On the 30th Anniversary of Chernobyl

Exactly 30 years ago at the time I am posting this (01:23:40 am local Kiev, Ukraine time), the lives of over 300,000 people were changed forever. The Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant Unit Number 4 suffered a catastrophic accident that, to this day, is still the world’s worst nuclear power plant accident. It was not one single item that caused this epic accident, but many interconnected events. 

There were many moments along the timeline of events where this catastrophe could have been prevented beginning with these two factors - the type of reactor that was constructed and the people who managed it. Governmental nepotism allowed those in the industry to promote people based, not on their ability, but based on who they knew and some of these people were not the best in the field of nuclear power engineering. Additionally, this was a reactor design built not with safety in mind, but with low cost and efficiency for the creation of Plutonium for weapons - quite a valuable development to those in power.

Government organizations including: Soyuzatomenergo, Gidroproyekt, and Gosatomenergonadzor, which were responsible for the safe design and operation of Nuclear Power Plants in the USSR, were all aware of a scheduled experiment and its flagrant disregard for standard safety procedures, including the disconnection of all emergency cooling systems. These groups could have stopped the experiment, or changed the design parameters, but instead did nothing. Anatoly Dyatlov, Deputy Chief Engineer for the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Complex, who (in my opinion) is the individual with the greatest single responsibility for the accident due insisting on continuing the experiment even after the reactor had dropped below 200 MW thermal and had been poisoned by neutron absorbing fission by product (xenon). The governing organizations could have changed or halted the experiment. Today could have been like any other ordinary day, but they did not, and it is not.

On the night of the accident, Anatoly Dyatlov bullied Aleksandr Akimov (unit shift chief who took charge of the experiment at 12 am on the 26th of April 1986) and Leonid Toptunov (SIUR senior engineer of the reactor) and forced them continue to increase the reactor's power by removing more control rods beyond the minimum required by the defined safety protocols. Akimov and Toptunov both wanted to shut-down the reactor at approximately 1:00 am, but were vetoed by Dyatlov. At the time of the accident, only 11 of the required 28 control rods were inserted into the reactor's core.

At 1:23:04 am on the morning of April 26th, this experiment commenced and the main circulating pumps began cavitating almost immediately due to the excessive temperature of the inlet water. The cooling water in the reactor boiled-off and the power of the reactor began to increase. At 1:23:40 am, the AZ-5 button was pressed to immediately shut-down the reactor by lowering all control rods; however, due to the deformation of the fuel channels from the excessive heat, the control rods seized at a depth of about 6 feet into the reactor, instead of being inserted their full 25 feet. The reactor began to rumble and the control panel indicated no water flow and failure of the pumps.

The reactor power spiked in a matter of seconds from 200 MW thermal to over 30,000 MW Thermal (or about 10 times its operational design parameter). Dyatlov continued to believe the reactor was intact and continued to report this to his superiors. It was not until 10 am (approximately 9 hours after this reckless test commenced) that it was officially reported that the reactor had been destroyed and it was not until 2 days later that the rest of the world learned of this catastrophe.

In the aftermath of the accident, over 192 villages inside the Zone of Alienation (Zone of Exclusion) were evacuated and over 200,000 people were forced to leave their homes forever. To this day, the Zone of Exclusion, which is the size of the state of Rhode Island, is still off-limits and official permits are required to enter.

I have dedicated the past 6 years of my life attempting to document the results and inform the public about the consequences of human actions. My work is not meant to depress, but to inform and help us learn to appreciate the delicate and amazing world in which we live.

Whirlwind 14 Days

On November 12th, my friend, fellow adventurer, and filming partner, Arek, sent me an email letting me know we had been given permission to film in the Chernobyl Nuclear Reactor Complex again and, more importantly, we were also given permission to film on the actual construction site of the New Safe Containment Facility (aka. Sarcophagus 2), where we have not been permitted to film before.

I scrambled to make arrangements for the trip, including acquiring a DJI Osmo, DJI x5, and some bigger batteries for my Inspire. Thanks to Cliff Whitney and the amazing team at Atlanta Hobby (www.atlantahobby.com), I was able to receive the equipment less then 24 hours before I departed. I don't think Amazon Prime can even do that!

