Category Archives: Kodiak Bear

Kodiak Bear biology, behavior, and news

December Bear

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife, , ,

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My December bear story is more than a bear tale. It describes a memorable 18 hours of my life.

December is a tricky time of year on Kodiak Island. The temperature can be in the forties, winds calm, and the sky clear, but an hour later, it might be 20 degrees with 50 mph winds, snow blowing sideways, and no visibility. A quick flight to town by floatplane can turn into a weeklong ordeal, waiting for the weather to improve enough to fly home.

About 15 years ago, Mike had just such a trip to town. The weather was fine when he left. Our deer hunts had recently ended, and we had deer meat hanging in the meat shed. Mike’s plan was to fly to town, run a few errands, and fly home the next day to process the meat. It had been very cold, so the deer meat in the shed was frozen solid, and we weren’t concerned about it attracting bears. Mike’s trip to town turned out to be longer than expected, though, when a storm hit, and one night turned into two and then three.

I stayed by myself at the lodge, but I wasn’t worried, because everything was working fine. My routine was to turn on the generator in the evening and then turn it off again just before I went to bed. The only inconvenience was that I had to walk 100 feet to the generator shed. The easiest path from the house to the shed is down a wooden walk, but the walk was covered with ice, making it nearly impassable. Instead, I took the longer, safer route behind the house, past the meat shed, and between our two guest cabins.

The third night of staying alone, the temperature soared above freezing, and to my delight, the ice on the walk began to melt. What I didn’t consider was that the deer meat was also thawing. That night at bedtime, I grabbed my flashlight for my trek to the generator shed. I started to head up the trail to the meat shed, but at the last moment, I realized the ice had melted from the walk, so I took that route. Once I was back inside the house, I bolted the door and got ready for bed in the pitch-dark house. Just as I was sliding under the covers, I heard the unmistakable noise of boards being ripped from a building, and the sound was coming from the direction of the meat shed. I considered my options but quickly decided I did not want to confront a bear on a dark, moonless night, so I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

The next morning, I thought I had imagined the late-night commotion. The shed appeared fine when I looked at it through the kitchen window, but then I saw a fox on the hill behind the shed and then another fox and then three eagles, all eating something. I hurried outdoors and down the walk to get a view of the shed from a different angle, and sure enough, a large section of the rear wall was missing. A bear had busted through the wall, drug the deer meat outside, enjoyed a feast, and now the other forest creatures were feeding on his scraps. I didn’t see the bear, but I knew he probably hadn’t gone far, and as soon as he digested his dinner from the previous evening, he’d be back to search of his next meal. I called Mike and reported the situation, and he told me to be careful and said he’d be home as soon as the weather improved.

The skies briefly cleared in Kodiak, and it looked as if Mike might get home to help me with my bear situation, but as I waited for the plane, it began to snow. Pilots flying around the rugged, mountainous terrain of Kodiak Island must be able to see where they are flying, and heavy snow makes that impossible. I stared out the window as the snow showers continued. At times the visibility was fairly good, and at others, the mountains were completely obscured. I called the airlines and reported our weather, and the pilot was hesitant about attempting the flight. I wanted Mike to get home and help me with the bear, but I did not want him to fly in poor weather.

As I waited, my anxiety built, and when I received a VHF radio call from a deer hunter saying a plane had crashed in the bay, and he was bringing the pilot to our lodge, I was certain it was Mike’s plane. As it turned out, though, the downed aircraft was a wheel plane, and while the pilot was cold, wet, and upset, and the plane was totaled, there had been no passengers on the plane, and the pilot wasn’t hurt.

Mike finally flew home later that afternoon, and the pilot from the crash got a ride back to town. We removed the remaining deer meat from the shed and processed it, and then we repaired the damage to the shed. Once the food supply was gone, there was no reason for the bear to remain, and he went on his way.

