Fur and Feathers Journals 2024, Entry No. Three, Ronnie Tries to Keep Me from Peril

Entry No. Three

Ronnie Tries to Keep Me from Peril

You know how far it is to get help?” says Ronnie, our co-host at Shelter Creek tent camp.   “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“I know,”   I reply.   “I don’t want to get hurt either, but we can get closer.  We can get a lot closer.”

 

Ronnie eyes the Coastal brown bear ahead of us on the beach of Cook Inlet.  “But….”

A few minutes earlier, game-spotter Karl signaled to us that he saw a bear on the beach.  We trudged over and there’s medium-sized bear digging clams.

 

We are so far away the bear looks like a tiny black spot in our  long lenses.

Using all 500mm of my big lens and not cropped so the bear was much farther than it appears in this photo.

 

“Ronnie, I know the bears around here might not be as habituated as the bears farther up the coast at Silver Salmon Creek, but that bear is relaxed.   Look at its ears.   They aren’t laid back.”

 

The bear continued to dig razor clams as we slowly approach.   

 

“It takes a long time to get medical help, especially when the weather’s bad.” Ronnie says.

 

I smile, but don’t let Ronnie see it.   I felt the same way the first time I came over here and Rick Collins led us to these dangerous creatures.

 

 

As always, we pause for an “insurance shot.”   Just in case we never get anything more opportunities, it’s our safety photo.

“Okay, let’s not approach it directly.   Walk toward the water.   That way, the bear has a clear escape route to the forest.”  Don’t I sound like a bear guide?   I laugh to myself and imagine I’m channeling former guide Rick , the best bear guide I know.

 

We slowly get closer.  I’m thinking not only bear safety but also photo angles and background, direction of the sun, and composition.

 

The bear continues digging clams.   We are still a long way away.

 

Ronnie is darned near apoplectic by the time I stop. He’s right behind my shoulder, murmuring in my ear about getting hurt.   We are still about 70 feet away and I know we can safely approach, but I stop.  Ronnie’s our cook. Can’t have the cook disabled by nervous naufragii.

 

In Ronnie’s defense, this is his first time as a host at bear camp.   Alicia and I have been to Silver Salmon Creek lodge several times.   Eddie is also a first-timer here but I’m not sure he believes the stories I told him.

Love it when the sun turns the hide golden.

The bear’s ears are at the right attitude, the hackles aren’t standing up, and—best of all—it continues digging for clams.

 

It glances at us occasionally, but for the most part just goes about its business.  Many, many generations of Coastal brown bears have lived here and they are accustomed to humans.    “Habituated"  the correct word.

 

I have seen sows lie down on their backs and nurse their cubs not 30 feet from me!  They are most vulnerable to attack in that position. I have seen them send their cubs up a tree near us and leave us to babysit the cubs.   A friend who used to setnet for salmon here told many stories of bears that trusted him with their cubs.  The sows know the boars won’t come close when humans are there.

 

I wouldn’t try this with any other bears in any other location.   They are still wild and dangerous and unpredictable.   But here?   Bear manners above all.   Don’t walk in front of them.   Keep the group close together to appear large.   Don’t crowd them, don’t move quickly, don’t run, stay quiet.   Even if they walk straight toward you, stay calm and they won’t bother you.  Stay extra vigilant with boars, but with such hairy coats, who can tell?

 

Several times I’ve had these bears walk within five or six feet of me.

 

I watch Eddie crouching low to get a great angle with his camera.   I’d be down there, too, but it would take all three of them to get me back upright.

I'm really happy that Eddie is getting his shots.   Sitting in camp while Karl watches for bears is entirely different method than what we have coming up when we go to the main lodge.

Incoming tide.

 

The tide’s coming in and soon the bear must leave.   So will we.

Kelp in the sand.

We trudge back to camp for a lunch of bratwurst.   Ronnie has returned to normal.

 

Karl goes out on the gravel bar with his book and chair.

 

 

See Silver Salmon Creek along the right coast just above  "Cook Inlet ?"   We are south of there around the knob  of land.