Check Point Dytyatka on the Southern end of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone

Mirion Technologies DMC 3000 Dosimeter reset to zero for the trip

On the 7th day of this expedition, we got word that we had been granted permission to film in several of the Red Zone towns in the Fukushima Exclusion zone. So... within 4 days of my return to the United States, I was back on a plane headed to Japan to film for the first time in Fukushima.

I arrived in Japan with about 50 lbs less gear then I had lugged to Chernobyl; this time trying to travel as lightly as possible (not an easy task). A large part of the weight reduction was in the remote aerial vehicle. I love shooting with the ever-smooth DJI Inspire 1 and the x5 has introduced some real excitement in the realm of aerial photography for me, but on this trip, I decided to pare down and just pack the DJI Phantom 3 Professional instead.

In addition to the Phantom, I rented a Canon 5Ds. Unfortunately, my trusty 5D Mark III had some major issues in Chernobyl and after nearly 150,000 shots it might need to be retired. I packed my 16-34 f2.8, 24-70 f2.8, and my 70-200 f2.8 along with my Metabones E to EF adapter, so I could exchange lenses between my still camera and my Sony FS7. I packed my Panasonic GH4 as my back-up camera just incase something didn’t work. I've learned that at least one back-up option for everything is a good idea on trips like this.

I left early Thursday, December 3rd from Denver, Colorado and one connection and 20 hours later, landed at Narita Airport, Japan with successful receipt of all gear. I checked into my hotel in Tokyo for a restless night's sleep before departing for the Fukushima Exclusion Zone early the next morning. Fukushima vs. Chernobyl. Certainly an interesting topic of research! 

Towelgate 2015

For radiation exposure control, guests to the zone can only stay for 4 consecutive days and then must leave for at least one night, but then are permitted to return the following day for another 4 consecutive days tops and then must depart again. Check-out time from Hotel 10 is noon; no late check outs, but Arek negotiated with the hotel staff for us to leave our bags in the room while we spent our last day with the DJI team shooting some critical locations. We returned at 4 pm sharp to throw everything into the van and peel out of the DITAKE zone checkpoint by 5 pm. 

On our way out of the front door, Arek was accosted by the hotel manager. He translated for us - 2 of the 4 weirdest color, thinnest, and least absorbent looking towels known to man from our room were missing. What did we do with them? Where were they? She thought we had stolen them. I insisted we did not. We had brought our own towels from home; I have been here once before and was aware of the towel situation. Not a chance I wanted to bring one of theirs back as a souvenir. I explained that the faux wood linoleum bathroom floor was extremely slick from the leaking shower (and I didn’t want to fall and kill myself), so I used one as a bathmat and left it in the bathroom - neatly folded, mind you, beside the shower in case someone else needed it. I was, in fact, sharing a bathroom with 5 men. Anyway, that was not a good enough excuse. Since we were on our way back to Kiev, I offered to bring her 2 new towels upon our return to the zone the following day, but she didn’t want new towels because they would not have matched the others. Hotel manager - 1. Elizabeth - 0.

You must complete an epic portion of paperwork for permits to enter the zone. The hotel has our passport numbers, addresses, birthdates, you name it. I just figured that soon enough, my identity would be stolen because I had (not) stolen these towels!

Tomorrow is our last day in the zone and it is also the hotel manager’s last day of work. She is required to retire and receive her pension. She was crying out front when Arek saw her earlier and she told him she found the missing towels. What a relief! But we will still leave our own extra towels here, along with flip flops purchased for the sole use of walking to and from the bathroom, extra granola bars, several packets of travel size tissues, a roll of Charmin, a small fan that Philip made me from a computer, so I could feel more comfortable at night (there’s no air conditioning here), and whatever miscellaneous items that will put our bags into the over-weight, extra fee handling section. Retired hotel manager - 1. Elizabeth - 1. Even Steven!

Another One Bites the Dust

One of the benefits of flying drones for film making is that they allow you to take a shot that might otherwise be impossible. Sometimes, in attempting to take that impossible shot, you have to push the boundaries of man and machine. This takes on a whole new meaning when you are flying in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.

