Tag Archives: Kodiak Bear

Bear Hibernation (Part Two)

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Last week I posted about the mechanics of bear hibernation, but how does a large mammal manage to curl up in a ball in a cave and sleep for five months? Humans and other mammals would die if they tried to hibernate. During hibernation, bears do not eat, urinate or defecate. What physiological adaptations allow them to do this?

While in hibernation, a brown bear’s breathing drops from 6 to 10 breaths per minute to one breath every 45 seconds. His heart rate drops from forty to fifty beats per minute to nineteen beats per minute, but his body temperature decreases only a few degrees and does not drop below 88° F (31°C), which is within 12°F (6°C) of his normal body temperature. Some scientists consider bears to be “super hibernators.” Because they have thick fur and also a lower surface area to mass ratio than do smaller hibernators such as rodents, bears lose body heat slowly, which allows them to cut their metabolic rate by 50-60%. Physiologist Øivind Tøien at the University of Alaska Fairbanks has discovered that while a black bear’s body temperature only drops an average of 9.9° F (5.5° C), the bear’s metabolism plunges to 25% of the average summer rate. Furthermore, his studies indicate that when a black bear comes out of hibernation in the spring, it takes several weeks for the bear’s metabolism to return to normal.

The amazing physiological adaptations of bears during hibernation are of much interest to human medical researchers. If a human must endure prolonged bed rest due to paralysis or illness, if a broken limb is immobilized, or if an astronaut spends several months in space; the human body faces such risks as blood clots, heart failure, significant loss of muscle mass, a breakdown of carbohydrates, proteins, and fats, as well as life-threatening bedsores. A hibernating bear has none of these risks, including no loss of muscle function. Scientists are interested in determining what specific changes in metabolites, proteins, and hormones allow bears these physiological adaptations during several months of inactivity. Humans, as well as all other mammals who maintain non-weight-bearing positions for an extended period, suffer from osteoporosis, but bears do not lose bone mass during hibernation. When the secret to how bears accomplish this feat is discovered, it may help people with weak bones, patients who become bedridden for a prolonged period, people who suffer paralysis, and astronauts on long space missions.

While bears are hibernating and metabolizing body fat, their cholesterol levels are twice as high as respective cholesterol levels in humans. Bears, however, do not suffer from arteriosclerosis or gallstones, conditions which plague humans with high cholesterol. Furthermore, a bear’s liver secretes a substance that dissolves gallstones in humans. Insight into how bears recycle urea during hibernation could lead to advances in treatments for kidney failure and dialysis in humans. Also, bears gain a great deal of weight in the fall before going into hibernation, but unlike many obese humans, they remain insulin-sensitive. Conversely, they become insulin-resistant once they are in hibernation, so their fat does not break down too quickly, but when they wake in the spring, they once again respond to insulin. In other words, bears can put themselves into a diabetic state while in hibernation and then reverse out of it in the spring. Understanding what allows bears to do this could lead to breakthrough medical advances in the treatment of diabetes and obesity in humans.

There’s so much more going on with hibernation than simply curling up for a long winter’s nap. I look forward to reading new scientific studies on bear hibernation.

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Kodiak Bear Hibernation (Part One)

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife, , , , , , , ,

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Hibernation is one of the most amazing physiological adaptations in nature, and the more I learn about bear hibernation, the more the process fascinates me. Most bears have recently left their dens here on Kodiak, and they are slowly restarting their digestive systems as they prepare for the summer feeding season. Over the next two weeks, I’ll post about denning and hibernation for Kodiak bears. I wrote a post a year ago about den emergence on Kodiak, but this time, I will discuss hibernation in more detail.

Bears hibernate in the winter to conserve energy when weather conditions are harsh, and food is scarce. While hibernating bears experience a degree of dormancy, it is nowhere near as extreme as it is in many other species such as bats, squirrels, and rodents. On Kodiak where winters are relatively mild, bears often go into and out of hibernation and some bears (mostly boars) do not hibernate at all. It is common to see bear tracks in the snow all winter on Kodiak.

