The old sailing ship "Comrade" lived a rich, interesting and useful life. On its decks, the first commanders of the Soviet merchant fleet underwent maritime practice, followed by several generations of captains. Under the name "Lauriston" the ship was launched on October 17, 1892 from the stocks of the shipyard "Workman and Clary" in the Irish port of Belfast.
By the type of sailing equipment it was a four-masted ship - a typical "jute" clipper. But it cannot be equated with the fast "tea" clippers. The era of the latter, by the time Lauriston was launched, had passed. Steam engines slowly but surely drove the sails out of the seas and oceans. The final blow to sailing ships was the opening of the Suez Canal, which shortened the route from India and China to Europe by 3000-3600 miles. The swift clippers have left this urgent line. For sailing ships, there were distant ocean lines to South America and Australia, which did not have enough bunkering bases for the steamers. Clippers retained their cargo transportation on the "woolen" line from Australia, "saltpeter" - from South America, "jute" - from Southeast Asia. The preference was given here not to speed, but to capacity. Huge four and five-masted sailing ships appeared, the holds of which, not occupied by boilers and machines, took a lot of cargo. Their appearance was facilitated by the progress of shipbuilding - the hulls of sailing ships were made of steel sheets. Lauriston was just such a ship.
The first owner of the ship was the London company "Golbraith and Moorhead", which had five more large sailing ships in its fleet. Lauriston was sent on flights along the Eastern Trade Route, from Europe to the countries of Southeast Asia. He went there, like all sailing ships of that time, around Africa. The main cargo of the ship to European ports was jute. The renowned maritime historian and chronicler Basil Lubbock indicates the duration of some of Lauriston's journeys: in 1897 he came from Liverpool to Rangoon in 95 days, in 1899 - from Holyhead to Calcutta in 96 days, and in 1901 - from Liverpool to Rangoon in 106 days. It was quite a decent speed, although far from the records of the famous clippers "Thermopyla" and "Cutty Sark".
During this period, the firm of Lauriston's owners began to be called Golbraith, Hill & K, but things were not going well. Of the six vessels, only one Lauriston remained. In 1905 it was sold to the London firm "Duncan & Co." The new owners put Lauriston on a wool line in Australia. Almost every such flight was around the world. Having accepted the cargo in Australian ports, sailboats, using the prevailing westerly winds - the "roaring forties", crossed the Pacific Ocean, skirted Cape Horn and then ascended north in the Atlantic.
Lubbock mentions that in 1908-1909 Lauriston made the transition from Australian Tambi Bay to Falmouth in 198 days. By this time, to reduce the number of crew members, he had already been rearmed as a bark. In 1910 Lauriston was sold to Cook & Dundas for £ 4,000 and remained under the English flag for another four years.
During World War I, tsarist Russia bought Lauriston from the British along with another four-masted ship, Katanga. Both ships were used as sea barges: they were towed, although the sailing equipment was preserved. The ships transported military equipment from England to Arkhangelsk, rails to Murmansk for the railway under construction to Petrograd.
During the intervention "Lauriston", along with some other ships, was hijacked by the White Guards to England. The Soviet government insistently demanded the return of the illegally seized ships. The lawsuits have brought partial success. Some ships returned to us. In 1921 "Lauriston" came and was laid up in the Petrograd port. Soviet Russia was then experiencing difficult days - the Western countries pursued a policy of economic blockade. It was required to establish a foreign trade exchange of goods. Steamships went on the first voyages. But there were few serviceable ships. They also remembered the idle sailboat, its spacious holds could come in handy.
Lauriston was assigned to sail to Tallinn. The bark was tidied up and painted. With great difficulty they manned the crew - war and devastation scattered sailing sailors throughout the country. Both civilian and military sailors were enrolled in the crew - there was not much difference between them. We recruited about fifty sailors of various nationalities. Estonian K. Anderson became the captain, the Latvian V. Sprogis became the chief officer, the Russian Y. Panteleev became the assistant, the Finn I. Urma became the boatswain.
Description of the first voyage of "Lauriston" under the Soviet flag was preserved in the published memoirs of its participant Yu. Panteleev - later the admiral. Lauriston went to sea in August 1921 with more than a thousand tons of rails in her four holds. At sea he was greeted by a steady westerly wind. The bark did not have a car, and under these conditions it could move by tacking, but in the mined Gulf of Finland it was impossible to go beyond the boundaries of the swept fairways. The sailboat was taken in tow by the steamer "Yastreb". At the island of Gotland, floating mines had to be avoided twice. The team worked and lived in difficult conditions. There was no heating or lighting: candles were burning in the cabins, and kerosene lamps in the wardroom and dining room. The food was scarce.
