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Russia’s new missiles make Ukraine’s ports a no-go zone
Putin’s strikes on cargo ships using fast and highly lethal weapons leave Black Sea coast effectively blockaded
Blesson Sebastian woke up in a daze, his ears ringing from the blast.
His eyes soon focused on his crew-mate who was lying dead in his arms.
Their cargo ship, the Golden Leo, had been gutted minutes earlier by three Russian missiles that had smashed into the starboard side of the vessel in quick succession.
Mr Sebastian, his flesh raw from the burns, found the captain and they staggered through the rubble, passing the bodies of their friends as they called out for survivors.
"Everything was broken. Glass everywhere. Oil everywhere. We saw the boatswain, a friend of the captain's. We saw him taking his last breath," Mr Sebastian, 28, told The Telegraph.
The Indian sailor was one of seven survivors. Ten of his crewmembers died in the Russian attack as they sailed through the Black Sea from the Ukrainian port of Chornomorsk.
The Golden Leo is one of more than 200 civilian vessels to be targeted in the Black Sea since the 2022 invasion. The intensity of attacks around the Odesa ports is increasing, Ukrainian officials told The Telegraph.
Behind the strikes is Russia's new Banderol cruise missile, which has turned Ukraine's Black Sea coast into a deadly no-go zone for cargo ships and hammered its ports since it entered serial production at the end of last month.
Cheap, fast and carrying a 114kg high-explosive fragmentation warhead, Banderols are launched from Russian-occupied Crimea, often by Mi-28 attack helicopters.
Translated as "small parcel" in English, it can reach speeds of up to 400mph and can hit targets more than 300 miles away. They are stored at Dzhankoi district, Kirovske airfield, and Simferopol airfield in Crimea.
The missiles have formed part of Vladimir Putin's strategy to try to choke Ukraine's maritime trade by making it too perilous for cargo ships to pass through the waters around the Black Sea ports of Odesa, Chornomorsk and Pivdennyi.
In Chornomorsk and Odesa, The Telegraph witnessed deserted ports and saw drones and missiles streaking over beach-goers, as sailors described the terror of being trapped aboard vessels under fire.
As well as killing two dozen sailors and port workers, the attacks have sent Ukraine's grain exports - which typically make up 60 per cent of export revenues - plummeting by some 75 per cent year-on-year as of the first half of August. Economic analysts have suggested the offensive campaign could create losses of up to 1.5 per cent of Ukrainian GDP by the end of the year.
The campaign followed months of strikes by Ukraine on Russian shipping, largely sanctioned vessels ferrying oil and other logistics targets supplying occupied Crimea.
Kyiv has pushed for a ceasefire on attacks on ships carrying agricultural produce, to no avail. Putin warned last weekend that Ukraine had opened "Pandora's box" with its strikes on Russian economic targets and vowed to batter their "most sensitive economic sectors" in retaliation.
Dmytro Barinov, president of the Ukrainian Ports Association, said that on average one vessel per day had transited from the Odesa port between July 20 and Aug 20, compared to seven or eight previously.
"Even the size is different," he told The Telegraph. "Ship owners, if they take the risk, want to make it as small as possible. In terms of crew and captains, they're simply afraid for their lives. That's why they refuse to enter Ukrainian ports."
When The Telegraph visited, no activity could be observed from either the Odesa or Chornomorsk ports as near-constant air alerts wailed. Though they remain officially open, commercial shipping has largely stopped.
A single lonely vessel loomed far from the coastline. Struck several times and long since evacuated, it formed an unmoving blot on the horizon.
In Chornomorsk, a small coastal city with a population of under 60,000, Denys, a local port worker and the father of a young daughter, finds his livelihood in limbo. "Everything is at a standstill," he said, adding that the situation is forcing him to consider moving abroad.
Before the suspension, work was rendered almost impossible by repeated strikes, which forced workers to scramble repeatedly for shelter. Fear ran so high that crew members began sleeping on thin blankets beside the bunker at night.
