Shark drunk The art of catching a large shark from a tiny rubber dinghy in a big ocean

Morten Andreas Strøksnes, 1965-

Book - 2017

In the great depths surrounding the Lofoten islands in Norway lives the infamous Greenland shark. At twenty-six feet in length and weighing more than a ton, it is truly a beast to behold. But the shark is not just known for its size alone: its meat contains a toxin that, when consumed, has been known to make people drunk and hallucinatory. Shark Drunk is the true story of two friends, the author and the eccentric artist Hugo Aasjord, as they embark on a wild pursuit of the famed creature -- from a tiny rubber boat. Together, the two men tackle existential questions, survive the world's most powerful maelstrom, and, yes, get drunk, as they attempt to understand the ocean from every possible angle, drawing on poetry, science, history, ec...ology, mythology, and their own, sometimes intoxicated, observations.

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Subjects
Genres
True adventure stories
Autobiographies
Published
New York : Alfred A. Knopf 2017.
Language
English
Norwegian
Main Author
Morten Andreas Strøksnes, 1965- (author)
Other Authors
Tiina Nunnally, 1952- (translator)
Edition
First American edition
Physical Description
307 pages : map ; 20 cm
Bibliography
Includes bibliographical references (pages 295-307).
ISBN
9780451493484
Contents unavailable.
Review by New York Times Review

On "Happy Days," the Fonz infamously jumped over a shark. Tonight, as part of the first night of the Discovery Channel's annual Shark Week, Michael Phelps will race one. (Fear not for our Olympic hero. He and the shark will not be in adjacent lanes.) As a literary companion to this year's Discovery offerings, you might pick up Morten Stroksnes's "Shark Drunk," which has arguably the year's best subtitle: "The Art of Catching a Large Shark From a Tiny Rubber Dinghy in a Big Ocean." Stroksnes's wry tone continues in the book's opening sentences. "Three and a half billion years," he writes. "That's the time it took from the moment the first primitive life-forms developed in the sea until Hugo Aasjord phoned me one Saturday night in July." Stroksnes and his friend sailed off the shore of Norway in search of a Greenland shark, which can grow up to 24 feet long and weigh up to 2,500 pounds, making it the world's largest flesh-eating shark. (For bait, the pair bring along the carcass of a Scottish Highland bull.) While circling his central subject, Stroksnes follows his capacious curiosity, touching on subjects from Rimbaud to the fauna and stones of Norway to the possibility of life on other planets. More firmly water-based observations include a lyrical paragraph about what happens after a whale dies and floats to the bottom of the ocean. The end result reads a bit as if Geoff Dyer had written "Jaws." 'Its everything really. I think Whitman would have understood it. Blake would have figured it out. Its the pure wild product of America going crazy, right?' - SCOTT MCLANAHAN, AUTHOR OF "THE SARAH BOOK," TALKING ABOUT WALMART IN AN INTERVIEW WITH ELECTRIC LITERATURE

Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [July 30, 2017]
Review by Booklist Review

Ostensibly about an adventure to catch a Greenland shark off Norway's Lofoten Islands, Shark Drunk is in truth a beguiling mash-up of road trip (albeit partly on the water), buddy story, philosophical meditation on economic development in remote locations, and study of a fish. The author, a Norwegian historian and journalist, accomplishes all this while tossing out asides about Rimbaud, Thoreau, cartographer Olaus Magnus, polar explorer Fridtjof Nansen, the lighthouse-building legacy of Robert Louis Stevenson's family, and (to no one's surprise) Herman Melville. With his artist friend Hugo, who has fishing experience, Strøksnes was determined to catch the fascinating and rather mysterious Greenland shark because few people have. But this is one-hundred percent a journey is the destination sort of book, in which catching the shark is not nearly as much fun as trying to catch the shark. On the slenderest of literary ideas, the author manages to be equally funny, heartfelt, and insightful on dozens of topics. Utterly unique (quirky seems too trite), Shark Drunk is a gem.--Mondor, Colleen Copyright 2017 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

