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Below is guest Christine Syers' writing competition entry based on her trip to Canada in September 2022.
We left Vancouver Airport with the possibility of not being able to land at Bella Bella due to poor weather conditions. We were soon distracted from these thoughts by the spectacular mountain and forest scenery below, hinting at what we hopefully would soon be experiencing. After circling over Bella Bella through thick cloud, there was a sudden break in visibility and we seemed to ‘pop’ through a hole in the cloud and had soon landed safely. Relief was expressed in a cheer for the Pilots’ skill, which was acknowledged by a reciprocal ‘thumbs up’, all adding to the sense of our unfolding adventure.
After a warm welcome onto our boat, the ‘Island Roamer’, our home for the next week, we soon settled into the daily rhythm of life on a yacht. Our ‘wish list’ of wildlife encounters was soon partially met by a very accommodating Sea Otter, who proudly twisted and turned beside the boat, to the delight of all. We were soon immersed in the sights and sounds of the Great Bear Rainforest – the evocative whistling call of the Bald Eagle and ‘clacking’ of a Pied Kingfisher providing a back track. Added to this, that distinctive ‘phwargh‘ of a surfacing Humpback Whale, and its accompanying ‘blow’ of expelled air. Reliving that excitement of your first breaching whale when experienced by others. This all to the background of steeply sided mountains clothed in Hemlock, Cedar and Douglas Fir, in places looking like some over-exuberant child had decorated them with dripping moss and lichen and terminating so close to the water’s edge as though they were ‘dipping’ their roots to test the water’s temperature.
As time passed, anticipation of the trip’s hoped for highlight built, unspoken, in case its mention may jinx its actualisation. Yes, we were blessed with seeing weary-worn Grizzly mums, with their undeniably cute cubs, but we all knew we had a greater hope and desire as our goal.
That day started with sunshine and mist hanging over the forest like carefully placed fairy floss. After what for our crew was a challenging landing, we were met by our lovely Gitga’at guide, who safely led us into and through the forest. We walked quietly and contemplatively, almost holding our breath, in case our anticipated quarry may hear us and disappear. Just as we were descending steeply to our viewing point, that magical and unimaginable word was whispered through the group… ‘Bear… Spirit Bear’. There she was, no longer a dream, looking down at us as if we were the ones being watched. Added to that, we didn’t seem to impress her too much, as she promptly lay down, yawned and decided a nap was in order. We moved on to our allotted viewing spot and settled comfortably on a fallen tree, a covering of moss providing a comfy cushion. Talking quietly and with the ripple of the excitement through the group, time soon passed, supplemented by the displays of a jewel- like blue Steller’s Jay ‘hoovering up’ salmon eggs and an American Dipper zipping up and down the stream before us. The bubbling of the stream was soon broken by the gasp of a fellow traveller, as our now rested Spirit Bear decided to rejoin us. To our speechless amazement she gently and quietly joined us by the river to fish for salmon. In that moment, my heart stopped beating, all was quiet and there I was within feet of a fully wild bear, a Spirt Bear no less. Cameras clicked and silent ‘Wows‘ were shared, and on the bear having disappeared out of sight, the bubbling excitement of the group replaced any other forest noise.
As though this was not enough, the rainforest still held a further treat for us. As we returned to our boat and moved down the island’s rocky shore, excitingly reliving what had just happened, the call for Spirit Bear was heard again, above the chug of the boat’s motor, and there again was that elusive light-coloured bear, feeding on the rocky shore. As she turned to assess us and disappeared into the forest, the origin of the name ‘Ghost’ or ‘Spirit’ Bear became self-evident. Like an apparition, disappearing silently, as if it had never been there.
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