We arrived in the zone with an Inspire 1 and (3) Phantom 3s. The first day of flying went great until inside the Natatorium Lazurney. Flying inside is tough as you typically don’t have access to the GPS satellites. The Phantom 3 has an optical flow system to allow more precise flying indoors and as long as you stay within its limits (no more then 3 meters above the floor), it is spot on. Of course, I violated those limits.  

The goal was to fly low across the empty abandoned pool’s shallow end and follow the slope into the deep end and then increase altitude to finally reveal the 7.5 meter diving platform. This flight went perfectly until I looked down at my screen just for a second and the Phantom struck the edge of the 7.5 meter platform clipping one of the props and spiraled down into the empty pool nearly 30 feet below.

Retrieving the drone was quite a feat. The slope into the deep end was about a 45 degree angle and 20 feet long. I climbed down the ladder in the shallow end and then slid down this slope, realizing on my way down that I had no idea how I was going to get out. (I did sense my fiancé, Elizabeth’s, eye rolling at this point, though.)

I walked over to the Phantom 3 to see what kind of damage I had done. To my surprise, it was pretty much in tact. I popped-out the battery, pushed it back in, and pressed the power button. The familiar “booting up” sound was music to my ears, but would it fly? My filming partner, Arek, and Elizabeth were standing 20 feet above me looking down. Arek had my remote, so I said, “Fire it up and let’s see if we can fly it out!” The props started, he increased the throttle, and the Phantom rose from the dead and out of the deep end.

Next was Arek’s turn to push the boundaries of man and machine. On day 2, we made our way to DUGA-3, an over the horizon radar system consisting of 30 towers rising 500 feet above the ground. (If you saw the movie “Divergent,” you will recognize DUGA-3 as it was the model for the fence around the city.) Arek decided he was going to climb to the top of the 40+ year old structure that has not been maintained for nearly 30 years and launch his Phantom 3 from the ground. His idea was to fly up the face of the tower and film himself standing at the top for a unique “dronie.”  

He made the flight up the face and had some great shots flying along DUGA-3. Then he attempted to fly between 2 of the upper tower piers. It didn’t go so well. He hit one of the towers and tore off the gimbal. Luckily, the aircraft landed on the top of the adjacent pier.  Arek had to climb down about 60 feet in order to reach the catwalk that connected the two towers and then back up 60 feet to retrieve his drone. The gimbal was not so lucky and fell down 500 feet to the ground, however, Arek did find it and retrieved the micro SD card. Amazingly, after all that, the Phantom 3 booted-up and was able to fly, though no longer had a gimbal.

Next up on the crash list was Paul Moore from DJI. Paul is an amazing pilot and really likes to push the boundaries of man and machine to capture that perfect shot. On our final day in the Chernobyl Zone with the DJI team, I took them to the Jupiter Factory on the southwest side of Pripyat. The factory supposedly made alarm clocks and radios, but when you see the machinery and the sheer size of the facility, it is quite obvious that it was there for something else. We suspect items for the Russian nuclear submarine fleet were manufactured there.

Part of the roof structure of the main manufacturing hall has collapsed and the giant concrete truss is laying across the floor. Paul launched his Phantom 3 and climbed into the debris of the collapsed roof to capture the first “dronie” inside the abandoned factory. As the drone accelerated overhead, it smacked into the dangling concrete structure and came crashing to the floor. I was on the other end of the factory hall having completed a flight when I heard the echoing crash. My Phantom 3 was having gimbal issues after the Natatorium crash, so thought, “Oh well, at least the Inspire 1 is still flight worthy.”

Paul climbed over the debris and found his drone, popped the battery back in and booted-up.  He recalibrate the compass and started the motors and it flew. That makes 3 crashes by 3 pilots and all 3 Phantom 3s continued to fly, albeit Arek’s and mine no longer had functioning gimbals.

On the final day of the trip for the DJI crew, Paul suggested a shot with the Phantom 3 where it would track in front of our van as it entered Pripyat’s infamous city center. Paul set up the Phantom and Arek, Elizabeth, and I (along with Sergei, our military minder) were in the van with the radio. Paul did a test flight quickly to make sure the shot would look correct and positioned ready to go. Keith, the sound operator, radioed to us and we began to drive slowly with Paul flying the Phantom in reverse. As we entered the city center, Paul increased the throttle to have the drone gain altitude and reveal the city. Well… there was a very tall tree behind Paul, in fact there are lots of tall trees in the abandoned city of Pripyat and Paul’s Phantom clipped one and came crashing to the ground.