The Hawk successfully towed the Lauriston to Tallinn. The authorities meticulously examined the vessel, carefully checked the documents, but there was nothing to complain about. With the help of the team from Lauriston, they unloaded the rails, accepted flour in sacks. The vessel had winches and a small steam boiler for their operation. Cargo work was carried out with knock-tackles fixed on the lower yards. Before leaving for the homeland, it became known that the Estonian government had sentenced to death six local communists and Komsomol members. Tallinn underground fighters prepared their jailbreak and asked for help. Naturally, the team at Lauriston decided to help out. Fishermen in their boats took the fugitives to the roadstead, and there they swam to the Lauriston. All six were hidden in the hold among the sacks, leaving food, water and dry clothes.
In the morning, the port authorities, not finding anything suspicious, issued a departure, and Lauriston headed for Petrograd. The reverse transition was not without a curiosity. The ship was returning in tow at the Hawk, but off the island of Roadsher, it was caught in a storm, and the thick cable snapped. With difficulty they brought in another, but he soon burst. Then they set up the lower topsails, and went on their own. The speed reached 7-8 knots and the Yastreb fell behind. On the Great Kronstadt roadstead, Lauriston was supposed to anchor. The topsails were removed, but the windage of the hull and spars was so great that the ship continued to move at high speed. There was not enough space to turn around, and then setting the sails again, the ship independently entered the Sea Canal, and then into the Neva. At the Iron Wall, more than one mooring line was torn, while it was possible to tame the accelerated ship.
The following years were marked by a wide scale of work on the restoration of the Soviet navy. They also thought about training naval command personnel. For their practice, it was decided to allocate a ship - a sailing ship. A specially convened commission examined the Lauriston and Katanga, found the first one in the best condition and sent it for re-equipment. The work went slowly. There was a lack of materials and hands. Great help, as was often the case in those days, was provided by the enthusiasts - the sailors of the Baltic Shipping Company. Living quarters for trainees were built on the bow twindeck, the holds were left under the load. The refurbishment was completed in 1923. The sailboat received a name popular for that era - "Comrade".
At the end of 1924, already as a training ship, "Comrade" made the first overseas voyage with trainees to England. A shipment of scrap metal was delivered to Port Talbot. Here the captain handed over the bark to the senior officer M. Nikitin, and he brought the sailboat to Leningrad with holds full of coal. Soon the "Comrade" underwent a thorough overhaul at the Hamburg shipyards. The sailboat's displacement reached 5000 tons. Four masts up to 51 m high carried 33 sails with a total area of 2,700 sq. m. In a good wind, the ship could sail at a speed of up to 12 knots.
After the repairs, the "Comrade" entered the Swedish port of Lisekil and took the cargo of diabase - paving stones for street paving - into the holds. But the long-haul flight to South America did not start well. On entering the ocean, the "Comrade" was caught in a violent storm. For seventeen days the elements rattled the ship. The barque was carried away far to the north, and he was forced to take refuge in the Norwegian port of Vardo. New sails were in tatters, rigging in tatters. Continuing the voyage was out of the question. The "Comrade" was towed to Murmansk and anchored. The renovation began again.
In Murmansk, a new captain was appointed to the ship - an experienced sailor and educator, director of the Leningrad Maritime College D. Lukhmanov. After putting the ship in order and urgent repairs, replacing part of the crew and trainees, "Comrade" on June 29, 1926 left Murmansk. When shooting from a barrel, he was helped by icebreaker No. 6 and the port steamer "Felix Dzerzhinsky". Having covered the shrouds, the crew, according to the old maritime tradition, shouted "Hurray" three times, saying goodbye to the city. Towards nightfall, which, however, was not due to the sun not setting here in summer, the heavily loaded barque went out into the ocean.
It was assumed that in connection with a strong headwind, the icebreaker would take the "Comrade" in tow beyond the North Cape. However, the storm intensified and the towing speed dropped to two knots. I had to give up the tug, and on July 2, the long-awaited command was heard: "I went all the way up, set the sails!" Maneuvering against the stormy wind, "Comrade" rounded the rocky North Cape and began to descend to the south. But the storm was getting worse. The pitching became terrible, the barque heeled up to 25 ° to the wind and 40 ° to the wind. Waves swept across the deck. Large, human-sized, the steering wheel went out of control and tried to throw the helmsmen overboard. The three-inch rope hoists, brought in to help the starboard, burst like laces. The tackle was torn. The old sails were of great concern: they were so worn out that they showed through at the seams, had many holes, eaten by rats. The crew had a hard time. The oncoming stormy weather required the systematic setting and retraction of the sails; for turns when tacking, it was necessary to cast the yards. It was difficult to stay on the swaying yards at a height of 20-30 meters above the deck. Wet, blown by the wind, stubborn sailcloth demanded tremendous efforts from the sailors. Blood oozed from under the sailors' nails. The skin cracked on the palms and fingers. Oilcloth jackets and padded jackets worn under them did not save from the cold rain. The waves rolling onto the deck covered the sailors with their heads. Only a month after leaving Murmansk, the "Comrade" crossed the North Sea, entered the English Channel and dropped anchor in anticipation of the pilot off the Isle of Wight.
