There was a knock on the door–insistently, vigorously. By an effort of will, shaking off the remnants of sleep, Yakov stretched out his hand to the table lamp. The hands of the alarm clock showed past midnight. The knocking was repeated, now it did not seem so loud and alarming. “There’s probably an emergency somewhere at sea, and the guys forgot about the electric bell again,” a thought flashed through his mind. The attendant explained briefly:
– The Araks motor ship ran aground at Alaji. The crew needs help. The group leaves for the disaster area in half an hour. I’m going to drop by Grigory Tisikov’s now, and I’ll pick you up on the way back.
At two o’clock, a diving raid boat under the command of Captain Yu. Andrushin moved away from the pier and headed southwest. Excited voices could be heard in the control room: a plan for the upcoming operation was being developed, some details were being clarified. From the sparse data of the received radiogram, it was possible to reconstruct the picture of what happened.
The crew of the Araks carried out urgent dredging work at the dry cargo berth. The holds of the ship were already almost completely filled with soil, when suddenly one of the compartments broke off. The cargo fell out on the seabed, and the ship turned out to be “sitting” on top of it. The situation was aggravated by the fact that the Araks blocked the approach to the pier to other ships, paralyzing the normal life of the port point. And there are urgent cargoes for oil workers, chemists of Cheleken, finished products, equipment.
– Let’s get the equipment ready right away so that we don’t waste a minute later. Ponomarev turned to his comrade. – The work is serious.
Tisikov silently shook Yakov’s hand and was the first to step onto the shaky deck.

The two of them quickly checked the spacesuits, the air ducts, every little thing. It was still a long way from dawn, but I didn’t feel like sleeping. My thoughts involuntarily returned to the upcoming descent into the water. Five years have passed since they, two inseparable army friends, became divers of the Krasnovodsk group of the expeditionary detachment of emergency ship-lifting underwater technical works. Each of them spent more than three thousand hours underwater. And yet, before the next task, there is always excitement…
As soon as the boat, having stopped running, anchored in the raid of the Aladzhinsky pier, searchlight beams flashed over the sea surface: rescuers tried to create the maximum possible “amenities” in such an environment. Yakov Ponomarev was the first to go under the water. Even a cursory inspection of the hull of the stricken vessel indicated that the work ahead was laborious, requiring full dedication and skill. “We will wash the tunnel with a grunt pump,” Yakov transmitted to the surface.
“Then we’ll weld the lads.” Divers worked for seven long hours without a break, replacing each other. Sailors V. Borisenko and A. Skorobogatov acted clearly, ensuring the smooth operation of their comrades. It was only when the “Stand down” command sounded that the captain, not without pride, remarked:
“The standard time has been reduced by almost one and a half times. Well done, guys!”
Many people see their profession as a solid romance: an underwater kingdom, bizarre forms of algae, exotic inhabitants of the depths of the sea. Of course, all this is there, but there is no time to look at this beauty. Try to do a job in heavy armor for several hours in a row that you get tired of on the surface. And there is a twenty–meter water column above your head.

In addition, a diver needs to be a jack of all trades: be able to saw, cook, blow up, mount. There, in the depths, there is no one to rely on but yourself. Therefore, everyone has five or six related specialties. That’s what a modern first class diver is… And they, staggering from fatigue, not having had time to completely drop their equipment, sat down on the stern for a smoke, according to an old army habit.
And as if there were no such exhausting, exhausting hours: jokes were in progress, friendly laughter rang out. How much does a diver need to regain his strength!
Of course, emergency rescue operations don’t happen every day. But there is also enough everyday, unnoticeable from the outside. After all, there is no other group like this on the entire Caspian coast of Turkmenistan. Vessels do not sail without a preliminary preventive inspection, and offshore drilling rigs are not put into operation. Under the control of divers, hydraulic structures of the commercial seaport, port points, ferry crossing, production association “Turkmenrybprom”, ship repair plant.

Fishing collective farms often ask for help. And help comes on time. In any weather, at any time, Caspian divers keep their vigil at sea. A small team of diving-raid bot manages to do everything. The atmosphere of friendship, creative search, friendly mutual assistance, readiness to take a friend’s place at any moment is a good help in their difficult task. We once heard that colleagues from Ukraine have developed an effective device for cleaning the bottoms and kingstones of ships from shells – they got the drawings. Some things have been improved and changed. We made every detail with our own hands. But now it takes a few minutes to work, which used to take hours.
And so it is in everything: big and small. The owners of the water depths are proud of their courageous profession. And they will never trade it for any other. The sea loves the strong…

N. Suhomozsky, Korr. “Turkmen sincere.”
Photo: Y. Ponomarev (leftward) and G. Tisikov.
Photo A. Mirmamedova.