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Red Summer: The Danger, Madness, and Exaltation of Salmon Fishing in a Remote Alaskan Village [NOOK Book]

Overview

A vivid, unforgettable account of the danger, pain, and joy of working on a salmon fishing boat and living in a small village on the farthest edge of Alaska

Set in the tiny Native village of Egegik on the shores of Alaska's Bristol Bay, Bill Carter's Red Summer is the thrilling story of one man's journey from novice to seasoned fisherman over the course of four beautiful, brutal summers in one of the earth's few remaining wild places. As ...
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Red Summer: The Danger, Madness, and Exaltation of Salmon Fishing in a Remote Alaskan Village

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Overview

A vivid, unforgettable account of the danger, pain, and joy of working on a salmon fishing boat and living in a small village on the farthest edge of Alaska

Set in the tiny Native village of Egegik on the shores of Alaska's Bristol Bay, Bill Carter's Red Summer is the thrilling story of one man's journey from novice to seasoned fisherman over the course of four beautiful, brutal summers in one of the earth's few remaining wild places. As millions of salmon race toward their annual spawning grounds, Carter learns the ancient, backbreaking trade of the set net fisherman, one of the most exhilarating and dangerous jobs in the world.

Housed in a dilapidated shack with no hot water and boarded-up windows that keep the bears at bay, Carter spends his days battling the elements on the river and his nights drinking whiskey with a memorable group of hardworking, hard-living characters. There's Sharon, the tough, charismatic woman who runs Carter's fishing crew; Carl, her stoic but warmhearted colleague; and a half-dozen local fishermen, many born and raised in this unforgiving place. Their stories -- harrowing, touching, full of humor -- all underscore the credo of the village's fishermen: Do the work or leave.

Carter's crew is imperiled a number of times as tides rise, nets are snagged, and the weight of too many fish threatens to sink their boat. Written with gusto and honesty, Red Summer brims with astonishing human experience and joins the grand tradition of books written by great American outdoorsmen-writers such as Ernest Hemingway, Edward Abbey, Peter Matthiessen, and Sebastian Junger. Red Summer will appeal not only to fishermen, naturalists, adventurers, and armchair anthropologists alike but also to anyone who has ever yearned, however privately, to escape the bonds of modern civilization.
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Editorial Reviews

Sid Evans
Red Summer is about life at the extreme edge of the food chain, and nowhere is the food chain more violent, more awesome or more intense than in Egegik.
—The New York Times
Kirkus Reviews
Lessons from four grueling summers spent fishing for sockeye salmon in an isolated village on the Alaskan peninsula. Egegik is part of Bristol Bay, one of the world's biggest-and last remaining-sockeye salmon runs. Lured by the unparalleled beauty of the Alaskan bush, Carter (Fools Rush In: A True Story of Love, War, and Redemption, 2005) joined the team of Sharon Hart and Carl Adams, seasoned fishermen who earned their colleagues' respect for their toughness and their peculiar brand of hospitality. The author's struggle to fit in with the often hostile residents of Egegik prompted him to analyze the community's warped social structure, engendered by brutal working and living conditions. He spends as much time sketching the characters in the village as he does describing their shared occupation. Hart, Adams and Carter practiced set netting, which involves stretching out a long net and waiting for the salmon to fill it, then laboriously picking out the fish, often for 15 hours at a time. Each day, the team filled their skiffs with thousands of pounds of salmon, which, like the cold water and extreme tides, surrounded the fishermen with plenty of potential complications. Despite the danger, exhaustion and near-constant physical pain, Carter could not resist returning each summer for four years. In Egegik he found a place where nature still rules, where time (as defined by "the Lower 48") does not exist and where backbreaking work calms the mind, distilling its desires down to the basics of food, shelter and rest. In addition to providing lively anecdotes, Carter explores the larger environmental and cultural circumstances of his job with sensitivity and intelligence, couching theparticularities of the fishing process and the salmon life cycle in terms a novice can follow. A simple but satisfying blend of memoir, cultural anthropology and environmental analysis. Agent: Betsy Lerner/Dunow, Carlson & Lerner
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781416566045
  • Publisher: Scribner
  • Publication date: 5/13/2008
  • Sold by: SIMON & SCHUSTER
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 256
  • Sales rank: 1,113,770
  • File size: 735 KB

Meet the Author

Bill Carter is the author of Red Summer: The Danger, Madness, and Exaltation of Salmon Fishing in a Remote Alaskan Village and Fools Rush In: A True Story of Love, War, and Redemption. He has written for Rolling Stone, Outside, Men’s Journal, and other publications.
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Read an Excerpt


Arrival

I look out the plane's copilot window and from up here the view is perfect and flat in all directions except to the south, where sixty miles away the ground rises in a cone-shaped volcano: the snowcapped Mount Peulik. The sun leans heavily toward the north pole and the land abruptly ends as it disappears into Bristol Bay, which from the air, on a clear day, looks like a flat plate of tinted glass. Looking east and west the flat tundra landscape spreads outward, disappearing at the bend of the earth.

