Many of our past travelers regularly turn to us for all of their global travel planning needs as they know they will receive the same expertise, attention to detail and highly personalized service they’ve come to expect and love from Africa Adventure Consultants. It is with that in mind that we proudly offer our Out of Africa travel portfolio. AAC Senior Journey Specialist Tracy visited Canada where she had the rare privilege of ‘walking among giants’ – polar bears. She joins us on the blog to share her experiences.
Contrary to urban legend, the Inuit have only a dozen words for snow including crystalline snow, snow falling, snow on the ground and ice (freshwater and saltwater). As we headed out of the cozy lodge on our final day in the Arctic, we had seen them all. We had also seen polar bears, wolves, moose, arctic hares, arctic and red foxes, ptarmigans galore and a solitary pine martin, smaller than a housecat, careening toward us hell bent for leather.
Did I mention the polar bears? Great lumbering polar bears with feet the size of baseball mitts some 12 inches across, the big boys weighing more than 1,000lbs and standing ten feet tall on their hind legs. I’m half their height, my feet aren’t dainty but nobody’s mistaken them for dinner plates and I’m not disclosing my weight except to say the winter gear has added a few pounds. I’m also like Bambi on the sea ice and a fluffy apex predator with soulful eyes padding slowly toward me was beyond imaging. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It all started with a very civilized flight to Winnipeg. My remarkable 80-something-year-old Mom and I stayed overnight at an airport hotel so our partners on the ground could kit us out for our polar adventure. We were equipped with huge orange $1,500 parkas (no keepsies!), black insulated bib pants and padded polar boots that are lighter than they look. Over dinner with our fellow travelers, it quickly became clear we all came for the same reason: to see Arctic wildlife and to walk among giants.
The next day we flew via charter flight from Winnipeg to Churchill, a small town which hosts tens of thousands of tourists from July to October to view the bears, mostly from gigantic tundra buggies with tons of plastic, rubber and metal forging an impassable barrier between them and nature. They’re the monster trucks of the frozen north. I was happy to get on the 70-minute charter flight to our lodge with the immense icebound Hudson Bay on one side and Canada’s boreal forest on the other, more than 100 miles from the nearest road. This was the winter wonderland I imagined: a roaring fire, a great room clad in warm pine with comfy leather couches, great food and good company on the edge of the Arctic.
After introductions to the lodge team and our guides, we had a no-nonsense briefing. While we’ll use “rhinos” (custom-made, open trailers with seats pulled by ATVs) to get around, wildlife approaches are done on foot. Our partners have spent decades safely walking guests in polar bear territory and we won’t be allowed to ruin their track record. Lunch brings the first of many polar bear encounters: two young males play-fighting in front of the lodge next to the runway.
Bundled up and unrecognizable with hand warmers in our gloves and foot warmers in our boots, we piled into the rhinos. Our destination was a few miles down the coast where we set a trail cam for a citizen science project studying the local wolf packs. The wolves here are bigger than most grey wolves, possibly a subspecies. They’re majestic and have never been hunted. On the way, pure white ptarmigans flapped as we approached and a russet-red fox darted across a frozen river. We stopped to watch a mother polar bear, her year-old cub and several other bears a few hundred feet out on the sea ice where they would spend the winter hunting seals.
In a clearing, we got out for hot cocoa and trail cam instruction. While we milled around with drinks in hand, one of the guides whisper-yelled, “Don’t move!” Out of the willows came five grey wolves. They circled us and breathed us in, cautious but self-assured and unafraid. We were in their house. One female walked back and forth staring at me—we made eye contact and I almost felt compelled to reach out to her. In less than a minute, the lead male trotted off and the rest of the pack followed. We waited a beat and then even the seasoned guides and two guests on their 31st trip squealed like children. I began weeping and someone hugged me. This wildness, this connection – it’s why I came.
We had more days of morning and afternoon forays along the shoreline. We grew accustomed to the wild beauty and started calling the beautiful ptarmigans “arctic chickens.” A pure white arctic hare darted among the shrubs, prey for the snowy owl winging silently through the trees. A pine martin—stuffed animal cute— bravely ran at us at full speed and then disappeared. In the woods we saw moose with huge antlers like old-growth trees. We set more trail cams but don’t meet our wolf pack again. In a way, it makes that singular encounter more magical. In the mornings, polar bears come up to the lodge’s fence, noses high in the air as the rich scent of breakfast bacon wafts through the air. Before dinner, the guides gave animated talks about the wolves, the bears, First Nations wisdom and the secrets of the Arctic. A staff member always stayed awake on aurora watch.
On average, the sea ice freezes a bit later each year but the polar bears in western Hudson Bay are still thriving. They lived through the last ice age and subsequent warming so I wouldn’t bet against them just yet. Along the Seal River, they’ve adapted by eating juvenile beluga whales in summer. We were shown a video shot by a guest at the company’s other lodge showing polar bears perched on rocks in the water. When they spy one that’s right-sized, they launch themselves onto the beluga, all claws and jaws, for a blubbery feast.
With that image fresh in my mind, the next morning we took the rhinos onto the sea ice. It was a spectacular day with nothing but blue sky, frozen white sea and stillness. We dismounted to check out a shipwreck from decades past jutting out of its icy grave. There are polar bears in the distance, just right to capture with a 500mm lens. A beefy male sauntered toward us. Like his kin, he’s not truly white, more potato chip colored. In the past few days, I learned why this bear is perfectly adapted to his environment: he has bumpy footpads for traction, two-inch claws to catch and hold slippery prey, hollow-core hairs to forward scatter light between his underfur and skin, up to four inches of fat to maintain his core temperature and 34-42 teeth to eat me (though my guides wouldn’t let that happen!).
We followed directions and formed a line behind the guides who stood halfway between us and the bear. They carry guns on these excursions but have never fired them; instead, they use noise to deter an animal who lives in a silent world. I found myself utterly thrilled as the bear ambled in, my blood pounding in my ears. He was magnificent! Every guard hair on his forelegs glistened as he closed the distance to 120 feet. The guides banged rocks together and he faltered. They began shouting, telling him today was not his day. At 80 feet, he stopped in his tracks. I took pictures of him walking away, offended by the ruckus, his thick white rump rolling back to the wordless ice.
I’m a fortunate soul even without the orange parka. I’ve traveled all over the world, slept in hotels with actual gold faucets and fly-camps under the African sky. I know special when I see it. So, I’m already plotting a return trip to the land of the ice bear, this time to see the females emerge from their dens, cubs in tow. Until then, I’m counting the days and stockpiling hand warmers.
Arctic safaris with polar bears, wolves, beluga whales, black bears, moose, northern lights and more are ideal for single travelers, families (the minimum age is eight) and couples who want to join an exceptional small group experience.
To plan your own Arctic safari, contact one of our Journey Specialists and sign up for the newsletter below for more safari inspiration and stories.
Photos courtesy AAC Senior Journey Specialist Tracy Stevens