Tag Archives: Munsey’s Bear Camp

Winter

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I did not take the above photo this winter, I took it four years ago, the last time we had a cold winter on Kodiak Island. If I posted a photo from this winter, it would show torrential rain and heavy wind. I’m not complaining about a warm winter, because there is nothing fun about hauling water after the pipes freeze, and life takes a nosedive when the sewer freezes. The worst part about a cold winter here, though, is not the inconveniences of everyday life, but it’s watching the wildlife suffer as they struggle to find food and keep warm. Four years ago, we had deer die in our yard or die curled up under one of our buildings from cold and hunger several times a week. I knew when a deer was about to die because he’d look at me with glassy eyes and not even bother to move out of my way when I walked down the path past where he was standing. Sitka black-tailed deer were introduced to Kodiak Island, and the winter climate here is often on the edge of what they can tolerate to survive.

The deer have had good winters the last few years, and this may prove to be the warmest yet. When it is very cold, we have several deer in our yard, searching for grass that may still have some nutrients. This winter, we’ve seen few deer in our yard, because it is warm and there is no snow on the ground. It was 46⁰ the other day in mid-January, but the weather has not been pleasant this winter. We’ve been pounded by one low-pressure system after the next, bombarded by high winds and heavy rain. One storm out of the north in December slammed waves into our dock and sent a 55-gallon drum full of gas and two 100-lb. Propane tanks into the water. Mike has had to repair the dock twice from storms, but luckily, many of our storms have been from the south, and the cove where we live is protected from a southerly swell.

The ceaseless wind and rain make doing anything outdoors unpleasant, and the heavy clouds accentuate the already dark days. I love the peace and quiet here in the winter, but I am beginning to dream about going someplace sunny and calm and maybe even going out to dinner and a movie (I know, now I’m getting carried away). Luckily for me and my psyche, we are leaving on vacation next week!

While we are away, our friends, Ryan and Ruby, will be staying here, battling storms and catering to the whims of our very spoiled cats. Ryan and Ruby are the best caretakers we could ask for, and we don’t worry about our home while they are here. Our cats love them (possibly more than they love us!), so I know the furry little beasts will be even more spoiled when we return.

Once we leave here, we are flying straight to Las Vegas for extreme culture shock and a hunting and outdoor show, where we have a booth. That’s a week of hard work and stress because we go from talking to no one to talking to strangers all day. Vegas is also a great deal of fun, though, because we will see several friends and spend many hours laughing. After Vegas, we are flying to New Zealand for a two-week hiking, biking, kayaking tour of the South Island, and I am excited about that. I’ve never been to New Zealand, but I’ve only heard good things about the breathtaking scenery and the friendly people. After we return from New Zealand, we will spend some time in Anchorage and Kodiak, buying supplies and running errands. We’ll be home by mid-March.

I have a few posts planned for while I’m away, and my good friend, Marcia Messier, has agreed to write some guest posts for me. I’ll try to send a post from New Zealand to let you know about that adventure, but I may miss a post or two, so I’ll apologize in advance.

My next Mystery Newsletter will be about the biggest mass murder in Alaska history. Be sure to sign up on my home page if you want to receive my monthly newsletter.

 

 

 

Whale Behavior

This week, I want to take a closer look at whale behavior. Over the past few weeks, I’ve mentioned various behaviors, and while the reason for some behaviors seems obvious,others are not so easily explained.

Fin Whales
Fin Whales

Blowing or spouting: This is how whales breathe, so there is no mystery why whales blow. The spray of water is of course not from the whale’s lungs, but it is water that is blasted from the top of the blowhole when the whale exhales. What is interesting is that whales can sometimes be identified by their blow. If all I see is an exhalation and very little of the body, I can usually tell whether I’m looking at a humpback or a fin whale, the two most common whales in Uyak Bay. A fin whale’s blow is very tall and column-shaped while a humpback has a shorter, bushy blow.

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Fluking: Some species commonly raise their tail flukes in the air before a deep dive, and others do not. A humpback often raises its tail, while a fin whale seldom does. Why? I don’t know. Humpbacks are more acrobatic than fin whales, and this may have something to do with it.