"In all my time doing this, it was the first time I had seen crew members leave the vessel to take shelter rather than staying aboard," Denys explained. "Every night they slept outside."
Some of these same crew members were later struck as their vessels left the port. "So many young men who we laughed with and worked alongside have died," he said.
Natalia Kotenko, of the Odesa regional prosecutor's office, said that the Banderol missiles are behind the increase in attacks.
"Banderol missiles began to be used actively by our enemy sometime in mid-July this year," said Ms Kotenko, who added that it has a "significantly higher flight speed" than a drone and carries a high-explosive fragmentation warhead.
"This means that when it explodes, it produces a more powerful blast wave and sends a large number of fragments flying, which poses a particular danger to people."
Packed shore-front bars belie how profoundly the bombardments have changed life in Chornomorsk, a seaside resort which before the full-scale war was known for its manicured beaches and leafy parks.
The Telegraph saw mobile fire units stationed across the coastline track jet-powered Shaheds as they tore above the sea, opening fire as they came within range of the beach.
With each new launch came the high-pitched squeal of interceptor drones climbing the horizon in pursuit. The sky cracked like a whip as they found their targets, leaving rings of smoke overhead.
Meanwhile, a barrage of guided aerial bombs (KABs) and Banderol missiles pounded the tiny port city in a relentless rhythm, making its rows of waterfront residential blocks tremble.
A small mobile shelter perched above the sand was packed, yet many unbothered beach-goers remained sprawled out on their towels baking in the heat or drifting through the shimmering shallows.
"I've got so used to it, it's as if they've surgically removed all the fear from inside me. This year has been the worst for attacks," said 45-year-old Olesya Vlasova, a Chornomorsk resident, reclining idly against one of the beach's anti-landing barriers guarding against amphibious assaults.
In Odesa, residents have also suffered from intensified bombardments. For Mariia-Viktoriia Parashchak, every explosion brings back the day a Shahed drone tore into her apartment building in the city's historic Moldavanka district, killing several residents.
"Until it affects you, you don't understand it," she explained. Now, she is more cautious: "I only go to the sea in places where there is a shelter. I don't swim out, I just go in to get wet - there are fragments of Shaheds in the water."
Alongside the impact inside Ukraine, experts fear that the effective blockade could cripple global food security. Around a third of the world's wheat imports sail from Russian and Ukrainian ports situated on the Black Sea and Sea of Azov.
Mr Barinov said he believed international partners should do more to police the maritime corridor before the consequences became irreversible.
"One third of global wheat production is Ukraine and Russia. These countries supply not to the moon, not to space, but to Turkey, northern Africa, the Middle East. And even if right now they have stockpiles, further into autumn we will see shortages."
Having consulted with allies on Iran's blockade of the Strait of Hormuz earlier this year, he said the situation in Ukraine should be recognised as equally critical: "Iran was faced with a really powerful reaction after closing the Strait of Hormuz. Here, we do not feel such a reaction. No international fleet, no international troops ensured the safety of this route"
Dmytro Pletenchuk, spokesman for the Ukrainian navy, said that although Russia's actions have suspended the operation of the corridor temporarily, Kyiv's forces are stabilising the crisis.
"We are constantly working to eliminate this danger. In general, it is a normal phenomenon for the enemy to change its tactics or means of attack. There is a certain amount of time needed to adapt to a new threat," he said.
"This is not the first crisis we have faced, nor even the second, in which the corridor has come to a complete halt. And, of course, we will find a way out of this situation too."
Mr Sebastian condemned the strikes on civilian targets, describing them as a dangerous escalation in the war.
"If you want to do war, Russia, you have your warships. Ukraine, you have your ships," he ranted. "Why are you hitting merchant ships? Are we marine forces? Are we naval forces? We're just sailors carrying cargo."
While docked at Chornomorsk, waiting to venture back into the perilous waters, Mr Sebastian found solace in reciting a Bible psalm: "A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you."
"But it came to me," he said grimly. "All I wanted was to sail and live freely... I will never sail again."