Five Nuclear “Titanics” in One Bay
Floating Nuclear Plants and Climate Crisis: a New Energy Gamble in the Russian Arctic
Russia plans to supply power to the infrastructure of the Baimsky Mining and Processing Plant using several floating nuclear power plants. Even land-based nuclear facilities carry risks and vulnerabilities that are exacerbated by the climate crisis. Floating plants introduce additional points of failure. How sensible is it to deploy new floating nuclear stations in a rapidly changing Arctic climate? Arctida and Novaya Gazeta set out to find out.
This is the second article in a series on the environmental and climate impacts of major infrastructure projects in the Russian Arctic. The previous piece examined how shipping along the Northern Sea Route in the era of climate change could turn into an ecological disaster. To avoid missing future installments, follow Arctida and Novaya Gazeta on social media.
Imagine having five floating nuclear power plants stationed near your city. That is exactly the situation residents of Pevek will soon face. The world’s only operating floating nuclear power plant is already docked in the port, and four more are set to be brought to Chaun Bay. Fewer than 5,000 people live in the city—the plants are being deployed to build and power a massive mining complex.
The Baimskoye deposit is one of the world’s largest undeveloped mineral reserves, containing copper ore as well as gold and silver. Its uniqueness lies in its location: a sparsely populated, hard-to-reach area of Chukotka. To exploit these resources, Russia is constructing the Baimsky Mining and Processing Plant—a massive infrastructure project that includes not only the plant itself but an entire network of supporting facilities. To power it, Rosatom is building four floating nuclear power plants, which it plans to commission by 2029 at a new port on Cape Naglëynyn.
Even land-based nuclear power plants carry risks that are intensified by the climate crisis. Operating floating plants introduces additional vulnerabilities.
Data from the past year show unprecedented rates of climate change in the Arctic.
In 2025, temperatures reached the highest rates in the past 125 years. Warming triggers a cascade of negative effects: seawater becomes warmer and saltier, storms intensify, and the likelihood of destructive storms and abnormal precipitation increases, leading to floods and landslides—especially dangerous in regions underlain by permafrost.
Despite this, Russia is not abandoning floating nuclear power plants. On the contrary, it is concentrating them along the Chukotka coast. The world’s largest floating nuclear plant, the Akademik Lomonosov, is already docked in Pevek, and several more floating nuclear stations will soon be installed nearby.
What could come of deploying high-risk energy infrastructure in the high-risk region—and are there alternatives?
Akademik Lomonosov: The Floating Nuclear Plant
Russia is the only country in the world that builds floating nuclear power plants. The first such project was the Akademik Lomonosov, which served as the prototype for the power units designed for the Baimsky plant. These modernized floating power units are an updated version of the first floating nuclear plant.
The station resembles a massive barge, 144 meters long, with no self-propulsion. It houses two KLT-40S reactor units and residential quarters for staff. To reach Pevek—the northernmost city in Russia—the Akademik Lomonosov was towed along the Northern Sea Route together with an entire complex of onshore facilities. Once it arrived, the whole system was assembled on site and connected to the grid.
The plant was built using tech developed for nuclear-powered icebreakers and was intended to supply heat and electricity to remote industrial enterprises, ports, and offshore oil extraction facilities in the Arctic and the Far East. Today it is stationed in Pevek and considered the northernmost nuclear power plant in the world.
Rosatom launched the floating nuclear plant project in 2007, but it took 13 years before the station was commissioned. It generates 70 MW of electricity and 50 Gcal/hour of heat—enough to power a city of up to 100,000 people. In reality, it supplies Pevek, which had fewer than 5,000 residents as of 2024, with surplus electricity fed into the regional grid.
According to Rosstat, fewer than 50,000 people live in all of the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug, so the nuclear plants were built in part to supply energy to industrial users—primarily mining companies. Initially, Akademik Lomonosov was expected to power the Baimsky project. However, project documentation now specifies that the main energy source will be four floating nuclear plants currently under construction in China.
Why does such a sparsely populated region need so much energy? To develop the Baimskaya ore zone.
“Enormous amounts of power are needed—around 300 megawatts. All the electricity generated by the Bilibino Nuclear Power Plant and the Akademik Lomonosov will go to gold and copper deposits in Chukotka. This is a new industrial Chukotka—we are redesigning the entire energy system,”
Source:TV channel Saint Petersburg
Ripples on the Neva River
The Akademik Lomonosov was built in Saint Petersburg at the Baltic Shipyard and first launched in 2010. Construction, modernization, and generator installation took place near the city’s historic center. Even before the reactors were fully loaded with nuclear fuel, generator tests were conducted—just two kilometers from the Hermitage Museum, despite a ban on nuclear-hazardous work in the city dating back to the 1990s.
The novelty of the project, its proximity to a million city, and reports of incidents triggered public concern, protests, and criticism from experts and environmentalists.
Because the Akademik Lomonosov was considered a nuclear facility even while docked at the shipyard, it should have undergone an environmental impact assessment and public hearings before construction began. It should also have been included in the city’s energy and emergency evacuation plans. According to experts, none of this was done—one reason why news of fuel loading sparked unrest.