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Breaching: This is when a whale propels its body upwards until at least 40% of it is clear ofDSC_0077 (2) the water. Adult blue whales rarely, if ever, breach, because they are too heavy. Fin whales are also very heavy and rarely breach, but when they do, it’s impressive! Humpbacks breach fairly often, and like most large whales, a humpback breaches by raising 90% of its body clear of the water surface and then twisting and crashing down with a large smack and a torrent of spray. Killer whales are capable of acrobatic leaps and somersaults. Scientists have offered many explanations as to why

Minke Whale
Minke Whale

whales breach, and it is probable they breach for a variety of reasons, including mating display, annoyance, aggression, a show of strength, a means of stunning prey, or removing parasites. I suspect one of the main reasons whales breach is because it’s fun. Wouldn’t you do that if you could?

 

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Slapping: This category includes flipper slapping, tail slapping, dorsal fin slapping, DSC_0650lobtailing or tail lobbing, and head slapping. Possible explanations for this behavior include a display, aggression, communication, or a means of stunning prey. Humpbacks often lobtail and flipper slap, and both actions make a very loud noise, so it would be an DSC_0642effective means of communication.

 

 

Spyhopping: This is simply when a whale sticks its head out of the water and

Photo by Bob Munsey
Photo by Bob Munsey

looks around. By doing this, it can locate a passing vessel or find escape holes or channels in pack ice. Whales may also spyhop to look at people on a boat. Since visibility is better in air than it is in water, it only makes sense that a whale might want to stick its head out of the water to get a better look.

 

DSC_0072Flipper Waving: Whales sometimes float on their backs and wave their fins in the air. No one knows why, but it looks fun.

Sleeping: One of our brilliant summer guests (I’m talking about you, Karin!) asked me how whales sleep. I was embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know, so I checked and was quite surprised by the answer. Since whales are mammals, they must breathe air, so how do they sleep without drowning? Research has shown that they either sleep while swimming slowly next to another animal, or they rest vertically or horizontally in the water. Scientists believe that when a whale or dolphin sleeps, it shuts down only half of its brain, and the other half stay awake. The side that is awake watches for predators or other dangers and also signals the animal to rise to the surface and take a breath of air every few minutes. After approximately two hours, the whale shuts down the active portion of its brain and the other side wakes up and takes over.  To read more about this amazing behavior, check out this article.

Photo by Bob Munsey
Photo by Bob Munsey

There are many other whale behaviors, including feeding behaviors that I did not cover here. If you have any questions, please ask. Also, if you love mysteries, sign up for my monthly Mystery Newsletter. I am currently working on the first issue, and I apologize to those of you who have already signed up for it. It is taking me longer than I anticipated to get the first installment ready to go.

 

Killer Whales

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Killer whales (or orcas) are not really whales but are the largest members of the dolphin family, Delphinidae. With their brilliant black and white markings, they are easy to identify and distinguish from other whales. Killer whales exhibit sexual dimorphism, meaning males and females look very different from each other. Adult males in the North Pacific may grow to a length of 27 ft. (8.2 m) and weigh as much as 13,300 lbs. (6,000 kg), while females grow to an average length of 23 ft. (7 m) and weigh about half as much as a large male. Also, a male’s dorsal fin may reach 6 ft. (2 m) in height, while a female’s rarely exceeds 3 ft (1 m).

Photo by Bob Munsey
Photo by Bob Munsey

Killer whales are mostly black on their dorsal surface and white on their ventral surface. They have an elliptical white patch on the lateral side of each eye and large white patches that extend from the ventral surface onto the flanks. There is a usually a gray or white saddle area behind the dorsal fin, and this marking varies from one individual to the next, making it useful for identification.

Killer whales are second only to humans as the most widely-distributed species of mammal. They can be found in all oceans and most seas, but they are most common in coastal, temperate waters. They are apex predators and prey on a variety of vertebrates and invertebrates. They are known to prey upon over 140 species, and they are the only cetaceans that routinely prey upon marine mammals, with documented attacks on 50 different species.

