Entries RSSI have to remind myself that I’ve just seen a polar bear in the wild. Not on the Discovery Channel from my Lazy Boy or at the Denver Zoo in 90 degree heat or at Sea World in Texas. As bears go, he wasn’t a big bear. Medium size. Swimming. Diving. Huffing in big, disgruntled bursts.
The best months for polar bear viewing in Churchill are October and November. The land starts to freeze up. The seals congregate. And, the summer fasting for bears is over. They feast. Winter tourists use tundra buggies to get up close. And it’s cold. Way cold. In the summer, you’ll get an occasional bear sighting in town, but otherwise, you’ll need to take a boat across the Hudson Bay to find them.
At breakfast, I ask a local if I can run through town. He points, “Run that way, otherwise you’re likely to bump into one. They’re starting to come back now.” Some part of me is tempted to go the opposite direction, but yes, I’m still smarter than that. I say, “Don’t polar bears usually avoid people though. When was the last time anyone in Churchill was attacked?” Stone faced, he says, “Two years ago. But, it was 1am and the guy was drunk and went out with his .22 and tried to wrestle with the bear. He’s lucky he only lost an arm.” He chuckles. “He used to be a two-fisted drinker. Now he’s just one.” The town bears have names. Bruno and Scarface. The last bear attack fatality here was in 1983. As I’ll find out in my boat later, they are more frightened of us than we are of them.
I start out the day in shorts and a tank top. It’s hot. Sweaty. I lather myself in sunscreen and bug spray, but we’ve missed most of bug season with the Bull mosquitoes. We hop on a motor boat. Wally, who owns the Lazy Bear Lodge with his wife Dawn, captains it. We’re wind-whipped and bounced around. One hour or so to get to Seal River. Belugas on the way. We search for about an hour around smooth rocks where the bears are known to lie around. No luck. I think we’re giving up when Wally spots one. Standing up in the water about a mile away. Wally has “guide eyes”. A reminder to me never to discount the value of a good guide. Wally speeds us in the direction of the bear. But, we lose him. We spot him again behind us about half a mile away. We keep our eyes on him. Roar back the other direction. We get him. There is no land any where close.
We follow the polar bear in our boat, taking photos as he swims in front and along side us. I’m on my knees on the deck of the boat to keep my balance and get low to the water. More than a few times, the bear was close enough to reach an arm over and pet, if I had tried, which I didn’t. The polar bear was definitely afraid of us, and a bit pissed off. He wanted to hunt some beluga whale calves. And, we were interrupting. More than a few times, we asked Wally if we were stressing out the bear. He seemed labored. And with no land in sight, well, we worried. Wally assured us that the bear could swim for 60 miles. Still, we started to herd him back toward shore, using the boat like a cattle dog on a ranch. The bear had other ideas. Turns out bears don’t want to be herded. So we left him to do whatever bears do.
More later. Exhausted today. Who knew shooting shots on your knees from a moving boat could be such a great workout.
“On the Polar Bear boat”
“Meet Mr. Polar Bear”
“Bye for now!”
