Eric’s Excellent Alaskan Adventure: Kodiak and Katmai Encounter
The Beast - Gallery Image
As a Canadian wildlife photographer, I’ve had plenty of experience with brown bears, in particular our famous inland Grizzly. I absolutely love them, and always will.
But, for those of us with a bear obsession, there is an almost religious pilgrimage that beckons us — to the place of the fabled giants. The Kodiak Islands and the Katmai National Park on Alaska’s southeast coast are home to the biggest brown bears on earth. Enormous, powerful, and stunningly beautiful, they are the stuff of dreams.
For other people, these kinds of dreams might be a little scarier.
An adult male can stand over 10 feet tall, and weigh up to 1500 pounds. Only the mighty polar bear rivals them in size.
Kodiak Archipelago and Katmai National Park
From: USGS
In this special place, a perfect combination of evolution, isolation and ideal habitat has resulted in a wholly unique animal. In addition to their intimidating size, and in sharp contrast to it, they are remarkably sociable. Groups of up to 60 have been known to gather at popular feeding grounds, and share the bounty in a generally polite and peaceful manner. They are also surprisingly tolerant of humans, remaining mostly oblivious to the presence of visitors. The magic of a good meal, and the knowledge that you are at the very tippy top of the food chain, I suppose.
A Fat Bear is a Healthy Bear!
You may recognize the Katmai bears as the stars of the annual Fat Bear Week event from explore.org. A select group of extraordinarily humungous bears face off in a March Madness-style elimination tournament, and voters from around the world select the winner. In the fall of 2022, a previous champion reclaimed his title. At an estimated weight of 1400 pounds, “747” once again reigns supreme. All hail the jumbo king!
We would like to nominate our boy, The Beast, for next year’s tournament! Go Beast!
These very distinct traits make the Kodiak and Katmai bears the perfect subjects for wildlife photography: unique, enormous, natural performers in front of the camera, relatively easy to locate, and unlikely to maul you just because they find you annoying.
Although the results from this impromptu photo shoot were pretty spectacular, it’s generally easier to take good photos when your subject is not chasing you around. See more great stories on the Wildlifer YouTube Channel!
With these magnificent and intriguing creatures so temptingly close to my home base in northern British Columbia, they were definitely on my Wildlifer Wishlist. A few years ago, in September of 2019, I finally travelled to Alaska to photograph these gentle giants.
“Gentle” is a relative term. We are talking about bears here.
My hosts were the fine folks from Natural Habitat Adventures. They organize amazing nature trips all over the globe, and as the travel partner for the World Wildlife Fund, they also support wildlife education and conservation. Experience, knowledge, and a good heart — everything you want in a travel company. An easy choice for the Wildlifer’s Alaskan adventure!
And every moment felt like an adventure. These areas are rugged and remote, and the only way to get there is by plane or boat. Definitely Wildlifer territory!
Flying in one of these things is an adventure in itself.
After flying up to Anchorage, I boarded a small aircraft for the trip to Kodiak Island. There I met the rest of my group — just six clients and one guide. Small groups allow for a truly intimate experience, with the bears and within the group. The first night at the hotel was spent getting to know each other, and trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to contain our building excitement.
NHA is very professional and well-organized. Every segment of the journey was carefully scheduled and planned, and every practical consideration was taken care of. We flew out the next morning on sea planes, over the spectacular scenery of Kodiak Island and across the Shelikof Strait, to the Katmai Peninsula. Our float plane landed and we boarded the Ursus, which would be our “floating lodge” for the main leg of the trip. Now retrofitted and renamed for its new purpose as a tourism charter vessel, the Ursus began its seafaring life as the original Time Bandit, a deep-sea crab-fishing boat. Its successor, the new Time Bandit, was featured on the Discovery Channel program, The Deadliest Catch. Even the boats in Alaska have an interesting backstory!
Welcome to your luxury cruise aboard the Ursus! Here’s your bucket!
Aboard the Ursus, our guide introduced the group to the “bucket brigade”. On this trip, your best friend is a large plastic pail. It will carry and protect your gear. In a pinch, it will serve as an umbrella. With its lid attached, it becomes a comfy seat. Out here, of course, “comfy” has a very low bar to clear. Still, we would learn to love our portable, weatherproof, multipurpose luggage/furniture/rainwear.
On our first day, we were fortunate to have good weather. Buckets in hand, we were able to head out on a skiff and search the shoreline for bears. We explored three different channels, and were still itching to see our first bear. Landing our skiff on the shore, we took our first march into the wilderness. We followed a creek to an area where visitors frequently camp. They will fly in with tents and camp in the area, which seems like a very brave thing to do.
