When a Russian Bomber Crashed in Canada

It was 1939, just before war broke out in Europe.

New York was hosting the World’s Fair, and the Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin wanted to impress. What better than a non-stop flight from Moscow to New York? Nothing of the sort had ever happened.

So it was on April 28, 1939 pilot Vladimir Kokkinaki and navigator, Mikhael Gordienko lifted off from Russia to cross the Atlantic to land triumphantly in New York, showcasing Russian aeronautical prowess. To maintain radio contact, Soviet submarines were deployed across the Atlantic, and the aircraft had additional fuel tanks and flotation devices. The airplane, a huge Ilyushin TsKB-30, was a tried and true Soviet bomber which was later to make devastating bombing runs over Berlin. But that was for later.

Kokkinaki and Gordienko flew westward across the Atlantic for twenty trouble-free hours and were approaching the North American continent. All seemed routine, but as they got closer to the coastline, a vast storm front blocked their way. The Soviet airmen donned their oxygen masks and ascended to 9,000 metres, where the temperature was -54°C. Violent winds tore the craft’s radio antenna away, leaving the crewmen in radio silence. The compass froze and they were in thick cloud. Blind, deaf, and mute. A nightmare.

Bad enough that the flyers had no idea where they were, but the navigator lost consciousness. The pilot Kokkinaki had little choice but to slowly descend to see where they were. Maybe he could find somewhere to crash land.

Dropping through the clouds, Kokkinaki saw an island with a lighthouse. The sun was setting, there was no time to waste, the navigator still unconscious, and the pilot knew he had little choice but to land somewhere, anywhere, to avoid ditching the craft into the sea.

As he dropped through the clouds, Kokkinaki saw a bog directly in front of him, and he slid the aircraft, his beautiful Ilyushin TsKB-30, into a New Brunswick bog. Miscou Island, just off la peninsule acadienne. The aircraft slithered to a stop, its propellers twisted and warped, but the machine otherwise intact.

The navigator regained consciousness and the two men drew their side arms and exited the plane. A local resident, a unilingual francophone Acadian, showed up quickly, the guns were put away, and the Russians taken for warm food and a well-deserved sleep.

The Royal Canadian Air Force and some wealthy Americans made sure that Kokkinaki and Gordienko ultimately made their way to New York, where they had a hero’s welcome. The aircraft itself slowly made its way back to Russia, by barge and freighter. The lonely little lighthouse on Miscou Island, which watched over the whole escapade, still awaits your visit.

If you adore absolute silence, the salt wind on your face, the white sand beneath your feet, you could do much worse than Miscou Island, where in the lighthouse you’ll see a storyboard telling about Moscou à Miscou.

I recommend it.

And there’s lobster.