january-2012

and dive through windows,’ Rose had told me). Before we set
off into the wilds, Andy and Terry, armed to the teeth with a
battery of deterrents, gave a strict safety briefi ng. Polar bears are
unpredictable, we were warned – forget the myth that they
always attack from behind. If threatened, don’t run and don’t
play dead. Th e fi rst line of defence is to shout at the bear, then
to throw stones at it (apparently, they do not like to be
touched). If that fails to stop an advance, ‘screamers and
bangers’ are fi red at it. As a last resort, a shotgun is used. ‘It will
not hurt the bear at a distance,’ explained Terry, ‘but at close
quarters, if he keeps charging, it will kill him. It is a much
better option than a rifl e, which would require a very accurate
aim. A bear’s skull is thick and angled in such a way that it
defl ects bullets.’ Happily, in their combined 20-odd years of
experience with polar bears, neither Terry nor Andy have had
cause to shoot one of these magnifi cent creatures.
Th us briefed, we set out in hushed single fi le, over spongy
ground fragrant with berries and wild fl owers, solid permafrost
just 50cm beneath us, in search of bears. Th e distinctive bugle
call of sandhill cranes accompanied us, while cheeky sik-siks
– Arctic ground squirrels – stood sentinel on rocks, vanishing at
our approach. Overhead, a bald eagle soared, surveying the
scene as an Arctic hare made its escape, bobbing white tail a
bull’s-eye for predators.
From July to November, having swum ashore from the
melting ice, polar bears are in a state of ‘walking hibernation’,
their digestive systems switched off unless food (like the hapless
whale) falls into their laps. ‘Th ey are conserving energy,’ said
Andy, ‘but it is a state they can control.’ Sure enough, we soon
PRIVATESCAPE
Can we just ify trespassing on the territory of an animal
for our pleasure, if it then kills in self-defence?
Sixty-Eight
reached a ridge where a furry white heap lay dozing among
brilliant purple fi reweed, a huge paw batting away the noisome
bugs. Sensing us, the bear sat up, stretched his neck to sniff the
sky, and settled down again, legs in the air, unfazed by our
presence 40 metres away. ‘He is quite relaxed,’ said Andy, ever
alert for trouble. ‘Warning signs are yawns and fl attening of ears.’
We came across a mother vigilant over her nervous cubs,
and we followed the hairy rump of an adolescent male, making
swaggering, pigeon-toed progress deftly over granite boulders
where the tide had receded. One magical evening, a bear came
snuffl ing up to the dining-room windows, drawn by the
mouth-watering aroma of our barbecuing ribs. I watched him
loiter hopefully, then swim away into the setting sun, a white
speck in the silvery ocean, disappearing towards the horizon.
Mother Nature is unbiddable, and we were fortunate to
have had so many sightings. Th e sacrifi cial whale no doubt had
something to do with it, and aff orded us the rare treat of seeing
bears in action, successively sizing each other up in displays of
dominance and eviction; or taking the path of least resistance
and sharing the windfall. It was a primal scene, a gory banquet
such as Sir David Attenborough might have waited months to
capture on fi lm. Above all, it was a salutary reminder that these
beautiful, alluring creatures are the world’s largest and most
fearsome land carnivores, to be treated with the utmost
circumspection and the respect they deserve.
Teresa Levonian Cole travelled with Frontier Canada,
+44 (0)20 8776 8709, www.frontier-canada.co.uk.
Th e best time to see polar bears at Seal River is July/August and
October/November. For further info: www.churchillwild.com