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    Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith
    Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith
    Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith

    By Bert Schultz

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    About this ebook

    Bert Schultz authors his second book of Alaskan adventures, this time about fifty years of hunting and fishing experiences. Arriving in Alaska at age twenty-five, he quickly found it necessary to provide food for his family from the wilds of Alaska.

    Imagine fishing the Kenai Peninsulas Russian River in the late 1950s and never seeing another fisherman. Or on the first day of moose season seeing five legal moose within a quarter mile of your Caribou Hills campsite.

    Having little experience fishing or hunting, he in faith believed God would provide. And he saw God work the impossible and had many exciting adventures along the way.

    These true stories will keep you reading until you finish ALASKAN ADVENTURESHUNTING AND FISHING BY FAITH.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWestBow Press
    Release dateNov 6, 2014
    ISBN9781490856087
    Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith
    Author

    Bert Schultz

    Bert Schultz grew up in Pennsylvania and graduated from Cairn University and Wheaton College. Ordained as a minister in 1956, he began missionary service in Alaska with his wife, Donna, and young son. They authored Miracle at Solid Rock An Alaskan Adventure, the story of youth ministry, building and developing Solid Rock Bible Camp.

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      Book preview

      Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith - Bert Schultz

      cover.jpg

      Copyright © 2014 Bert Schultz .

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      WestBow Press

      A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.westbowpress.com

      1 (866) 928-1240

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      ISBN: 978-1-4908-5609-4 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4908-5610-0 (hc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4908-5608-7 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2014918273

      WestBow Press rev. date: 11/05/2014

      CONTENTS

      Prologue

      Chapter 1 Kodiak Scare

      Chapter 2 Hunting Moose

      Chapter 3 Homer Trip

      Chapter 4 Bear Tales

      Chapter 5 A Lost Moose

      Chapter 6 A Bear And Earthquake

      Chapter 7 A Trip To Paxson

      Chapter 8 Hunting In Deep Freeze Temperatures

      Chapter 9 Backyard Encounter

      Chapter 10 Blowing My Own Horn

      Chapter 11 Homesteading

      Chapter 12 Lost And Found Fishing Rod

      Chapter 13 Caribou On Fourth Avenue

      Chapter 14 The Earthquake

      Chapter 15 Swamp Trail

      Chapter 16 A Tumbling Horse

      Chapter 17 Fuller Lake Hunting Trip

      Chapter 18 Moose Twins

      Chapter 19 Returning The Favor

      Chapter 20 Camp Black Bear

      Chapter 21 The Last Moose

      Chapter 22 Down The Kenai River In A Canoe

      Chapter 23 A Trophy Rainbow

      Chapter 24 Hairy Fish

      Chapter 25 Halibut Trip To Homer

      Chapter 26 Once In A Lifetime Experience

      Chapter 27 Miraculous Catch Of Fish

      Thank you to the many friends and family who contributed to the writing of Alaskan Adventures—Hunting and Fishing by Faith. I began writing this book many years ago, but in 2004 a house fire destroyed the computer, manuscript, and photographs. To further complicate matters, serious medical problems hindered the completion.

      I express my heartfelt thanks:

      To my wife, Donna Schultz, for countless hours typing, editing, and helping prepare this manuscript.

      To Joyce Baker Porte for editorial assistance and encouragement.

      To Valerie Porte McKenney for editorial and formatting assistance.

      To Annette Segura Schultz for retyping the manuscript from a battered, hand-corrected, and incomplete copy.

      To Steve Schultz for resolving computer problems.

      To Bob Hain for his pencil drawings of Old Harbor and hunting cabin.

      To Fred Turcott for the Alaska sunset cover photo, other scenery and moose photos.

      To my friends who provided old snapshots: Tim Hiner, Floyd McElveen, and Paul Weimer.

      To Ben Fisher for the cover photo of Fuller Lake and brown bear photo.

      I

      dedicate this book to my wife, Donna, my best friend and companion for over sixty years.

      PROLOGUE

      On Halloween Eve 1931, in Altoona, Pennsylvania, I came into this world with a loud cry, and my mother called me her spook baby. My real name was Bertis Alton, named after my mother’s two brothers. As I grew older I was called Sonny, and not because I was extremely bright. When I became a teenager, I convinced everyone to call me Bert.

      At birth I joined two sisters, Doris and Joanne, ages seven and three. My mother was an exceptional wife and mother. She had the gift of hospitality. When our church had a guest missionary or preacher, an invitation was extended to come to our home for dinner. God used these contacts to develop a desire for Christian ministry in our lives. When in third grade, I began lessons on the alto saxophone. Mom was musical and played piano. She directed my practice sessions and beat out the time on the dining room table. Her wonderful sense of humor was evident when she declared that she could have played the saxophone if she would have just learned to blow it. My ability to play and sing has been an asset to my ministry in churches and at Solid Rock Bible Camp.

