In 1999 the Russia's largest Lenin Fishing Collective Farm (in Kamchatka) celebrated its 70^th anniversary. The Far Eastern Fishermen’s Studio devoted its two new films to this event — The Fishing Seroglazka and Captain Anatoliy Ponomarev.

Documentary pictures and chronicles of fishermen’s glory made by Gennady Lysyakov, the famous Far Eastern cameraman and film director, Russia's honored cultural worker, a winner of the Vasilyev Brothers State Prize, a member of the RF’s Union of Cinematographers, underlie these films.

We are publishing memories of Gennady Nikiforovich about one of most famous fishermen in Kamchatka, who set up world record in fishing in his time that hasn’t beet broken yet, the captain of BMRT “Seroglazka” Anatoliy Andreyevich Ponomarev. His story in most provided ground for one of our films about glorious fate of fishermen from Kamchatka’s Seroglazka.

 

“The order of the sea fascinated him even more, than the scent of a garden in springtime”, — once said Anatoliy Andreyevich’s old friend about him. I wouldn’t dare to dispute that, but during twenty five years of our friendship, captain A. Ponomarev spent most of his life at sea. We met in summer 1969, far from the shores of Kamchatka during fishing of grunter near the Hawaiian Islands. That time I was shooting a regular documentary film about fishermen of the Far East. Our team was based on BMRT “Leninets”; and once a watch broadcasted me to ascend to the bridge with a camera. I thought it were sharks that appeared near our boat we longed to film and having grasped my camera I rushed to the bridge. But the watch handed a microphone to me.

— Hi, press! You are staying too long! We are working hard too, and here on “Seroglazka” we have something for you — broadcasted a cheerful voice. — Come to us and we’ll show you our secrets. A motorboat has been sent for you and it’ll be in half an hour.

I knew from talks during captain’s hour that “Seroglazka” was a recognized leader in fisheries and newly arrived crews often consulted Ponomarev. Therefore I agreed though, as you understand, little depended upon me, and some time later I was ascending a rope ladder. At the board I was met by a smiling sunburned sturdy man with his hair close-cropped, who was in shorts obviously made from trousers.

— Welcome to “Seroglazka” — said he offering his hand, then took my bags and guided me to a cabin. I thought he was a watch whom the captain ordered to see me. Meanwhile my guide opened the door of the captain’s cabin and put my things down.

— Make yourself at home. I’ll sleep on the sofa: they may come to me any time. You’ll feel more comfortable there — and he pointed to the next bedroom. Then I realized that it was the director-captain of “Seroglazka” Anatoliy Andreyevich Ponomarev. In a minute the watch’s voices broadcasted to come the first mate to the captain’s cabin.

— Vasilyich! — said he in a few minutes, when assistant of the political instructor came in. — We have to equip the press. He will sweat in trousers.

Sadly I looked at my strong regular cameraman jeans expecting for the order to cut them to the knees like those he was wearing on. Having stolen my anxious look, he reassured me: “We’re going to make shorts from out stuff, just going to take your measurements”…

When I awoke next morning, I saw “my” new shorts hanging on the back of a chair. The jeans were in place, though I couldn’t find my genuine American shoes made of strong, probably, buffalo leather that had served faithfully and endured multiple climbs of erupting Kamchatka’s volcanoes, — instead there were home slippers.

There was nothing to do, and having taken the slippers I embarked on examining the trawler. I saw the captain on the deck: Andeich, everybody called him so, together with the trawl watch were mending the net. At the sight of me he clarified the matter: “Your British shoes are very good, but they need some repair. We have an excellent shoemaker”.

It was really so — by the end of the day my repaired genuine boots had been in their place and looked like new ones.

Only later I knew that A.A. Ponomarev staffing the crew always took care that fish factory workers were specialists of different trades. Voyages were very long and people needed various services, which, by the way, were provided absolutely free.

I faced there something else… Before my visit to the trawler I heard about captain’s odds, but, as it eventually turned out, it was nothing but Andreich’s concern about people’s leisure with whom he was sailing for weeks and months in the open sea, his desire to relieve the voyage associated with separation from kin and land. On the board there was rooster Petka that crowed loudly in the morning, dog Stepan — a pet of watch brigade, and two universal pets — Vaska and Kolka — piglets that lived on the upper deck. They always gathered free from watch seamen around who gazed at them and fed them.

Andreich explained the presence of the piglets very simply:

— It reminds us home and we’ll have fresh meat to next holiday.

The captain’s simplicity amazed me in the beginning: I knew that there was a kind of caste on many big vessels — a crewmember and a worker were people of different worlds. Here they consulted the DIRECTOR-CAPTAIN (!) himself without hesitation, they called him Andreich. He knew many fish-factory workers, let along the crew by first and patronymic names. Although there is nothing to be surprised at, as “Seroglazka’s” team changed inconsiderably — people on shore were waiting for months before they got into this well known boat. Wages were always high there, fairly good conditions of living, and the captain himself was a legend. He could easily step down to the “crematorium”, the fertilizer shop, with temperature 50° C and bad smell that not everybody could stand. It was a shop where fish flour was boiled and fish oil pressed. Andreich took pains to make labor of fertilizer workers easier and raise their wages. It was not occasionally then that firstly he asked me to show in my film: “Those intolerable conditions of working”. As for the captain, he personally didn’t like to act in films, and when he had to, he felt uneasy.

It was funny to watch him standing on the bridge. I remember: a trawler next to us is hauling in without slowing its speed. Ponomarev can’t stand it any more and takes a microphone: “Kalaguir”, “Kalaguir”… are you going to hang your panties over corrals?” — In jargon it meant: watch or you may catch and tear your net. As a matter of fact, he liked to help others, to share his experience. In my presence there were several delegations of fishermen on board who delved into every detail. Captain Andreich took a “bribe” for each visit!!! He asked delegates to take a couple of new films for exchange. Therefore the crew of “Seroglazka” always welcomed delegations.

Even in pre-perestroika times everybody could see on Andreich’s note board how much everybody earned: what was the personal daily output, how much the shift gained, who was punished for spoiling package, who was mentioned for a perfect piece of job.

Once Andreich and I were taking a steam bath, slightly beating ourselves with ordinary floor besoms wrapped in towels. Nearby were workers. The door opened and the boatswain came in: “Andreich, here is fresh kvass… ” Some days before he had been severely punished by the captain for dereliction of duty.

 

I’m not going to idealize captain Ponomarev. Like every one of us he had faults but they NEVER became apparent, never interfered with business, never troubled anyone. Therefore people were reaching out to him, he was respected, but many also envied him.

He was brightest among the stars in the sky of Kamchatka fishermen.