EntranceKerch Maritime University. Kerch State Marine Technological University
There is probably not a single boy who, even for a short time, dreamed of adventures and distant countries. And in Kerch, a port city, even more so many dreamed of exciting voyages. After all, almost every family has a sailor who served in a fishing artel or on ships long voyage, and endless sea stories excite the imagination.
Kerch Maritime Technological University makes dreams of the sea come true. Founded 20 years ago, the university has earned fame as a leading university in Ukraine that trains specialists marine profile. On the basis of KSMTU its branches operate in Feodosia, Odessa, Kherson and Belgorod-Dnestrovsky. The University of Kerch provides students with a dormitory, lecture halls, reading rooms, simulators and computers, specialized laboratories and classrooms. And in the library, students will find specialized literature, the volume of which exceeds 100 thousand copies.
Many Ukrainian students today go to America on special programs that allow them to earn money and study better English language. The Work and Travel 2012 program is popular among students because it helps partially satisfy their thirst for travel. Usually the trip lasts 3-4 months, in the summer, so as not to interfere with the educational process.
Frigate "Chersonese" in Kerch
Students travel to KSMTU for six months from April to October. The university owns a sailing vessel, which has been laid up for several years, two small vessels, a training center and a boat training base.
"Khersones" last flight in 2006
It was on the “Chersonese” - the legendary sailing ship that rounded Cape Horn - that students underwent internships, during which they visited dozens of countries and seas. After and during their studies, future seafarers undergo internships at shipping companies in Germany and the UK.
Material from Wikipedia - free encyclopedia
| Kerch State Marine Technological University (KSMTU) |
|
| International name |
Kerch State Maritime Technological University |
|---|---|
| Former names |
Kerch branch of the Kaliningrad Technical Institute of Fishery Industry and Economy, Kerch Marine Technological Institute (KMTI) |
| Year of foundation | |
| Type |
State University |
| Rector | |
| Location |
Crimea Crimea, Kerch |
| Legal address |
University structureThe university has three faculties:
And four educational divisions:
Areas of training and specialties
The university's graduate school provides training in the following scientific specialties:
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An excerpt characterizing the Kerch State Marine Technological University- Why is this guy driving in front of the line? – someone shouted at him again.“Take it left, take it right,” they shouted to him. Pierre turned to the right and unexpectedly moved in with the adjutant of General Raevsky, whom he knew. This adjutant looked angrily at Pierre, obviously intending to shout at him too, but, recognizing him, nodded his head to him. - How are you here? – he said and galloped on. Pierre, feeling out of place and idle, afraid to interfere with someone again, galloped after the adjutant. - This is here, what? Can I come with you? - he asked. “Now, now,” answered the adjutant and, galloping up to the fat colonel standing in the meadow, he handed him something and then turned to Pierre. - Why did you come here, Count? - he told him with a smile. -Are you all curious? “Yes, yes,” said Pierre. But the adjutant, turning his horse, rode on. “Thank God here,” said the adjutant, “but on Bagration’s left flank there is a terrible heat going on.” - Really? asked Pierre. - Where is this? - Yes, come with me to the mound, we can see from us. “But our battery is still bearable,” said the adjutant. - Well, are you going? “Yes, I’m with you,” said Pierre, looking around him and looking for his guard with his eyes. Here, only for the first time, Pierre saw the wounded, wandering on foot and carried on stretchers. In the same meadow with fragrant rows of hay through which he drove yesterday, across the rows, his head awkwardly turned, one soldier lay motionless with a fallen shako. - Why wasn’t this raised? - Pierre began; but, seeing the stern face of the adjutant, looking back in the same direction, he fell silent. Pierre did not find his guard and, together with his adjutant, drove down the ravine to the Raevsky mound. Pierre's horse lagged behind the adjutant and shook him evenly. “Apparently you’re not used to riding a horse, Count?” – asked the adjutant. “No, nothing, but she’s jumping around a lot,” Pierre said in bewilderment. “Eh!.. yes, she’s wounded,” said the adjutant, “right front, above the knee.” Must be a bullet. Congratulations, Count,” he said, “le bapteme de feu [baptism by fire]. Having driven through the smoke through the sixth corps, behind the artillery, which, pushed forward, was firing, deafening with its shots, they arrived at a small forest. The forest was cool, quiet and smelled of autumn. Pierre and the adjutant dismounted from their horses and entered the mountain on foot. - Is the general here? – asked the adjutant, approaching the mound. “We were there now, let’s go here,” they answered him, pointing to the right. The adjutant looked back at Pierre, as if not