Fair winds, Sir
Many did not like him, but I am one of those who did.
The Kapitan Lapkin seiner is always fishing! Once there, I watched from the bridge as the captain of this Soviet vessel found fish just before a storm: he smoked one cigarette after another, drank liters of coffee, frantically looked at the echo sounders showing large schools of fish, looked at the radar showing how all the fishing boats in the area were taking shelter from the approaching storm, then he said aloud, addressing no one in particular:
“Cowardly cormorants! They're running away like rats!”
At first, I didn't understand what he meant, but when the captain rang the bell twice, it became clear that he was going to drop the trawl during the storm and catch this school of fish. The sailors, cursing for no reason, were already pulling on their suits to go out on deck in the pouring rain and wind during heavy seas. They had only one consolation: they called the captain something worse than just a cormorant...
Life on the Kapitan Lapkin fishing boat& The waters of the Kuril Islands. The Pacific Ocean, 2013-2014. Photo by Oleg Klimov
Just today (April 26, 2016) I learned that about two months ago, during the passage of the seiner Kapitan Lapkin from Shikotan Island to the port of Busan, its captain, Alexander Peshkov, who often fished in storms, died. He was my personal image of Moby Dick.
“I need a trawl master on board, not a photographer!” — that was our last harsh conversation.
Life on the Kapitan Lapkin fishing boat. The waters of the Kuril Islands. The Pacific Ocean, 2013-2014. Photo by Oleg Klimov
Five years ago, he offered me a job as a sailor, not a photographer, promising a decent salary if I performed the duties of an electrician, radio operator, and stood watch when necessary. I always refused to be subordinate, although I really wanted to stand watch, and there were always problems with the electrics and electricians on the ship.
But even as an independent photographer, I could drink coffee with him in the captain's cabin, smoke cigarettes, and engage in frivolous conversation. But under his command, I would never have been able to allow myself such things. And if I had, I would have been immediately sent ashore.
Such was Captain Alexander Peshkov — my personal image of the Kuril Moby Dick. Many did not like him, but I am one of those who did.
Fair winds, Captain Peshkov — I hope for the best.
Олег Климов.
Photographer's Diary, Sakhalin Island, 2016