It should be noted that each shooting from anchor was sheer torture. The training vessel had two four-ton anchors of the Admiralty type. They were not pulled into the haws, but were attached suspended overboard - a rather complicated operation that took a lot of time. But in order to start it, it was necessary to choose an anchor-chain. This was done using a hand spire with eight levers - punches. Groups of 16 trainees, replacing each other, nursed around the spire for a long time.
Having accepted the pilot, "Comrade" proceeded in tow to Southampton. On the way, he passed the start of international sailing races, which were led from the yacht by the English king George V. The team and students watched the regatta with interest, and, in turn, delighted the British by quickly removing and fixing all the sails.
The training ship "Tovarishch" was of solid size, and none of the crew considered it small. But in Southampton, the transatlantic liner Majestic was moored at the stern of the Tovarishch. The neighborhood was shocking - next to this giant the sailboat seemed like a small boat. The "Comrade" spent more than a month in the English port. During this time, almost all of the running rigging was changed and the standing rigging was tarred, new sails were sewn, the old ones were patched and dried, and the deck was dug. An infirmary, a red corner, a library were equipped, showers were made for pouring in the tropics. The ship received a motor boat. The most important acquisition was a new radio station - the old one was so weak and imperfect that the training sailboat at sea had almost no connection with the land.
We managed to equip the trainees and the team. During the month's stormy march, everyone's clothes were pretty frayed. Everyone worked in what he had - the country did not yet have the means to teach, feed and clothe students of naval technical schools for free. At that time, work clothes were often also everyday. The company servicing passenger ships quickly and efficiently fulfilled the order for sewing the uniform. The crew received dark blue and white suits, woolen sweaters with the words "Comrade", navy caps, canvas robe and boots.
Parking in Southampton was both helpful and enjoyable. The future commanders of the merchant fleet visited the giant passenger liners "Leviathan", "Majestic", "Mauritania", got acquainted with their design. The excursion to London was interesting. The British liked the impeccable cleanliness on the Soviet training sailing ship, the strictest discipline and, at the same time, the simplicity of the relationship between privates and chiefs. Before going out into the ocean, the crew of the "Tovarishch" stocked up with meat, fish, bread, fresh water, and fruit. There were not enough fresh supplies in the sea for a long time - there were no refrigerators then. They ate poorly and monotonously: eternal corned beef, biscuits, dried cod, canned food, pies with potatoes, warm drinking water.
On September 8, tugs took the "Comrade" out of the port, but the dead calm forced him in the literal sense of the word "to wait for the weather by the sea." Pomor sailors began to conjure: they threw splinters over their heads, sang spells, and threw a sliver with a cockroach into the water. The trainees, for the most part, former Komsomol members, and, consequently, atheists, looking at this, laughed, and the "sorcerers" themselves did not believe much in fortune-telling, but this custom was carried out from grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and the elderly Pomors were superstitious. Only five days later a light northern breeze began to blow. The sailboat weighed anchor, but soon returned, as the wind became headwind. Only on September 17, the "Comrade" went out into the ocean. However, the wind was weak. The vessel lazily pushed the ocean wave apart with its blunt nose, making from two to four miles per hour.
October 4 "Comrade" approached the island of Madeira - a quarter of the way across the ocean. The next day I anchored in the Funchal roadstead. It was a holiday - the anniversary of the overthrow of the monarchy in Portugal. The townspeople warmly greeted the Soviet sailors who appeared on the streets of the city. But the governor of the island, referring to instructions from Lisbon, by the evening of the first day, forbade the crew to go ashore. Having replenished stocks of fresh water, food and fruit, "Comrade" on October 8 again went out into the ocean. Due to weak trade winds, the ship slowly moved south. The intense tropical heat made itself felt. It was impossible to walk barefoot on the upper deck. The black, red-hot bulwarks were dangerous to touch. The cockpits and cabins were unbearably stuffy, aggravated by the smell of kerosene lamps in the evenings. Despite the doctor's advice and the captain's orders, some of the trainees overheated in the sun and suffered severe burns.
