Cruising the Great Bear Rainforest by Gill Murphy

Gill Murphy travelled on our 'Spirit Bears, Grizzlies & Humpbacks - Cruising the Great Bear Rainforest' tour and submitted this entry to our writing competition.

Spirit Bear by Paul Marshall

Watching Spirit Bears, Western Canada

Even from a distance the ‘Big House’ at Klemtu is impressive, and inside it’s quiet and atmospheric as an old church; the vaulted space and central hearth framed by monumental arched wooden columns vibrantly alive with bird and animal carvings of stunning beauty and complexity. Ambling around the village I notice that similar carvings adorn every Kitasoo/Xai’xais household totem pole: outward expressions of a fundamental empathy, reverence and respect for the creatures that are their nearest neighbours in this wild and unforgiving landscape.

Memories of the last few days splinter and reform into a series of vivid images:

Leaving Bella Bella under full and glorious sail.

Gliding along a channel deeper than the North Sea. Impenetrable swathes of forest spike the sky on either side, bisected only by the occasional thunderous torrent slashing down a sheer cliff face.

Two spidery russet pictographs hugging silver-grey contours of rock beneath an overhang.

A big male grizzly foraging along a narrow strip of foreshore. It’s a peaceful early morning scene until his muzzle snaps up to interrogate the wind and all that muscled bulk locks down into full alert mode. What elusive scent could worry a bear? A solitary grey-brown shadow slips into view and a rising howl, swiftly chorused, breaks the silence. Fine hairs stir at the back of my neck and a DNA-deep quiver of unease shimmies down my spine, mocking a few centuries worth of urban smugness. On an adjacent steep scree slope more shapes flicker in and out of the trees then lope down to join their pack mate in a stand-off with the solid and unmoving bear – a few tense minutes pass before the alpha wolf flags his tail dismissively and they melt away. Hours later we’re still recalling our luck in hushed, excited tones.

Hiking through brutal, heroic scenes of survival, death and renewal. Legions of prime chum salmon, inexorably drawn by instinct and need to the river of their birth, lie strewn along muddy banks or shrouded in rank meadow grass. Stripped back to pale, lifeless flesh their blind, rotting corpses emit a pungent sickly-sweet odour that clings to the surrounding air with a poignant tenacity. In rocky shallows some are still finning hopefully or, mission accomplished, simply waiting to die. No bears but roaming gangs of raucous gulls are bickering over their leavings. Wisps of cloud hang low in the trees and a steady drizzle sets in as we quietly return to the Zodiacs.

Cosy evenings in the galley – wonderful food, warm laughter and a crew of talented musicians.

Venturing out in a single kayak. Against a backdrop of snow-coned mountains a weak autumnal sun is oozing golden-maple rays across a wide green valley. The air tastes crisp and heady as a fine Sancerre, and despite some trepidation my erratic strokes carry me towards a small cove on the far side of the bay with surprising ease. At this level I’m an integral part of the sky-water communion, and when a curious harbour seal pops up within paddle range we play ‘grandmother’s footsteps’ until it loses interest and I remember breakfast …

Remote estuaries where ‘Island Roamer’ is the only shimmer of terrestrial light in a universe of stars.

The covered bear ‘blind’ on Gribbell Island. A pretty, tranquil spot, but glimpses of our first black bear are frustratingly oblique as he splashes around a pond that has formed behind the thick trunk of a fallen tree further upstream. Soft speculation, fingers crossed. Yes! Our next visitor chooses to fish a scant 15 metres away, directly below the ‘blind’, and even my small camera easily captures the bright button eyes, shaggy rotundness and athletic waddle that are purely and engagingly bear. He knows we’re here, but pursuing another slippery meal is much more interesting. Spirit Bears remain enigmatically absent but I, for one, am not hugely disappointed.

Standing amidst the dilapidated old cannery houses at Butedale. A friendly ginger cat and his hermit owner are now the only residents.

Daily encounters with Humpback Whales. An exploding huff and plume of diaphanous white spray announce their massive presence and as three surface in concert – all streamlined grace and refined power – to bubble-feed, any attempts at objective reportage slide into emotional superlatives. Only the great whales have such a spiritual and mythological hold over the human psyche. I listen to the haunting high-pitched yaws and low, booming groans that echo out along the deep ocean pathways and hear the still living heartbeat of a prehistoric world.

Sadly this rich and irreplaceable eco-system is again under threat from logging, the passage of oil tankers and fish farming. One can only hope that the strong local and international voices raised in opposition to its exploitation will be heard; their warnings heeded. 

Read more about our 'Spirit Bears, Grizzlies & Humpbacks - Cruising the Great Bear Rainforest' holiday.