I have always wondered what would have happened that night if I’d chosen to take the trail past the meat shed after I’d turned off the generator. I likely would have collided with a hungry bear intent on locating the deer meat he could smell. Maybe he would have run from me, and then again, maybe not. When it was all over, I decided I did not want to spend another December night alone in the wilderness!

Tragic Bear Tale

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife, , ,

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My tragic bear tale occurred in the mid-1980s during our summer bear-viewing trips. My husband, Mike, and I were walking down the beach with five guests. We were finished bear viewing for the day, and since there were no bears in sight, we were talking quietly. Mike looked up on the hill above the beach and saw a sow watching us. Mike knew immediately that she was agitated. She popped her teeth, and foam frothed from her mouth. Mike yelled at us to get back, and although I had never before been frightened around bears, the sound of his voice made my legs tremble. I repeated his orders to our guests, who were trying to understand the situation. Mike yelled at the sow again and then pumped a shell into the chamber of the .375 H&H rifle he always carries on our bear-viewing trips. Normally, the loud, metallic sound of a shell being injected into the chamber of the rifle is enough to deter curious bears, but it had no effect on this bear. She stomped her front feet on the bank and lunged from side to side, while she continued to foam at the mouth. Mike fired once into the dirt in front of her, a maneuver sure to make her flee. She stood still for only a moment and then flew down the cliff straight toward Mike. He shot again, and she dropped six feet from him.

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At the time, I didn’t realize what an impact those few seconds would have on the rest of my life. All I felt then was grief and sympathy for her two yearling cubs. Mike was so distraught over the experience that he considered never taking another bear viewer into the woods, but he knew brown bears rarely charge humans, and this probably never would happen to us again. The following day, Mike skinned the bear and turned the hide over to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game (ADF&G). A biologist determined that the sow had been 23 years old, and both the biologist and Mike believed that at her advanced age, her senses may have been impaired. She’d probably been asleep, and when she awoke and heard us walking down the beach, she considered us an immediate threat to her cubs and didn’t hesitate to charge. The biologist believed the cubs had approximately a 50% chance of survival through the winter. Not only would they have to avoid being killed by larger bears, but they’d need to build up their fat reserves, find or dig a den, and survive hibernation without the aid of their mother.

For many years after the sow charged us, I was terrified every time we took a group of guests bear viewing, and I was especially wary of sows and cubs. Looking back, I now believe I suffered from a form of post-traumatic-stress disorder, and it took a long time to overcome the trauma of that sunny, July afternoon. The experience heightened my respect for the speed and power of Kodiak bears, and it was also a crash course in understanding the differences between a bluff charge, often seen with sub-adult bears, and the real thing.

Kodiak Bear Sow and Cub

I no longer dread getting close to brown bears. On the contrary, I love sitting on a riverbank watching bears chase salmon, and seeing a sow interact with her cubs is a special treat, but after that July encounter so many years ago, I will never be complacent around brown bears.

 

 

Kodiak Bear Tales

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife,

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This week I am posting the first of my three-part series on Kodiak Bear Tales. I love the fact that I live in the midst of one of the largest brown-bear populations in the world, but knowing I could run into one of these large, furry creatures any time I take a walk in the woods, keeps me on my toes. I don’t think of it as bears living around our home; I see it as us living in the middle of their home. We must do all we can to co-exist with the largest land predators on the planet. Considering that there are 3500 bears on the Kodiak Archipelago, we have had very few negative encounters with these beautiful, intelligent, and sometimes fierce mammals. We spend our summers guiding tourists to watch bears fish for salmon and interact with each other, and we learn more about bears every time we watch them. I have nothing but respect for these huge, powerful animals. I realize they aren’t out to eat me, but I also know they aren’t teddy bears. They are the masters of their world, and as long as I choose to live near them, I can never forget that I am the interloper.

By far, I have had more good than bad experiences with bears. I have spent many hours watching sows teach their cubs how to fish, sub-adults box and wrestle, and smaller bears scramble when a huge male saunters down the middle of a stream. Over the years, though, we have had a few exciting moments with Kodiak bears. Some ended tragically, but most just made our hearts beat faster and reminded us that we are fragile creatures compared to brown bears. In this post and the next two, I will tell three of these stories. The first describes the brutal reality wild animals face living in a harsh environment. The second story is tragic, and the third is a near-miss that I call my December encounter and it reminds me that this environment is especially harsh for humans.

