(Book 1) Les dernières années de la cour de Tzarskoié-Sélo

 

CHAPTER 9

SUMMARY. – Trip to the fjords, — Standart, the Imperial yacht. — Its Commander Chagin. — Nilov, Captain of His Majesty’s ensign. — Departure for the fjords. — In Cronstadt harbour. — At Bjorke. — Excursion to the Abos fjords. — The catastrophe of 29 August, — Schemann’s clumsy report. — Their Majesties on the Asia. — Transfer onto the Alexandria. — Refloating work on the Standart. — Assessment of the damage. — The Standart is taken to the harbour, — Living arrangements on the Polar Star, — Life in the fjords. — Hunts. — Baron Osten-Sachen. — A. A. Vyrubova and her family drama. — Birilev and Frederiks. — Small boat incident. — A clever remark from Birilev. — My conversation with the Emperor. — My photographs. — Return to Peterhof. — Gratitude for our service. — Gossip and talk, — Transformation into a regiment of the guard battalion.

 

That year, the Emperor had not yet definitively chosen where he wanted to spend the larger part of the trip. The town known as ‘Kotka’, which Alexander III had liked very much, was not quite to his taste. A cross was planted on one of the mountains in Bomarsund, in memory of a victory seized by Peter the Great over the Swedes at Gang- Oud after having men transport his boats, Peter surrounded the Swedish fleet, and destroyed it. One section of the squadron accompanying the Standart, including the Asia, was sent from Bjorke to the destination; and the Standart took advantage of the fair weather to embark on a short cruise, before in turn heading to Bomarsund. I, and a section of my ‘guards’ as the seamen called them, found ourselves on one of the torpedo boats accompanying the yacht, in anticipation of possible disembarkation on the coast.

The 29th of August was a magnificent, calm day, the sea was glassyand the Standart sailed majestically, accompanied by torpedo boats.
After lunch, we stopped at a small island, and Their Majesties and their children set foot on land. They took quite a long walk, built a pyramid of stones together, and returned to the yacht in high spirits. The squadron set off again, in a line, led by our torpedo boat. Small islands were to be seen all around us, as if a sea giant had randomly scattered large green balls on the seas surface, among which our ships sailed carefully one at a time.
The beautiful and powerful Standart navigated with caution, as if it feared disturbing the calmness of the sea surface. We admired it from the deck of our vessel. My Captain, a true sailor, enthusiastically detailed its beauties to me. Our torpedo boat entered a strait, we passed a small isle, known as Great Scher, on our right, it seemed really quite close, almost as if one could touch it; there were several little islands on our left, and we watched as the Standart and the torpedo boat following it entered the strait.
Then suddenly right before our eyes, the Standart is hit by a violent jolt, propelled forward, and keels over slightly onto her right side.
‘They have hit a reef,’ the Commander cries.
‘Steer to port. Lower the boats,’ he shouts hurriedly, and our torpedo boat, after making a fast semi-circle, quickly advances towards the yacht. The torpedo boat following the Standart had already reached the yacht and was carefully maneuvering along side.
At the time they had run aground, the Tsar, his family, and the people in his entourage were taking tea in the rubka. Suddenly, they had heard a very loud noise. The china and window panes shattered, and everyone rushed out of the dining room.
The yacht was now listing on its side. From below came the mournful chiming of the clocks, the alarm was sounded, then for a few seconds, a deadly silence hung over the yacht.
‘A shoreboat for His Majesty’s descent,’ the strangely metallic voice of Chagin resounded around the yacht. It seemed to awaken everyone. Everyone sprang to life and started running. Derevenko carried the Tsarevitch, who had been left in his special care, and ran forward shouting, the Emperor silenced him immediately and brought him back to his senses. He was admirably calm. In the meantime, each grewmember completed the tasks assigned to them in cases of an emergency. The boats were lowered, and all the watertight bulkheads were closed.
Hahn the photographer, who worked in the cabins deep in the bilges of the yacht, was almost trapped in his tiny darkroom by one of these bulkheads; he only just had enough time to escape, and I saw him rushing around the deck, in an absolute panic.
The Tsar’s cooks were terrified, and were being calmed down by Prince Putiatin. It soon became apparent that it would be dangerous for Their Majesties to stay on the yacht.
The Emperor and Empress, obviously very disappointed, had already started to gather up their belongings which had been scattered throughout their cabins. Lieutenant Sablin transported all the children to the yacht Eyleken, which carried Finnish chief pilot, Admiral Schemann, and where Their Majesties soon also came to settle in.
The Admiral Schemann received the Tsar, informing him, as usual, that ‘no incident had taken place as part of the piloting to which he had been assigned.’
‘And this doesn’t count?’ the Emperor asked him, indicating towards the yacht grounded on the reef, the Admiral was unable to respond.
The yacht had been piloted by the chief of the Finnish ‘lotzman’ pilots, an elderly man who had travelled the fjords for more than forty years. So! how could this mishap have happened? At this time, there were still Finnish pilots on all our warships. A Finnish pilot also manned the torpedo boat commanded by the second-rank Captain, Balk, who was also a veteran in the fjords.
On learning of the disaster, he first dealt a resounding slap to the pilot standing next to him on the gangway, then hurried so quickly to the Standard that the yards of his vessel been broken.
It was Admiral Essen who later put an end to the reliance of Finnish pilots for our warships. His torpedo boats were soon able to navigate through the fjords using their own means.