He picked it up, popped-in the battery, and it booted-up. I am now completely amazed at the durability of the Phantom 3. As Paul gave the drone some throttle, we saw the damaged inflicted from the 40 foot fall. The gimbal and camera still worked, however, one of the motors would not rotate.

Enter “Franken Drone!” When you travel to the site of the world’s worst nuclear disaster, you have to be prepared for anything. You can’t just run to the local Home Depot to pick up necessities, so we got creative and stripped-off the salvageable parts from the various Phantoms and created one fully functioning version. We now have 2 flight worthy vehicles for the remaining 4 days. Maybe…

What Does the Fox Say?

With a 3 am alarm jolting us out of our "Hotel 10" late 1970s single beds, we geared up and headed to Pripyat at 4am. The sun rises at 4:58 am here and we prepared for a sunrise shoot in the city center. Cameras out and drones calibrating, a fox trotted up to us from the nearby bushes, seemingly without fear. Immediately, we all stopped what we were doing, like we had never seen a fox before, and started shooting this beautiful, yet skinny animal. Arek got out some wafer cookies and tossed them her way and she got almost close enough to eat a cookie out of his hand. I broke up a granola bar and sprinkled it out for her; she sniffed it and walked back to Arek for more cookies, which she brought over to a spot in front of the Hotel Polesie, dug a hole, and buried. She hung out with us for about 45 minutes until she wisely decided that she was totally over it and back to the woods she went. 

In addition to the fox, we've seen a small hedgehog waddling along the side of the road from Chernobyl to Pripyat, a lizard slithering his way around the rusty tracks at Yaniv train station, a very fuzzy gray cat at Hotel 10, another cat at one of the security check points outside of Poleski, working horses and donkeys around the town of Chernobyl, seagulls at the radioactive ship graveyard, persistent mosquitos, epic gnats after the rain, bees, major horseflies, bright red ladybug things on the ground in Pripyat, a moose standing in the middle of the road close to where there has been a recent forest fire, a wild boar (I missed it because I was dozing in the van), a pair of eagles soaring in front of our van when we left the church in Krasne after our wedding, and lots of dogs. All of the security checkpoints have dogs and puppies. I'm sure they'd be protective, if needed, but they greet us everyday with wagging tails and smiles. They must sense that we aren't a threat, thankfully. We haven't seen them yet this year, but Philip has video of the very rare Przewalski horses from a few years ago. 

The Church in the Woods

About 5 miles from the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant Complex and a mere 3 miles from the border of Belarus lies the abandoned village of Krasne (Красне). It is located on the left bank of the Pripyat River and was previously part of the Red Chernobyl area. The village was liquidated in 1986, the year of the nuclear explosion, and its residents where relocated to the Ivankov district, the equivalent to moving to a different county in the United States.

The winding, single lane drive to Krasne took about 45 minutes from the village of Chernobyl, so there was enough time to ponder the lives impacted in the villages that passed by my car window: Koshivka, Starosillia, and Zymovyshe - just a few of the over 188 villages evacuated after the catastrophe. Near the center of the village is the Russian Orthodox Church St. Michael’s built in 1800.

My fiancé, Elizabeth, joined me on this expedition, which was her 2nd time in the Zone. She originally encouraged me to photograph in Chernobyl and, as you can imagine, it has been a big part of our lives ever since. Considering that we wanted to have a small wedding that would have special meaning to us, we decided that Chernobyl should clearly be the place and the Church in Krasne should be the location. Although, neither Elizabeth nor I are Russian Orthodox, we were given special permission by the religious authorities in the Zone to be married in this historic location.

Encompassed by iron gates decoated with a cross and diamond motif stands this 215-year-old church, shockingly not as dilapidated as one might imagine. The peeling, thick, white painted exterior, the 8 feet tall, mustard-toned oak doors, the blue and green painted, hand-carved details and embellishments, and topped off with not one, but two patinated copper, classic, onion turrets (common for Russian Orthodox churches) all rise in the most beautiful, regal, colorful contrast amidst what is now a forest.  