knowing what to do with him now. “Don’t worry,” said Pierre. – I’ll go to the mound, okay? - Yes, go, you can see everything from there and it’s not so dangerous. And I'll pick you up. Pierre went to the battery, and the adjutant went further. They did not see each other again, and much later Pierre learned that this adjutant’s arm was torn off that day. The mound that Pierre entered was the famous one (later known among the Russians under the name of the kurgan battery, or Raevsky’s battery, and among the French under the name la grande redoute, la fatale redoute, la redoute du center [the great redoubt, the fatal redoubt, the central redoubt ] a place around which tens of thousands of people were positioned and which the French considered the most important point of the position. This redoubt consisted of a mound on which ditches were dug on three sides. In a place dug in by ditches there were ten firing cannons, stuck out into the opening of the shafts. There were cannons lined up with the mound on both sides, also firing incessantly. A little behind the guns stood the infantry troops. Entering this mound, Pierre did not think that this place, dug in with small ditches, on which several cannons stood and fired, was the most important place in the battle. To Pierre, on the contrary, it seemed that this place (precisely because he was on it) was one of the most insignificant places of the battle. Entering the mound, Pierre sat down at the end of the ditch surrounding the battery, and with an unconsciously joyful smile looked at what was happening around him. From time to time, Pierre still stood up with the same smile and, trying not to disturb the soldiers who were loading and rolling guns, constantly running past him with bags and charges, walked around the battery. The guns from this battery fired continuously one after another, deafening with their sounds and covering the entire area with gunpowder smoke. In contrast to the creepiness that was felt between the infantry soldiers of the cover, here, on the battery, where a small number of people busy with work are white limited, separated from others by a ditch - here one felt the same and common to everyone, as if a family revival. The appearance of the non-military figure of Pierre in a white hat initially struck these people unpleasantly. The soldiers, passing by him, glanced sideways at his figure in surprise and even fear. The senior artillery officer, a tall, long-legged, pockmarked man, as if to watch the action of the last gun, approached Pierre and looked at him curiously. A young, round-faced officer, still a complete child, apparently just released from the corps, very diligently disposing of the two guns entrusted to him, addressed Pierre sternly. “Mister, let me ask you to leave the road,” he told him, “it’s not allowed here.” The soldiers shook their heads disapprovingly, looking at Pierre. But when everyone was convinced that this man in a white hat not only did nothing wrong, but either sat quietly on the slope of the rampart, or with a timid smile, courteously avoiding the soldiers, walked along the battery under gunfire as calmly as along the boulevard, then Little by little, the feeling of hostile bewilderment towards him began to turn into affectionate and playful sympathy, similar to that which soldiers have for their animals: dogs, roosters, goats and in general animals living with military commands. These soldiers immediately mentally accepted Pierre into their family, appropriated them and gave him a nickname. “Our master” they nicknamed him and laughed affectionately about him among themselves. One cannonball exploded into the ground two steps away from Pierre. He, cleaning the soil sprinkled with the cannonball from his dress, looked around him with a smile. - And why aren’t you afraid, master, really! - the red-faced, broad soldier turned to Pierre, baring his strong white teeth. -Are you afraid? asked Pierre. - How then? - answered the soldier. - After all, she will not have mercy. She will smack and her guts will be out. “You can’t help but be afraid,” he said, laughing. Several soldiers with cheerful and affectionate faces stopped next to Pierre. It was as if they did not expect him to speak like everyone else, and this discovery delighted them. - Our business is soldierly. But master, it’s so amazing. That's it master! - In places! - the young officer shouted at the soldiers gathered around Pierre. This young officer, apparently, was fulfilling his position for the first or second time and therefore treated both the soldiers and the commander with particular clarity and formality. The rolling fire of cannons and rifles intensified throughout the entire field, especially to the left, where Bagration’s flashes were, but because of the smoke of the shots, it was impossible to see almost anything from the place where Pierre was. Moreover, observing the seemingly family (separated from all others) circle of people who were on the battery absorbed all of Pierre’s attention. His first unconscious joyful excitement, produced by the sight and sounds of the battlefield, was now replaced, especially after the sight of this lonely soldier lying in the meadow, by another feeling. Now sitting on the slope of the ditch, he observed the faces surrounding him. |