The
Lighthouse
Keeper Down a steep, rutted dirt road at the very
southern tip of Vladivostok's Egershelde Peninsula, two identical green houses sit side-by-side, surrounded by rows of the
summer's final harvest: potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage, beets. The houses sit facing the dark waters of Tokarevsky Cape, where
a lone white lighthouse has stood since 1910. Vasily Ivanovich Ilchenko walks along the narrow path leading from the
houses through the garden rows, his shoulders hunched and his hands stuck into the pockets of his gray pants. He walks out
the wooden gate surrounding the plot of land, pauses to light a cigarette, and starts down the narrow, curving path that
leads out into the water toward the lighthouse.
"This
strip is called the 'cat's tail,'" he says. "It's a natural path out into the water, but they've put some dirt on top to
fortify it. Those rocks along the edge there, that's all natural."
Vasily walks with long, intent strides: the walk of a
man who wants to get where he's going. The way to the lighthouse is scenic, even beautiful: clear water lapping at the
colorful, smooth stones that crunch underfoot, the gentle green hills of Russian Island straight ahead, and the sculpted
bays and coves of Vladivostok to the left. The sun is climbing, the sky is a chalky blue. But Vasily does not seem to notice
these things. He has seen this path many times before. (continued)
Co-produced by FocalPoint f/8 and World Media Network
Designed and Developed by FocalPoint
f/8
About Our Sponsors
Production Credits
All HTML and Graphics © 1995 by FocalPoint f/8, Photos © Gary Matoso