My first story is about an event that occurred when my husband, Mike, was 14 years old, and he, his five siblings, and his parents were living in the town of Kodiak for the winter, and the Amook Pass lodge in Uyak Bay was vacant. A winter watchman at Park’s Cannery, five miles from Munsey’s Bear Camp, stopped by the lodge to check on it and found the front window had been broken out, and he could hear loud noises inside the house. He contacted Mike’s parents, Park and Pat, and Park reported the incident to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game (ADF&G).

Park flew out to the lodge with Mike and an ADF&G biologist. Park climbed through the broken front window and saw a sow and her yearling cub sitting on the dining room table, eating the tablecloth. They were apparently so hungry that the smell of the minute food particles on the tablecloth attracted them to it. The biologist determined the bears were starving to death, would not make it through the winter, and would return to the lodge even if they were forced to leave now. He decided that destroying them was the only safe and humane course to follow.

Park positioned Mike in the front yard, his rifle aimed at the front door. Then, Park went into the kitchen, hoping to chase the bears from the dining room through the living room and out the front door. His plan went awry when he yelled, and instead of running away from him, the bears ran toward him. Park shot into the kitchen floor, and the sow and cub turned and fled out the front door, where Mike shot them.
When ADF&G biologists examined the bears, they found they were emaciated, and their stomachs were empty, except for part of the tablecloth and a roll of baggies. For the first few years I lived at Munsey’s Bear Camp, the kitchen cupboard doors still bore the claw marks of the bears, and the oven door never closed properly, because the sow apparently had sat on it.

Kodiak bears usually have plenty to eat between berries and salmon, and they have no trouble making it through the winter hibernation, but on those few years when the berry crop fails, and the salmon run is poor, a long winter can be tough, especially for a sow with cubs. ADF&G biologists warn the public during such years that bears may be unusually aggressive, because they are hungry.

Mid-Summer 2015

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Mid-Summer 2015 is the post I wrote for our Munsey’s Bear Camp website.

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I love watching our guests relax as they transition from their stress-filled lives into our peaceful, wild world.  When they first step off the floatplane, they are often quiet and perhaps even a little wary.  They’ve just flown forty-five minutes into the heart of the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge, and there are no roads or stores here.  There’s just a small lodge and a few boats.

We feed them lunch, Mike explains what they will be doing for the next few days, and we tell them to meet us at the dock in twenty minutes for their first-afternoon cruise on our 43-ft. boat.  They laugh at the sea otters and harbor seals and snap photos of bald eaglesDSC_1164 and other wildlife, but most remain quiet, and separate groups keep to themselves.

On the first full day, we go either bear viewing or fishing, and by that evening, I begin to see the first signs of relaxation, as our guests step out of their lives for a few days and into a world that revolves around tides and wild animals.  They ask us questions about the wildlife they’ve seen, tell us about their families, and describe other travel adventures they have had.  They linger for a few minutes after dinner, discussing the day’s events with their fellow adventures.

By the fourth day, the mood on the boat is often raucous.  These strangers, who on day one traded only polite comments, are now teasing each other and sharing photos and e-mail addresses. They sigh the last morning when they step off our boat for the final time.  They complain that the week flew by too quickly and vow to return again soon.

DSC_3890We’ve had beautiful weather so far this summer, and we’ve enjoyed great whale watching.  At times, we’ve been surrounded by fin whales, and one of the highlights of the summer was when a humpback breached several times right in front of us!  Halibut fishing has been very good, and we’ve had some of the best salmon fishing we can remember.  Pink salmon swarmed into Brown’s Lagoon in July, and we had non-stop action.  Meanwhile, large schools of silver salmon filled the bay.  The run was a month early, and it is likely that the early salmon were headed elsewhere and just stopped in Uyak Bay to feast on the large schools of herring and other small fish that have been so abundant this summer.  The rich food base of krill and small schooling fish is also undoubtedly why we’ve had so many whales in the bay.

