The MS Mikhail Bulgakov was the very latest addition to the ships cruising back and forth between Moscow and St. Petersburg. A budget version of the five-star vessels favoured by the foreign visitors, the steady increase in domestic tourism ensured the Bulgakov had a full complement of 442 passengers and crew. With four decks of relative luxury, the ship had been designed to provide an entertaining but relaxing experience for its passengers, the overwhelming majority of whom were Russian.
The Bulgakov’s tour along Russia’s scenic waterways took in the ancient cities of the Golden Ring before moving slowly on to St. Petersburg. Ahead was Uglich, home to the beautiful Church of Saint Dimitry on the Blood, and so far the trip had fairly routine; one crew member had failed to board before the Bulgakov had departed Moscow the previous evening but the ship’s entertainment officer had quickly rearranged the quotas to cope.
Four hundred kilometres to the north the Bulgakov’s sister-ship, the MS Konstantin Balmont, cruised slowly along the River Svir. Again there was a single crew-member missing; this time one of the kitchen staff.
The first bomb exploded aboard the MS Mikhail Bulgakov shortly after 7 a.m. local time, then eighteen minutes later the second on the MS Konstantin Balmont. Those sleeping aboard the Balmont were by far the luckier, the bomb blast sweeping through part of the main restaurant but causing no structural damage, and the subsequent fire was quickly extinguished. On the Bulgakov, the bomb shattered one of the lower-deck cabins, splitting the hull just below the waterline. Within fifteen minutes the vessel began to list, adding to the problems of the inexperienced crew struggling to launch the lifeboats. Despite there being no real danger, several panic-stricken passengers began to leap overboard, desperately striking out to the shore some four hundred metres distant. The hysteria and fear started to spread, people fighting each other to board the life-boats. Overcrowded and unstable, two lifeboats crashed into each other, spilling terrified passengers into the chilly waters of the Volga.
Even as the first news reports flashed onto the TV screens, a third explosion tore through the entrance chamber of the Mariinsky Palace, the home of St. Petersburg’s City Council. August 14 had chosen to spread its wings, its actions once again emphasising to the world the impotence of Russia’s security forces.