Trondheim was also one of Europe’s most popular pilgrimage sites during the Middle Ages. Its large Gothic cathedral, Nidaros, is where the kings and queens of Norway are crowned. But this week’s unusual flurry of activity in the area had none of the joy of a royal coronation. Instead, its purpose was to act as a launching pad for the British rescue attempt of the Kursk, the Russian submarine which sank last Saturday.
The British team–with its LR5 deep-sea rescue vessel riding aboard the converted freighter Normand Pioneer–steamed out of Trondheim on Thursday morning for the three-day, 950-mile trip to the stricken vessel in the waters off the Russian port of Murmansk.
The Trondheim groundwork, however, had been laid days earlier. “We were ready to go before official word came from the Russians,” said a British Ministry of Defense spokesperson. “At the early stage we were already thinking of Norway because we had not yet been officially invited by the Russians to set up operation there and by the time we got the word, preparations were already in place.”
Arvid Reppe, an employee of Strom, the company which handled the loading of the Normand Pioneer, was contacted Tuesday night to begin coordinating operations. “Everyone knew in the back of their minds the importance of what we were doing, so we worked quickly,” he said.
The LR5, described as an underwater helicopter, and the other supplies needed for the rescue operation were flown from Scotland on Wednesday afternoon to Vaernes airport near Trondheim. The materials were taken by trailers to the Nyhavna pier and were then lifted by a blue portal crane onto the ship. “We have a lot of experience in handling problematic transport,” said company managing director J. P. Strom. “I think that is a reason why arrangements concentrated on Trondheim.”
As local residents gathered to watch, about 70 people–including police officers, military representatives, British Embassy officials and dock workers–labored on the pier that night and morning. By Thursday afternoon, though, the bustle was over and the mission had left so few traces it was difficult for a visitor even to find the Transittgata pier from which the rescue vessels had left.
Crane operator Toroyeind Berd, who had spent 12 hours moving the rescue supplies, was now transporting white bags of Norweigan metal onto a blue ship. “For me,” he said philosophically, “it was just an ordinary mission.” For the families of the stricken Russian sailors, though, the mission from Trondheim is anything but.
