The idea to write this book came along with middle age - fewer and fewer of my classmates are alive. If they did not die tragically at sea, then sea life and hard work did not allow them to be long-livers. Once upon a time, during the bright Soviet times, the trade union achieved pensions for fishing captains at the age of 55, because in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, rarely did any of them live to be 60 years old. We sadly joked: “Captains, like Marshals, do not retire.” The main part of my book is dedicated to the sea and the sailors who died and died. Let the sea soil be to them and the coastal land a soft feather bed. In “Confession of a Captain” I write about lovely women. Memory has preserved their beauty and short moments that gave us joy from life, from youth, from intimacy. It is impossible for a sailor to be happy without a woman, without the woman he loves. Captain Ryabko