100-year-old dynasty of Ukrainian meteorologists

At the very edge of the steep bank of the alpine Cheremosh River near Kuty, in Ivano-Frankivsk oblast, stands a run-down two-story structure without windows and doors. It is a gathering place for local teenagers out to have a good time and who have covered its walls with graffiti. But it is unlikely that they are familiar with the history of their hangout. At the turn of the 20th century, when there was a strong railroad bridge in place of the present-day makeshift wooden path, which linked two countries, aristocratic Poland and boiar-ruled Romania (today: Ivano-Frankivsk oblast and Bukovyna, respectively), the riverbank structure housed a border checkpoint and customs post. In one of the ground-floor rooms there was a hydro-meteorological post, although weather observations in this area began much earlier.

AN OUTPOST ON THE CHEREMOSH RIVER

According to Tetiana Nehadailova, the chief of the Chernivtsi Hydro-Meteorological Center to which the Kuty post is subordinated, under Austro-Hungarian rule there was a large network of hydro- meteorological posts in what is now Chernivtsi oblast; there were even more of them than today.

During the first half of the 19th century (the exact date is unknown) Vienna, the world’s leader in weather observation and forecasting, set up new meteorological and hydrological posts on the fringes of its empire, including Kuty. This post was important not only because the densely-populated town of Kuty stood on the banks of an unpredictable mountain river. Gauging the water level of the Cheremosh, especially the snow melting in the mountains and the seasonal torrential rains, made it possible to forecast downstream water thrust, thereby warding off the tragic consequences of floods. Thus, in order to improve river observation, in 1873 the Galician authorities in Lviv requested the Chernivtsi regional administration (Chernivtsi oblast and Galicia were part of Austro-Hungary) to install a water gauge on the Bukovyna side as well. Owing to lack of archival information, it is not known whether this request was satisfied. Nor do we know who carried out weather observations in Kuty in the latter part of the 19th century. The first person mentioned in archival documents in connection with this hydrological post is Volodymyr Tomashevsky, whose descendants are still keeping a non-stop watch on the Cheremosh River.

POLYGLOT, SOLDIER, HYDROLOGIST, PERSONALITY

Born in 1892 into a middle-class family in Kuty, Volodymyr Tomashevsky received a good education for those times. Work at a hydrological post required knowledge, so the position was offered to Tomashevsky, the best graduate of his high school, who had a fluent command of six languages. The polyglot from Kuty became a weatherman in 1909 by pure chance.

“When World War I broke out, Volodymyr enlisted in the army,” his son-in-law Yaroslav Oliinyk said. “My father-in-law saw service throughout the war, but he never fired at people. He served in the gendarmerie, maintaining order.”

After the war ended, Tomashevsky came home, and when a number of independent states emerged from the ruins of Austro-Hungary, he continued to work at the hydro-meteorological post, which now belonged to Poland.

“There was a terrible flood on the Cheremosh in the interwar period — in 1928, to be precise,” Oliinyk explained, recalling what his father-in-law had told him. “Word had it that the river had flooded over half of Kuty and Vyzhnytsi, a neighboring town on the Chernivtsi oblast side. Thanks to Tomashevsky’s early warning, there were no casualties: tipped off, residents promptly moved to a higher elevation.”

Those were stormy years. After the flooding, a new government arrived on both banks of the Cheremosh, and Galicia and Bukovyna became part of the USSR. Then the Second World War began. When the front line receded further westward, Tomashevsky, who was not a communist, was appointed to oversee a warehouse of captured materiel, the most valuable part of which was salt. The kindhearted Tomashevsky could not deny people an utterly indispensable pinch of salt. Every day residents of Kuty, Vyzhnytsia, and various neighboring villages would come and fill their little bags with it.

The hydrologist barely managed to evade punishment for this “wrong” behavior. Since nobody was familiar with the work at the Cheremosh post better than him and taking into account the construction of an airfield near Kuty, which required not only hydrological but professional meteorological surveillance for the needs of the air force, the “dissident” Tomashevsky was allowed to keep his position.

FROM WEDDING TO WORK

Life gradually improved. The hydrologist’s daughter Iryna grew up and began to help her father. One day at a dance, she caught the eye of Yaroslav Oliinyk, who had come to Kuty to visit his sister. The young man lost his heart to the Cheremosh beauty and decided to have a serious talk with her father. Although he was good-natured, never shunned the company of his fellows, and liked to joke around, he looked every bit like a stern and unfriendly soldier. Somebody told the young suitor that the hydrologist came to the river twice a day at the same time, carrying a bundle of instruments. So they met at the post, and some time later the young couple got married.

After graduating from the Lviv Polytechnic and the Physics School of Chernivtsi University, Oliinyk taught school and then became the director of the Vyzhnytsia School of Decorative and Applied Arts. His wife Iryna, now deceased, officially assumed the duties of her elderly father. When she retired, her husband replaced her. For nearly a decade, their son Oleh has been keeping a daily meteorological watch, having followed in the footsteps of his grandfather and father.

Since hydrological observations must be conducted almost every hour, the Oliinyk family could never leave their home, even for a day. Every day at 8 a.m. and 8 p.m. sharp they had to gauge the level, temperature, and flow rate of the Cheremosh River and radio the data to Chernivtsi and Kyiv at 8:30 at the latest (when the water level rises, measurements should be made once every four hours, day and night). So when Yaroslav was at his son’s wedding, he had to leave the festivities and go to work, much to his guests’ surprise.

THE CHEREMOSH STILL SHOWS ITS CHARACTER

Apart from the daily duties that he inherited from his grandfather and father, Oleh has other tasks. Although the Cheremosh River has become almost three times shallower in the past few decades because of gravel recession and deforestation, last year a flood washed away the new hydrological post, leaving no stone unturned. Everything had to be rebuilt once the bank was reinforced: stone steps to the river, special water gauges calibrated to the sea level, and a building for new state-of-the-art equipment. When I visited the place, work was in full swing: father and son stopped working to talk to me for a few minutes.

“Hello, granddad!” It was Yaroslav’s younger grandson Slavko coming back from school when I was saying goodbye to the elder Oliinyks. Whenever they can, he and his brother Ivan accompany their father and grandfather to the post, where they help out and observe the work going on around them. Maybe the boys will become the fourth generation of the Tomashevsky-Oliinyk family to work as meteorologists.