Fuel crisis grips Karelia

Alina, a resident of Karelia, has owned a tourist base in the north of the region for seven years — a small hotel, a house, and guest cottages. The main clientele are residents of Moscow and St. Petersburg. Local residents often cannot afford such a vacation; people here joke: “The rich choose Karelia, the poor choose Europe.” But residents of the two capitals willingly travel north with their boats and motorboats to go fishing and admire the scenery.

More precisely, they used to travel. Everything changed after Ukraine, in a short period of time, left Russian regions without gasoline. As a result, the flow of tourists dropped sharply.

“About forty percent immediately backed out as soon as the problems with gasoline began — people are afraid to travel because they do not understand what awaits them,” Alina says. “Some immediately canceled their reservations, some say that they will keep their finger on the pulse. I have no idea what to do next.”

The tourism business was among the first to face the consequences of the fuel crisis. The beginning of 2026 had already been disastrous for the industry: over six months, 2,700 organizations closed across Russia, and the gasoline shortage only aggravated the situation.

“Colleagues speak of an overall decrease in tourist traffic of 40% compared with 2025,” says Oleg, a tourism specialist. “Tourists who traveled without reservations have practically disappeared. It is clear that when incomes decline, spending on recreation and tourism is the first thing to be crossed off. Now entrepreneurs are forced to search more actively for clients and spend more money on advertising and promotion.”

Rescuing drowning people is not a priority

The fuel crisis in Russia began in the summer of 2025, when Ukraine intensified strikes on oil refineries. But its consequences fully reached Russians a year later. By July 2026, Ukrainian drones had burned out almost one-third of the country’s oil refineries. At gas stations, queues lasting many hours, and sometimes many days, formed.

The authorities of Karelia, like those of many other regions, introduced restrictions on refueling. For example, in Petrozavodsk, even ambulances are given no more than 30 liters at a time, says a source in the healthcare sector. In addition, fuel is prohibited from being poured into canisters. This measure has had some very dangerous consequences as well.

Thus, a rescue squad in the town of Lakhdenpokhya on Lake Ladoga was unable to buy gasoline to refuel its boats at least twice. In the first case, fishermen whose boat engine had broken down needed assistance. To evacuate them, rescuers had to refuel the boat by draining gasoline from a car’s fuel tank. The story caused a great deal of public attention. Karelia’s Minister of Industry and Trade, Svetlana Astakhova, personally promised that officials would take measures; however, four days later the situation was repeated. A group of 18 tourists, including children, went missing on the lake. The rescuers were once again not sold fuel, and gasoline once again had to be drained from vehicles.

Fortunately, everyone survived, but rescuers fear that a repetition of such situations could lead to tragedy.

Likewise, fishermen and residents of villages located on Karelia’s numerous lakes and rivers cannot buy fuel for their boats.

“My friend lives on Lake Ladoga; she has two motorboats, she takes tourists to Valaam (it is an island where a famous monastery is located and where tourists and pilgrims visit every year), gives rides through the skerries,” says Vladimir, a resident of Petrozavodsk. “So, she simply cannot refuel them. If she manages to obtain a canister or two of fuel, that is good, but most of the time the vessels are laid up. And they were bought on credit, which has to be repaid every month. And the two captains, whose salaries there is nothing to pay, will now leave her. And I also know people who come from other regions with their own boats. And so, a person is standing at a gas station, with a motorboat on a trailer, but they are not allowed to refuel it. So, the person turns around and leaves.”

“No work — no money, no money — no food…”

The restrictions introduced to save gasoline are also affecting the work of industrial enterprises. Among those affected is a company from Petrozavodsk that performs welding work. “We weld everything, from barbecue grills to crane beams. We take on any job,” says Daniil, a welder. Using specific examples, he explains how Ukrainian drone strikes on oil refineries interfere with the work of residents of a small northern region.

“We have a gasoline generator. You cannot refuel it without a canister,” Daniil says. “Not all sites have electricity connected. So, a generator is needed for welding. To mix concrete — a generator. To connect an angle grinder — again, a generator. Not going to the site is not an option: no work — no money, no money — no food…”

According to Daniil, his crew has never missed a deadline because of a lack of fuel, but this is the result of colossal efforts.

“In small towns, the queues are shorter, and our director drove to a district 250 kilometers away, went around all the gas stations, and brought back about 200 liters,” says Daniil, the welder. “In general, you have to be resourceful, plan your movements, save...

Recently, we left for a work site and forgot to take something, so we had to return. The director made a scandal — because he had spent the entire weekend driving around and stocking up on fuel, while we were wasting it so thoughtlessly. And before, we would not even have paid attention to it.”

Daniil says that welding is seasonal work, and if they fail to earn well in the summer, then winter will be difficult.

“The war is to blame. And who started the war, we all know perfectly well. There is one bald old man whose head was struck by urine,” the man concludes.

“We deliver firewood at a loss to ourselves”

Entrepreneurs working with diesel fuel found themselves in a more advantageous position — Russia produces almost twice as much of it as gasoline. Nikolai, an entrepreneur working in logistics, said that his trucks refuel without problems, although the sale of diesel is also limited — one simply has to visit several gas stations or pay with different cards.

But there is another nuance: the cost.

