I am convinced that the first crew selected for a flight to Mars will consist of shift workers from the Russian North.
In terms of landscape and temperature, Yamal and Taimyr are already surprisingly close to Martian conditions. Of course, we should also mention Antarctica and the polar explorers who stay on the ice for a full year at a time. Those are special people.
They are like shock troops dropped from ordinary life in every city across Russia straight into extreme conditions the moment the helicopter doors open. Not everyone can do the same thing day after day for 30, 45, or even 60 days in spartan conditions. And yet every man has his own function. If I don’t do it, someone else will.
I saw my first shift worker — a real “snowman” — back in 1982 at Tyumen airport. He was lying on newspapers spread across the floor, just like all the others of his breed. The airport had been closed for the third day running because of a blizzard. I had flown in from Ufa after sitting there for forty-eight hours myself.
The shift workers were well oiled and sleeping like bears. One of them opened one eye and asked his mate:
“Mikola, what’s the date today?”
“Twelfth.”
“So we’ve been here ten days since we flew in from Urengoy?”
“Yeah… almost time to head back out to the shift.”
“Got any money left?”
“Ran out yesterday.”
Those were the “dinosaurs” from Ukraine. They wore dog-fur unties, fur hats, and old flight jackets zipped up to the throat. You don’t see dinosaurs like that anymore. Nowadays everyone flies in dressed to the nines, smelling of decent cologne. The only thing that remains from that era is the moment a shift worker opens his mouth — and you instantly know: it’s him.
Any oil or gas field, big or small, has a standard set of professions, just like on a submarine. It’s a crew exactly like the crew of a spacecraft. Two months flying to Mars, working as a team, then returning to Earth.
After everything I’ve seen in the North, I believe this is completely realistic.