During construction, there were numerous irregularities. Anti-nuclear expert Rashid Alimov pointed out that the project lacked an operating license, despite the fact that nuclear plants require multiple licenses, including one for construction in Saint Petersburg.
Overall objections coming from experts can be summarized in three words: expensive, unsafe, and environmentally harmful.
In 2020, Rosenergoatom proposed raising the cost of electricity generation at floating nuclear plants to 7 million rubles per megawatt. Power from the Bilibino nuclear plant costs nearly twice as much—around 13 million rubles per megawatt. Experts noted that as of 2021, this was up to five times more expensive than renewable energy at wholesale market prices.
Of course, the cost of energy also depends on where electricity is distributed—to households or to businesses. Still, the price of the electricity being generated raises an obvious question: couldn’t a cheaper energy source have been used, or even a full shift toward renewable energy?
The increase in energy costs in the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug was driven by the commissioning of the floating nuclear power plant at the end of 2019, since funds had to be found to support the operation of the new facility. As a result, the surcharge added to energy prices in 2020 amounted to 8.6 billion rubles—3.6 billion more than before the plant was launched. This difference reflects the cost of maintaining the Akademik Lomonosov.
Because of the high cost of electricity, the government introduced a price-regulation mechanism within the energy system of the Far Eastern Federal District, which includes power facilities in Chukotka. The reduction in tariffs for local residents, however, comes at the expense of higher energy costs for consumers in other regions of European Russia, the Urals, and Siberia. In 2020 alone, they paid more than 37 billion rubles to offset these subsidies.
“Rosatom doesn’t count money—it has almost unlimited access to the federal budget and special treatment from the president. Risks don’t scare them either, especially in such a remote location where independent experts are unlikely to gain access and information about accidents can be easily concealed under state censorship of the media. Russia’s nuclear industry operates under a special mandate from President Putin: to expand dependence on Russian technologies and supplies, with that dependence then translating into greater political influence. To achieve this, the Russian state budget allocates many billions of rubles to finance the construction of nuclear power plants in other countries. The export of floating nuclear power plants opens up new opportunities: in poorer countries that lack suitable grid infrastructure and where building large nuclear plants makes little sense, a small-scale facility may be a viable option—and if the country has a coastline, a floating one as well. In such cases, the risks increase, because safety culture in poorer countries is incomparably lower,” comments Vladimir Slivyak*, co-chair of the Ecodefense! group.
Given the multibillion-ruble cost of building a floating plant and the high cost of power generation, experts and environmental activists argue that Rosatom’s real objective was to build and launch a showcase project to present to potential technology buyers. This was intended to expand exports and strengthen the influence of Russia’s nuclear industry. And while no such construction is currently underway, the plan can be considered successful to some extent: investors from China and Latin America countries have shown interest in the technology.
Construction in China
To power the enormous Baimsky plant, Rosatom developed a project for modernized floating power units (FPUs)—an evolution of the Akademik Lomonosov design. Four new floating nuclear plants will be stationed off the East Siberian Sea coast near the existing unit. The project’s hub will be Cape Naglëynyn in Chaun Bay, where Pevek’s port is being expanded to moor the new reactors.
The design of the FPU was based on the operational experience of Akademik Lomonosov, though the new units replaced KLT-40S reactors with more powerful RITM-200 reactors, boosting capacity to 106 MW per unit.
The cost of building four units exceeds 140 billion rubles (2020 prices, excluding VAT), with total energy infrastructure investments topping 190 billion rubles.
Originally, Rosatom planned to commission the first units by January 2027 and build them at the Baltic Shipyard in Saint Petersburg. However, capacity constraints forced the corporation to move hull construction abroad. In 2021, Rosatom signed a contract with China’s Wison (Nantong) Heavy Industry. By 2023, at least three of the four hulls were under construction in China.
As the shipbuilding challenges emerged, the schedule for the implementation of the mining and processing complex was also revised. According to Rosatom CEO Alexey Likhachev, delivery of the first units is now expected in 2028–2029, with all four (three operational and one backup) fully installed by 2031.
Nuclear Fuel: There and Back Again
Spent nuclear fuel will be removed and fresh fuel delivered via the Northern Sea Route—the same method was used for the Akademik Lomonosov recently.
“Nuclear waste is stored directly on the floating plant. In the event of an accident—say, from a tsunami—both the station and waste containers could be damaged,” Slivyak warns. “Extreme natural conditions could cause a radiation release and contaminate the marine ecosystem”
Nuclear fuel was transported to Pevek for the first time in 2023—from Elektrostal near Moscow, where Rosatom’s subsidiary fuel-manufacturing enterprise for nuclear power plants, JSC Machine-Building Plant, is located. The second shipment of nuclear fuel traveled via the Northern Sea Route in 2024.
