The Russian Invasion Of 1963

Arrest and Background

In the spring of 1963, the people of Waterford found themselves witness to an extraordinary maritime drama, one that would briefly place Waterford and the usually quiet fishing harbour of Dunmore East into the glare of international attention. It was here, off Hook Head, that the Russian trawler Paltus, a 300-ton vessel, was arrested by the Irish Naval Service for infringing the three-mile fishery limit — an act that made history.

This was not just another case of illegal fishing. It was the first time a Soviet trawler had ever been arrested for breaching Irish territorial waters. Indeed, it was believed to be the first such arrest of a Soviet fishing vessel anywhere in the world. Against the backdrop of the Cold War, the incident carried significance far beyond the barrels of herring and the heavy nets that would soon be piled high on Waterford’s North Wharf.

The Paltus, under the command of her 38-year-old skipper Albert Kojehmjkin, was taken into custody by the Irish fishery protection vessel Maeve, commanded by Lieut.-Commander Henry L. Henry. On that Monday evening, the corvette intercepted the Russian ship just off Hook Head. Fixes taken at 5.30 p.m. placed the Paltus 600 yards inside the prohibited limit, with her gear in the water and her crew engaged in fishing.

The Maeve signalled at once, ordering the Russian to haul her gear and proceed to Dunmore East. However, this was ignored and it took a shot across her bow to bring the Paltus to a halt.

By Tuesday, she lay moored at Waterford’s North Wharf, under round-the-clock watch from the Gardaí. Crowds of curious onlookers gathered along the quay, knowing instinctively that something out of the ordinary was taking place.

What followed was a case that consumed almost 20 hours of court time in Waterford District Court, including two preliminary hearings on the Wednesday and Friday, before the climactic eleven-hour session on Monday. In the dock, alongside the Russian skipper, stood the Cold War itself. The court was packed, the atmosphere tense. The proceedings were reported not just by the Irish press but by the British media, by Telefís Éireann, Radio Éireann, and even the BBC.

Adding to the spectacle was the presence of Yuri Filimonov, First Consul of the Soviet Embassy in London, and Vladimir Orlov of the Soviet Trade Delegation. Their attendance gave the case an unmistakable diplomatic weight. Here was not simply a trawler captain fighting a fisheries charge; here was the Soviet Union, by proxy, contesting the reach of Irish law over its coastal waters.

When Justice J. R. Coghlan finally delivered his verdict late on that Monday night, the tension in the courtroom was palpable. Ireland had drawn its line. The case, with all its technicalities of charts, fixes, winds, and nets, had become something more: a demonstration that the State was prepared to defend its waters, even against the great power of the East.

The Court Hearings

By Saturday morning, the courtroom in Waterford had become the stage for one of the most remarkable trials the city had ever seen. The prosecution was led by Dr. D. R. Counahan, State Solicitor for Waterford, acting on behalf of the Minister for Lands (Fisheries Section). Defending the Russian skipper, Albert Kojehmjkin, was Mr. Ian Farrell, solicitor of Waterford. The presiding judge, Justice J. R. Coghlan, would have the task of steering through hours of conflicting testimony, maritime law, and even the Cold War, looming in the background.

From the outset, Dr. Counahan made it clear that amendments to the Fisheries (Consolidation) Act strengthened the State’s hand. To convict, the prosecution had to prove three things: that the Paltus was not Irish-registered; that Kojehmjkin was indeed her captain; and that the vessel had unlawfully entered and fished within the exclusive limits of the State.

The Evidence of the Maeve

Lieut. Michael Murphy, officer-of-the-watch on the Maeve, gave a detailed account. At 5.15 p.m. on that fateful Monday, while steaming from Cobh to Dunmore, he sighted the lights of a fleet of trawlers ahead. Fixes taken showed some vessels were within the three-mile limit. At 5.30 p.m., he identified the Russian trawler with her gear in the water — actively fishing — and placed her 600 yards inside the prohibited waters.

The Maeve signalled at once: haul your gear, proceed to Dunmore East. Yet an hour later, at 6.15 p.m., fish were seen sliding from the deck of the Paltus into the sea. The trawler pressed eastwards at full speed. At 6.55 p.m., with signals ignored, the corvette fired a tracer shot across her bows. Only then did she stop, and by 7.25 p.m. her mate and bosun were boarding the corvette to be informed of their arrest.

Lieut.-Commander Henry L. Henry, the commanding officer of the Maeve, corroborated this version. He was adamant: the Paltus had been fishing 600 yards inside the line, had jettisoned fish at 6.05 p.m., and had attempted to flee. Visibility was excellent despite the easterly wind blowing at 30 m.p.h. “He was trying to get away,” Henry told the court firmly.