My destination is the small village of Egegik, 350 miles southwest of Anchorage on the western side of the Alaskan Peninsula, a stretch of land that extends out from the mainland 475 miles, and averages 50 miles wide. Cut off from the interior by a vast mountain range, the peninsula is geographically isolated, even from Alaskans. At its farthest point west the Aleutian chain begins, a 1,200-mile strip of islands aimed at Russia in the shape of a kite's tail. The only way to Egegik is by sea or plane, and by sea one must navigate the violent waters of the Bering Sea, not something done by anyone other than commercial fishermen or cargo ships.

I boarded the plane in King Salmon, Alaska, and strapped myself in the copilot chair. The only other seats on the plane were occupied, one with cargo and the other with a female passenger; a Native woman who was busy chatting with the pilot about something. Thrilled by the landscape below I quickly put in my earplugs, and adjusted my sunglasses to shield my eyes from the Alaskan sun, that cosmic torch that taunts all summertime visitors to the Great North.

Now I scan the earth for any clues of a human footprint. A house. A road. A discarded boat, or heap of trash. But there is nothing. From my angle there isn't even a tree, at least one standing over four feet tall. There are no hills, just a flatness, the kind one imagines astronauts see as they peer down at earth from space, the world smashed flat by the relative distance. But there are the thousand shallow ponds that dot the tundra, a broken mirror shimmering the reflection of the plane's metal, exposing how small we are in comparison to the landscape before us.

These pockets of water fill topographical wounds created ten thousand years ago, as the last of the great glaciers slowly receded, scraping the land as they disappeared, like a giant John Deere bulldozer clearing a road. A road the size of Tennessee. As the millennia passed, mountains disappeared, pulverized to rock and pebbles, leaving behind indentations in the earth's surface, which then became lakes and ponds, making the area resemble a gigantic soccer field full of potholes after a fresh rain.

The lack of trees can shock the first-time visitor. The flora is thick but short and bent over, genetically altered by thousands of years of wind blasting down from the Arctic with nearly hurricane force. That isn't to say there is a lack of vegetation. The ground is teeming with green. Tundra grass, alders, and willow squeeze together and cover every square inch of the land. They grow in low thickets, each species intertwining with the next, growing sideways instead of upward.

With the wind behind us, we fly over a river and a tiny village. It looks deserted, not a person in sight, only a cloud of dust rising up behind a single van driving toward the airstrip. There are a few large water tanks, some heavy equipment, and a row of sea cargo containers, but no people. Several large buildings are covered with rusted tin roofing on the bank of the river. Steam billows from a smokestack. This must be the cannery. Most of the homes look abandoned, the grass growing as high as the windows. As we bank I get a closer look at the Egegik River, which spans more than a mile from one bank to the other. The water is muddy, not clear as I had envisioned.

The plane sets down on a stretch of gravel on the bank of the river, just behind the town. A lone orange wind sock stands at attention; the pilot guesses 30 miles per hour, says that is normal out here. There are no buildings at this airport, no small tin shack with the word egegik on it; there isn't even another plane in sight. Instead a van is waiting at the edge of the gravel, near the grass.

The van pulls up to the belly of the plane and we all pitch in, quickly unloading the luggage, along with the U.S. mail. Some groceries and boxes of frozen goods are transferred as well. The driver of the van is a small Native woman with a round flat face and Asian features. Her age is a mystery and she laughs loudly with the young woman from the plane, who also has a round Native face and Asian features. They are talking as if they have been having a conversation for the last two hours. I don't listen. Instead I hold my backpack close to my side, staring out the window as the van begins to move, trying to pick up any clues that will help shape my perception of this outpost. The driver heads down a single-track dirt road toward town.

"Hey, where you going?" the driver suddenly yells at no one in particular.

I say nothing. The driver looks at me in the rearview mirror. "Yeah you, I'm talking to you. Who you working for?"

"Sharon Hart," I say, blurting out the name of the stranger who called me twenty-four hours ago, asking if I wanted a job as a commercial fisherman.

"Sharon's fishing partner is Carl, my husband," says the passenger. "I'm Jannelle."

"And, she's my daughter," says the driver, pointing at the passenger.

Driving, we pass a few people walking but no one waves, their heads pitched downward as if staring at their feet. I count more four-wheel ATVs than cars, and on one ATV there are stacked several people. It's hard to say whether they are mothers with their children or older siblings with their younger siblings or maybe just friends all riding together.

