books 2019, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Publisher’s Note

Although in most cases we have retained the Author’s original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern reader’s benefit.

We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.

SIBERIAN PASSAGE

An Explorer’s Search into the Russian Arctic

INNOKENTY P. TOLMACHOFF

Siberian Passage was originally published in 1949 by Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick, New Jersey.

• • •

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS 4

1 — INTRODUCTION 5

2 — ORGANIZING THE EXPEDITION 7

2 — AREA OF EXPLORATION 11

3 — SIBERIAN EXPRESS 17

4 — OVER THE POST ROAD 22

5 — YAKUTSK 30

6 — COSSACKS AND EXILES 35

7 — A RETARDED SPRING 41

8 — THE LEPROSERY 49

9 — TCHERSKl’S GRAVE 54

10 — LAPTEV’S TOWER 60

11 — THE REINDEER CHUKCHI 65

12 — THE CAMP ON THE CHAUN 74

13 — SIBERIAN FESTIVAL 83

14 — THE ART OF DOG DRIVING 91

15 — LIFE IN A POLOG 94

16 — DEZHNEV CAPE 103

17 — TO SHELAGSKI CAPE AND SUKHARNOYE 109

18 — RETURN TO ST. PETERSBURG 114

MAPS 119

REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER 122

1 — INTRODUCTION

ALTHOUGH the expedition which is described in this book took place forty years ago, nothing has been published on its work except a few preliminary official reports and technical papers in Russian. A detailed description in Russian was being prepared for publication when, in 1914, World War I broke out, and work with the Red Cross brought my scientific activities to an abrupt end. During the Russian Revolution and immediately thereafter, I was more concerned with political, social, and economic work than with the preparation for publication of a report on the expedition. My departure from Russia which followed in 1922 again delayed such activity.

At the present time the expedition has been apparently forgotten in Russia, and outside of Russia it was never well known. The events of the expedition are told in this book exactly as they happened and should be considered in the light of historical perspective. I have not attempted to bring up to date my account of the life of that part of Siberia through which I traveled, or of the political and economic position of the Russian and native populations. I lack the data which would permit me to make a correct judgment on the changes which have occurred, and I am rather doubtful whether it would be possible to secure a complete or unbiased record from contemporary Russia.

From the reports of present-day travelers through parts of Yakutsk Province, however, there is some indication of how life there now compares with that of the time of the expedition. Conditions of travel, these visitors find, are not very different from those existing forty years ago. In spite of the fact that Yakutsk Province, now known as Yakutya, has become an independent unit in the U.S.S. R., orders from Moscow are as important there today as those formerly issued from St. Petersburg. Governor, Ispravnik, Zasyedatel, and other former officials have been replaced by the president of the Yakutya and the different Soviet commissars. Soviets function in town and village, but the political and economic status quo of the population evidently does not differ much from that of former years. Automobiles run regularly between Irkutsk and the upper Lena River, but in a greater part of the region horses, reindeer, and dogs are still the only means of transportation. The same work is necessary to prepare means of transportation for an expedition, and the same mistakes and negligence of the local administration are possible after forty years. Although the whole administrative machine has changed its structure and appearance, it has been impossible to change the habits of nomads dependent for their life upon their reindeer, or of Yakuts still living under the same roof with their cows. Securing horses among them still requires special messengers, long journeys, and meetings of local Soviets.

Unlike the inhabitants of Yakutsk Province, the Chukchi have seen important changes in their political and economic position. The Soviet succeeded where the old Russian government failed. Chukchi have lost their former independence and are now at the same level as other Siberian natives in their political relation to Russia. Many of the changes may be traced to the greater development of sea communication through Bering Strait in the post-war period, and to the growing use of aircraft. No part of the country is now so isolated as it was before., Undoubtedly recent visitors to the Chukchi Peninsula do not feel as if they were traveling in a foreign country among people for whom orders of the Central Russian government or its local agents have no meaning.

Material culture has not changed so much. The Chukchi still live in their yerangas and pologs, as they have for generations. Reindeer Chukchi still depend on their herds. The Maritime Chukchi of today still depend chiefly on hunting sea animals, and their successful years alternate with lean ones which bring them close to starvation. In general, conditions of the Maritime Chukchi have undergone a more favorable alteration than those of the Reindeer Chukchi. By Soviet edict the former have stopped trading with Americans. They no longer have their American rifles and have been forced, therefore, to return to the old art of hunting with bow and spears, the use of which prehistoric instruments was almost forgotten. Even in the best trained hands, such weapons cannot compete with an American Winchester.

The character of the native Siberian has undergone very little change as a result of the Revolution. If this expedition were to be undertaken today, and an account of it written, the story would be similar to this record of a journey made forty years ago. Certain aspects of Russia’s old regime reflected in this book color the story but do not affect its essential elements.