Navigation along the Northern Sea Route is a dangerous undertaking. Unstable ice conditions, the risk of encountering storms or becoming trapped in ice, and increasingly severe extreme weather generate a vast array of hazards. Transporting radioactive fuel along the Northern Sea Route turns the voyage into a critically dangerous mission, as any failure along the route could result in large-scale radioactive contamination. According to estimates by Arctida, in 2024 alone, 15 vessels encountered accidents in the Arctic.
Accidents Are Always Possible—Climate Change Makes Them More Likely
Any radioactive release threatens human life and fragile ecosystems, especially in the Arctic, which is experiencing severe impacts from the negative impacts of the climate crisis described above.
“The coastal marine environment is characterized by highly specialized and vulnerable biodiversity. Any accident involving a release of radiation, combined with extremely limited capacity to mitigate the consequences, would cause severe damage to all living systems”
The Arctic is warming nearly four times faster than the rest of the planet, triggering a cascade of negative effects that create additional vulnerabilities for infrastructure. As a result of permafrost thaw, up to 45% of infrastructure facilities in the Arctic region have already been affected.
And judging by current trends, the degradation of the upper permafrost layer will only accelerate, potentially leading to catastrophic consequences and an increase in industrial accidents. Rising precipitation levels are also increasing the risk of landslides, especially in coastal areas—posing an additional threat to port infrastructure.
Another consequence of the climate crisis—relevant not only to the Arctic but to all coastal regions with seasonal ice cover (such as the Baltic Sea and, in particular, the Gulf of Finland)—is the reduction in ice volume. The absence of a stable ice cover in coastal waters has led to more frequent and more intense winter storms in Chaun Bay. These storms erode the shoreline and can trigger coastal landslides, creating further risks for coastal infrastructure.
Storms threaten more than just the destruction of shoreline infrastructure. Because floating nuclear power plants draw and desalinate seawater directly from the bay to cool their reactors, water quality becomes a critical concern. Storms stir up bottom sediments and silt, which can clog water intake systems. Without cooling, a reactor would rapidly overheat, leading to a critical emergency situation.
In addition, rising temperatures are making ice conditions more unpredictable, increasing the likelihood of collisions between the station and large ice masses. This would presumably require constant monitoring and the continuous deployment of icebreakers to prevent such incidents.
In the case of high-risk nuclear facilities located along the coast—floating nuclear power plants fall squarely into this category—the combined effects of climate change can lead to an increase in emergency situations. This significantly raises the risk of accidents that could have catastrophic consequences. And given that within five years the shoreline near Pevek is expected to host not one but a total of five nuclear power units, the potential impact of any accident would be far more severe.
“There is no such thing as a completely safe nuclear power plant. Radiation-releasing accidents have occurred not only at large nuclear plants, but also on nuclear submarines and icebreakers. Operating in the Arctic introduces additional risks—for example, severe storms or tsunamis could seriously damage such a facility. Considering that nuclear waste is also stored near the reactors for long periods, the risk is effectively doubled. In the event of an accident, it would be extremely difficult—if not impossible—to organize cleanup operations for radioactive contamination. The fragile Arctic environment would suffer far more than in a comparable accident in, say, the European part of Russia. Any accident at such a plant always carries the risk of radioactive contamination of the marine ecosystem,” Slivyak* commented.
Three mistakes in the abbreviation “NPP”
Despite the stability of energy generation, nuclear power plants pose serious risks in the event of accidents—especially in the context of an unpredictable climate crisis in the region.
As an alternative, a mix of renewable energy sources could be considered.
Renewables immediately eliminate the risk of radioactive accidents and are generally more adaptable to the effects of climate change.
The Chukotka coastline is one of the windiest regions in Russia. Average annual wind speeds here can reach 9–12 m/s—world record for coastal areas. Cape Nagleynyn and the coast of Chaun Bay are well suited for the development of large wind farms.
To meet the energy demands of the Baimsky mining and processing plant using renewables alone, a large wind farm with more than a hundred turbines would be required. Even so, construction costs would not exceed those of the nuclear power plants, which have already absorbed roughly 140 billion rubles in investment. Additional renewable capacity could be provided by solar installations and tidal turbines.
Same price—without the risk of a nuclear catastrophe.
“Nuclear power is the most expensive, dangerous, and polluting option of all when the full fuel cycle is taken into account. Moreover, in recent years, due to growing risks—including climate-related and military ones—the cost of building nuclear power plants has continued to rise, while the cost of renewable energy sources has steadily declined. But the management of the state corporation Rosatom knows how to secure government funding.
Floating nuclear power plants and small modular reactors are trending in the industry, but the core technologies and unresolved problems remain the same ones that have plagued the sector for decades—shifting the burden of nuclear waste onto future generations.
In the wake of the 40th anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster, it is worth remembering how the state failed to cope with that catastrophe. Just last year, the government failed to prevent an oil disaster in the southern sea. What, then, should we expect from a potential nuclear accident in the Arctic?”— explained Vitaly Servetnik of the Eco-Crisis Group.
* The Russian Ministry of Justice considers environmentalist Vladimir Slivyak a “foreign agent”
Cover photo: Government of Russia