Officially, St. Michael’s has not been used in decades, but is still in good condition. After viewing so many buildings that have become ruins, one can only look at this fascinating structure and imagine its future. The pews have all been removed and several of the decorative wall coverings have shed and paintings have disappeared. In the nave, a manoumalia (candle stand) and iconostasis (icon stand) are still poised and the center of attention. Accompanying these staples of a traditional Russian Orthodox church, there is a small table where people still come to leave offerings. There is a book on the table where the few, determined people who have managed to visit the church have written their prayers in order for the priest, who still oversees the church, to also pray. Elizabeth and I wrote ours and signed the book. We don’t think the priest speaks English, but we feel blessed nonetheless!

Drone down! Drone down!

A significant member of our team got injured today at our very first, but lengthy stop at "Chernobyl 2," otherwise known as DUGA-3.

This intimidating, 150 meter tall, steel tower wall was discovered after the Chernobyl catastrophe, which is crazy to believe because of it's incredible size. I have climbed to the top of it, photographed it, taken video of it, and flown my earlier drones around it, but flying the Inspire 1 would undoubtedly be more amazing than all of those mediums put together. With that in mind, DUGA-3 was our first stop of the day.

Guarded by a pregnant, feral, but sweet dingo and an over weight, middle aged, bald man in blue camo, the gate was opened for us and the DJI team gasped as we drove in. As Arek bravely set out climbing to the top, as usual (but this time with his Phantom 3 controls and a radio to Elizabeth to tell her when he was ready for her to turn it on), I prepared the Inspire 1 - calibrate, turn on the camera, review plan of action, etc. Arek had the Phantom up already and we heard a reverberating, rattling bang come from the his general location and then got the radio call, "I crashed the drone." He had attempted to fly between two of the 150 meter towers at the top where he was standing - the ultimate "dronie" (a selfie taken by a drone). Unfortunately, it was very windy that high up and too tight a spot to navigate through with the wind. Ah, it happens to the best of us.

I know that sinking feeling when you see your aircraft careen into something, but if you don't take risks in flying, you would never get a noteworthy shot. Arek was lucky. The drone toppled onto the top level of the DUGA-3, instead of falling 500 feet down to its death. He sheared off the camera gimbal, but the drone still flies. 

I was a bit more cautious than Arek and started the Inspire's flight with both me and the drone on the ground. I had learned my lesson with my two previous crashes in the zone, and even got a decent "dronie" on the DUGA, as well.

After flying at the DUGA-3 complex, I took the DJI team through the command building and one of the ancillary buildings near the antenna array. One of the first rooms we entered was a classroom where new radar operators would learn about how to manage the complex equipment and, more importantly, recognize the U.S. Intercontinental Ballistics Missiles (ICBM).  Around the perimeter of the room were drawings of about 10 to 12 different US ICMB. With my rudimentary knowledge of Russian, I was able to make out Cruise Missile, Minute Man 1 and 2, and the Trident ICBM.

The next stop was just a 15 minute walk down a concrete slab path to the main control room for the DUGA-3 radar complex. It is located on the 3rd floor of the main command building where it is very dark and my custom X-LED 14,000 lumen light came in handy. The large room is mostly empty of equipment now (most laying outside the building and pilfered through), but there are a few command consoles left with still colorful buttons and gauges after 30 years.

Overall, it was a fantastic day of flying and filming. We had several other stops, but DUGA-3 really requires a post all on its own.

Making a film about a film...Welcome DJI

I can finally let the cat out of the bag. DJI has sent a crew of three professionals to create a short film about me making a film in Chernobyl. We all met this morning and drove the 80 km together in a teal minivan along with my friend, filming partner and driving and translation expert, Arek, to the Chernobyl Nuclear Zone. I'd say the van was 70% gear and 29% man and 1% woman, just to keep us all in line.