The Fine Line Between Bravery and Becoming Bear Food
Some people are too brave, and run afoul of park personnel. While the bears are uncommonly tolerant, and can even appear friendly, guides and rangers preach caution, for obvious reasons. Attacks are exceedingly rare, but these are large, wild, powerful and unpredictable carnivores. As a cautionary tale, we need only remember the infamous “Grizzly Man”. He spent many summers in the Katmai park, living and interacting with the bears, and just generally pressing his luck. His luck ran out in the fall of 2003. To quote one research ecologist, his death was “tragic”, but “not unpredictable”. It was the first fatal attack in the park’s 85-year history. There have been none since.
The park service, tour operators, and conscientious visitors are keen to keep it that way. We certainly were. We paid rapt attention during safety lectures. Our excitement was always tempered by an abundance of caution, and a constant awareness of our situation. When we visit Katmai, we are voluntarily inserting ourselves into the food chain. And we need to remember who is at the top.
Katmai Brown Bear: First Sighting
Your first viewing of a Katmai bear, and the primal alarm it triggers, leaves no doubt whose territory this is.
This was the moment we had waited for. Our first Katmai brown bear, and my first understanding of how big these bears are. From a distance, this lone momma didn’t look that big in the creek. On closer inspection, she stood about 3.5 feet at the shoulders. Not small.
And neither was her cub. The Katmai brown bears start out each season bigger, and gain much more weight, than inland bears. That weight gain is even more pronounced for younger bears. Marshmallow was about six months old. An inland cub, gaining a respectable 10 pounds a month, would be around 60 pounds. Marshmallow was easily 120 pounds already.
Marshmallow. 120 pounds of adorable. There’s just more of me to love!
The following day, we explored the next channel as we continued up the coast. Very soon, we found two subadult bears, fighting and play-fighting in a low tidal pool. Subadults have left their mother, and are already beginning to put on considerable size and weight, but they are still young, curious and playful. It was exciting to watch big, powerful bears interacting with such youthful energy, straddling the dividing line between roughhousing and combat. It was also cool to imagine their relationship. Subadults often use the “buddy system” to survive these early years of independence, remaining together for mutual protection from larger bears. Eventually, they will have to compete for the same resources, so they won’t stay together forever. I had to wonder what stage these young siblings were at.
Apparently still at the “Reluctantly Sharing the Bathtub” stage.
Experimenting with my underwater GoPro, I quickly learned what draws the bears to this area. The abundance of fish was astounding. This is the primary reason the bears are relatively unconcerned by our presence. Resources are plentiful at this time of year, and they would prefer to eat and play rather than worry about us, as long as we don’t appear to pose a threat. We try very hard to remain as unthreatening as possible.
That day, we covered lots of territory. With every passing mile, more bears appeared. Also, we got closer to our final stop, and the promise of an Alaskan brown bear jamboree!
Geographic Harbor: The Brown Bear’s Buffet
On the third day, we reached Geographic Harbor, which includes two large bays that extend three miles off Amalik Bay on Shelikof Strait. The bays were formed in the aftermath of a massive volcanic eruption (Novarupta) in 1912. The eruption was the largest of the 20th century, producing roughly 30 times the ash and magma of Mount St. Helens. At least 14 active volcanoes lie within the park boundaries, including Mount Katmai for which the park is named. The last recorded activity was a “steam explosion” way back in 2006, so … nothing to worry about there, right?
I’m sure the mountain just looks like it’s steaming.
Our guide shared some of this history with us, but we were oblivious to any possible volcanic threat. Geographic Harbor is teeming with fish. The tidal flats and gravel bars are a popular feeding ground for the bears. We were looking forward to the highlight of our trip.
We would spend two-and-a-half days in Geographic Harbor. It would rain non-stop. Keeping our gear dry and free of sand would be a constant challenge. It did little to dampen our spirits. Buckets in hand, clad head-to-toe in rain gear, we set off. Somewhere out there, we hoped to find Lazy Larry and The Beast.
On Day 2 at Geographic Harbor, it was pouring. It was also the most exciting day of the trip.
First, I spotted a wolf and bear fishing in the same area. Remarkably, they were not at odds with each other. Two animals that are renowned for their ferocity, feeding and co-existing peacefully. It speaks to the entirely unique nature of this environment, providing an abundance so great that nature interacts in unexpected harmony. As a wildlife photographer, it was a wonderful moment to capture.
Mornin’, Ralph. Nice fish.