2 — ORGANIZING THE EXPEDITION

ONE AFTERNOON in the autumn of 1908 the telephone rang in my office at the Geological Museum of the Russian Academy of Sciences in St. Petersburg. The call was from General Vilkitzki, Chief of the Russian Hydrographical Survey, and a good friend of mine.

Come to my office at once, if you can. We have some very important business here, he said without introduction or explanation.

A few minutes later I was at the old Admiralty Building. In Vilkitzki’s office I found his assistant, General Drijenco; the president of the Russian Geographical Society, General Shocalski; and the governor of the Yakutsk Province, Mr. Kraft, in whose plan, unfolded at this meeting, I was to be involved for more than a year.

Governor Kraft told me that he was very much concerned about the development of the northern part of his province and particularly interested in the utilization of the northern sea route for the benefit of that really desolate section of the country. The possibility of commercial navigation along the Arctic coast of Siberia west of Bering Strait was still a matter of speculation, and further investigation and study would have to be made before a final decision one way or another could be reached. If navigation was worthwhile from an economic standpoint, it would require the organization of certain shore services, the building of navigation signs, and coal depots. Auxiliary stations would be needed where, in the event of wrecks, crews could find provisions and medicaments, and could establish communication with the interior of the country. It was also true that navigation along the northeastern coast would be helped very much if conditions of ice could be observed at special shore stations and reported to passing ships.

All of these questions had been considered very carefully at Irkutsk and Yakutsk, but Governor Kraft and his associates were at a loss to organize such a coast service when so little was known about the Arctic shore of Yakutsk Province. As a result Kraft had decided to organize a special land expedition for the exploration of the Arctic shore of Siberia between the embouchure of the Lena River and Bering Strait. Such an expedition would not only contribute to settling the question of navigation, but would serve to indicate the most rational organization of the whole shore service.

I have come now to St. Petersburg, said Governor Kraft, to get governmental support for my plans and to procure the necessary funds. You were recommended to me as a good man to head the enterprise. Will you undertake it?

In spite of the suddenness of the proposition, my interest and enthusiasm for the expedition brought my quick though not unconditional acceptance. I told Kraft that I would want to work quite independently of anybody, that I should want to be assured of full assistance from local administrations without any interference, and that I should want the selection or appointment of all members of the staff left entirely in my hands.

I noticed that the last condition did not particularly please Governor Kraft, but he knew, as I did, that the approval of the Russian Hydrographical Survey depended upon my acceptance, and without that approval, not a ruble could be expected from the government. A very capable man and a quick thinker, Governor Kraft’s hesitation was so short as to be hardly noticeable. All right, he said, I accept your conditions.

Although it had all happened so quickly, the difficulties of such an expedition were immediately obvious, and there seemed far too little time to solve too many of them. One of these concerned animals for transportation. As was always the case with expeditions in the Arctic areas of Siberia., these animals had to come from the local population, most of whom were nomads. It was necessary to meet these nomads at certain points where they had their gatherings once or twice a year. Between these gatherings they wandered over tundra or taiga where they could be located only by means of a special expedition. If they were to deliver animals to us, therefore, orders must be placed with them a long time ahead of our need. The brief three-month period before our contemplated departure for the north could not be devoted entirely to such preparation; there was also the problem of funds. The expedition would ultimately be financed by the government, but since money was not yet assigned, no orders could be placed officially and no immediate progress connected with expenses made. Governor Kraft promised me all his assistance as well as that of his local administrative subordinates, but even he could not make any move before the allotment of funds.

Briefly, my plans for the expedition were to leave St. Petersburg at the end of 1908 and to begin work on the north shore in February. A week’s time would be spent in traveling by rail to Irkutsk, and over two weeks in traveling about two thousand miles by horse team between Irkutsk and Yakutsk. Two weeks more would bring us by reindeer and dog team to the shore of the Arctic Ocean, east of the Lena River, an added distance of about twelve hundred miles. I expected to have at least three months of good sledge road along the shore which, with the long spring days, would give plenty of time to examine the Arctic shore between the Lena and Koluima Rivers. All necessary preparations for summer travel east of the Koluima River were to be made during the spring.

In my calculations I did not take into consideration the unavoidable red tape, an evil of governmental enterprises in all countries and at all times. Better to say, I did not expect it to be so bad as it was. Governor Kraft, the Hydrographical Survey, and the Minister of Trade and Industry were enthusiastic about the expedition, and I expected them to do everything they could to move the matter as quickly as possible. My expectations, however, were not realized.