Orcas in Amook PassIn the northeastern Pacific, three distinct ecotypes of killer whales have been identified. Resident killer whales mainly eat fish, while transients concentrate on marine mammals. The third type known as offshores have not been well studied, but it is thought they primarily feed on fish, including sharks. All three types are genetically distinct, suggesting there is little or no breeding between the types, and it is possible they should be considered separate subspecies. There are differences in size, coloration and physical appearance between the three types, as well as differences in hunting strategies. Transients forage in smaller groups than residents, and transients travel silently when hunting, while residents produce a variety of clicks, whistles, and pulsed calls for echolocation.  Killer whale populations in other regions of the world may also specialize in their feeding habits, but more research is needed to be certain. Killer whales often work together to catch fish or marine mammals, and when preying on large animals such as whales, they may attack as a pack, tearing apart the whale from several angles.DSC_0155

Killer whales are very social and usually travel in groups or pods of up to 20 individuals, and members of a pod are linked to each other by maternal descent. Females become sexually mature at 15 years of age on average, and they may give birth at intervals of three to eight years. Killer whales can breed all year, and the gestation period averages 17 months. Whales in a pod often work together to care for the young, and young females will help mothers care for their babies. It has been estimated that males live at least 50 years on average, while females may live 80 years.

Killer whales are highly vocal and use sound for socialization as well as for echolocation.Scientists have learned that call repertoires of resident pods have features that are distinct to that pod, forming group-specific dialects. A second pod may share some of the call repertoire of the first pod, but other sections will be distinct to the second pod.   The amount of similarity of call repertoires between pods reflects the degree of

Photo by Bob Munsey
Photo by Bob Munsey

relatedness between the pods. Killer whales socialize in a number of other ways too, including acrobatic aerial behaviors, such as breaches, spy hops, flipper slaps, tail lobs,and head stands. I’ll discuss more about these various behaviors next week.

Killer whales are always a treat to watch. We only see them a few times a year deep inside Uyak Bay, and it is always exciting. I’ve seen a large group of killer whales herding fish, a small pod trying to catch harbor seals hauled out on an island, and one killer whale with a large octopus in its mouth. Sometimes they want nothing to do with us, and other times, they swim alongside our boat leaping out of the water and diving beneath us. This summer we saw a large bull swimming by himself in water so shallow he couldn’t submerge his tall dorsal fin. He was in an area near a salmon stream, and we assumed he was feeding on salmon.

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Have you had any experiences with killer whales? If so, please leave a comment to tell us about it. Also, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, and for anyone who is a lover of true crime stories, please visit my home page and sign up for my monthly Mystery Newsletter!

Family Balaenopteridae: The Rorqual Whales

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Members of the whale family Balaenopteridae are known as the Rorqual whales. “Rorqual” is a Norwegian term that means “furrow whale,” referring to the throat grooves found in all species in this family. These grooves extend from underneath the lower jaw back to at least the pectoral flippers and are folds of skin and blubber. When a rorqual feeds, it lunges forward at high-speed, and these grooves expand, filling the mouth with a huge amount of water and prey. When the whale closes its mouth, it uses its tongue to strain the water through the baleen plates, trapping small fish and zooplankton. In addition to throat grooves, the other characteristic common to all rorquals is a dorsal fin.

With the exception of the minke whale, all rorquals are very large, but they are also streamlined and capable of swimming at incredible speeds. Most of the whales in this group have similar body shapes and fin shapes and placements, sometimes making it difficult to distinguish one species from another. At a distance, a small blue whale looks much like a fin whale, and unless you are close enough to see the lower jaw, a small fin whale and a large sei are identical in appearance. Humpback whales with their long pectoral fins are usually easy to differentiate from other rorqual species, and minke whales are much smaller than any other species in the family Balaenopteridae. Rorquals have flattened heads and two, centrally-located blowholes. The dorsal fin is located approximately one-third of the body length forward from the fluke notch, and the tail flukes are large and wide.

In this post, I will briefly cover blue whales, fin whales, sei whales, and minke whales, and next week, my post will be about humpback whales. The reason why I’m dividing it up like this is that there is far more information about humpbacks than there is about the other species in this family. While it is known that most rorquals feed in high latitudes during the summer and breed and give birth during the winter in temperate or tropical latitudes, biologists do not know how far they migrate and what percentage of the population migrates. We see fin whales and even humpbacks all winter here on Kodiak Island, so it is clear that not all individuals migrate every year.

Blue whales are the largest animals to have ever lived on earth. Females may reach 90 ft. (28 m) in length. They are a mottled bluish gray and streamlined with a broad, rounded head, long, slim flippers, and a very small dorsal fin that is located so far back toward the flukes that it is usually only seen when they are about to begin a dive. They have broad, triangular flukes are only slightly notched, and their baleen is solid black. I have never seen a blue whale, because they are usually far off shore in deep water near the continental shelf. They are rarely seen in the bays around Kodiak Island, but in the summer, they can be found in the Gulf of Alaska and the Bering Sea. I think it is interesting that the largest animal on the planet dines on one of the smallest animals. Blue whales primarily eat euphausiids, small shrimp-like organisms that are commonly called krill.

