Kerch as a test: a storm at the crossing

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Departure from the Crimea ate a day and completely squeezed us out, depriving us of all our strength. A storm raged on the ferry crossing in Kerch - the movement of ferries stalled, and people turned into a queue of many thousands. This was a great challenge.


Kerch ferry (Kavkaz port - Crimea port) - this is the gateway to get to the coveted peninsula. Apart from the Simferopol airport, the Kerch ferry remained the only route to Crimea for Russians. She has already managed to turn into a legend - I think everyone knows what difficulties people have to go through who dare to travel to Crimea (especially those with their own car). The Kerch ferry crossing has become a purgatory, through which one must pass, humbly enduring all the hardships and hardships in order to deserve a rest in the Crimea.

we went to Crimea at the very end of August, with the expectation that there would be no big problems at the crossing - after all, the season was already ending and the pressure of vacationers should have decreased. Our expectations were met, but only half: the way there was really quite easy (apart from the two-hour delay in the departure of the ferry), but the way back, contrary to all expectations, became a difficult test.

A storm broke out.

Ferries to Kerch stopped - it became too dangerous to cross. Between the two shores, the Crimean and the Russian mainland, there were only one or two small ferries, designed for only two hundred people, and then at long intervals.

At two o'clock in the afternoon we got in line. More precisely, we joined the crowd, because the queue as a kind of organized line of people did not exist in principle - the proximity to the cherished entrance to board the ferry was knocked out by jerks and tactical cunning (it was necessary to realize which part of the crowd was compressed the least tightly, and of this part).

At ten o'clock in the evening we squeezed through to the exit to the pier. Everything in between is continuous standing and tedious balancing to maintain balance and combat leg swelling.

Every two or three hours there was a surge of excitement, as people began to enter the ferry. It was possible to observe how the body movements of people spread in the crowd in the form of a wave: first a number of people descend to pick up their bags, then they straighten up and begin to move forward, then, having reached the limit of possible advancement, they stop - each row of the crowd repeats these movements with a millisecond delay.

Surprisingly, outright madness and wild chaos did not occur during this waiting in line for the ferry crossing. Still, human nature assumes that when a crowd is formed, every element of it loses its mind and spills out aggression. For some unknown reason, this time everything worked out - people did not reach the extreme degree of despair, many joked (and this is very important! Laughter and irony well drown out hatred and rage), talked with each other, got to know neighbors in turn.

What caused this, I cannot answer. This is doubly a mystery, because during these events at least some kind of organization on the part of the ferrymen and policemen was completely absent - by and large, everything was left to chance. People, of course, tirelessly resented this outrage, but neither stones nor even obscene words flew at people in uniform.

But one should not have any illusions about this line. The clouds thickened gradually: madness and rage grew in direct proportion to the approach to the desired entrance to the pier. At the beginning of the line there was the greatest density of people (it was no longer possible to step from foot to foot and often even move your hand), here there was also the greatest crush - the pressure from behind knocked us off our feet (fortunately, we did not fall, otherwise it would be over). Many swore and shoved. But all the bad things happened only at the moments of general revival due to the opening of the doors to the exit to the ferry. Peace was invariably established during protracted expectations.

Oh, how lucky we are with the weather! There was no rain or heat, and the wall and the bodies of neighbors in turn were shielded from the hurricane wind.

So, at ten in the evening, at the cost of great effort and suffering, we made our way through the doorway separating the crowd from the pier. You could stretch your legs by walking and finally sit down. The ferry arrived an hour later. After another hour, he sailed.

When you are on the shore, the existence of a storm is in doubt - you can't see the waves, you can't hear the noise. The storm as a fact is recognized only at the moment when you already begin to sail across the Kerch Bay: a strong pitching begins, and as soon as you leave the inner premises of the ferry, you come face to face with the raging sea. The wave was really big and the wind was incredibly strong. From one side of the ferry, the waves rose especially high, crashing onto the deck with the power of hundreds of liters of water. One could feel what the element is, what the force of nature is, to which a person cannot oppose anything. But it was beautiful and Kantian sublime.

A formidable wind brought bad news - a call to such a distant parental home at that moment announced that grandmother had died today. The elements raged - now of the two of us, only she had strength left, and I was exhausted.

