He's one of about 1,500 independent, commercial fishermen that have given Kodiak its radiance of individualism. Few of them natives of the island, fishermen like Nault arrived here in the 1970s and 1980s convinced that unbridled work meant unbridled success. But by quotas, regulations, hyper-competition, and also by an American palate that won't eat too much fish and the collapse of the fisheries' best export market now that Asia is in an economic depression. We are going towards the corporate mentality. The government is growing by leaps and bounds.
Good management can keep fish harvesting at sustainable levels.
But even governments are battling each other. The day I left the island I took a drive in the country on one of Kodiak's two roads. The pavement ends after a few miles, and a few miles after that a sign pops up warning of the absence of warning signs ahead. Real wilderness, you think. A salmon spawning marsh here, a buffalo herd there, a dirt road of switchbacks and precipices and hang-outs for the island's 3,000 bears.