'It was a rather cold February day when Duncan and I made the decision to go and search for the rumoured Soviet naval base. Not only was it a former naval base but it was also a nuclear base with a nice, big reactor that was only taken away about eight years ago. Obviously this was quite intriguing so we asked how to get there. Basically all we knew was that we were going to Paldiski on the bus from Tallinn and were to walk towards a lighthouse. Never turning down the opportunity for an adventure, we went to the bus station and were on our way to an old Soviet base in the middle of nowhere.
The snow began getting heavier the farther away we got from Tallinn. The bus was mostly full of school kids who lived in small villages outside the city. After 30 minutes or so all the kids were gone and we were the only ones left. I had a really strange feeling in my stomach upon seeing we were the only ones on this bus. It almost felt like we were in some sort of time machine and that anyone with the slightest bit of sense or good judgement got off that bus long ago. In some ways this was true, at least about the time machine, because as we approached Paldiski it made me think I had entered the 1960s.
As the bus neared the town, large buildings started to appear. First there were some very grey and decrepit apartment blocks very typical of the suburbs of any former Soviet city. Past these blocks on the right side of the road was the real indication that this indeed was a place where time never elapsed. A very large factory stood on our right with large Cyrillic letters on the top. It was most certainly not in use but instead was left there as a reminder of the past. Excited and intimidated we exited the bus at the station, which was more like one parking space next to a kiosk, and proceeded to find our lighthouse.
Neither of us had any idea which way to go. The only thing we knew was that it wasn’t the way we came in to town. Our guidebooks didn’t say much about this place at all and it certainly didn’t mention how to find the lighthouse. The city centre, if I can call it that, was very dark and tattered. All the buildings were in various states of decay, some of which were abandoned altogether, there were hardly any shops and there were not a lot of people around. The people that we did see looked very different from their fellow citizens in Tallinn. Most looked very tired, as if life was just one big struggle to get by. Had we really gone through a time warp on that bus? Regardless of what time period we were in we still had to find that lighthouse.
A lighthouse is detrimental to ship captains and fishermen. It lets them know how close they are getting to the shore and it also serves as a beam to reach the safety of dry land for anyone stranded in the ocean’s depths. However, I’m quite certain that when this lighthouse was put up it’s creator did not intend for it to be a guide for two crazy travellers trying to find some godforsaken abandoned Soviet naval base in the middle of nowhere! But like the determined fishermen stranded off the coast and desperately seeking the path to dry clothes and a warm meal, we persevered on our quest.
After 20 minutes of aimless wandering we decided to go left at the main road. This seemed the most likely way of the remaining choices as it was the widest street and was flanked by apartment blocks on both sides and had a clearing of fields towards the end of the rows. Our educated guess was rewarded with the sight of our beloved red lighthouse on a cliff in the distance. It looked quite far away still so we prepared ourselves for the journey and tried to contain our wild imaginations. To our surprise, signs of the old base presented themselves long before reaching the lighthouse.
It took about 10 minutes to walk out of town. The road had now become narrower and more damaged, fields of nothing lay to our right and leafless trees hiding the view of the ocean stood to our left. Decrepit shacks and house began to appear on the left side of the road now, among the trees. At first glance we thought them to be residences that couldn’t survive the passing of time however, upon further inspection, we realised that these must have been the barracks and officers’ quarters. We decided to explore them on the way back as we were too excited by what lay just past the lighthouse to stop now. Some other structures started to appear on the right side of the road. There were some small guard towers, storage containers and remnants of old walls. The road was now starting to climb uphill a bit and the ocean was now in plain view. The roaring waves and wind added to the oddity of this entire setting. The snow had stopped and the sky was now a perfect blue so the dark, grey, snowy world we entered on the bus had turned into something profoundly brighter.
Finally we reached the lighthouse. Just before it was the main guard tower, missing a brick or two, but still formidably standing guard of the base’s contents. We walked past it and right up to that red lighthouse we had been following for so long. After viewing our most gracious guide I happened to get a glimpse of something in the distance and my heart nearly stopped once I realised what it was. Old, abandoned Soviet naval bases do not have functioning radar equipment, an Estonian flag flying in the wind or barbwire fences surrounding the building the aforementioned are perched upon. Obviously this base was still in use and we were exploring military property with cameras in hand. We walked back out past the guard tower to decide what to do and we both agreed that we would just go back. We had no idea what lay beyond and as neither of us could say ‘we are just tourists, please don’t throw us in jail’ in either Estonian or Russian, we turned back.
Feeling a little bit defeated, we walked back to the barracks to begin exploring. Almost immediately our spirits were raised. Through the trees we spotted a large, single-story structure with a big red star above the arched doorway. It was now a faded pink but it was still highly recognisable, as were the accompanying Cyrillic letters. This must have been the officers’ quarters.
After some traversing of what was left of the property we headed down a small side road and found ourselves amidst the rows of barracks. It reminded me of something out of an old war film only we were the only ones present. I could imagine jeeps driving up and down this road, barracks full of young men, smoke rising from the fireplaces and the sight of soldiers marching with their weapons. Instead it was just the two of us, a lot of snow and whatever was left of these abandoned structures. My imagination was going wild as I thought of all the different events that could have taken place here that required this to be a closed city until not very long ago.
As we exited back onto the main road we came across our final, and most interesting, discovery. It was an old sign, probably for the entrance, that had naval ships and planes, a sailor’s face, red stars, the hammer and sickle and some Cyrillic writing.
Coming here was quite an experience for me as I was able to get a small understanding of what it must have been like in the old Communist days. It was also quite shocking to see the degree of difference between Paldiski and Tallinn even though they are less than two hours apart. Estonia is in contention for admittance to the EU, Tallinn hosted the Eurovision Song Contest, kids are wearing designer sport gear bought from Western chain shops, but one little coastal town still has not made the transition out of the Soviet Union.
So will my lighthouse ever get a makeover? Will he be seen by the same amount of tourists that gaze upon the Alexandr Nevsky cathedral or Toompea Castle? The answer is probably not. The history of this little town and its secret base will most likely fall into obscurity among the travelling masses. If only a lighthouse could talk.'
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