“Diesel prices have doubled. We had included one amount in our expenses, but if we recalculate, it turns out to be a completely different amount. Fuel is the most important component,” says Sergei, a businessman engaged in logging.

Sergei’s company cuts down forests, produces firewood, and sells it to local residents. According to him, the company supplies firewood to the entire district, around one thousand homes — both private houses and apartment buildings where only stove heating still exists.

“Pensioners save up for firewood all year. They place orders as early as spring, and it has to be delivered now. In theory, considering fuel prices, we should multiply the delivery cost by two. But we simply could not cross that line and are delivering it at a loss to ourselves,” the entrepreneur says.

Gasoline is also needed in production — for chainsaws, for example — and it is now the most difficult to obtain. Sergei managed to build up supplies before the crisis, but they are already coming to an end.

“If the situation does not change, we will not be able to prepare firewood and deliver it,” the entrepreneur says. “Everything will simply come to a complete standstill. I am considering closing the organization: the administration regulates prices, while the fact that we are operating at a loss is of no interest to anyone.”

“How will I move around my own country?”

Vitaly owns a construction business, travels extensively, and travels for work. To prevent production processes from collapsing, he turns to new technologies for help.

“An entire science of logistics has emerged concerning how to obtain gasoline. There is a website where residents themselves report what is happening at the gas station they visited. There are also some assistants, bots on Telegram. Plus, my own observations. And so, I immerse myself in artificial intelligence and consult with it. Because today obtaining gasoline is a major part of the life of our people.”

However, according to Vitaly, the fuel crisis has already disrupted some of his business plans. Contracts with colleagues from other regions, which can no longer be reached, have been put at risk.

“I am now considering only the train, and this disrupts some of my serious goals and tasks. Because different restrictions are being introduced — refueling according to even or odd license plate numbers, for example. Imagine, my gasoline is already running out, I arrive at some gas station, do not have time to understand what rules apply in this region, and on that day I will not be able to refuel at all. And how will I move around my own country?”

Because of the fuel shortage, an automobile and motorcycle festival held every summer in Karelia has been put at risk. Bikers and jeep drivers gather in the village of Girvas near Petrozavodsk. This year, participants have to be persuaded. “Gasoline is a solvable issue! Do not let circumstances steal this adventure from you!” the organizers write on social media. Visitors are advised to stock up on fuel in advance or join forces with friends.

In the neighboring Arkhangelsk Region, several events of the Festival of Rural Labor were canceled: because of problems with gasoline, presenters and musicians could not arrive on the planned dates. Now, in order to go anywhere, everyone has to save up gasoline.

“My employee was supposed to go on vacation. I ask him: ‘Why are you hanging around here?’ He tells me: ‘I cannot leave. To get to my village and ride around there in a motorboat, I need 120 liters of gasoline. Now, every evening after work, I go to a gas station and put in 30 liters,’” Vitaly says.

“It is time to end it”

According to motorists, a black market for fuel has also appeared in Karelia. Information about resellers who travel through populated areas is passed along by word of mouth: “He obtained it somewhere, and he will sell it for substantially more than at an ordinary gas station. But people are understanding about it,” says Anna, a resident of Karelia. Other practices from the 1990s are also flourishing; entrepreneur Vitaly said that gasoline was recently skillfully drained from his car — right in the parking lot near his home.

“No one could even have assumed that something like this was possible at all. People are beginning to accumulate aggressive energy — both toward Ukraine and toward their own government. I see no hope that things will get better soon. People understand that an oil refinery cannot be repaired in one or two weeks. And even if the plants are restored, they will be attacked again, and they will shut down again,” Vitaly concludes.

People have “appointed” local officials, who allegedly cannot organize the sale of fuel, as the main culprits of what happened, one of the interlocutors told Barents Observer. But fatigue from what is happening is accumulating, and it can no longer be blamed on incidental executors — governors and mayors.

“People see that nothing is happening except new recruitment drives for the war. And where those recruited in the previous drives disappear to — everyone understands perfectly well. There are countless obituaries...,” says a former deputy of one of the small towns in northern Russia. “If the ‘comrade’ at the top were suddenly to agree to negotiations and a ceasefire on any terms, 90 percent would be happy about it. Few people blame the specific person at the top; propaganda knows its job. Therefore, the general mood is: ‘Putin did everything right in 2022... but it is time to end it.’”

“Where is Karelia, and where is the front?”

Even pro-war volunteers, collecting help to Russian soldiers, complain about the fuel crisis, as it has become more difficult for them to deliver humanitarian cargo to the front. “Where is Karelia, and where is the front? Getting there, at least... We understand that, most likely, we will have to stand [in queues] as well,” suggests a representative of the “Volunteer Battalion of Karelia” named Anna. When asked whether volunteers are allowed to skip the queue, Anna laments: “Of course not, everyone is afraid that the gasoline will run out before it is their turn.”

And the pro-Russian blogger from Norway, Rudi Ripnes, was forced to abandon in Murmansk a vintage car in which he had planned to travel to Moscow. “I cannot risk getting stuck there without fuel,” the sensible Norwegian explained. Six months earlier, in January, he had recorded a video saying that there were no problems with gasoline in Russia; now his rhetoric has changed, and on his Instagram, Rudi is convincing his audience that the fuel crisis does exist after all, but that it does not particularly affect Russians.