Belomorsk is the town at the northern end of one of the most notorious building projects in Soviet history. The White Sea-Baltic Canal, which runs more than two hundred kilometres from Lake Onega to the White Sea, was dug in the early 1930s in just twenty months, largely by hand, by prisoners of the Gulag. Tens of thousands of them died in the process, from cold, hunger and exhaustion, and the canal, though celebrated by propaganda at the time, turned out to be too shallow for most large ships. The last lock stands at Belomorsk, where the Vyg River meets the sea, and it is hard to look at it without thinking of the cost.
The town was called Soroka before 1938, a Pomor fishing and trading settlement on the western shore of the White Sea, and the old name still appears in local speech. About twelve thousand people live here, in a mix of wooden houses, Soviet blocks and the industrial buildings of the port. It has a small, grey, seaside feeling, with cranes, rail sidings, a sawmill smell and a cold wind off the water. The sea itself is shallow and tidal only a little, and in winter it freezes solid.
Far older than anything modern are the petroglyphs near the town, carved into the granite shore by Stone Age hunters about five thousand years ago. The Belomorsk rock carvings show elk, boats, hunters, and dancing figures, and they are part of the same tradition as those at Lake Onega.
The road here, part of the main highway to Murmansk, is a good modern surface with long straights, forest and the odd stretch of roadworks. Heavy lorries are the main hazard, and rain makes the road slick. Summer days are long, and mosquitoes are fierce in July. September is quiet and golden, and the sea air is clean and cold.
Fuel is no problem, with several stations in town, as well as shops, cafés and a couple of hotels. It is a good place to fill up before heading north toward the coast. Walk down to the lock if you can, and spend a quiet minute there.