Lieutenants John Jordan and Fergus Cahill supported this evidence. Jordan described watching the Russian crew lift their nets ten feet from the water, allowing the catch to fall deliberately back into the sea. Cahill went further, saying he believed the fish had been dropped on purpose to conceal the evidence of fishing.

The Defence Response

When it came to the defence, Mr. Farrell challenged these accounts with persistence. He suggested that miscommunication, language barriers, and the rough sea all contributed to what might have been a misunderstanding rather than an offence. Kojehmjkin and his crew, he argued, were seasoned seamen, reliant on their instruments, and under the impression that they had been instructed to move eastward, not to Dunmore.

When the captain himself took the stand, he presented as calm, confident, and insistent on his professionalism. He had worked in trawlers since 1956, had earned his captain’s licence in 1960, and had commanded the Paltus since then. He stressed his navigational skills, his use of modern equipment — radar and gyro compass checked daily — and his certainty that he had remained outside the limit.

He admitted to drifting due to strong seas, but denied fishing illegally. The fish seen falling into the sea, he claimed, had slipped as nets were hauled, not deliberately discarded. “It was quite unnecessary to do that to get rid of the fish,” he told the court.

Language, Charts and Confusion

At the heart of the defence lay questions of communication. The Paltus’s mate testified that English was poorly understood aboard, and that when voices shouted through the storm, the only word he could make out was “east.” To them, it seemed a warning to move away from danger, not an order to submit to arrest.

The charts, too, were questioned. The Russians carried only a small-scale map, inadequate for close inshore fishing, and lacking any clear limit lines. To the defence, this was an error of equipment rather than intent.

Witnesses from the crew, including First Mate Alexander Demschakov and seaman Michael Maslovsky, echoed their captain’s words: they had not sought to evade the Irish corvette, only to follow its misunderstood signals. Demschakov, when asked directly whether Commander Henry and his officers were wrong in their testimony, replied firmly: “What they said is not my concern. I affirm that what I said is true.” Evidence for the defence was also given by Patrick Barron, Passage East.

Courtroom Atmosphere

The court was crowded throughout, with press reporters from Ireland and Britain jostling for space. Telefís Éireann and the BBC captured the tense atmosphere on camera. Each new witness added to the drama: Irish naval officers unwavering in their testimony; Russian seamen insistent on their innocence.

By Monday night, after nearly twenty hours of hearings, the stage was set for Justice Coghlan’s summing up. All present knew that his verdict would carry weight far beyond the oak benches of Waterford District Court.

Defence, Summing Up, and Verdict

By Monday evening, the evidence had been heard, the witnesses cross-examined, and the interpreters thanked for their patience. The fate of Albert Kojehmjkin, skipper of the Paltus, now rested in the hands of Justice J. R. Coghlan.

When the court resumed at 11 p.m., after a brief adjournment, the atmosphere was taut. The defendant sat beside Yuri Filimonov, and Vladimir Orlov. Reporters readied their notebooks. The hush that descended was broken only by the scraping of chairs as the Justice returned to the bench.

Justice Coghlan’s Summing Up

The Justice began by acknowledging the skill of both advocates. Mr. Farrell, for the defence, had argued his case both on law and fact, particularly pressing an interpretation of the word “fishing.” This interpretation, Coghlan declared, was “wholly artificial,” and could not be accepted.

The core of the matter, he said, had been made plain through the “cross-talk” between himself, prosecution, and defence: the question was simple. Had the Paltus entered and fished within Irish territorial waters?

He accepted, without hesitation, the testimony of the corvette officers, and rejected the contradictory evidence of the defendant and his crew. The Russian skipper, he conceded, was an honest witness — “much more concerned with fishing than with taking his position.” But therein lay the problem: in waters so close to the limit line, a master unfamiliar with the coast should have exercised extreme care, “taking fixes continuously.” Instead, he had relied on an inadequate map and had risked infringement.

The Decision

Coghlan ruled that the first two charges — unlawfully entering within the exclusive fishery limits of the State, and, having entered, fishing therein — were proved beyond doubt. On the advice of Dr. Counahan, the first and third charges were withdrawn, and the conviction was entered on the second.

The sentence was clear: a fine of £30 and the confiscation of fish and gear.

It was a modest penalty by some measures, but the symbolism was enormous. The skipper of a Soviet trawler had been convicted in an Irish court, his catch and his equipment forfeited. For the first time, Ireland had successfully defended her fisheries against a power from the East.

Thanks and Formalities

Before adjourning, Justice Coghlan expressed thanks to both solicitors for their able handling of the case, and to Miss Margaret McMackin, Lecturer in Russian at Trinity College, who had served as interpreter throughout the long hearings. Both Dr. Counahan and Mr. Farrell joined in praising her contribution.

As the court emptied shortly before midnight, the sense lingered that history had been made. Not merely in the conviction of a single fisherman, but in the assertion of Ireland’s sovereignty. 

