"My father began working at this lighthouse in1954, when I was 10," he says, squinting up at the whitewashed structure. "My brother and I grew up here, and now we run the lighthouse, like my father did."

Vasily's life at the lighthouse has changed very little in the many years he has lived there: since the Soviet Union fell, he says, his salary doesn't stretch quite as far and the lighthouse isn't repainted as often as he'd like. Other than that, he lives much in the same way as his father did before him.

But there are signs that his tranquil lifestyle may soon be a thing of the past. Mounds of dirt lining the shore by their plot of land mark the spot where a joint venture company has begun digging out a landing for its ships. The company, which includes French and Japanese partners, is planning to turn the isolated tip of the peninsula into a hub for their maritime traffic.

"They started working out here this past spring. I don't know if they'll be able to pull it off or not, whether they'll have the money. If they do, they do," says Vasily, shrugging and tossing his cigarette butt to the ground. "It's not anything to get sad about." Vasily's wife Valentina, who also works at the lighthouse, isn't so sure. "We have a good life out here. Our families live together, we like our work, we have a nice bit of land to live on. It would be a shame if all this were to change."(continued)