When we arrived at the Check Point Dityatki, Arek and I had a conversation with the Chernobyl Secret Police to review our permit for flying drones in the Exclusion Zone. The area has been turned into a nature preserve and is managed by a different division in the Ukrainian government than years before, which is now no longer allowing drones to be flown. We applied for and received a special permit; however, the permit read "Inspire 1" and "Phantom 3" and did not state the quantity. Arek, in his Eastern European wisdom, told them we had one Inspire and three Phantoms. We provided them the serial numbers from the drones and then they let us pass. "Spasibo!"

After each flight, I was optimistic that everything went well. We shot about 224 gig of 4k video. After a massive dinner of borscht, bread, salad, fried chicken, French fries, and fruit puff pastries, I came back to the room and downloaded everything. the DJI Inspire 1, which is one of their newest drones, flew like a bird (or was it more a plane?). Either way, the footage blew me away. I managed to fly the farthest distance yet - the Inspire 1 from the southwestern most corner of the city from the roof of the 16 story Fujiyama building (which got its nickname from being so different in style from the other Soviet-styled architecture) out to a distance of 4,351 feet at an altitude of 250 feet across the abandoned city of Pripyat.

We made 8 flights today and plan to double that tomorrow as we fly around the DUGA-3, Krug, and City Center just to name a few high points.

Who needs sleep?

With the thought of Chernobyl meals hovering over our table at the hotel restaurant like a nuclear cloud, Philip and I met the DJI guys for dinner after 18 hours of travel, 2  lost drones, a broken down van, and gorged ourselves on chicken Kiev, perogies, and latkes. We prepped them to anticipate nuclear sized mosquitos and lots of pickled salads.

I then returned to our room to take a much needed shower (with the typical European hand shower and no fixed shower head, but who cares at this point?!) while Philip held court with the front desk manager to try to communicate with Delta and KLM about the impending (hopefully) arrival of the drone box. A 2 hour power nap later, we got the call at midnight that the driver had arrived to take Philip back to Boryspil, so he charged out with the customs paperwork, luggage claim tag, passport, cash, sheet marks on his face, and hope. I turned on the tv and waited.

Philip returned at 4 am with the drone box and a smile and so the battery charging ceremony commenced - rotating and charging the 15 LiPo batteries in anticipation of getting the proper permits approved by the time we leave for the zone in 5-4-3-2….

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Drone

I landed in Kiev at 1:05 pm local time. The flights were fine and, unsurprisingly, I slept most of the way. I made my way through to the customs line and waited. And waited. It is always confusing because the lines are titled "UA - EU Residents." In all my trips to the Ukraine, there has never been a queue for "Other Residents."

Seamlessly through customs with a "spasibo" and on to baggage claim... My 3 bright yellow LL Bean duffle bags that I have used for all my trips to Chernobyl were noticeably making their rounds on the carousel. Excellent sign. 

Missing-in-action was my Go Professional case with the drones. (Insert nervousness here.) I pulled-out the baggage claim tag for the drone box from the front pocket of my 511 Tactical carry on bag and made my way to another line at the lost baggage desk while Elizabeth guarded our 7 other bags.

This can not be good….

The lost baggage lady checked her computer and told me the drone box didn't even make it out of Atlanta onto my very first flight even though I got to the airport 3 hours early, I had a business class ticket, so all my checked baggage got a special tag, I have gold medallion status, and finally I brought the case to the Over-Sized Luggage desk and personally handed it to the TSA agent who said he'd make sure to take care of it. (Righhhht....)

I was asked to complete several forms all resembling elementary school type paperwork. On one of them, I had to list the items in the case and their value, which totaled well over $6,000 USD. She then pointed me to the customs agent desk to get that form stamped, and then said to return it to her. Umm, ok.

Lots of Construction in Kiev

As we walked to the customs area, I flagged down one of the agents and showed him the form. He looked puzzled and asked me if "it new" (meaning the drones). I said, "Yes" and he told me to go to the Red Zone (a Red Zone can never be good). He looked over the form, talked to a few other agents, and again asked me what was in the case. I showed them a picture of the DJI Inspire 1 I took during a test flight a few days ago and they all said, "Ahh, helicopter." 

He asked me to redo the same form, but to not list anything in the case. Ok, sure. I didn't ask any questions. He stamped the form and walked me back over to the lost baggage lady. She then said they would not be able to deliver my bag until tomorrow evening.

