Susan's Spot: Bear Boating

December 1995 - January 1996

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by Susan Noppe

Local inhabitant checks out visitors for treats

One often hears of areas that have a "bear problem" when it seems that the bears really have no problem at all, it's the people that have the problem.

With very little true wilderness left, we're usually dealing with bears that have encountered humans before and one never really knows what the bear has learned.

Perhaps they've learned that people mean food, coolers mean food and recently I know of one out there who now knows kayaks mean food.

It was a beautiful sunny day on the west coast of Nootka Island. Six of us were enjoying our lunch at Benson Point when one of our group uttered, "Bear. There," in one of the most monotone and calmly shocked voices I've heard. I revolved around slowly to see a smallish black bear sauntering directly towards our kayaks near the ocean's edge not 20 metres away. The bear had obviously walked right through out little encampment of tents on the small bluff above us and with little more than the odd sideways glance at us inspected a couple of the kayaks before clumsily bopping off the unfastened front hatch cover of the boat which our lunch had just come out of.

We stood as a group talking softly, waiting to see what it would do.

This bear was no shy creature. Not like the ones I've encountered when off-trail hiking that seem just as startled as me and beat a fast retreat. The bear made a few swipes inside the hatch, captured something with its claws and then placing it in his mouth sauntered back up the bluff and away into the forest. Its prize? A large plastic bag filled with several packages of drink crystals. I'm sure he's still on a sugar high now.

Handing out pots, lids and wooden spoons we asked everyone on our guided trip to beat their drums, sing and get their tents and toys into their kayaks. We were leaving.

Our four customers from San Francisco, two of whom had never slept in a tent until a couple of nights prior, had been taking an average of two hours to break camp and pack their boats. Thirty minutes after "Bear. There," they all sat floating in their kayaks with still slightly widened eyes about fifty metres offshore.

We set off westward into some wonderful rolling swell and past shy sea otters eating off their chests. After an hour of paddling we landed on a small island where there definitely were no animals larger than us. But I felt guilty. Maybe the bear had already learned about food and kayaks but now he knows it for sure. I was also somewhat angry.

Angry at the people who had a permanent fishing camp set up at this site all summer and obviously did little to keep it clean. I haven't met them but on the two trips I made to Nootka this summer both times we cleaned their mess up. Cleaned out beer bottles, cigarette butts, half-burnt food and other garbage out of their ridiculously large fire pit, broke up their pit and carted the ashes down to the sea. Surely at the sound of human voices our friend the bear was thinking, "Right on, lunch time." A bear that's found food at a particular site will keep checking that site for years to come, just in case.

Had we done anything wrong? Not really. We were a group of people close to our boats and tents making a fair amount of noise with our talk and laughter.

That's normally enough to keep wild animals away. Unless they're not so wild anymore, unless they've had a taste of our calorie rich concoctions. What can you do in that case?

Unfortunately, the only answer is to not go there. Unless of course you're not planning on having food anywhere but strung up high between trees which is pretty impossible if you're ever planning on eating.

One way you can ensure that you're not going to have unexpected bear encounters while kayaking, or inadvertently turn your lunch into theirs, is to camp on small islands.

Since this is not always a possibility, if you suspect that there are bears in the area, hang your food at night at least four metres off the ground in your dry bags and well away from the tree trunk. You can accomplish this by tying your hanging rope to something you can throw over a branch such as a pot handle or a small dry bag suitably weighted. Check your site for evidence of bears before setting up camp. Walk along the forest edge and look for tracks, scat and claw marks on the trees while talking or singing. Keep in mind that bears often use drainages and creeks as travel corridors so although they're great for collecting water they're not always the best places to hang out. Also avoid sites that look like they haven't been habitually kept clean by visitors.

We all have to do our part to not spoil wild animals and thus ruin more of our favourite recreation areas. We've seen it and heard it a hundred times since we were little children, maybe one more time won't hurt. Please don't feed the animals.

Susan Noppe is an outdoor writer and a regular WaveLength columnist