      My father, Otto, was full-blooded German, a good disciplinarian, and a hard worker. He worked for the Pennsylvania Railroad a couple of years as a plumber but felt it had no future with its periodic layoffs. He then managed a grocery store for a man who owned two.

      His mother died when he was only three. His father and older sisters raised him till he was sixteen, when he left home for work. It was the middle of the Great Depression, and Altoona, being a railroad town, had its difficulties. Fortunately Dad always worked, even though the pay was low. He later went to work for C.W. Shaffer and Co., a local grocery store chain in Blair County.

      We were raised in a Methodist church, and Dad was the superintendent of the Sunday school for all my growing up years. The Psalmist said in Psalm 139:13, 14 NIV For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. The Lord knew me before I was born and laid His hand upon me.

      When I was ten years old, the second World War began, with all its sorrow and death. I remember hearing over KDKA in Pittsburgh that the United States had been attacked at Pearl Harbor, and President Roosevelt declared war on Japan.

      The following summer an evangelist was invited to our church. Mr. Bonnie and his wife arrived for a week of meetings. Each day after school we met for a children’s meeting. Jerry, a dummy, was the attraction. Mr. Bonnie, an excellent ventriloquist, said if we attended all week, Jerry the dummy would do something none of us kids could do. Yeah, right! I knew there were lots of things I could do that Jerry couldn’t. Interest was high, and I just had to see this. So I went to all the meetings.

      On Friday Jerry turned his head in a complete circle. I also tried. Mr. Bonnie said there was something we children could do that Jerry couldn’t, and I listened carefully. We could have a relationship with God through His Son, Jesus Christ. Receiving Him as our Savior, we would have eternal life and go to heaven someday. Jerry could not do that. Mr. Bonnie went on to explain the Gospel fully, and I received the Lord Jesus as my Savior.

      At the evening meetings the gospel was preached, and Mrs. Bonnie played the piano and sang beautifully. By the end of the week, about half of the congregation responded to the invitation and went forward to the altar, knelt, and received the Lord as Savior, including our pastor.

      Within two weeks, those who rejected Christ wanted us out of the church. So we left and started the First Evangelical Methodist Church. We met in the Jaffa Mosque for a couple of years before we built our own church. The Lord was hunting for those who would believe in Him. He used Mr. Bonnie to fish for us through the Word of God. We were caught by the love of Christ.

      A few years after the church was built, the congregation purchased an old farm outside Williamsburg, Pennsylvania, for a Bible camp. It was named Camp Manahath. I was now a young teen, and I looked forward to camp every summer. I worked on work crew. Once, when sweeping the dining hall, I hit the table leg with the broom and over went the table, and all the bowls of spaghetti slid to the floor. The cook ordered me out of the kitchen once and for all.

      Our counselor was a young man about twenty. He was exhausted as the week progressed. Friday night he fell asleep early. We climbed out the upstairs window, slid down the porch post, and drove off to the Blue Hole. The older boys drove us.

      The Blue Hole was an open pit ore mine. Springs gushing cool, blue water filled it suddenly. It was abandoned quickly, leaving behind equipment. It was deep and dangerous but refreshing and beautiful under the full moon. After a couple of hours we returned quietly to our bunks.

      The camp wasn’t much for facilities with only one house for a dorm, dining hall, kitchen, and a barn used for meetings. The milk shed became the snack shop. There was one horse to ride, and one canoe to paddle in the smelly, paper mill–polluted stream. In the meetings we were taught the Bible and learned about missions. We enjoyed craft classes and great campfire services. Just being away from the city, out in the country, was great for all of us.

      The summer of my senior year, Reverend Burtner spoke for our teen camp. He directed Mount Lu San Bible Camp near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, the state capital.

      At our campfire service he spoke from Romans 6 and Romans 12 KJV and his topic was about counting ourselves dead to sin but alive unto Jesus Christ.

      There was a family graveyard on the farm. Pastor Burtner said, If we were to dig up one of those graves, we would only find bones. If you tried to talk to them, of course, you would get no answer. They are dead and give no response. We are to consider ourselves dead to the world and alive unto Jesus Christ. We are not to respond to the world and its allurement but only to Jesus Christ. He wants to direct our lives.

      Romans 12:1–2 KJV: Present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

      At this point in life I didn’t know what to do with my life. My dad

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