In the Slick of the Cricket

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Driven offshore by too many obituaries, a newspaper reporter takes a five-day fishing trip aboard the charter fishing boat Cricket II with Captain Frank Mundus, the godfather of "Jaws." What begins as a short escape for author Russell Drumm quickly turns into a storm-tossed odyssey in which Mundus, on the eve of his retirement, relives his 40 years at sea. He recollects his ingenious methods, his weird collection of charter "Idiots," and his lasting bitterness toward Peter Benchley for never acknowledging him as the source of the "Jaws" story. "In the Slick of the Cricket" is the richer truth behind that fiction, "I hate fiction," Mundus warns the author at the start of the trip.

FROM THE CRITICS

Carol Peace Robins

A lively portrait of a tobacco-chewing, colorful and crude original. -- NY Times Book Review

Publishers Weekly

The "slick" of the title refers to the greasy trail of fish grindings, called chum, tossed into the water to attract sportfish to boats. In this case, the sportfish is shark and the boat is the Cricket II. Drumm, a senior writer for the "East Hampton Star" on Long Island, recounts the career of legendary charter captain Frank Mundus, a colorful old salt in Montauk, N.Y., who almost single-handedly elevated the shark from an unwelcome toothy interloper to the sport fisherman's primal macho passion. Mundus, who has attracted media attention and sportsmen with a constant flow of self-promotional chum, regards his clients with a finely honed disdain and is said to be the model for Quint, the shark hunter in Peter Benchley's "Jaws". Told in the framework of an extended charter trip on which Drumm sailed, the book interweaves Mundus's 40-year career with that of the entire sportfishing industry, as well as Drumm's own personal drama. Renderings of the ocean, both scientific and descriptive, are some of the best passages in a consistently well-written book. At its best, the writing compares favorably to Thomas McGuane's early nonfiction pieces on fishing. Mundus' own stories, however, often come across as a charter captain's carefully cultivated legends. He himself ultimately remains elusive. Drumm's enthusiastic good writing, however, more than outweighs the book's flaws, and readers in search of an adventurous read will relish hooking on to this muscular catch. Heavily illustrated. FYI: "In the Slick of the Cricket" won Pushcart's 16th annual 'Editor's Book Award'.

Kirkus Reviews

A superb portrait of a white-shark fishing guide—deft and sparingly, beautifully written.

You might never have laid eyes on this book save for the Pushcart Prize people, who rescued it from obscurity with their 16th annual 'Editor's Book Award' for overlooked manuscripts. You wouldn't have had the chance to be stunned by the dexterous writing, deeply impressed by the layered understanding the writer has brought to the subject. Drumm covers the waterfront beat for the East Hampton Star, which means if you want a real story, you'll spend your time in Montauk. There he came across Frank Mundus, the captain of Cricket II, a 40-year veteran of charter boats specializing in sharks. Drumm spins a wonderful tale of Mundus's fishing days: The captain radiates from the page like a force, an Urcharter captain, all canny and crude, full of stories (of sharks stuffed into phone booths for a laugh, of sharks hung from fire escapes in New York City by proud fishermen) and deeds (standing on the floating carcass of a whale and tossing cookies to circling great whites; bagging the 4,500-pounder that brought him to the attention of Peter Benchley, who fashioned him into Quint). Mundus also exudes a spooky, vaguely sinister field of energy (sacrificing a goat to a shark helped here, as did allowing a shark to be turned into a pincushion of arrows). This is not strict journalistic fare, much of the book being a highly personal, apocalyptically inclined evocation of a five-day shark trip with Mundus. But Drumm is one of those rare journalists who know all the crannies and foibles of their home patch, have done all the legwork, and appreciate the difference between exploration and exploitation.

A first-rate story of a person and place out of time; thanks Mundus, thanks Drumm, thanks Pushcart.

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING

An intelligent and original account of the last man of his kind. — Dava Sobel