What is it like 14 years living alone on the island away from the mainland (10 photos) Bashny.Net

16 years ago, Vadim decided to settle on a small uninhabited island where in Soviet times housed named after. Since then, and lives by shooting the seagulls, catching fish and reading fiction novels.


The author writes: the Island referred to, was formed in the early twentieth century. The Yeysk is located on a long sand spit that separates the shallow from the deep navigable estuary of the Gulf of Taganrog. This braid washed away by a powerful storm, and then came to Bird island and live on it huge by local standards, the number of gulls, cormorants, swallows, pelicans and other birds that feed on fish. Around the island race sailors, learning maneuvers, here come the kiters, windsurfers and boats carry tourists. However, in the interior of the island is not serviced by anybody — there is nothing to do.



To go for a good airboat twenty minutes. And yet the distance in three and a half kilometers of the Strait, which is a permanent strong wind moving over (depending on the wind direction there is water that enters the estuary, it goes back), it seems much more complicated than a trip to a cottage in the suburbs.

The house of a hermit — so its all there and is called away. The island is almost flat, full of sand and shell that was being produced on an industrial scale even in tsarist times — so from the shore he merges with the water level. But the buildings on it is almost there, so the hut to find is not difficult. Move immediately to it.

The first thing seen on the island — a giant wooden cross, on which the circling sea birds. It was placed after great tragedy. A few years ago counselors children camp got to swim with the children on the edge of the island — local for here it forms eddies and dragging down cold streams of water, killing all.

Reading sounder with four feet almost instantly jump to 30 cm in the lagoon near the house of the old man's ankle-deep water. Home of the fisherman-solitary like an unfinished guard booth: four shabby concrete block, roof of corrugated asbestos-cement Board, covered with knitted rope stuff. Three-meter porch stands on giant tires from "KAMAZ". Immediately behind the house was a warehouse of wood and twigs associated in his arms and dried local spines, standing next to put on the summer oven, tub of rain water. Under the house you can see the old axe, coils of rope, a pile of bottles and other junk.

First we go to meet two of the whelps from under the mosquito net covering the only entrance to the house appears their owner — dry wrinkled man in his underpants with a face mutilated by the wind and streams of ultraviolet radiation. "Came to visit?" We show the old man a bottle of local wine — we were immediately told that the easiest way to talk to him, having such an argument — and he invites us to the table.



I'm here since 1999. Was previously named after, right here and lived station stood. Then everybody left and I stayed. I'm still broken — see leg. The group [disability] although working, but will still work if no one took. People in the nineties and so did not work, but with disability.

At a time when it was named after, they are three turns a night on duty. Each week. That is, fishermen hired by seasons, and there were only one permanent Brigadier, who spent the night there. Then in the nineties it all fell apart: just sold everything.

So I was on duty requested by the queue — they say you have nothing to do, come with me on shift. Only three of them. And at some point it turned out that I already replace all three. It turns out that he lived here for several months. I loved it here. Now all my other fishermen who died, and who don't know anything about them. I myself already the 62nd year went. But there are few who began to work — all just fished here and lived happily.

My first on the other side of the island was shed, left over from the fish farm. But she was tempted by the storm last year. Then moved to this — there were only walls. I would, of course, some more were added for comfort, but no material. One shell and sand.



When everything fell apart, my family was gone. And before that, five families. Even here, then lived for four years, one girl with me. Just in the previous house and lived with her. So here it is from a heart attack died — had a fight with my daughter, she went to her put up and there it took. In General, she just saw a lot.

I still get a pension. Buddy takes on a power of attorney, buys her food and brings it to me. There is, of course, say something- — something like five thousand. Such money it is better not to see, so I prefer products to. And, of course, fishing. Mesh then put the rod sometimes catch. Here the network though to put and not now under the law, but I know my grid will not shoot anybody.

Actually the bird is local, too, can have. It is, of course, is considered to be almost inedible — it's the whole fish stinks. But I often eat. To me fellow hunters in the fall come nastraivaet with them gulls, cormorants, and then salted them in a bag for the winter. Here Vic I was from MOE, he goes on the hunt, so it's a pleasure to shoot.

I had the boat on the oars — it happened myself and roamed into the city sometimes. But this is quite rare. Now the boat sank, so I'm without transportation. I don't need him. My guys name is, let's go, but I somehow calmer. Only very occasionally will sit down with a Bit of a ride on the motor somewhere. But if you need me anyone can throw up here and walking with the tourists go here, and MOE, and athletes of all sorts.







Recently here on the island built two buildings — don't know what's in them. But it was a big scandal. There tapanuli, but has not agreed anything with the administration. While on the island to build on the idea of nothing — whether a protected area or something else. I live in what has been to me.

To me even vacationers drive to see the old man. Come to visit sometimes, talking. As you came here, and all the rest come. But most of all, of course, the friends I stop just so you guys come to see, I'm still alive or not. Especially now yachts and boats divorced in the city — wander around the island, you can see my house from afar.

In the city I hate to drive — I don't know what to do there. I recently guys drove, so I got confused. Don't understand where I was going, and what's going on. So even if I who called in the city to live, I wouldn't. Here on the island all my own, and life here is the same — nothing changes, all is calm always. Sit the books I read — my friends all sorts of novels bring, see, a whole stack of lies. Most of all I love science fiction and historical books, of course. But I have magazines and some old is.

There is always work enough — though the wood go collect, though mastery is something for the future. Washed away at the wall you need to cover. In the Windows to plug the holes — then the constant wind, and it from all sides blows.



And in winter the sea is unclear what — not ice, not water. This is dangerous to drive, so I throw food from the city's lifeguards. But it rarely happens. And when all peremarket, to me the guys on foot over the ice we go. Before I used to be in the city on ice went.

Cold here is about four months, no more. Stoked furnaces, however, to change it I will have to do this with moves that warmed up the room better, and then all the heat goes into the pipe. And the food is cooked on a gas furnace. Bring gas cylinders and cooking, it's not worth more than a thousand and a quarter missing. In the summer most of the fire just burn, oven and stand on the street.

Sometimes the generator include. I have it very old. The guys will bring a gasoline canister, to me its a whole season may be enough. I hardly ever use it, but in the winter less work from home sometimes and do not want to go, so what happens from the generator and radio include. Tune in to the TV and just listen to the news or something. "REN-TV" the case most often. I have телевbзор here. Here a see a little, but I don't turn it on. So I brought that I didn't die, but I do not need almost.



On the island the most valuable part is the food. Canned, fresh something-and I often collect rainwater. Guys, of course, bring that stock was, but that's enough for me.

I was born in Omsk where my father sat, 53ем year was amnestied, and then I was born. Before you go to school, we all moved to Yeysk, where I grew up. Here at mum's mother — the wife of a General. Grandfather-General during the war died, so I didn't know him. When our farm was closed, and all of mine have died long ago. There was only a brother with his family. I first thought to live at my parents ' house, freed all there for my brother and his wife, and slept in the barn. But then it became clear — not a place for me there.



published

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Source: fishki.net/1603637-kakovo-jeto---14-let-zhit-odnomu-na-ostrove-vdali-ot-bolshoj-zemli.html?mode=best