In search of Timothy Treadwell (day 4)

My adventure in bear country was coming to a close, but I had one final low tide to hike the tidal flats and stroll the sedge grass meadows. I skipped breakfast... who needed food when there were such amazing animals nearby to watch. Plus I figured that I could eat some lunch on the beach after while waiting for my float plane to come, which was scheduled for about 1-2pm.

I started the morning by ducking around the corner and checking out a raven's nest (apparently very rare) that Kent had told me about. As a wildlife photographer--you should have seen this guy's camera--he recommended getting out there between 7am and 10am to catch the morning light. I missed the figurative boat and by 8 the light was too far past and with the crazy shadows that the overhanging alders were casting, my pictures sucked. But it was still cool to see baby ravens.

I setting off down the beach for one last bonding with the bears and there were numerous ones out on the tidal flats wandering about and (presumably) digging clams. I managed to spot at least one who was getting down with the clams, but I have it a wide berth to do it's thing. Taking a different tack was the skiff of full of photographers that plopped themselves right down next to some other clamming bears farther down the beach.

They seemed to be having some success with the bears staying chill around them, but I was out to find the mom and cubs. Two days earlier, Chris Morgan had described her to me as "very sweet" and I had caught a glimpse of them while the film crew was working, but I wanted to see her for a little longer. It seemed that she liked to hang out down around the Middle Creek so I proceeded down that way.

However, as I started to get toward the end of the beach and the beginning of the creek, a pretty sizable, very fit athletic looking bear, with a darker brown coat came walking around the corner. It was pretty close, but on the other side of the creek toward the tidal flats. And walking across my path, parallel to me... I quietly took a seat on a log and waited for it to pass.

But the bear's path took a sudden change of course. It turned approximately 60 degrees, towards a creek crossing and directly towards me! Since I was shoreward and upwind from the bear, I was pretty certain that it couldn't smell me, but maybe it was able to see me? I wasn't sure, so from my experience of the past few days I decided that it deserved some audible information. I softly called out, "Heeeeey, bear," just to let it know that I was there. I then wished desperately that I had kept my camera raised, because it's reaction was priceless. The bear---mind you probably 1000-1200 pounds of pure muscle---literally jumped up into the air (which, being up to its waist in water, made it all that much more of a spectacle) and did a complete 180 degree turn and quickly walked the other way. I guess he/she wasn't in a very social mood and didn't want to be around humans. I could respect (and relate to) that, so I continued down the beach and rounded the corner into the creek valley.

After rounding the bend, I hopped up on a drift log and peeked over the shore's rim to look into the meadows for the the mom (at approximately the same place that we had seen her two evenings ago with the film crew). I was in luck! She was there with her cubs on the other side of the creek, probably fifty or so meters away.

I walked over the rim and up to the edge of the tall grasses to watch them from afar. Unfortunately I saw a potential train wreck approaching. Another set day-tripping photographers (there seemed to be a lot of them) was walking along the creek, seemingly unaware of the momma and cubs directly in their path. Even though Chris Morgan had described her as "sweet", I was having trouble overriding my lasting impression of a mom with cubs being the most dangerous bear in existence. I sat down and waited for the chaos to strike.

Fortunately, the sow proved to be as relaxed and chill as she had been described to be. She clearly heard the photographers coming, and relaxingly led her cubs down into the creek away from them (albeit towards me). I took a seat on a log and waited for her to clear. Unfortunately the other group had chased her into a spot (essentially a ditch) where I couldn't see her at all and they were getting fantastic shots and views. Not fair! After a little bit of waiting in (essentially) the dark, I took a couple peeks and saw her start to move away towards another meadow. Then the photography group got up, crossed the creek towards me and started to move off into the grass to sort of cut her off. Clearly, their guide had done this before. I tagged along (safety in numbers... especially when cubs are around) and took a seat next to them, and eventually the mom led her cubs pretty much right up to us.

I sat there watching the cubs play and the whole family graze for nearly an hour. They were so amazingly cute. And so relaxed, too. Mom would look up at us every once in a while, but she could clearly tell that we meant no harm (even though she did keep her cubs close to her). They just scampered along, occasionally wrestled, munched on grass, and would roll around on the ground very playfully. Apparently, that play behavior is training for the powerful fighting that bears participate in when they grow older (and huger) and are competing for food and sexual partners. "Cute" behavior turns into "terrifying" in just a few years... but from what I witnessed over the weekend, because bears can be so antisocial, the stereotypical overly-aggro bear behavior that we see in the movies or imagine--while certainly spectacular--is very much the exception to the rule. Bears avoid each other (and humans) and maintain a very rigid social hierarchy in order to preserve the peace. Aggression generally only happens when there are challenges to the structure such as adolescents becoming more dominant or old-timers being over-thrown.

After about an hour of watching mom and the cubs, I realized that I needed to be heading back to camp to tear down my tent and pack up my pack. My ride (float plane) would be picking me up soon and I should be considerately ready and on the beach when he arrived. I excused myself from the group and circled away from the bears, picking up a bear highway that lead through the meadows back to camp. After a quick pack up, wishing the film crew good luck I headed out to the beach. No sooner had a tossed my pack down on a drift log did I hear the whine of a plane overhead. It had floats for landing gear (with all the many planes that I saw that week, all of them where wheeled planes that landed on the beach) so it seemed to be Phil from Andrews Air. When the plane pulled up to the edge of the tidal flat, I could see Phil's pony tail bobbing behind him. It was time to leave. I pulled off my boots and socks again, rolled up my pants and made the wade through icy cold water back to the plane. This time it was empty; just Phil myself and my gear (apparently he had dropped some people off in a wilderness lodge in Kukak Bay). I climbed in and we flew off, headed back to Kodiak. What a fantastic weekend.