Bears typically enter their dens in the order of pregnant females followed by lone females and then females with cubs. Males are the last to enter their dens, and large, old boars in particular may not hibernate at all. Denning conditions vary from year to year depending on the weather conditions and the availability of food.

The time of den emergence in the spring is also dependent upon temperature and weather conditions and varies by sex and age. Males typically leave their dens first, followed by single females and then sows with cubs. Sows with newborn cubs are the last to emerge   Males usually spend three to five months in hibernation while pregnant females may hibernate as long as seven months.

While there is an instinctual aspect to denning, it also appears to be a learned behavior that sows teach their cubs. Perhaps the most important information the mother bear relays to her cubs is how to choose a den site. On Kodiak, there are few natural rock caves, so bears must dig their dens into the sides of the mountains or the sides of snow banks. Lawrence Van Daele, Victor Barnes Jr., and Roger Smith studied and compared denning behaviors on the northern part of the island to those on southwestern Kodiak. On the northern portion of Kodiak where the mountains are taller, they determined that the bears in their study group denned at an average elevation of 2180 ft. (665m). The bears in this region preferred steep slopes in alpine habitat for their dens, probably because the dens were high enough that the soil remained frozen throughout the winter, and the den structure remained stable. On southwestern Kodiak Island with its gentler topography, bears denned at an average elevation of 1499 ft. (457 m) and preferred midslope habitats near alder thickets. The researchers believe that the alder roots help stabilize these dens that were dug in loose, unfrozen soil. It is important that a bear chooses an area for his den that will remain stable throughout the winter and won’t collapse, but dens often do collapse in the spring and summer after the bears have emerged, and the bears are forced to dig new dens the following fall.

Before a bear digs and enters his den, he eats a large amount of food to build his fat layer. Berries provide natural sugars, and a bear may gain as many as 20,000 calories per day from eating berries in the late summer and fall. Bears also drink large quantities of water and consume foods high in protein, such as salmon. Brown bears add six to eight inches (15.24 to 20.32 cm) of fat before hibernation. They stop eating shortly before they enter their dens.

During hibernation, bears do not eat, urinate, or defecate. They curl up to conserve heat, but they may change position in the den. They are sensitive to their surroundings, and hey may awaken and move about or even temporarily leave the den. Pregnant sows give birth while in hibernation, and they can lactate to nurse their cubs. They can also lick and groom their cubs.DSC_0208

Bears emerge slowly from their dens in the spring. A bear may go in and out of his den many times over the course of several days before leaving his den for good. This is especially true of sows with newborn cubs who may stay near the den for one to two weeks, slowly allowing the small cubs to adapt to the outside world. Upon emergence, bears are groggy and sluggish, and it takes time for their bodily functions to return to normal. Soon after leaving the den, a bear will pass a fecal plug that may be as long as two feet in length (61 cm). This plug consists of digested food that has accumulated in the lower intestine as a result of not defecating all winter. After leaving the den, bears drink large quantities of water and slowly begin to eat new plant shoots.

Next week I will write about the amazing physiological adaptations bears employ during hibernation and how and why these adaptations are being studied by human medical researchers.

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Kodiak Bear Growth

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Kodiak Bear Sow Nursing Her Cubs
Kodiak Bear Sow Nursing Her Cubs

Last week I gave you an update on the orphaned cubs we rescued a year ago, and I reported that the cubs weighed only 12 lbs. (5.45 kg) when we rescued them, but they now weigh 175 lbs. (79.54 kg). Is this normal; do Kodiak bear cubs in the wild gain that much weight in one year? The answer to this question varies and is dependent on many factors, including the mother’s physical condition. Was she able to eat enough berries and salmon to provide her with adequate nutrition to care for her cubs, and did she catch so many salmon that the cubs were able to eat a few of the scraps to supplement the milk she fed them? As with humans, some sows are better mothers and providers than others. Older sows with more experience tend to do a better job than young sows providing for their young. If the mother cannot find enough food for herself, she usually drops one of the cubs. Sows often leave the den with three or four cubs but may only have one or two by the end of the first summer. This sounds cruel, but if the mother senses she cannot feed three cubs, she must sacrifice one to save the other two.