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Fin whales are the second-largest species of whale. An average adult female fin whale is 73 ft. (22 m) in length, while an average male is 70 ft. (21 m). A fin whale’s upper jaw is V-shaped and flat on the top, and it has a distinct ridge on its back that extends from the dorsal fin to the tail fluke. Its dorsal fin is up to two feet tall and is curved with a steep backward angle and a blunt tip. The flukes are broad and triangular with pointed tips and a central notch. A fin whale has a light gray to brownish-black back and sides, with two lighter-colored chevrons that begin behind the blowholes and slant down the sides toward the fluke and then swirl up and end behind the eye. The undersides of the body, flippers, and fluke are white. The left lower jaw of a fin whale is dark gray, but the right lower jaw is white, and this asymmetrical coloration extends to the baleen plates. Scientists think this asymmetrical jaw color may somehow aid fin whales in capturing prey. If seen up close, the right lower jaw of a fin whale clearly distinguishes it from a blue or sei whale. Fin and blue whales produce the loudest biological sounds in the ocean, and recent research on fin whales shows that only males produce these vocalizations. The sounds are simple and consist of low-frequency moans and grunts and high-frequency pulses. Scientists suspect that males emit these sounds to attract females from great distances, and they worry that sounds from commercial ships, military sonar, seismic surveys, and ocean acoustic research may reduce the distance over which receptive females can hear the vocalizations of males.

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Of all the large whales, perhaps the least is known about sei (pronounced say) whales. In the southern part of their range sei whales coexist with Bryde’s whales, and until the early 1900s, they were considered the same species. The name “sei” comes from the Norwegian word “seje”, which means pollock, because sei whales appeared off the coast of Norway each year at the same time large schools of pollock arrived to feed on the abundant plankton. Sei whales are sleek and streamlined, and are one of the fastest swimming baleen whales, reaching speeds of 22 mph. They may reach a length of 65 ft. (20 m), but a length of 54 to 55 ft. (3.7 to 16.8 m) and a weight of 14 to 17 tons is more typical. Sei whales have a dark bluish-gray body with white on the ventral surface. The flukes and flippers are dark on both the dorsal and ventral surfaces. The snout is pointed, and there is a single prominent rostral ridge running from the blowholes to the snout. The dorsal fin is tall and curved, and the baleen is uniformly ashy black with fine, silky fringes. Sei whales normally feed near the surface, and they are primarily skimmers instead of gulpers like blue and fin whales. Small copepods are their preferred food, although they will also eat other zooplankton and small fish.

Minke Whale
Minke Whale

 

Minke whales are the smallest of the rorquals. Males average 26 ft. (8 m), and females average 27 ft.(8.2 m). Both males and females weigh approximately 10 tons. The story is that the minke (pronounced mink-ey) whale was named after a Norwegian whale spotter named Meincke, who mistakenly identified a small minke whale as a blue whale, the largest of all whales. Minke whales have a very narrow, pointed jaw, a single ridge that runs from the tip of the jaw to the blowhole, and a dorsal fin that is tall and curved. The flippers are slender and pointed at the tips, and the flukes are broad, pointed, and notched in the center. The body is dark gray on the back and white on the ventral surface. There is a distinctive white band on each flipper, and the extent and orientation of the band varies between individuals. The baleen is yellowish-white. Minke whales have an inconspicuous blow that is often hard to spot in the ocean, but they do occasionally breach, and you can see the white fin band on the fin of the breaching minke in the above photo.

My post next week will be about the most famous member of the rorqual family, the humpback whale. Please let me know if you have any questions or would like to add anything to these posts.

For those of you who are mystery lovers, please visit my home page and sign up for my monthly Mystery Newsletter.

December Bear

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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!

Autumn 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.

The List

Grocery Delivery
Grocery Delivery

“The List”is another guest post by Marcia Messier.  In case you missed her earlier posts, Marcia cooked at Munsey’s Bear Camp from 2003 to 2011 and has written some wonderful stories about her experiences.  Marcia, Pat Munsey, and I are working on a cookbook, and Marcia’s stories will be included in that.