In the equatorial calm zone, violent squalls with rains fell on the "Comrade". On November 16, the ship crossed the equator. From the tropic of Cancer to the zero parallel, the sailing ship went for a month: they were tormented by calm. Lazy swimming in the warm ocean played a nasty joke on the ship: the dense green grass on its underwater part reached half a meter. But it wasn't all bad. The delay in swimming gave the students an opportunity to practice well in astronomical definitions.
On the passage across the ocean, those free from watch hunted for sharks, collected flying fish that fell on the deck. British seafarers of long voyages, emphasizing their difference from the coasters, like to call themselves "sailors of the flying fish." The crew of the "Tovarishch" also received the right to this comic, but honorary title. After long days of calm weather on the approaches to La Plata "Comrade" was hit by a three-day pamperus - a hurricane storm with rain. It was necessary to enter the river mouth by lot because of the fog. On December 25, the barque dropped anchors in Montevideo, and on January 5 arrived at the port of destination - Rosario in Argentina and delivered the cargo. On the way back, the "Comrade" received a quebrach tree in Buenos Aires. A change of captains took place here. First Mate E. Freiman received "Comrade" and brought him from South America to Leningrad. The return trip ended on August 13, 1927.
After a halt in Leningrad, "Comrade" went to Kiel for repairs in winter, and then headed around Europe. On February 24, 1928, on a moonlit night in the English Channel near Dungeness, the Comrade noticed almost on the bow the fire of an approaching ship. As it was established later, it was the Italian steamer "Alcantara". To attract attention, a flare was immediately lit on the sailboat. But the steamer, instead of giving way to the "Comrade", unexpectedly turned to the right and placed its side under the stem of the sailboat. On the "Comrade" they managed to shift the steering wheel on board, but failed to prevent a collision. The sailboat hit the steamer, and it sank with the crew. Only one stoker managed to escape, who by some miracle grabbed the rope from the sailboat. The "comrade" was damaged in the hull and was detained in the English port until the circumstances of the collision were clarified, then went to Hamburg for repairs.
The examination of the case and the appeal of the parties took more than two years. Initially, the English admiralty court found a sailing ship guilty, which allegedly could have misled the steamer by burning a flare. Then the case was considered in the court of appeal. Having carefully considered all the circumstances, the court canceled the first decision, recognized the actions of the "Tovarishch" as correct and placed all responsibility for the collision on the Italian steamer, qualifying its unexpected turn towards the sailboat as "an insane act." The court's decision was finally approved by the House of Lords on November 27, 1930. After repairs "Comrade" in 1928 came to the Black Sea. Here the ship changed its appearance somewhat. The sides were painted with a wide horizontal white stripe with fake cannon ports. In this image, he was remembered by many sailors.
For many years then he sailed in the Black Sea-Azov basin, was assigned to the port of Odessa. Over the years, experienced captains K. Saenko and P. Alekseev commanded the training ship. The main boatswain in the early thirties was G. Mezentsev - later the captain of the heroic motor ship "Komsomol", the head of the shipping company; at one time I. May served as the boatswain of the mast - then the famous captain. Visits of the "Tovarishch" to the ports became a local holiday, arousing the admiration of residents and holidaymakers. On the picturesque shores of the Crimea and the Caucasus, the white-winged ship seemed like an alien from fairy tales. The romance of the sails also attracted filmmakers to the ship. Several films have been filmed on its decks and masts. "Comrade" was an excellent school for young sailors. Subsequently, many of them became famous captains of the Soviet merchant fleet.
The German attack on the Soviet Union in the summer of 1941 found the "Comrade" on a regular training voyage. The war changed all plans. The ship was left without its usual business. "Comrade" took part in the removal of equipment from the evacuated factories to the East. But these voyages were made not under sail, but in tow. By autumn, the sailing ship ended up in Mariupol. Here "Comrade" was captured by the Nazis. The vessel remained afloat and during 1942-1943 was used by them as the barracks of the Croatian "Naval Legion". It later died in the outport. Only the burnt hull and masts remained above the water. Various Russian network sources indicate a variety of dates for the sinking of the ship: 1941, 1943 and even 1944. "Comrade" was allegedly blown up by the Germans, shot by German tanks or even by a German coastal battery. In the Register of ships of the USSR Ministry of the Navy, who died during the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945. in the Black Sea-Azov basin - "Comrade" is indicated in the column "Ships blown up and flooded by order of the command" - as "damaged during shelling, abandoned." After the war, the remains of a training sailing ship were removed, and its anchor, raised from the bottom, was erected as a monument in the port park of Zhdanov.
The name "Comrade" was inherited by another sailing ship, which after the war was raised from the bottom of the sea in the area of the Baltic port of Stralsund. The former training ship of the German navy, bark Gorch Fock II, was handed over to the Soviet Union for reparations, and later, under the name Comrade, it received the right to sail under the State flag of the USSR.
