Our camping trip to Brooks Camp in Katmai National Park put us closer to these fascinating animals than most would be comfortable with. It is highly recommended for the adventurous types out there!
Hey hey hey! Our guide urgently and firmly pushed past where I was standing to a spot right behind me, arms waving in the air. It wasn't until I turned around that I realized why.
My gaze had been focused on some grizzlies in the river ahead of us fighting over a salmon one of them had caught. That would make a good shot, I thought as I maneuvered to find the right angle for my camera. I had somehow completely missed the beast that crept out of the tall grass two meters behind me, curious to smell my equipment and perhaps me. My adrenaline was pumping but I knew that showing fear or excitement was a good way to get mauled. It decided it did not want a fight this time, however, and disappeared again into the sedge. Time to find a different vantage point.
I had somehow completely missed the beast that crept out of the tall grass two meters behind me.
Why were you voluntarily out in the wetlands surrounded by hungry grizzlies in the first place?, you may ask, or why weren't you taking lots of pictures of the bear from two meters away before it disappeared again? I don't have a good excuse for the second question, really, but to answer the first question I need to take a few steps back.
Katmai and Brooks Camp is known for its grizzlies and allowing humans to see their behavior up close. If you want to get good wildlife pictures of grizzlies, this is the place to go. That's really the whole answer to why we went to Katmai in the first place, but there's a bit more to the story if you want to know why we were far from the lodge.
Trust me, you don't want to stumble across a sleeping grizzly.
The day before we had seen some fishermen go off the cordoned bridges into the wetlands. They must be able to see the bears at their level instead of a top-down view, we thought. So now, of course, we had to go there. We learned from one of the lodge housekeepers that a trail just behind the cabins would take us there, so off we went. Five minutes later our boots were covered in mud and we were surrounded by bears trying to fish in the river. Some came up the bank towards us, others were swimming in the river, and some may well have been sleeping in the sedge behind us. Trust me, you don't want to stumble across a sleeping grizzly - they can get a little ornery when they first wake up. We didn't want to get caught out, and we couldn't easily cross the river without waders. Maybe, we thought, a guide would help us better navigate the wetlands.
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I had never realized catching a salmon was so hard for a bear. On TV you see them catching salmon like it's their calling. As one ranger put it, though, imagine balancing on the edge of a waterfall with heavy fish flying at your head, and you have to catch one with your teeth. Bears are a little better equipped than we are in the tooth department, but it's still difficult.
All I wanted was one shot of a bear catching a salmon in its mouth on the edge of the falls, but I had been at the platforms all day with nothing to show for it. Youngsters would bite at air as the fish flew past and older bears preferred to sit in "the Jacuzzi" at the base of the falls. They catch lots of fish there, but it makes for a much less dramatic picture than an aerial grab. Most other bears tried to catch fish by chasing them down in the river with only modest success. They remind me of big dogs, galloping through the water trying to catch something they have no hope of getting close to.
Then, one of the older bears climbed up to the top of the falls and chased away the juveniles. Ah, maybe he will show us how it's done, I thought as I once again aimed my lens at the water. The gear is really heavy and tripods are not allowed on the platforms, so I had to brace myself as best I could against the wooden railing as I waited for the perfect moment. It was already a few hours in and my arms were getting tired.
They remind me of big dogs, galloping through the water trying to catch something they have no hope of getting close to.
Of course, that's when the rain picked up again. On the "glass half full" side of things, it meant fewer visitors to the platforms, so I was able to stay longer with fewer distractions. But the older bear seemed to struggle just as much as the younger bears. I sighed and relaxed my grip just a little. I might have to settle for shots of bears biting at air.
With a deep breath I got set up again and wiped the rain off my lens. Every time a fish jumped into the frame I would start taking pictures on the off chance that this was the moment - things happen too quickly to react to them. It meant I was going to have a zillion pictures of salmon flying past bewildered bears or slapping them in the face and falling back into the water that I would need to go through.
The ranger behind me was counting salmon, and I could hear my companions working with her to estimate the fish density. They had already given up on the flying fish shot. Several hundred salmon per minute sounded like a lot, but it didn't seem to make much difference to the bears' success rate.
This time though, things were different. After another series of camera clicks I saw a bear with a fish in its mouth through my viewfinder. Could it be? Looking at the last few shots I saw that I had in fact caught the action. I had to contain my excitement to avoid the ranger's glare - noise distracts the bears. It was time for dinner - we would celebrate with a buffet in the lodge tonight rather than our usual freeze-dried and re-hydrated gruel. I might also grab a hot toddy on the way in.
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The bags were packed. The plane was here. Just a minute - we need to use the bathroom, my companions said. OK, fine, I'll make sure everything really is good to go and try to keep the plane from taking off without us. Down by the water, the pilot waved at me. I signaled that I needed to go get something (my traveling companions) and briskly walked back to the restrooms.
I stopped short when I heard huffing up ahead - there was the mother grizzly and her cubs, stationed right outside the bathroom door. The cubs were practicing their climbing on the tree just in front of the door and the mother was keeping watch. Did my companions know not to come out? I tried to get within sight range of the window without the bears getting annoyed. The door opened - I guess my companions didn't know about this. The sow quickly turned her full attention to the door and took a few steps towards it. I heard a quick shriek and the door slammed closed again. Well, they know now.
I stopped short when I heard huffing up ahead - there was the mother grizzly and her cubs, stationed right outside the bathroom door.
Once my companions spotted me through the window I was able to inform them about the current conditions via completely incorrect sign language, right up to the point where a ranger came and shooed the bears away. Katmai didn't want to let us off without another close encounter, it seems.