Finally the van stops in front of a small shack with a caribou rack above the front door. "Sharon's house," says Jannelle, pointing at the dilapidated structure. "There was an opening today, she won't be home for a while. Carl's still on the Fiasco, halibuting."

I nod my head as if I understand.

"Get out. And shut the door," yells the driver. Stunned, I don't move.

My first instinct is to compare this place to a shantytown in the Third World. In some ways it does resemble many I've visited. But there is one clear difference. In poor villages, the world over, the local people are almost always friendly. They may not have food on the table or running water, but they welcome you in. And the poorer the place, the nicer they are. At the other end of the scale are the rich, locked behind tall gates, with twenty-four-hour security guards. But here I am confused. Egegik, by the looks of it, is poor, but the people act rich. I know within the first minutes of being here that this will be a difficult place to understand.

"Now!" the driver shouts, waiting for me to get out of the van.

Standing on the road, I look away from the driver, hoping to discourage her from speaking further to me. The passenger leans out the window, raises her eyebrows, and playfully nods her head in my direction.

"Welcome to Egegik," she says, and the van drives away, spitting sand in my face. Copyright © 2008 by Bill Carter

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Table of Contents


Prologue     XIII
Arrival     1
Egegik     6
Rules     15
Sharon Hart     27
The Flats     39
Twenty-eight Thousand Pounds     55
Fishermen Blues     62
Malibu Marty     70
Bush Radio     79
How Was Your Winter?     87
I've Been Here Before     96
Sourdough     102
The Food Chain     107
The Last Frontier     116
The Mayor     123
Too Many Fish     134
Church Hill     147
Seeing Native     159
Crime     170
Fish and Game     176
Becharof Lodge     185
Katmai     199
The Last Season     207
Sinking     215
Paddling Home     224
Acknowledgments     233
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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 8 of 7 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted November 4, 2014

    Hmph

    &Sigma&eta&iota&tau.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 20, 2013

    Hi

    Hi

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 15, 2008

    True Story

    I am not a commerical fisherman nor have I ever been to Egegik,but I have spent several summers in Alaska fishing. I believe this book is a truithful depiction of the life and people of a fishing village. Many of the people are misfits with criminal backgrounds who are attracted to the wildness of Alaska. they are sadly a lot of drug users, more and more meth is becoming the drug of choice. Bill Carter is a good writer and the book was worth reading.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 17, 2008

    Red Summer ... a portrait of a different American life

    I found Red Summer to be a fantastic novel about a subject I wouldn't have otherwise been interested in. Carter's strength is in depicting the characters he meets along the way, and their personalities seem to drip off the page. To be honest, the concept of walking around bear country freaks me out, and working 20 hour days under grueling circumstances freaks me out even more. Red Summer is able to capture such a fantastic portrait of life in Alaska that I may just be willing to risk a grisly mauling for the experience.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 17, 2008

    Bill brought to life what few have ever experienced

    I read Bill's book, 'Red Summer' and did not put it down until I finished it. I have first-hand knowledge as to how I know Bill brought the characters and way of living to life not because I was there but because Sharon, the main character, is my cousin. He captured my cousins'- Sharon, David and Ron Hart - personalities and lives just as I have known them to be. I knew my cousin Sharon chose a hard life after she and I graduated from high school. I went to college and she went fishing - this was 1979. She has been fishing the waters of Egegik to this day and I never knew just how hard that life was for her. I have never, ever heard even one complaint about it. Bill wrote of his life with Sharon as his captain, and with the folks of Egegik, in such a way that you feel as though you are right there with them all. He brings you in from the first page and you feel saddened at the end because you want to read more! Thanks Bill for writing of your experiences so descriptively that I felt I had spent wonderful, miserable, exciting, tiring, and rewarding summers with my cousins. - Barb

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 3, 2008

    'Red Summer ' by Bill Carter

    This book by Bill Carter grabs the vary essence of life in so many ways. life that is seldom found any where else but in such small fishing village's like Egegik where talk is cheap and working hard is all that matters. 'Red Summer' Gets right into the life's and minds of Fishermen. ordinary men and women working harder then most, and some times loosing it all, just to make a living. 'I am and always will be a Commercial Fishermen. I love Bristol Bay and the life its given me and my family' Thank you Bill Carter. I know you worked hard at it, and your book Shows.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 8, 2008

    Best Book I've ever read!

    I Loved this book! I was Born and raised in the Village of Egegik and return each summer for the commercial salmon run. Bill did a fantastic job describing 'The Greatest Place on Earth'.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 27, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing 1 – 8 of 7 Customer Reviews

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