Text and photos by Mary L. Peachin
September, 2014 Vol. 18, No. 12
Danger for grizzlies doesn’t come from the water’s edge. Big Mama and her yearling were approximately ten feet from our zodiac. They had just ventured out of winter hibernation, and they were ravenously chewing tall stalks of sedge.
After a thirty minute flight from Prince Rupert, the Beaver float plane touched down in Khutzeymateen’s inlet, the largest grizzly bear Sanctuary in North America. Before we had finished unpacking our cameras, a blonde colored bear sauntered along the shore. Later in the summer, when they start feeding on spawning salmon, grizzlies’ coats darken in color.
Jumping into the Sunchaser’s zodiac, we noticed that the young male’s back was covered with bite scars. “She’s one of Lucy’s, perhaps the Khutzeymateen’s most distinguished matriarch, offspring.”
Expert Dan Wakeman’s twenty plus years of observing British Columbia’s Khutzeymateen grizzlies yearly life cycles has provided him the opportunity to visually bond and recognize many of its grizzlies.
It’s early June and still mating season. Sows with newborn cubs would not venture out until the males depart. “This younger male is on the prowl to mate with a female.” Not being the Valley’s dominate male, “Barney is the stud,” this male will have to “get lucky” to find an eligible female, one without a cub, who is also in estrus. He might kill her cub, but he won’t mate until her hormones are right. His instinct is to sire a cub.
“I’ve known these bears since they were cubs.” Dan’s summers in the Khutzeymateen has been a “labor of love.” Life on the 40 foot sloop, Sunchaser, typically moored in Cedar Creek, is planned around the tide, the time when water is deep enough to navigate up the estuary. High tide affords the best opportunity to view bears
While we waiting for the evening tide, Dungeness crab, pulled from the nearby trap, is harvested and boiled for dinner. Between the group’s food allergies and taste preferences, only three of us enjoy the crustacean delicacy. The others eat frozen then grilled chicken breasts, mash potatoes, and vegetables.
High tide arrives around twilight. Dan shepherds the five of us into the zodiac to head up Khutzeymateen estuary. In about an hour, we observe a total of nine bears. One large male, a sizable scar on its back, stomps on a dead log and hisses. “He’s warning us to back off.” When the annoyed bear did it again, Dan throttled the boat into reverse commenting, “If we’d been on land, we’d be dead. This is his Sanctuary.”
There was more: a cub swimming across the estuary, another running through the sedge, and a large grungy male lumbering out of the woods. Dan surmised that he was coming to mate with the female wandering on the beach. Seeing us, he growled angrily and lopped back into the trees. We continued to hear him growling in the forest. Obviously we had interfered with a romantic interlude.
During the Northern British Columbia summer, sun doesn’t set until after ten, but by 9 pm we were ready to crawl into our bunks. Rain pounded the bow skylight over our twin bunks.
We awoke to a day of viewing “grizzles in the mist.” By noon time, we had observed a total of eleven different bears: a mating pair, several shy “runners,” a few yearlings, sub adults, cubs, and both male and female adults.
The five of us cozy in the sloop included Calgarians Roberta Fergstad and Chris Martin, University of San Diego tennis coach Sherri Stephens, and retired University of Arizona Deputy Athletic Director Rocky LaRose. All of us were serious about our photography.
Weather interfered with the rest of the day’s viewing plans. A torrential afternoon rain remained steady throughout the night. Layering in long underwear and fleece, we spent the night tucked under blankets and quilts. The temperature was a mild 59, but the dampness of the rainforest was penetrating.
Our third and final day was equally productive. High tide allowed us to explore further up the estuary. Blue lupine were in bloom, several odiferous, but beautiful, chocolate lilies were budding. Bald and Golden eagles ruffled wet feathers. The Khutzeymateen River, which channels into the estuary, was flowing swiftly. Again we saw a variety of bears and cubs. We were alone in one of the world’s most spectacular settings…in the rain. Rapidly clicking shutters, we were enjoying an intimate experience looking eye to eye with more than twenty different grizzlies.
This season, Barney, the Khutzeymateen’s dominant male had not yet been sighted. That night, we motored up the Khutzeymateen Inlet to briefly search for him. Unsuccessful, we were rewarded with the sighting of a female with two cubs feeding on sedge.
The final night Dan prepared barbecued steak and potatoes. Boarding the zodiac for a short evening tour, we returned for a closer view of the sow with two cubs. On our return, we spotted a dark colored head in the grass near the forest. It was Barney! He was too distant to photograph, but close enough to wish us farewell.
Drifting off to sleep, the distinctive call of the loon reminded us that this spectacular place was in British Columbia, Canada, a place where we had just enjoyed intimate encounters with grizzlies.
Mary L. Peachin is an adventure travel writer who specializes in scuba diving and sport fishing articles. Her books, in both print and digital format, include Close Underwater Encounters: What you Should Know about Sharks, Caribbean Scuba Diving, and Caribbean Sport Fishing. Check her out at test.peachin.com or email [email protected]