One of the toughest things to learn as a cook at a wilderness lodge is to plan ahead on groceries and to be flexible.   During our summer trips, I e-mail the grocery order to the store, they fill it for us, and we receive the groceries on the plane with our next group of guests.  Even when we do a perfect job of remembering everything we need, the grocery store may be out of something, or they may misunderstand what we want and replace it with what they think we want.  For example, this summer we received our groceries, but there were no eggs.  We checked the note from the store, and in neat hand writing beside my order of eggs, was the message that eggs were out of stock.  I assure you, it is not easy to substitute for eggs, so Mary, our current cook, went into “creativity mode,” and I am certain none of our guests were any the wiser.  Another example of adventures in e-mail grocery ordering was when Marcia cooked for us, and she asked me to order malted-milk balls, because she had a cookie recipe that called for them.  When the order arrived, we were surprised to see that they sent us moth balls instead of malted-milk balls.

I think Marcia does a beautiful job summing up the never-ending adventure of ordering groceries in the Alaskan wilderness.

The List

by Marcia Messier

A major grocery store has never been more than 10 minutes from my home.  If the egg or bread supply is low, no problem, jump in the car and go to the store.

Robin taught me about planning ahead and “The List”.  It was simple, notice when an item was low and write it down. Plan the weekly meals and make sure you can cover them. Groceries came from Kodiak on a float plane along with the guests, once a week, as long as the weather was flyable.  If the grocery store in Kodiak didn’t have what was on the List, we didn’t get it, or we got some strange, useless replacement item.  If produce was wilted and old, we got wilted and old, or none at all.  I remember a young man who filled our orders at the grocery store in Kodiak one summer.  I vowed when I got back to town, I would track him down, and I would speak to him about how his inattention to our List……made me a better cook!

There were instances, however, due to my own inattention, that I forgot to write items on the list and we had to do without that item until the next plane….for instance, eggs and bread!  To my surprise, guests seemed to like sausage gravy and biscuits, piles of pancakes, apple crisp, potatoes, beans and breakfast meats.  No one seemed to notice (or were too polite to mention) the absence of eggs on the table.  At lunch, Focaccia bread sandwiches were wildly popular as a substitute for sliced store bread, when I failed to notice every last loaf in the freezer was gone.  Maybe that had something to do with fish taking over my corner of the freezer…maybe not.

Now, once in a while there was something beyond my control that upset the menu.  Something got into the soup?  Open a few cans of canned soup and throw in a few odd spices…exotic!  Veggies all torn up from a rough ride in the plane?  Open a few cans of green beans and make a casserole…yum!  Salad boring?  Cold canned carrots and sliced onions in a vinegar dressing….surprisingly tasty!

Our guests were always happy and had a big appetites after being out on the water all day fishing and bear viewing with Robin and Mike.  At the end of the day this made me happy too, and the List was forgotten, until tomorrow.

 

Living in the Kodiak Wilderness

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Living in the Kodiak wilderness is not a lifestyle most people would choose. Over the years, many of my high-school and college friends have visited me here, and some say to me, “You are so lucky! I’d love to live here!” Others, though, give me a bewildered look and ask, “How can you stand to live out here all by yourselves?”  A few of my friends even seem to pity me, which amuses me, since I think I am lucky to live and work in the wilderness. People either tend to romanticize a peaceful life away from civilization, or they picture it as a type of prison. From my perspective, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

Living in the wilderness is much easier today than it was even fifteen years ago. We no longer have to depend on spotty radio signals to communicate with Kodiak, as we did when I first moved here. We have a satellite phone, satellite internet, even satellite television. We are fortunate to receive essential air service once a week in the winter that brings us our mail, freight and groceries. When I need to order something from the grocery store, I simply e-mail my order to the store, they fill it, deliver it to the airlines, and we receive it on our next mail flight.

Munsey's Bear Camp
Munsey’s Bear Camp

The scenery on the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge is spectacular during every season, and we often have deer, eagles, and foxes in our yard, and whales, seals, sea otters, and sometimes sea lions in the cove in front of our house. The quiet is complete, especially in the winter, and I don’t miss the hustle and bustle of the holidays. We work hard from April through November, so those peaceful, winter days are a nice change of pace, and should the mood strike me, I can always spend a day shopping on the internet.