Cubs of the Year (COY)
Cubs of the Year (COY)

Under normal conditions, a Kodiak bear cub’s weight doubles every two months during the first year. By their second summer, yearling cubs weigh approximately 135 lbs. (61.36 kg). By the time they are two-and-one-half years old, the males begin to outgrow the females, and weights may vary greatly. Females average 212 lbs. (96.36 kg) And males average 225 lbs. (102.27 kg). Females reach their full adult size at approximately five years when they weigh between 350 and 500 lbs. (159.09 – 227.27 kg). Males continue to grow, gaining approximately 100 lbs. (45.45 kg) per year until they are eight to ten years old and weigh 500 to 1000 lbs. (227.27 – 454.54 kg) Kodiak bears gain weight and add fat in the summer when food is abundant and then burn off this fat during hibernation.

One-Year-Old Cubs
One-Year-Old Cubs

The largest Kodiak bear on record lived in the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo and weighed 1670 lbs. (757 kg.). In the wild, Kodiak bears are not easy to weigh. Biologist Vic Barnes set out to answer the question, “How big do Kodiak bears get?” With the assistance of hunting guides, he obtained the weights of several large boars and sows shot during spring and fall hunts. The largest three boars weighed 1245 lbs. (566 kg), 1483 lbs. (674 kg), and 1519 lbs. (690.5 kg). The largest female weighed 767 lbs. (348.6 kg).DSC00101

I plan to do more bear posts over the next few weeks, so don’t hesitate to ask me a question or tell me something you’d like to know about Kodiak bears. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll research it.

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Update on Orphaned Cubs

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I wrote a post a year ago about three orphaned cubs that entered our lives when a resident hunter killed their mother. Last spring, my husband, Mike Munsey watched a hunter shoot a bear near a den, but Mike didn’t know it was a sow with cubs until several days later when one of our guides saw a newborn cub peer out of the den. It is illegal to shoot a sow with cubs, but the hunter was apparently unaware the bear he shot had cubs. Mike called Alaska Department of Fish and Game biologist Nate Svoboda and asked for permission to rescue the tiny cubs from their den. The helpless newborn cubs had been without food and water for several days, and Nate didn’t think they would survive, but he gave Mike permission to attempt a rescue.

There is an abundance of bears in zoos across the country. Bears live a long time, and they eat a lot of food, so they are expensive to maintain. Not many zoos are looking for bears, and unless The Department of Fish and Game has a specific request from a zoo with a suitable bear-habitat exhibit, they cannot rescue bears from the wilderness, even if they know the bears won’t survive on their own. When Mike called Nate, he expected to be told to let nature take its course, and he was pleasantly surprised when Nate gave the go-ahead for the rescue.

Mike radioed our guide Harry Dodge and Harry, another guide, and one of our hunters climbed to the den and captured the three cubs. The cubs were caked with mud, dehydrated, and hungry. The guys each put a cub in his backpack and hiked down to the beach. From there, the cubs were brought back to our lodge where they spent the night. The following day, Nate and a local pilot flew out to our lodge, put the cubs in a big cage, and flew them back to Kodiak. From there, they were flown to the Alaska Zoo in Anchorage where they were nursed back to health.

The cubs stayed at the Alaska Zoo for several months, and we watched frequent videos of them on the nightly news as they continued to grow. The videos showed the cubs wrestling and playing, and the sight of them looking healthy and playful always brought tears to my eyes.

This past fall, two of the cubs were moved to the Wildwood Zoo in Marshfield, Wisconsin. A few months later, the other cub was sent to the Toledo Zoo. The Wildwood Zoo had just completed a beautiful, large bear enclosure, so the timing couldn’t have been more perfect, and the two cubs were greeted as celebrities in Marshfield. The zoo held a contest to name the cubs, and the winning names were: Munsey and Boda. Munsey was of course named after Mike, and Boda was named after Nate Svoboda. Check out the Wildwood Zoo website to see photos of Munsey and Boda, and while you are there take a look at the beautiful Kodiak Bear Exhibit. The cub that went to the Toledo Zoo was named Dodge after Harry Dodge, the guide who helped rescue the cubs from the den. Mike, Nate, and Harry are all very proud that the cubs were named after them, and we are thrilled that the little guys (all three are males) are thriving.

