Loading search...
A client travelled on our 'Canada: The West' holiday and submitted this entry to our writing competition.
Black Bear by Paul Stanbury
The Perfect Storm
We were heading in the wrong direction – according to the itinerary, that is. But a storm almost as big as British Columbia itself had battered the west coast of Vancouver Island and blown our programme way off course. Throw in a planned power cut, flooded roads, beaches off limits, everywhere and everything closed, and we had all the ingredients for a perfect storm. We were yet to discover precisely how perfect that storm had been.
Our Grey Whale watching trip was rescheduled for a later sailing. Perfect for us as it meant great sightings of these vast creatures as they surfaced and fluked in the swell. And perfect again because it was on that rescheduled trip that we heard the hot tip on Black Bears congregating to fish for salmon at Thornton Creek. The directions to the creek sounded rather more uncertain than accurate, but we hoped we were on the right track when the thick curtain of trees parted to give a rewarding glimpse of a Black Bear padding across a clearing – just long enough to leave us eager for more.
When we did eventually tumble out of our minibus there was nothing much to see at first. A few other vehicles were clustered haphazardly around an unlovely concrete cube which housed a salmon fishery, and a short sweep of rough, unmade track disappearing around a bend. But it was a chance to stretch our legs after several miles of crunching along the gravel of the old logging road. With no idea what to expect – this was an adventure for our seasoned Naturetrek leaders too – we headed towards the river, rounded the bend and stepped straight into our very own wildlife film. The sun was breaking through the clouds and a rainbow arced over a waterfall as the fast-flowing river roared its way around the rocks and boulders to widen out in a shallow estuary away to our left. A low bridge spanning the river made a great viewing platform – and what a view. Several Black Bears, stars of the show and unconcerned by the small audience of admiring onlookers just metres away, were paddling in the estuary, noses down, snuffling out salmon. They aren’t the most efficient of anglers and often a salmon managed to leap and twist away, delaying its inevitable demise for just a little longer. But those unlucky enough to be speared on the murderous claws were quickly and carelessly filleted, as the bears feasted on the best bits – the brain and eggs – before discarding the remains of the hapless fish, still flapping helplessly, back into the water.
A female Black Bear, cub trotting hard on her heels, waded into the river and began her hunt for salmon. When a large male started taking an unwelcome interest she stood her ground, protesting loudly, warning him to back off. The cub, sensing danger, scuttled for the safety of the forest, and seconds later emerged by the bridge where we watching the drama unfold. He hurtled across – just inches away from us – and headed straight for an unsuspecting photographer who was crouched on the far side, eyes and lens focused on the stand-off out on the estuary. Human was certainly more startled than bear. The photographer, struggling to stand and step away at the same time, fell backwards, heels over head. Lee, our Naturetrek leader, more alert to the sound of optics in distress than any female bear to her cub, made an impressive diving catch for the camera as it crashed towards the ground, leaving the photographer to fend for himself and the cub to disappear into the trees, entirely unaware of the commotion.
But there was more to come. Even as we wiped away tears of laughter, the mother, with an impressive turn of speed, left the water in hot pursuit of her cub. She powered across the bridge, close enough to touch for anyone crazy enough to try – though no one was. Instead, we all stepped swiftly back as she raced past and headed off into the forest. In a moment the mood of the crowd had changed. Our laughter melted into a murmur of hushed reverence for the scene we had been so lucky to witness – without the aid of telescope, binoculars or from the safe obscurity of a hide.
So that storm really was perfect, for without it we wouldn’t have discovered Thornton Creek and the very best of bear watching.
Read more about our 'Canada: The West' holiday.