Photo from open sources
My father, before the revolution, when he was 12 years old, moved from Odessa on the coast of the Aral Sea and lived there until his retirement. Being a hereditary fisherman and having lived in the Aral for 48 years, he knew the sea is all fishing places and visited almost all the islands.
Despite the harsh climate, fish in the Aral Sea are not only caught in summer, but also in winter. Winter fishing there is very hard work. it not at all amateur fishermen sitting by a drilled hole with a fishing rod and waiting for the fish to hook. Winter fish in the Aral caught nets in the ice way. For this it was necessary to break through two ice-hole (and the ice reached a thickness of half a meter!), then they took a pole, secured the net at one end and pushed it under the ice to second hole.
After that, the ends of the network were attached to the posts. Water in the holes it froze, the net floated freely under the ice. Then to choose fish, it was necessary to cut through these holes again and pull out the net. And all it is in wild frost with a fierce wind in wet gloves. At that time there were no rubber gloves or any other devices that protect your hands from moisture.
And in the years 1938-1939 my father with several more fishermen in the winter I went fishing on one of the islands of the Aral Sea. On the at one end of the island was a tiny village of three houses, and the networks were delivered from its other end – five kilometers from the village. Fishermen usually spent the night at a fishing spot nearby. dugout, in the morning they selected fish from nets and on a sled drove it to village, where it was then stored frozen.
That evening my father went with his two friends to his pre-installed networks. They brought along some bread and a little drink. And there was nothing more to take – there was no store in the village, and the counters were empty at that time. However, people at sea always rescued fish, so do not starve.
Came to the place. Decided: let two melt the stove in dugout, and the third will “shake” the net and bring fresh fish in the ear. Next to the dugout was a stack of reeds prepared in advance for winter. Father and a friend fired a furnace for them, then they scored snow in a kettle and a kettle, set on fire and began to wait for a comrade with fish.
That all is not and is not. Now an hour has passed, the second comes. Fishermen worried. We decided to run away to see where it was stocked comrade The island is flat, far away everything is visible. They look – on the ice there are sledges at the holes, and their friend is sitting in them. Is he sleeping or something, or just resting? They ran to him, began to slow him down. Asleep! A you can’t sleep in the cold, you can freeze in a dream. Comrade them not woke up, his bent arms and legs no longer bent, became like pieces of wood.
In half-open eyes, it was as if the ice had frozen. Fishermen tried unclench your hands, straighten your body, but everything turned out to be in vain. Then they quickly brought the sled along with the fisherman to the dugout. Steel again bother buddy, knock, try to unbend – all in vain. Looks like the fisherman froze to death.
At that time they would have a cell phone in their hands, they would have called the Ministry of Emergencies. But, Alas! This can now be done, and then – no connection. Hope only for themselves and for the help of comrades, neither planes, nor helicopters. Doctors somewhere there – hundreds of kilometers away, and around – a white field of ice, frost and fierce icy wind.
They brought the frozen into the small corridor of the dugout. Again felt the pulse – there is no heartbeat. Died! In general, men wrapped up their dead comrade in a nightmare and left in the corridor. Themselves but those who were heartbroken scolded themselves for not being able to protect their friend, missed. Then they remembered that they were going to cook the ear. In the sleigh it turned out to be a fish, apparently, a friend nevertheless checked before his death network. While they cleaned the fish, while they cooked, an hour passed, and maybe that’s all two. Silently sat down to dinner, drank a cup for the repose of the soul of the deceased and set to ear.
And suddenly the door slowly opens, and their voice is heard comrade:
“Why don’t you call me?”
Father and a friend were simply numb, and stared at the person who came in with open mouths. The recent dead man meanwhile entered the dugout and sat down at the table, muttering displeased:
“Why have I been wrapped in a nightmare?” Barely got out!
Then he noticed the petrified faces of his comrades.
– Guys, what are you? Did not recognize me, or what?
Then they realized that their friend was alive and well. No matter how amazingly, it turned out that the frozen, wrapped in a nightmare, himself gradually thawed and regained consciousness. How all three were happy! Later at dinner they drank already for health, and not for peace.
Zinaida Semenovna KAZARENKO, Kemerovo
Fish Island Time