Due to our warm weather, we’ve had another bumper crop of berries this summer, and theDSC_3823 bears are torn between catching salmon and feeding on berries.  Bears are much more plentiful than they were the first half of last summer, but we are sometimes frustrated as we wait for them to lose interest in berries and concentrate on salmon.  The rich and plentiful food source of berries and salmon the last few summers has provided great nutrition for the bears, and we’ve seen numerous groups of sows and cubs this summer.

On the home front, Mary Schwarzhans is again wowing our guests with her creative and delicious meals, and we are thrilled that Mary’s sister, Emma, is also working for us this summer.  The two of them make our lives much easier and more pleasant, and our guests tell us that even if we didn’t have spectacular wildlife and fishing here, they would return to Munsey’s Bear Camp just for the food.  I suspect that stepping out of their lives and truly relaxing for a few days might be another reason to return.

Orphaned Cubs

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Three orphaned cubs unexpectedly entered our lives two weeks ago. You may remember in my post on Kodiak bears emerging from their dens in the spring, I mentioned that sows with newborn cubs are the last to emerge, and often the sow will leave and return to the den many times before she introduces her babies to the world. Unfortunately, this behavior was fatal for one sow this spring.

Let me make it clear that bear hunting on Kodiak is very tightly regulated by a limited-permit system. It is illegal to shoot a sow with cubs, but when hunters saw this sow alone outside her den they shot her, perhaps never realizing she had cubs in the den. The incident is being investigated by the Alaska State Troopers, and I won’t speculate on what may or may not have happened. That part of the story is out of our hands.

Our guides already suspected this bear was a sow with young cubs in the den, and after she was shot, they kept a close eye on the den. A few days later, Tim, one of our guides, saw tiny, furry heads peering out of the den. My husband, Mike, called the Alaska Department of Fish and Game in Kodiak, and they gave us permission to rescue the cubs from the den. At that point, it had been five days since their mother died, and the biologists did not believe the cubs would survive.

Two of our guides climbed up to the den, caught the cubs, and carried them down the mountain in backpacks. They then transported the cubs back to our lodge for the night. The three brothers were dirty, terrified, and stressed, and they huddled under the bunk beds in our guides’ cabin. They drank some water, but I knew we were not getting enough nutrients into their little bodies. We later learned that the cubs each weighed about 12 pounds (5.5 kg), and they were dehydrated and malnourished.

The next morning, I stayed alone with the cubs, waiting nervously for Fish and Game to arrive to take them to Kodiak. I soon learned, though, that it was foggy in Kodiak, and all planes were grounded until the fog lifted. Every hour, I crept into the cabin and peered under the bed, making sure they were still moving and alert. They drank some water, but I finally decided that my attempts to feed them were causing them too much stress, and since the airplane ride undoubtedly would terrify them, I wanted them as calm as possible before they began the next leg of their ordeal.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, the floatplane touched down and glided to our dock. I raced to meet Fish and Game biologist Nate Svoboda and eagerly showed him where the bears were hiding. Nate was impressed the bears looked as good as they did, and he carefully placed them in a large kennel for the trip to Kodiak.

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Once in Kodiak, the cubs spent the night at Fish and Game and then took another plane ride to Anchorage, where the vets at the Alaska Zoo are now caring for them. A video recently released by the zoo shows the three brothers playing and cuddling. They are now clean and fluffy and appear to be very healthy. After spending several months in Anchorage, the cubs will board yet another plane. Two will go to a zoo in Wisconsin, and the third to another zoo.

I experienced a roller coaster of emotions during this drama: Anger, depression, excitement, worry, and fear among others, but as I watched the video from the Alaska Zoo and saw three, healthy, playful cubs, I finally allowed myself to smile and breathe a sigh of relief. The three bears will never know a life in the Kodiak wilderness, but they are alive, and their jobs now are to teach others about Kodiak bears. Maybe someday I will be able to visit them at their new homes.