 

Living in the wilderness does have its drawbacks, though, and this life isn’t always easy. I miss having close friends, and most of the friends I do have, can’t relate to my lifestyle. I miss attending concerts, plays, movies, and other cultural events, and I definitely miss going out to dinner. My husband, Mike, grew up in the wilderness, and he said the hardest part as a kid was the lack of friends and the social awkwardness he and his siblings felt when they did go to town and were around other children.

From a practical standpoint, you must be a jack of all trades if you live in the wilderness. From fixing our outboard to our computer, if we can’t figure out how to do it, we’re out of luck, at least until we can get the broken item to a repairman in town. If it breaks, we either have to fix it or buy a new one. If our internet goes out, we’ve lost our main source of communication, including the internet provider who could help us fix the problem. Calling help lines on a satellite phone is expensive and frustrating, since the call is often dropped before we can talk to a live human.

Frozen Stream
Frozen Stream

We are also on our own if we have a fire or need immediate help from law enforcement. The troopers will arrive eventually, but they are a long distance away and can’t provide immediate support. We can call the Coast Guard if we have a serious injury or a medical emergency, but again, it takes time for them to deploy and get to us, so we make sure we have the knowledge, training, and equipment to deal with most medical emergencies. You can’t depend on others when you choose to live so far away from civilization.

It is often frustrating to me that the rest of the world doesn’t understand where or how I live. Try ordering something without a street address! We receive a mail plane once a week, and the post office has issued us a postal code that even they do not recognize. I am constantly trying to convince online stores that I will receive their merchandise if they mail it to the address I have provided. Some tell me I’m wrong, my address does not exist, and they will not ship to it. We even run into problems with businesses and doctors in Kodiak. I once spent $1000 on a trip to town for a blood test that could have easily been ordered during my doctor’s visit the previous week. It is also frustrating to make an appointment months in advance only to have to cancel it at the last minute, because the weather is too bad to fly to town.

There are pros and cons to living in the wilderness, just as there are pros and cons to living anywhere. Our lifestyle is different, but for the most part, I enjoy it. I love welcoming people during our summer trips and showing them around our world. Many are anxious when they first arrive, unsure of what to expect, and it’s fun to watch them relax as they leave the problems of the outside world behind them and become in tune with the rhythms of our world. I know living in the remote wilderness of Kodiak Island is not a lifestyle most people would embrace, but that’s one of the reasons it’s so special to me.

 

Kodiak Time

Kodiak Time is another guest blog by Marcia Messier. I think she perfectly captures the transformation new guests make when they arrive at our lodge in the wilderness. At first, they are often dismayed that they won’t be able to use their cell phones or watch youtube videos, but over the course of the next five days, we watch them relax as they unplug from their lives and embrace our lifestyle, if only for a short while.

Kodiak Time

by Marcia Messier

100_1092 Faces of newly arrived guests charmed me. Stepping down from the float plane “first timers” were usually a bit shy and taken aback by the rugged beauty they were witnessing and the adventure at hand. Their eyes were big! Returning guests had a knowing grin, a twinkle in their eyes and a familiarity with camp. Introductions were made, they were shown to their cabins, and soon all were back in the main lodge, gathered around the table for lunch. Mike explained the plans for the week, fishing, hiking, meeting the bears, and how camp operated. He answered the many questions knowledgeably and reassuringly. Ready to go!

There are no roads in this part of Kodiak Island and so no automobiles, there is no cell phone service in camp, no land lines, no TV, no ice machines, and limited internet service. Guests were now on “Kodiak Time”.

Most guests experienced a very new and different environment at Munsey’s Bear Camp. They were enchanted by the bears they met, excited by the fish they caught, stunned by the rugged beauty of the island. The week went by too quickly and soon it was time to go. But, once in a while guests got an extra day in camp. Weather can change quickly, clear and beautiful one day, a raging storm might blow in the next. Invariably, a “no fly” day happened once or twice during the summer season. Travel plans were fouled and people got nervous.   We all had to stop and take a deep breath, because after all, we were on “Kodiak Time”.

The table in the lodge was cleared for games, stories were swapped, snacks brought out, 100_0320and even naps were taken. During this unplanned time on Kodiak, guests realized that they’d had an adventure of a lifetime and also acquired a roomful of new friends….perfect!

 

Mid-Summer 2015

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

DSC_4021

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.