An epic fishing trip reels in fascinating sea lore in this briny eco-adventure. Norwegian journalist Stroksnes recounts his sporadic, year-long quest with artist pal Hugo Aasjord to catch a Greenland shark, a huge creature. Many specimens are blind from eye-worms and spectacularly long-lived (one clocked in at 400 years old). Their flesh contains a toxin that renders those who eat it "shark drunk": incoherent, hallucinatory, unsteady on their feet. Baiting their hooks with shark delicacies such as rotting beef and cod liver, Stroksnes and Aasjord pass long days with nary a strike while they weather storms and view stunning scenery in Norway's Lofoten archipelago, vividly rendered by Stroksnes's prose in Nunnally's vigorous translation. ("The sun isn't visible to us, but it casts its light around and in between the rain... like gigantic spotlights slowly sweeping across the surface of the water.") Meanwhile, the author ponders everything related to the ocean, including bizarre luminous squids of the inky depths, frolicking orca pods and sperm whales, ancient disquisitions on maritime monsters, flinty islanders who live off the sea, and the close, testy relationships between fishing friends. Stroksnes's erudition, salty humor, and unfussy prose yield a fresh, engrossing natural history. (June) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Is it a good idea to chum water with various rotting animal carcasses in an attempt to catch a massive Greenland shark using a single manual fishing line? Stroksnes and his friend Hugo set out on a rigid-inflatable boat from Skrova, an island in Northern Norway, to find out. Waiting for ideal conditions for their perilous adventure allows for Moby-Dick-esque reflections of sharks, whaling, and the region's natural and cultural history, though in much more digestible segments and relatable language. Interspersed throughout are vibrant, suspenseful, and at times nearly unbelievable, anecdotes from Hugo's long tenure with the sea. The result is a well-rounded narrative of the region and its vital relationship to the water, from time immemorial to present day. The authors also reflect on the changes of our knowledge of the deep unknown and the impact we have on it-and it on us. -VERDICT This book will be of interest to those drawn to the sea, exploration, and adventure.-Zebulin Evelhoch, Central Washington Univ. Lib., Ellensburg, WA © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