View the video of the cubs.

Kodiak Bear Mating Behavior

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife, , ,

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Experts will tell you that the mating season for Kodiak bears occurs from mid-May to mid-July, but we have seen bears mate in April; and in fact, this year my husband spotted a boar and sow together on April 24th, and my brother-in-law saw two bears mating on April 21st.  The peak of the mating season occurs in June.

Brown bears are considered serially monogamous.  A female may stay with a male for several days or weeks, mating many times, and once he leaves, she will be pursued by her next suitor.  Over the course of the mating season, she will have several sexual partners.  Sometimes a male chases away a sow’s present mate, and then she will mate with the newcomer, or the two bears may fight, and she will mate with the victor.

Often when a boar first approaches a sow, she appears to be frightened and runs from him.  The boar may then methodically pursue the sow at a measured pace, following the scent of her trail.  At times, a boar seems to use little “common sense” when following the trail of a sow.  We watched one male slowly follow the female’s scent, but when she doubled back and passed within sight of the boar; instead of moving toward her, he continued to follow her scent, until he too doubled back on her trail.

Once the boar catches up with the sow, she may refuse to let him breed with her for several days.  As foreplay, they sometimes rub, cuff, or even bite each other.  The breeding process may last forty-five minutes or longer, with the male taking breaks and sometimes falling asleep during the process.

Ovulation in bears is not spontaneous as it is in humans but is induced by mechanical stimulation by the male.  The boar has a penis bone, or baculum, that stimulates the female to ovulate.  The stimulation must last for quite some time to induce ovulation, so the mating session must be fairly long to be successful.  Each ovulation produces only one egg, so bear cubs are fraternal and not identical, and cubs from the same litter may have different fathers.

Den Emergence on Kodiak

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Bears exhibit two notable springtime behaviors.  The first is emergence from their dens, and the second is courtship and mating.  In this post, I will discuss hibernation and den emergence of brown bears on Kodiak Island, and I will cover courtship and mating in a later post.

Normally, you don’t see a bear leave his den.  All you see is a hole in the snow high on the mountainside with dirt trailing out of the hole and tracks leading away from it.  Occasionally, you might be lucky enough to observe a head sticking out of a den entrance, or you may see a bear sitting right in front of or next to the den entrance.  Sometimes, you see the bear disappear back into the den and then reappear later.  This is often the behavior of a sow with newborn cubs, as the mother slowly acclimates the cubs to the world outside the den.

While I don’t plan to cover bear hibernation in detail in this post, I must mention that when bears hibernate, they do not experience the extreme dormancy that many rodents do.  While most bears spend the winter in hibernation, they can and do go in and out of hibernation, and on Kodiak where winters are relatively mild, some bears (mostly older males) do not hibernate at all.  It is common to see bear tracks all winter on Kodiak.

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There are very few natural rock caves on Kodiak, so bears dig their dens either into the side of a mountain or the side of a snow bank.  Research on Kodiak has shown that bears on the north end of the island usually dig their dens at a high elevation, where the soil remains frozen all winter, and the den remains stable.  On the south end of the island where the mountains are not as high, bears tend to dig dens in mid-slope habitat in alder thickets, where the dens are stabilized by alder roots.

Pregnant females are usually the first to enter their dens, followed by lone females and females with cubs.  Males normally are the last to enter their dens.  The time of den emergence in the spring is dependent on temperature and weather conditions, but males typically leave their dens first, followed by single females and sows with cubs.  Sows with newborn cubs are the last to emerge.  Males on Kodiak spend an average of three to five months in hibernation, while pregnant females may hibernate as long as seven months.