The Aftermath

The drama of the courtroom was only the beginning. With the conviction secured late on Monday night, attention shifted to Waterford’s North Wharf the following day. There, in full view of crowds of curious locals, the sentence of confiscation was carried out.

Stripping the Paltus

From 2.30 p.m. on Tuesday until late that night, dockers and fishermen, engaged by Bord Iascaigh Mhara, set about stripping the Russian trawler of her gear and fish. Mr. Denis Drake, Area Manager for Bord Iascaigh Mhara, supervised the operation with military precision.

Kojehmjkin himself, though subdued, appeared resigned. He made no attempt to retrieve the confiscated equipment, estimated to be worth £10,000. His solicitor, Ian Farrell, told reporters that the captain was “most anxious to have it taken off the boat so that they could sail immediately.”

As coils of rope, heavy drift nets, wire hawsers, buoys, and barrels of fish were lifted ashore, the skipper smoked quietly and chatted with Consul Yuri Filimonov and Trade Delegate Vladimir Orlov. They declined to speak with the press. The sight of the Soviet officers leaning on the trawler’s bridge rail, watching as Irish labourers removed their gear, was one that spoke volumes.

The Confiscated Haul

The seizure was extensive. Over seventy drift nets, trawls, three miles of rope, wire hawsers, and buoys were removed, along with a catch consisting of three tons of prime fish and two tons of herring, packed into 300 barrels. The gear was swiftly transported to Dublin for later auction.

Auction on the Wharf

On Thursday, the confiscated fish was auctioned at the North Wharf. Crowds once again gathered to watch, some curious, some eager to bid. The five-ton haul realised £352 8s. The buyer was Mr. Roger Shipsey of Dunmore East, who secured the first lot of 241 barrels of herring and mixed fish at 28 shillings a barrel, bidding against John Baldwin of Passage East.

Shipsey also purchased 95 barrels of baby hake for £14, though he remarked that the fish — scarcely larger than sardines — were of little use in Irish markets. “I was more interested in the barrels than the fish,” he admitted, intending to dump the catch.

Meanwhile, the trawler’s confiscated gear remained in three C.I.E. wagons, awaiting instructions as to its final destination.

Watching Eyes

By Wednesday morning at 9.15, the stripped Paltus slipped her moorings at Waterford and sailed out, bound to re-join her mother ship, which lay with a cluster of other Soviet vessels off the south-east coast.

Even as the Paltus slipped out of Waterford, another Russian factory ship joined the fleet fishing just outside the three-mile limit off west Waterford. The first mother ship had already taken on 100 tons of fresh water in Cork, a reminder that the Soviet presence along Ireland’s coast was both organised and persistent.

For the people of Waterford and Dunmore East, the sight of the Russians in their waters was no longer an abstract story from far-off seas; it was a daily reality, and one that had just led to the most dramatic court case in living memory.

Closing Reflections

The arrest of the Paltus and the trial of her skipper, Albert Kojehmjkin, wasn't just another fisheries case. To those who lined Waterford’s North Wharf, it was an extraordinary spectacle: Russian sailors standing by their vessel under the watch of the Gardaí, Soviet officials smoking on the bridge as Irish dockers stripped the trawler of her gear, and local fish buyers bidding on barrels of confiscated fish. It was a story that seemed to carry with it all the intrigue of the Cold War, played out not in Berlin or Moscow, but in a quiet Irish port.

For Ireland, it was also a statement of intent. The protection of fisheries had long been a national concern, and with the establishment of the Naval Service after independence, the State now had the means to enforce its maritime laws. The conviction of the Soviet skipper, modest though the fine might seem, was symbolic. Ireland, small though it was, could stand firm against encroachment on its waters.

Locally, the events of 1963 became part of the folklore of Dunmore East and Waterford. Men who had grown up hauling nets or working the quayside had found themselves rubbing shoulders with Russian sailors and hearing interpreters translate the arguments of defence and prosecution in a crowded courtroom. The BBC and Telefís Éireann cameras added an almost surreal dimension — the world had watched this case play out.

The herring that the Russians had come to catch had long been the lifeblood of Dunmore East’s own fleet. Generations of families had depended on the same shoals. To see foreign vessels, vast and efficient, pressing close to the Irish coast was unsettling for many. The arrest of the Paltus was, in a way, a reassurance — that the old traditions and livelihoods of Irish fishing communities still mattered in the eyes of the law.

The Cold War has long since ended, but the echoes of that week in 1963 still resonate. They remind us that Ireland, though neutral, was never entirely removed from global tensions. And they remind us, too, of the determination of a coastal people to protect their own.

On the surface, it was a simple case: a trawler inside the line, a fine, a confiscation. Yet in the telling, it became something much larger — a story of east meeting west, and of a small nation quietly but firmly holding its ground.

A short British Pathé video on youtube covers some of the events: https://youtu.be/9DtEAMiFEDc