More than 40 years of measuring wind and counting rain on the outpost island

For more than 40 years, he has been steadfastly measuring the wind and counting the rain on the outpost island, analyzing the dry numbers into life-and-death warnings for millions of people in the Central region who are struggling every day to cope with the harshness of nature.

Hơn 40 năm đo gió, đếm mưa ở đảo tiền tiêu - Ảnh 1. — Ly Son Meteorological and Hydrographic Station

Spend your whole life on the "life and death" numbers

1, 7, 13, 19… the numbers are always in the mind of the staff of the Meteorological and Oceanographic Station Nguyen Nam. Maybe to us, those are just meaningless numbers, but to Mr. Nam, those are the hours to update weather-related data of the day to send to the center on the mainland. Those are normal days. During the rainy and stormy season, that series of numbers will be thicker. Every 30 minutes, he has to brave the rain and wind to stick to the meteorological tent to update the fastest and most accurate data to transmit.

Mr. Nam's attachment to the oceanographic meteorology profession is not only because of his passion for the job, but also stems from his deep sense of responsibility and conscience for the community. With his work, he always keeps in mind: "Every number I record and analyze in a timely manner will contribute to saving many lives and property of the people at important moments." That humane and noble thought has anchored him to the profession, helping him overcome difficult years. When he first arrived on the island to take up the task, with a meager salary, he had to grow onions and garlic to increase his income and stick with the job. He loves the island, loves the job and finds happiness in his dedication.

Hơn 40 năm đo gió, đếm mưa ở đảo tiền tiêu - Ảnh 2. — Mr. Nguyen Nam is recording data at the meteorological tent.

Recalling the time when there was no modern equipment, the work of the meteorologists on the island was an unequal battle with nature. The numbers were calculated manually to report to the center in time. The rainy and stormy season was extremely hard and dangerous. Mr. Nam had to face absolute loneliness in the heart of the storm in the open sea, full of dangers. On nights of heavy rain, big storms, in the middle of hurricanes, terrifying waves that seemed to be able to swallow a small person at any time, Mr. Nam had to stay up all night watching each wind, measuring and subtracting each number and relying on practical experience to promptly report to the mainland. Every hour, sometimes 30 minutes, whether at midnight or dawn, he would carry a flashlight and rush out into the heart of the storm and roaring waves to measure the raw data. At those times, he only thought of one thing: "The accuracy of the numbers is a source of information related to life and death for the mainland." Therefore, no storm could stop him.

Ms. Nguyen Thi Thanh, a ship owner at Ly Son port, was moved when talking about Mr. Nguyen Nam, whom the islanders affectionately call "Mr. Nam the forecaster": "For decades, our ships have trusted the guys at the Meteorological - Oceanographic Station, especially Mr. Nam. Every time we heard that a storm was coming to Ly Son, people looked forward to every storm news from him so they could have a way to respond, reducing a lot of damage. In the past, when there was no internet, Mr. Nam's storm information was more precious than gold."

Hơn 40 năm đo gió, đếm mưa ở đảo tiền tiêu - Ảnh 3. — Quick meeting to report parameters to the center

Live like square banyan flowers

We visited the Ly Son Special Zone Meteorological and Oceanographic Station when it was getting dark. Mr. Nam looked at his watch, quickly took a flashlight and a notebook to the meteorological tent, carefully recorded each index measured on the sensor to transmit the data to the center on time. After finishing his task, he received us at the stone table under the square banyan tree. The banyan flowers bloomed at night, spreading a gentle fragrance mixed with the salty scent of the sea.

Sharing with us his memories of his career, Mr. Nam still remembers the most terrifying memory when typhoon Xangsane hit in 2009. This historic typhoon with gusts of over level 14 raged continuously for 24 hours on Ly Son island. When the storm hit, Mr. Nam and a colleague still resolutely stayed at the station. In the storm, they braved the rain and fought against the wind that could blow them away to collect data and report to the central station...

He remembers clearly that day, the BTS broadcasting station collapsed, the signal was lost, the radio was also not working, and he could not contact to send data to the mainland. He lost contact for more than 3 hours. The wind was strong, he and a colleague had to crawl along the fence to go to a resident's house and use a mobile phone from another network to report data to the center. At that time, he heard that his house's roof had been completely blown away, only his wife and young child were at home. But he thought of his responsibility to the many people waiting for news to respond to the storm, the many human lives that needed information from him, that thought made him continue his work. Waiting until morning, Mr. Nam only dared to rush home to check the situation, then immediately return to the station, struggling with the numbers to continue his storm warning task. Mr. Nam put the general safety above the safety of his family, with the professional responsibility that he always kept in mind.

Hơn 40 năm đo gió, đếm mưa ở đảo tiền tiêu - Ảnh 4. — Mr. Nguyen Nam enthusiastically guides visitors around the outpost.

Mr. Le Van Ha, a long-time fisherman in Ly Son, recalled: "During the 2009 storm, every house was devastated, but the Meteorological Station still made sure to continuously record data and report to the mainland. When he heard that Uncle Nam's house had its roof blown off by the wind, he only came back to take a look, then ran back to the station to work. Truly, he is a hero without a military rank."

Currently, Ly Son Meteorological and Hydrological Station has modern equipment, and information about storms and winds is also updated quickly via social networks. The station currently has only 4 people, and Mr. Nam is the oldest. Although technology has supported him a lot, he has never allowed himself to be subjective. He is still meticulous and careful with every number, because he understands, The trust and lives of the people around the area depend on those numbers.

After more than four decades in the profession, Mr. Nguyen Nam has become a symbol of dedication, a person who measures the wind and counts the rain in the middle of the outpost island. Happiness for him is simple, that is when he knows that, thanks to the numbers he records and reports every hour, ships have found safe shelter; houses and people have been at peace thanks to the information provided. When asked about his greatest wish, Mr. Nguyen Nam did not mention personal desires or compensation for his silent sacrifices. His eyes turned to the sea, where the war with nature is deeply engraved in his mind: "I just wish for peace, less natural disasters, less storms. As long as the people on the island and the people on the mainland are safe, and fishermen can go out to sea safely... That is my greatest wish."

Now, Mr. Nguyen Nam is nearing retirement age. Looking back on his life, he has lived quietly, persistently contributing, like the square-flowered banyan trees clinging to the island soil, silently spreading fragrance and blooming amidst the storms. storm. His silent sacrifice not only contributed to protecting the safety of the community but also spread noble values of responsibility and love for work and homeland. He is forever the pride of the children on the island outpost.