Pregnant sows give birth while in hibernation; which is an amazing feat of nature, since the sow must provide nutrients to her unborn young while she is hibernating and not eating.  She provides these nutrients by breaking down her own body proteins, and this causes her to lose muscle mass.  Since she would not be able to move if she lost too much muscle mass, a sow gives birth to very under-developed cubs.  No other mammals except marsupials have such immature offspring at birth.  A newborn cub weighs one pound (.5 kg).  They are blind, deaf, and unable to smell.  They are covered by a very fine hair and are toothless, weak, and uncoordinated.  They can detect temperature changes, so they move closer to their mother to seek warmth, and they are also able to find the sow’s nipples to nurse.  A bear’s milk is very rich, and cubs gain weight quickly, but they are still small and fragile by the time they leave the den, and their mother is very protective of them.

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During hibernation, bears do not eat, urinate, or defecate.  When they leave their dens in the spring, they are groggy and sluggish, and it takes time for their bodily functions to return to normal.  Soon after leaving their dens, bears often pass a fecal plug that may be as long as two feet (61 cm) in length.  This plug consists of digested food that has accumulated in the lower intestine as a result of not defecating all winter.

After bears leave their dens, they drink large amounts of water but eat very little, concentrating on emerging plants and roots.  As spring progresses, they begin grazing on sedges and grasses as well as other plants, and by summer, they are voracious eaters, consuming protein-rich salmon and berries loaded with sugar.  By late summer and fall, a bear may consume 20,000 calories per day and add six to eight inches (15.24 to 20.32 cm) of fat to his body as he prepares for his next hibernation.

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What is a Kodiak Bear?

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The question I am most often asked about Kodiak bears is, “What is a Kodiak bear, and how does a Kodiak bear differ from an Alaskan brown bear or a grizzly bear?” This is a good question, and it does not have an easy answer.

From a taxonomic standpoint, all North American and Eurasian brown and grizzly bears are grouped into one species, Ursus arctos.  The bears of the Kodiak Archipelago are further subdivided into the subspecies Ursus arctos middendorfi , and all other brown bears, including grizzly bears, are included in the subspecies Ursus arctos horibilis. 

Before the advent of genetic testing, subspecies classifications were based on notable physical differences between individuals from two distinct populations of the same species.  For example, a population of finches where the individuals have robust beaks suitable for cracking seeds might be considered a separate subspecies from a population of the same species that has thinner beaks more suitable for extracting insects from bark.  It was reasoned that significant physical differences between two populations translates to genetic differences between these populations, but how much physical diversity is significant enough to declare a population a subspecies?  In 1918, C. Hart Merriam divided North American brown and grizzly bears into eighty-six subspecies based on small physical differences between individuals in separate populations.  Now scientists recognize only two subspecies.

What makes the Kodiak bear so different from all other brown bears that it rates its own subspecies classification?  Probably the biggest difference between Kodiak bears and other brown bears is that Kodiak bears tend to grow larger and have bigger skulls.  According to the Boone and Crockett Club record book, the definitive record book for hunting trophies, seventeen of the twenty largest brown bear skulls taken by hunters have come from Kodiak.  Also, Kodiak bears are a geographically-isolated population, so it follows that Kodiak bears might be genetically different from all other brown bear populations.DSC_2813

This all made sense until the mid 1990’s when geneticists began studying genetic diversity across the North American range of brown bears.  Their studies showed that while there is some genetic diversity between Kodiak bears and other brown-bear populations, this diversity is probably not significant enough to warrant the designation of a separate subspecies.  In contrast, brown bears from Admiralty, Baranof, and Chichagof islands in southeastern Alaska show marked genetic differentiation from other Alaskan brown bear populations, and many researchers believe these bears should be considered a separate subspecies.

I guess all of this means that the more you know, the less you know, and there is no clear answer to why Kodiak bears are classified differently from other Alaskan brown bears.  At the present time, Kodiak bears are considered a separate subspecies, but this classification may soon change as more genetic evidence is revealed.

What do you think?  Should the classifications be changed?  Should all brown and grizzly bears be considered one species with no subspecies designations?

For much more information on Kodiak bears visit my wildlife notebook.