Consciousness somehow cleared, the only thing that was spinning in my thoughts was a phrase from some old Soviet film, which for some reason I was afraid to write, pronounce and even pronounce in my thoughts. Maybe it's from Tarkovsky, from "The Mirror", for example. Or maybe it was "Flights in Dreams and in Reality" with Oleg Yankovsky. These words were accompanied by a feeling of dampness, as from dew, and a green, grassy color, scattered through the moisture of the fog, which occurs only early and early in the morning, when the sun is just rising. But I can’t remember exactly where this phrase and the accompanying images came from. Perhaps someday I will meet her again in the cinema, but there is no desire to look specifically.

(Shot from "Flights in Dreams and in Reality", 1974)

(Shot from "The Mirror", 1974)

Now, when I remember that evening, those minutes when I spoke on the phone with my parents' house, it seems to me that lightning flashed outside, and long raindrops whipped across the window glass of the ferry, although I know for sure that none of this happened - there was only wind and waves. Apparently, consciousness itself completes the picture, adds elements to it, which, in its opinion, are lacking. The thunderstorm and the downpour with sharp drops, I think, appeared because the memory needs a clear image that can be grasped in order to preserve the complex feelings experienced at that moment for many years. Memory is a strange thing. I believe that over time, the knowledge that there was neither lightning nor downpour that evening in reality will be erased from it, and I will remember it already in an inseparable bond with them. And then one day I will read these lines and be confused by not knowing what to believe.

In the first hour of the night we were already on the opposite bank of the Kerch ferry, in the port "Kavkaz". The task was to find a bus that could take us anywhere from this place. All buses that could be found here at night were intended for holders of a "single ticket" from Russian Railways, so it was necessary to negotiate with the drivers so that they would take us for some kind of payment.

As often happens, the people brilliantly showed their filthy character trait - to profit from the misfortunes and problems of people. Bus drivers and taxi drivers, catering workers - everyone who was lucky enough to be in Kerch or the port "Kavkaz" during a storm, raised prices several times for their services and goods. Help, support, solidarity - no, this country has not heard about this.When the question is about the opportunity to earn extra money, the Russian brother will do anything not to miss such a chance. The fat-faced driver of one of the buses offered to take us for 1000 rubles per person, overstating the usual fare by about five times. After some time we found a chauffeur who "graciously" agreed to take us for 1000 from two.

Then there were tiresome hours on the bus with short-term lapses in restless sleep, a change with waiting at the bus station, a new bus, a few more hours of travel, and in the morning - arrival at the final point of the journey, in Abinsk.

At the bus station in Krasnodar, where at night we waited for our bus, the entire surrounding space took on an extremely ghostly and unrealistic character. Among the benches and platforms for stopping transport stood a completely alien element - a game machine. It continuously sounded like a strange, irrelevant melody, looped and endless. Both this music and the machine itself were not supposed to be here and now. It was like some kind of glitch in the matrix, as if our universe was interconnected with its parallel sister. Of course, due to the burden of what happened, my very perception was broken and knocked down, but one cannot argue - this melody can finish anyone.

About the crowd

• Being in a crowd is scary and dangerous. But I think everyone knows this. When the crowd is in the waiting phase, it is very crowded, it is almost impossible to move. When it starts to move, it can trample and tear to pieces - it is useless to fight with the pressure of the crowd, no muscle strength can withstand the pressure of hundreds and thousands of people. Therefore, you need to very carefully monitor where you are standing and where the pressure will come from, calculate your movements, do your best to correctly balance and look for points of support. But it is better not to meddle in the crowd at all. If I had known in advance what we would have to go through in Kerch during this storm, I would not have to stand in line, but it would have been better to find a place to live in Kerch or go back to wait out the troubled days.

I am sure that this will be repeated on the Kerch ferry crossing every year - hardly anyone will hesitate to thoroughly work out the organization of the ferry in critical situations, because you can simply keep silent about it on TV, and people will not be unnecessarily worried. So, if one day you arrive in Kerch by ferry, and the weather prepares a storm - do not rush to take a place in line, it is better to extend your vacation in Crimea for a few more days until everything is settled. Save nerves, strength, you will not risk your health.

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