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When those dirty little cubs were visitors at our lodge, the largest weighed only 12 lbs. The latest report we received on the cubs at the Wildwood Zoo is that they now weigh 175 lbs. I’ve heard several people comment that it’s sad they couldn’t be re-released into the wilderness, but that was never an option. Cubs learn from their mothers how to interact with other bears, avoid danger, procure food, and how to hibernate. These bears have lived in zoos nearly their entire lives, and the Alaska Department of Fish and Game only sends bears to zoos with first-rate bear enclosures. These cubs now have the mission of teaching thousands of people about bears, about Kodiak, and about the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge. I have no doubt that all three will do a good job.

The photo at the top of this post was taken last year when Nate was putting the cubs in the plane to fly them to Kodiak. The other photo in this post is of two unrelated one-year-old cubs and their mother. This photo was taken in August, so the cubs were a few months older than the orphan cubs.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers.  It didn’t occur to me when I wrote this update that I would be posting it on Mother’s Day.  I hope you will find it a story with a sad beginning but a happy ending.

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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.

Autumn on Kodiak Island

Kodiak Wildlife, Living in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, , , , , ,
Autumn in Amook Pass
Autumn in Amook Pass

Autumn on Kodiak Island is a beautiful time of year, but I’ll be honest, it is not my favorite season.

Once the fuchsia petals have fallen from the fireweed, the leaves turn crimson, and the mountainsides are cloaked in a Christmas quilt of dark green and brilliant red. The cottonwood, alder, and birch leaves fade to yellow, and the abundant sedges along the shoreline gleam golden against the orange rock weed. High-bush cranberry leaves turn scarlet, and the fragrant scent of the sweet berries wafts on the breeze, mixed with the pungent odor of decaying salmon.

On a sunny day, autumn on Kodiak is breathtaking, especially if you view it while skimming the mountains in a plane. Unfortunately, there are not many sunny, calm days during a Kodiak autumn. Low-pressure systems pile one upon the next and roll across the Bering Sea and the Alaska Peninsula, slamming into Kodiak Island. One such storm in late August surprised us with 60 mph winds, and when the mooring for our 43-ft. cabin cruiser broke, we were forced to jump in our skiff and chase after and retrieve it in rough seas.DSC_0762

Our summer trips last into late September, because the bear viewing is very good then. Some years we are lucky, but other years, we are hit with gale-force winds and torrential rains. I enjoy guiding wildlife viewers and fishermen during our summer trips, but by the time the season ends, I usually am exhausted from battling the weather and dealing with boats on windy days. If September is bad, October is worse. October is one of the rainiest months on Kodiak Island, and between rain and wind, the leaves often fall before they have a chance to turn yellow, and soon, the mountainsides are brown, the ground slick with wet, rotting vegetation.

Bears are perhaps the best part about fall. As the temperature drops in late August, bears get serious about eating salmon. They concentrate on the many, small salmon streams around the island, and for a short period of time, they tolerate each other, as they work to build their fat layer to prepare for hibernation. It seems as if overnight, they lose their ratty, light-brown summer coats and their even, chestnut fur shines in the sunlight. We see cubs that were tiny and dependent on their mother only three months earlier, catching their first salmon at their mother’s prompting. Older cubs have improved their fishing techniques and have learned to assert themselves with other bears (with mom to back them up, of course).

DSC_0168Another autumn perk for me is watching the young birds learn to fly, especially in our stiff, fall winds. From baby eagles to sea gulls to terns, watching young birds learn to maneuver in the wind always makes me smile. Then there’s the young foxes who’ve left their dens and sit on the beach, curiously watching us as we pass in our boat. By September, they are nearly the same size as an adult, but their coats are shiny, even, and perfect, betraying their youth.

Kodiak Island is wild and untamed and is beautiful any time of the year, and I guess autumn isn’t that bad, if you can get past the weather.

Mid-Summer 2015

Fin Whale, Humpback Whale, Kodiak Bear, Sea Otter, , , , , ,

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

Kodiak Bear, Kodiak Wildlife, Living in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, , ,

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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.