Alaska is happy to serve up these memorable moments. It’s very hospitable that way. It is likely to follow that up with a moment of absolute, heart-stopping terror. Because Alaska is also a little bit crazy, so you have to watch out, as our guide had pointedly warned.
I was as prepared as you can be when you first encounter The Beast. Four-and-a-half feet at the hump. 1200 pounds. The biggest bear I’ve ever seen in my life.
No matter how brave and experienced you think you are, there are primal fears you can’t control. Particularly when you’re confronted by nature’s most pure and powerful land predator. I was staring down an animal the locals referred to as The Beast. Remember, the locals see these bears all the time. They don’t toss around names like “The Beast” lightly.
I dunno, Bob. I think we should call him “Snuggles”.
When I say “staring down”, I actually mean doing my best not to stare him down. You will not win a staring contest with The Beast. I suddenly felt very small and insignificant. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and attempted to flee in the other direction, urging the rest of my body to do the same. This would have been a bad idea, because you will also not win a race with The Beast. Overcoming every reasonable course of action my brain suggested (“Run, you idiot!”), I was somehow able to recall the advice from our guide. I wasn’t sure I trusted it right then, but I remembered it.
The Beast is not going to toss you around like a tennis ball, the guide assured us, unless you do something incredibly stupid. Like staring into his eyes. That is taken as confrontational. Moving quickly or, God forbid, running are equally unwise. You don’t want to be perceived as either a threat or prey. Maintain your composure, and he will maintain his. Easy for our guide to say.
I was just 50 feet away from him as he was fishing. With my smallest lens, zoomed all the way down to 70mm, I still couldn’t get his whole enormous body in the frame. He was looking at me, in what I suppose was a casual way for him. I was looking at him through the viewfinder, in a decidedly not-casual manner.
I thought, "Wait! I’m not supposed to be looking him in the eye!” Then, “Hold on, I’m behind the camera. He can’t see my eyes!”
My brain helpfully reminds me that a camera lens, from that distance, looks like a giant eyeball. It suggests, once again, that I run away.
I win the battle, remain composed, and finally snap one of favourite photos of all time.
The Beast - Gallery Image
It’s a moment of utter relief, and complete exuberance. You feel like you’ve dodged a bullet. And you know you’ve done what you came here to do: capture with your camera the scariest animal on the continent, in all his majesty and power, at his dining room table. For a wildlife photographer, it’s the greatest feeling in the world.
The Closing Day Performance at Katmai
The next day is our last at Geographic Harbor. Soon, we will return to the Ursus and take the flight back to Kodiak. The Katmai bears decide to put on one more fabulous show before we go.
Fattening yourself up for hibernation is harder than it sounds. Fishing and feeding, gorging on delicious salmon until you can’t stand — hey, that’s tough work. Sometimes you just have to flop down on the ground, let your digestive system do its job, and get ready to do it all over again.
In sharp contrast to the previous day’s heart-pounding excitement, we and the bears seem to be in a more relaxed mood. And one bear manages to look positively tranquil.
Serenity now!
When it comes to yoga-style tranquility poses, one bear beats them all. Again, the locals have given him a very appropriate name. He is Lazy Larry, and he is the Prince of Placid.
Feel that gentle stretch in your spine. Oh, yeah.
Larry has a personality and approach to life all his own. We have come to marvel at the peaceful calm of all these massive bears during our time here, but Larry has mastered the art. If there is a bear that makes you envious of his life in this wild and wonderful place, it is Larry. You can’t help but admire his dedication to doing as little as possible.
Reverse corpse pose. Perfect form.
I have a particular fondness for Larry. There’s something inherently loveable in his carefree demeanour. I’d like to think of us as friends. At the very least, we seem to have a common appreciation for this wild life, and the simple pleasures it provides.
Stay Lazy, Larry. It suits you.
As our adventure in Alaska comes to an end, I am thankful for all the friends I’ve made, and the lessons they’ve taught me. Respect and harmony. Peace and beauty. Simplicity and soul. This place has all those things, and it is a privilege to be here. Open your heart to nature’s wisdom, and she will nourish you with lavish gifts.
I leave Katmai and Kodiak with a happy heart, and a hope that these great and powerful bears will be with us forever, to teach these valuable lessons for generations. As strong as they are, their existence depends on a fragile natural balance. Many people are fighting to preserve and protect that balance, and we should do everything we can to help them. If you can, take a tour with a group like Natural Habitat Adventures that supports conservation efforts. Donate to the World Wildlife Fund. You can always cast a vote for your favourite Fat Bear Week contestant.
Or just take a good nap, and dream about salmon. That’s what Larry would do.