Not until more than a year later, on January 2, 1909, was it possible to bring together in an official meeting the representatives of different government institutions interested in the expedition. I reported my plan, and it was approved immediately and unanimously. I brought to the attention of the assembly the fact that too much time already had been wasted and that the expedition could not be executed before the end of that year. As a result, the assembly decided that the expedition would cover only the part of the shore between the Koluima River and Bering Strait. They also decided to solicit necessary money from the Ten Million Fund. In pre-revolutionary Russia ten million rubles were assigned every year for the purpose of covering unexpected expenses not provided for in the budget. Every minister had the right to draw from this source in case of emergency.

On February 12, about the time when I expected to be already on the Arctic shore, the group assembled again. Their first report was the impossibility of procuring money from the Ten Million Fund—the expedition was impossible this year! And everybody knew very well that if the expedition could not materialize this year, it never would. I took the sheet of paper on which I had noted my plan and crossed it out with heavy black lines, feeling a bitter disappointment and at the same time a certain relief. I was tired of the way things had dragged out, tired of all the walking from one department to another at a time when I should have been traveling north, tired of telephones and fruitless conferences. At the Department of Trade and Industry people were saying Tolmachoff is permanently hanging on our telephone wire! I felt that every day of delay made the expedition a more risky enterprise. With further delay we would be forced to use all the summer time for travel and could not arrive at the Arctic coast before the working season. The only promise of the situation was a most ignominious end for the expedition, and I could sigh with relief as I reasoned that I had been spared this failure through lack of funds.

My relief, however, was short-lived. Suddenly the assembly raised the question again; they began to speak of how important it was that the expedition be made this year, that perhaps it would be possible in some way to procure money. They considered again my original plan and decided to investigate also the part of the Arctic shore west of the Koluima as far as the Lena River. As the season was already advanced, the expedition was to be split into two independent parties. On my shoulders was placed the responsibility for supplying both parties with instruments, camping paraphernalia, arms, and other equipment. All necessary funds would be assigned to me, and I would have to make the final cash report. I would also have to find the necessary people for the western party. Such an alteration of my original plan, unavoidable because of the delay, left me with the great responsibility of having to direct its work while the expedition itself was under way.

Fortunately I already had secured a dependable leader for the western party. In 1908 the Russian Academy of Sciences had sent an expedition into the part of Arctic Siberia east of the Lena River for the excavation of a mammoth carcass found there by natives. This expedition worked under the leadership of a geologist, K. A. Vollossovitch, who had been in that area once before with Baron Toll’s expedition in 1900. Vollossovitch returned from the 1908 journey while I was worrying about the new expedition. When the split into two parties was decided, I offered the subordinate leadership to him and he accepted immediately.

I found two assistants for Vollossovitch, the topographer Yudin and the astronomer Scvorzov, and gave him a free hand in everything else. The choice of this leader was so successful that the western party was thought of later as an independent expedition, although in reality it was part of the same expedition and, in general, followed my plan.

Money was all we needed now, and this time the members of the Department of Trade and Industry showed much more energy and ingenuity. Money was found through a bureaucratic trick, one that was performed with extreme skill: The expedition would be sent to Arctic Siberia in the interests of eventual commercial navigation. When such navigation began to operate, steamers would call at different ports on their way along the Arctic shore and pay tolls which in time would accumulate to a certain amount. This money, which eventually would be collected, should be advanced to finance our expedition. Many years have now passed since that time and though a number of steamers and schooners have visited the Koluima River, no ports have been constructed along the shore and not a ruble of toll collected.

For my party I invited the astronomer Weber and the topographer Kozhevnicov. I had met the latter in 1904 when he was a captain in the Russian Topographic Corps. He had neither training nor experience for the work ahead, and this, coupled with his tendency toward nervousness, made difficulties for him at first, but Kozhevnicov was a careful and an enthusiastic worker and he soon overcame these handicaps. The friendship that grew up between us during the expedition was of life-long duration.

In the meantime a third party was added to the expedition. The Hydrographical Survey found it necessary to investigate the entrance into the Koluima River and commissioned for the purpose the twenty-five-year-old hydrographer G. J. Syedov. He was a good man to have on the expedition. He could bear the discomforts of Arctic travel cheerfully, and I found him willing, while he was with our party, to share the worries which often were more troublesome to me than the rigors of the expedition. Syedov’s party was sent as an independent expedition and only during the journey to his destination was he obliged to follow my instructions. He was at no time to interfere with the travel of our party.

On February 18 the question of funds was decided positively, but more than three full weeks passed before we received the cash. The last link in the chain of red tape was the signature of the Czar; as soon as this was secured we started the final preparations. Governor Kraft dictated two long telegrams which I sent, one to the Ispravnik (Chief of Police) at Sredne-Koluimsk, which ordered all preparations for the eastern party, and the other to the Ispravnik of the Verkhoyansk District with a corresponding order for the western (Vollossovitch) party. These were the first and the last orders sent to local authorities. The telegrams could be wired only as far as Yakutsk, and from this