Waiting for the new taxi to pick us up

Panic set in, as we are departing for the Chernobyl Zone first thing in the morning and can't come back down to Kiev in the evening to pick up the drones. She said the case would actually be in Kiev by 8 pm tonight, so Elizabeth suggested I get my ass back to Boryspil to pick it up.   

As we finally strolled through the Green Zone, one of the customs agents involved in this debacle came up to me and explained that when I return tonight, don't tell the person on duty that the stuff in the case is worth more then 1,000 Euros total. He detailed in broken English and gestures that there would be lots of paperwork and I would have to pay taxes, so just tell them it's worth less then 1,000 Euros and all would be fine. "Spasibo!!"

Next, our driver, Sergei, with white woven huaraches and amber vision sunglasses, met us outside the Green Zone and guided us to his van. Without the big drone box, the van seemed like overkill, but we loaded in and sat back for the a 30 minute drive from Boryspil to the Holiday Inn in Kiev. After 10 min, Sergei pulled over to the side of the interstate and popped the hood. I looked at Elizabeth and said "that can't be good." Her response, "Uhh, yeah. Ya think?!" Sergei rattled around in the hood, grabbed a dirty rag from behind the seat, and then, came around to the open van door and showed me the broken fan belt. He called another taxi and we waited for 20 mins for van #2 to arrive in the 80 degree, fresh Ukranian interstate air.

Finally checking in to the Holiday Inn Kiev

After emailing Delta and having the hotel call the airport to confirm 24 hour baggage pick up availability, I am falling asleep again in our hotel room while Elizabeth is watching the equivalent of "America's Funniest Home Videos," but in Ukranian. We're both hoping Delta is true to its word and gets my drone case to Kiev by 8 pm tonight. 

We don't need no stinking adaptor.....Maybe?

It's 5:30 am local Amsterdam time and I am sitting in the KLM lounge while Elizabeth enjoys her second machine-made cappuccino. Our next flight does not leave until 9:25 am local time, so we've got some time to kill. It dawned on me as I was just pulling out my laptop and iPad that, although I remembered to bring 10 (count that - 10) European adapters and a transformer, they are all dispersed in different pockets of my checked baggage. As Homer Simpson would say, "Doh!"

I did remember, however, to charge everything prior to departure and I have my spare 7200 mAh battery pack to charge my phone and tablet, so there's that.

Writing my blog post

The flight was as eventful as flying first class transatlantically could be. After a few drinks, carrot soup, goat cheese stuffed chicken, and a sundae bar (trying to make the most of good food before we hit the zone), I managed to sleep a few hours. 

The bar is open

I am most interested in the level of military presence in the Boryspil airport in Kiev. This will be a strong indicator of any issues we may face in the zone. On my last expedition, I landed in Kiev just 2 days after Malaysian Airlines Flight #17 was shot down over eastern Ukraine.

There was an increased military presence, of course, in Boryspil and I was stopped and asked if I had a CARNET (which I typically don't get on personal projects), a helmet, and a vest (meaning bullet proof vest). It dawned on me that he thought I might be a freelance journalist heading to the region of fighting on the eastern border of Ukraine. I told him I did not possess those articles and was heading to the Chernobyl region. He looked at me for a second, then motioned for me to continue on through the exit doors.

Catching up on the local goings on in Amsterdam

And I'm Off.....

And so this is the first post to my "Exploring the Zone" blog. Bags are packed (257 lbs of gear) and I am about to turn in for the night. My flight leaves tomorrow at 3 pm EDT from Atlanta. Total flight time to Kiev is about 12 hours.

I will attempt to post as much as possible while in the zone; although, there are very few cell towers in the Chernobyl Nuclear Zone (only those built in association with the construction of the new sarcophagus), so this could be a challenge, but typical for basically everything associated with the zone!

I took some time today to create a short behind-the-scenes video about some of the invaluable production gear I am taking with me on my 5th expedition to the zone. Please feel free to contact me with any questions and I hope you enjoy my perspective on this amazing place.

Behind the Scenes Video describing some of the production gear I take with me

257 lbs of gear heading to Chernobyl