Polar bear the star among wild five in Manitoba, Canada
On a safari to see the wild five of Manitoba, Canada, one animal shines above all others.
It’s a jungle down there beneath the surface of Canada’s Hudson Bay. Dozens of beluga whales are screeching, squawking and chirping like an Amazon aviary on steroids. The captain of our tour boat has lowered a hydrophone into the water and is broadcasting the cacophony of beluga calls through a speaker. It’s no wonder these cetaceans are known as the “canaries of the sea”.
We are captivated by their complex vocal performance, which includes not only song but dance too. All around us, the dazzling white arcs of the belugas’ backs roll out and into the water with rhythmical grace, catching the late afternoon sunshine as they punctuate the air with blowhole bursts. They approach the side of the boat, submerged like pale green torpedos, before ducking deeper and emerging on the other side. They bob alongside us and hang at the stern; they seem as fascinated by us as we are by them.
Each northern summer, more than 3000 of the world’s only species of white whale, with its strange melon-shaped head, converge on Hudson Bay and the estuarine waters of the Churchill River. They visit from June to August to bask in the relative warmth after spending the winter further north, and to gorge on the abundant fish. Most importantly, the females come to give birth. Born a pinky-orange colour, the little calves turn grey within a couple of days and are easy to spot clinging close to their mothers.
But belugas aren’t the only large white mammal luring visitors to the remote north Manitoba town of Churchill, population 900. Polar bears are the star attraction here. These magnificent predators spend the winter hunting on the sea ice far up into the Arctic. In the spring, they feast on seal pups, filling their bellies and widening their already impressive girths. As the ice thaws in June-July, the bears have no choice but to come ashore. Ocean and wind currents bring many to Churchill, where they embark on a “walking hibernation”, roaming the coast and hinterland, eating sparingly when food presents itself — kelp, berries, goose eggs — and sleeping, a lot. In autumn, the region becomes a staging yard for the bears, which spar for mates while waiting for the sea ice to form again so they can head back to their winter hunting grounds.
Canadian tour operator Frontiers North has been bringing wildlife enthusiasts to Churchill for more than 30 years. The company’s Big Five Safari borrows the term synonymous with Africa and plonks it in Manitoba, a province dominated by prairies in the south, forests and tundra in the north and a whole lot of water; more than 100,000 lakes cover 16 per cent of the state.
The famous five here are moose, bison, black bears, beluga whales and polar bears. Our quest to see them all begins in Riding Mountain National Park, about two hours’ drive from the capital, Winnipeg. At the park’s heritage-listed east gate, we meet the first in a cast of enigmatic characters who toss us tales of their wild adventures from a stockpile deeper than Hudson Bay.
Biologist Ian Thorleifson, 67, has ruddy cheeks that speak of his many years spent in the freezing winters up north, where the average January temperature is minus 24C. He estimates he helped trap 450 polar bears during his time studying the animals. These days, when not tour-guiding, he farms elk and bison. Wiry 70-year-old biologist Pat Rousseau projects his raspy voice through a horseshoe moustache, describing his 34 years as a warden of Riding Mountain. Highlights include being gored by a bison, and the dubious thrills of crawling into female black bear dens to measure cubs. He’s the designated driver of our minibus.
The 3000sq km Riding Mountain National Park encompasses three main ecosystems: prairie grasslands (perfect fodder for bison); boreal forest (hello Mr Moose); and aspen parklands (the black bear’s favourite hangout). Several pristine lakes are dotted around the park, including the aptly named Clear Lake, which hosts the holiday town of Wasagaming on its shore. This quaint little settlement has the atmosphere of a North American summer camp, with couples riding tandem bikes, kids paddling pedal boats and families gathering around bonfires at night.
Saskatoon berries (like blueberries only larger and sweeter) are at their peak during our July visit and Ian points out trees that have been bent to the ground by black bears. The animals’ favourite feeding position is lying flat on their back, hugging a tree trunk to their chest and raking berries into their mouth with their paws. They can consume up to 70,000 calories a day during summer, laying the ground work for a long, harsh winter.
We cruise the park’s roads, eyes peeled for a flash of ebony amid the foliage. There are an estimated 2300 black bears in the greater park area but they are skittish. We soon spot one grazing on the saskatoon crop, and it quickly vanishes into the woods. Nonetheless, our Big Five checklist gets its first tick. White-tail deer bound away from our van and we spot a coyote hunting in the long grass. A short while later, as we pass a marshy field, a yearling female moose poses obligingly for our cameras. Tick No 2. Night is falling as we approach the outskirts of Wasagaming and there, beside the main highway, is a black bear up on its hind legs gorging on berries and apparently oblivious to the increasing number of cars stopping so passengers can watch.