Accomplished Norwegian historian, journalist, and photographer Strksnes invites readers into the fantastical ocean environment of his quest to capture a Greenland shark.More than just a chronicle of two men (the author and his artist friend, Hugo Aasjord) discussing their surroundings as they drift along off the coast of Norway, the narrative follows the pair's lofty goal of snaring one of the world's largest beasts from their small rubber boat. A few of the strange qualities of their prey include its ability to dive to more than 4,000 feet, "sawblade teeth" and "suctioning lips that glue' larger prey to its mouth while chewing," and poisonous flesh that smells like urine. They can also live to be 400 years old and weigh more than a ton. During their endeavor, whether on the ocean or sidelined on the rugged land due to inhospitable weather, Strksnes and Aasjord tackled a variety of existential questions while contemplating the magnificent, complex mysteries of the ocean. Their conversations range over subjects as diverse as mythology, poetry, history, literature, and science, all interspersed with their observations. In the hands of a less skilled storyteller, readers may have felt burdened by the amount of information, but Strksnes handles it well. Following the philosophical proclamation that "life cannot exist without death, and the cycle of life is what keeps the planet in harmony," the author explains how the men planned to use the decomposed carcass of a Scottish bull as bait, after which he provides an enlightening vignette on the history of that hardy breed. While tracking down the rotting carcass, the author also describes the surrounding countryside, including the ancient sacrificial altars he encountered. Whether the author is opining on mass extinctions, the importance of plankton, the history of lighthouses, or the epicurean treat of boiled cod tongues, readers will happily devour this smorgasbord of delights. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Wanted: one medium-sized Greenland shark, ten to fifteen feet in length and weighing about thirteen hundred pounds. Latin name: Somniosus microcephalus . Blunt, rounded snout, cigar-shaped body, relatively small fins. Gives birth to live offspring. Lives in the North Atlantic and even swims under the floating ice cap at the North Pole. Prefers temperatures close to freezing but can also tolerate warmer water. Can dive to a depth of four thousand feet or more. The teeth in its lower jaw are as small as a saw blade's. The teeth in the upper jaw are equally sharp but significantly bigger, and are used to bore into the prey while the lower teeth saw their way through. In addition to saw-blade teeth, it has, like a few other types of shark, suctioning lips that "glue" larger prey to its mouth while chewing. And every mating act is violent. On the bright side, the Greenland shark does not have sex until it's about 150 years old. Scientists who have examined the stomach contents of Greenland sharks have encountered many surprises. How is it possible that in Greenland, Fridtjof Nansen (1861- 1930), the famed Norwegian scientist, explorer, and politician, opened the stomach of a shark he'd caught and found a whole seal, eight large cods, a ling four feet long, a big halibut head, and several chunks of whale blubber? Nansen claimed, by the way, that the shark was able to live for several days even after this "huge, ugly animal" had been cut open and placed on ice. The eye parasite Ommatokoita elongata , which is about two inches long, slowly devours the cornea of the Greenland shark, until it goes blind. In the folds of its belly the shark also has other parasites in the form of little yellow crabs ( Aega arctica ). Old shark fishermen have recounted how the parasites would fall off by the hundreds when the shark was hoisted aboard. The Greenland shark can be used for more than just making sandpaper and nitroglycerin. Its flesh is poisonous, smells like urine, and can serve as a potent drug. The Inuit used to feed the meat to their dogs, if nothing else was available. But the dogs would get extremely intoxicated and might even end up paralyzed for days. During World War I, there was a shortage of food in many places in the north, and people couldn't be choosy. There was more than enough meat from Greenland sharks. But if people ate the meat when it was fresh, or neglected to treat it in the proper way, they could get "shark drunk," because the flesh contains the nerve gas trimethylamine oxide. The resultant inebriated state is supposedly similar to taking in an extreme amount of alcohol or hallucinogenic drugs. Shark drunk people speak incoherently, see visions, stagger, and act very crazy. When they finally fall asleep, it's nearly impossible to wake them up. To avoid these side effects, you need to cut the main artery of a Greenland shark immediately, so that the blood drains out. Then the meat can be dried or boiled in water, which has to be changed several times. In Iceland, the shark (called hákarl ) is considered a delicacy, but there everyone is careful to prepare the meat properly. To make the poisons disappear requires repeated boiling, drying, or even burying the meat until it ferments. It should be no surprise that people living in northern Norway developed a healthy skepticism when it comes to the meat of the Greenland shark. The reason they even bothered to catch it was because the liver is extremely rich in oil. In the 1950s, Norway was the leader in commercial fishing for the Greenlandshark, but by the early 1960s, demand was already fading. Only now is it making a small comeback. Our boat is gently bobbing in the sunshine in Vestfjorden. Yesterday the sea glittered and crackled with light. Today it has a steady, calm glow. The ocean has found its lowest resting pulse, as it does only after many days of good weather in the summertime. It's also a neap tide, which means the difference between high and low tide is unusually small. The gravitational force of the moon and the sun pull the sea in opposite directions, canceling each other out to a certain extent, like when two people arm-wrestle and neither has an advantage. Our only task is to wait and keep an eye on the floats. Maybe it's because we're drifting in Vestfjorden--where the currents function just fine on their own even when there's no wind--that Hugo happens to think of a story about one time when he and his brother were out in their fishing smack. The boat, called the Plingen , was a small carvel-built vessel made in Namdalen in the 1950s. The fishing smack was waterlogged and sat low in the sea. In bad weather they had to pump out the water frantically by hand. One ice-cold day during the Lofoten fishing season in 1984, the two brothers went out during a squall. The motor wouldn't start, but another boat in the fishing grounds saw they were in trouble and towed them back to Svolvær. That reminds Hugo of a similar situation. They were on board the Helnessund heading out of Svolvær after picking upa cargo of fresh shrimp that had been caught farther north in Finnmark. When a storm blew in, the boat quickly ran into trouble. The refrigeration unit failed and the cargo shifted. The freighter ended up drifting in the middle of Vestfjorden. By using countless buckets of seawater, they were finally able to cool down the engine enough to make it over to Skrova. Hugo often makes these sorts of associative leaps. When one story starts getting a bit worn out, it taps the next one on the back and sends it off, in a relay race that can go on and on. The stories usually move further and further away from the starting point. Sometimes I get confused and wonder what Hugo's stories have to do with anything at all. But something about what he has already told me makes Hugo think of Måløya, one of the small islands on the seawardside of Steigen. That's the location of a tiny, abandoned community that Hugo was curious about. Together with his brother, he dropped anchor and left the fishing smack to row a skiff, or reksa , as Hugo always calls these small wooden rowboats, toward a gently sloping sandy beach. But they misjudged the waves, and the little reksa got tossed around. Both brothers ended up in the icy water. They went ashore but didn't stay long because it was late winter, and the air and water were freezing. On their way back to the fishing smack, the reksa again filled up with water because a small crack in the bottom was now much bigger after the rowboat had been tossed by the waves. Just before the reksa sank, the brothers managed to grab hold of the fishing smack, not by the gunwale, but farther down. They clung to the small gap along the side of the deck where the water runs out. It was impossible for them to haul themselves on board, exhausted as they were, and with their soaked clothing heavy with seawater. After hanging there for a while, side by side like in some cartoon, they both realized how absurd the situation was and burst out laughing. But their strength was about to give out, and they needed to focus all their efforts on one last-ditch attempt to save themselves. So Hugo became a human ladder for his brother to climb up and clamber on board. If Hugo had lost his grip before his brother made it on deck, it's unlikely either of them would be here to tell the story. But Hugo seems to think the main point of the whole tale is that a person doesn't actually get all that cold by floating in Vestfjordenfor nearly half an hour in March. "We stayed out for the rest of the day, and without changing our clothes. Although, I have to admit that behind our ears ,and at the back of our necks--that's where the cold settled." Sometimes I wonder whether my friend is actually part seamammal. Translated by Tiina Nunnally. Excerpted from Shark Drunk: The Art of Catching a Large Shark from a Tiny Rubber Dinghy in a Big Ocean by Morten A. Strøksnes All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.