TL: A VISIT TO THE BALTIC FLEET NAVAL BASE IN ST. PETERSBURG SO: by Jochen Vorfelder (GP) May 1992 DT: May 1992 Keywords: ussr russia navy nuclear waste weapons bases radiation / The heavy iron gate swings on rusty hinges; the clock on the sentry house has stopped meaningfully at five to twelve. But the signs are misleading. A fresh wind is blowing through the headquarters of the St. Petersburg Fleet Base on Oleko-Dunditsch- Street. The historical brick building, dating from Peter the Great, has been promised to a Swedish-Russian joint venture hotel enterprise; in two years at the latest the navy personnel must move out and the rooms now floored with run-down linoleum will be renovated to standards of elegance. Even Alexander Pavlovich Slavgorodsky, vice-commander of the base and a soldier for 35 years, appears transformed; he routinely handles the fact that researchers from Greenpeace are sitting in his room asking uncomfortable questions over cookies and warm Pepsi. No, the Baltic Fleet no longer deploys nuclear weapons; no, there aren't any more nuclear capable submarines either, but yes, the weapons systems were taken to Russia. No danger anymore, everyone's a democrat. "Down to the last man, the St. Petersburg Base supported Boris Yeltsin during the coup", the old-time communist assures us. No, times have changed, the navy doesn't have secrets anymore. And to show us how open things are he tells us an unbelievable story: for thirty years, drinking water for the five million inhabitants of St. Petersburg came from Lake Ladoga via the Neva River, although a radioactive contaminated shipwreck was lying at the bottom of the lake. Not until 1991 did the navy remove it. "You see, we take environmental protection seriously". What did he say? Wait, wait, Alexander Pavlovich, please tell your story from the beginning. At the end of the 1950's, when the Cold War was underway, the Soviets were working on the development of their nuclear weapons and using a Baltic Fleet ship to test the effects of radioactivity. Dogs, cats, plants and food were given different doses of alpha, beta and gamma radiation. A captured ship from World War II was used as a secret and very hidden test station in Lake Ladoga, about 90 kilometers from St. Petersburg: it was a German torpedo boat about 90 meters long with 1500 registered tons. "We don't know any more exactly what kind of tests were done. The files have disappeared", Slavgorodsky assures us. The only thing for sure was that the radiation levels were so high after the tests were over that the floating laboratory was to be gotten rid of as soon as possible - and it was sunk in the middle of Lake Lagoda, 12 sea miles west of Valaam Island. Slavgorodsky: "The area was relatively unpopulated at the time, but I'm not sure if it was done on purpose. There was still diesel in the tank, maybe the ship was just left behind and sank by itself." Sunk or dumped, for three decades the radiating torpedo boat contaminated Lake Ladoga and the Neva, whose waters flow through St. Petersburg into the Baltic Sea. The condition of the river is very worrying. The river water washes highly toxic chemicals out of paper and fertilizer factories and cattle farms around Lake Ladoga and carries them through the city. In St. Petersburg's state-run hospital, a number of patients are treated every month who have eaten fish from the Neva or drunken tap water. The city is supplied totally by bank-filtered river water or directly from the river; the purification plants can hardly filter the mess anymore. "To the best of my ability, I really can't tell you how high the contamination was that finally reached St. Petersburg. But we can say it was surely more than ten times the international limits", Slavgorodsky excuses himself. "But people here were worried, and the fleet dealt with it." He smiles again. Within 12 months the radiating wreck was salvaged by scientists and specialists from the Baltic and Black Sea Fleets, pumped out and sealed with a coat of synthetic resin in a floating dock. The superstructure and the rooms where the experiments had been done were specially sealed; the pumped out water and the fuel on board were filtered, thickened and burned. "That the operation could be carried out without any problems is due to a specially developed technology of the Navy", the vice-commander tells us. Greenpeace research has found out that this kind of care in dealing with radioactive waste has not always been the case. When a reactor melted down on board the nuclear-powered icebreaker Lenin during a maintainence routine in 1967, the radiating clump of metal was dumped in shallow waters off the coast of Novaya Zemlya. The island in the Barents Sea, north of Murmansk, had been used by the Soviets as a nuclear testing site for years. On October 30, 1961, a 58 megaton bomb was exploded there, until then the largest that had shaken the earth. The results of the more than one hundred nuclear tests: on the mainland across from the island the mortality rate due to cancer of the esophagus is the highest in the world, cancer of the liver occurs 10 times more often than the Russian average. Slavgorodsky looks at his watch; the audience is over: "I hope we've answered your questions." Another toast to the Fleet, another vodka, we all go to the door. "Tell us one more thing, Alexander Pavlovich. What ever happened to the ship from Lake Ladoga?" Slavgorodsky hesitates, then points his finger at a huge map: "Here it was towed through these canals to the north." Where to, where is it now? "It's been disposed of. We dumped it again. Near Novaya Zemlya." **************************** [Greenbase Inventory July 1, 1992 ] =======##=======