Riding Mountain is home to a herd of 40 plains bison. Millions of these beasts once roamed North America but, in a deliberate ploy by the US government to sabotage the indigenous peoples’ food supply, they were hunted to the brink of extinction. About 12,000 wild bison now graze across Canada and those in the park are untainted by crossbreeding with cattle. We watch as a mother licks her honey-haired calf and a pair of young males clash heads in preparation for the August rutting season. Tick No 3.
The bison’s habitat is idyllic, dotted with pretty yellow, pink and white wildflowers. In contrast, the landscape of Churchill, one hour and 20 minutes by plane from Winnipeg, is flat and bleak, strewn with basalt boulders known as greywacke and flag trees — lopsided black spruce that have been stripped of foliage on one side by cruel prevailing winds. We have arrived in polar bear country and it truly feels like a wild frontier. Around the edge of town, signs warn of the danger of walking beyond the urban area. No one locks their homes or cars in Churchill in case someone suddenly needs shelter. The last bear attack occurred in 2016, when two people were mauled in the early hours after Halloween. Both survived. The bear was not so lucky; in this rare instance, human safety took precedence over bear conservation.
Having seen the belugas, we have just one final tick on our Big Five list to go, and Neil Mumby is the man to help us reach our goal. He welcomes us aboard his enormous tundra buggy, a rugged four-wheel drive bus designed for bear spotting, and drives us into the Churchill Wildlife Management Area, prime bear territory.
It’s estimated there are 830 polar bears in the western Hudson Bay region, down from about 1200 in 1980. Neil says the fall in numbers corresponds directly with a decline in sea ice, and there are predictions Hudson Bay could be ice-free by 2050. It’s a sobering thought, and one that makes us even more anxious to spot the animal that has become the poster child for climate change action. We keenly scan our surroundings. Every creamy-coloured rock looks like a bear in slumber. Indeed, when Neil points towards one of those rocks and informs us it’s alive, I’m not convinced until the rock opens its eyes, raises its head and points its black nose in our direction. The bear rises to its massive paws and lumbers away through the purple fireweed.
We spot two more bears on our outing, one far off in the distance and another quite close, sunbathing sleepily beside a lake. The latter, a 10-year-old male, can barely be bothered to acknowledge our presence. He lifts his head, opens his huge jaw in a wide yawn before closing his eyes again, his thick white fur shining in the afternoon sun. His back feet are splayed out behind him; his front ones form a pillow for his head. It’s a position that would be cute if you didn’t know what those paws are capable of. As one local tells us: “The polar bear likes to go smack, and bite, then not much happens after that except dinner.”
We are glued to the tundra buggy windows, mesmerised by this majestic giant of the animal kingdom. For days afterwards, my dreams will be filled with visions of polar bears. Our Big Five list just got the best, and biggest, tick of all.
Penny Hunter was a guest of Frontiers North and Destination Canada.
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More to the Story
The house of Churchill tour guide Paul Ratson is perched amid the greywacke looking out over the coast, about 13km from town. It’s a perfect location to spot polar bears, but there are pros and cons to living in such beautiful isolation. Electric fences run along the external walls of his house, the windowsills are fitted with nail beds and the entry is enclosed in a sturdy metal cage. Paul, 63, never leaves home without his trusty 12-gauge shotgun. He recalls being trapped inside for four days when a polar bear refused to vacate the premises, no matter how hard he tried to scare him off with shouting and firecrackers. Originally from a small farming community further south, he came to Churchill in 1974, a time when you could hitch a ride on the cargo plane to town if you helped unload it on arrival. He’s worked on various polar bear research projects over the years and his well-trained eye helps us find fresh polar bear prints on the beach near his house. He takes us to what is commonly known as the “polar bear jail”, a holding facility for bears caught hanging around Churchill. Up to 29 bears can be kept in isolation cells here for up to 30 days, after which they are tranquilised, placed in nets and choppered 80km away for release. It’s a much kinder solution than the three-strikes strategy of yore. “We’re getting very good at not killing bears here,” Paul says.
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In the Know
Frontiers North runs eight-day Big Five Safaris in July and August. Accommodation is in the Four Points by Sheraton hotel at Winnipeg airport, The Lakehouse in Wasagaming, and The Tundra Inn in Churchill. All meals, return flights to Churchill, on-ground transport and tours are included. Additional experiences include a brewery tour, dog-sledding and a lake cruise. Temperatures can range widely between Winnipeg and Churchill, from 30C+ to close to zero. Guests should pack accordingly. From $C6949 ($7700) a person, twin-share.
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