I have wanted to commune with polar bears in the wild for years. I started researching trips prior to COVID and quickly determined no tundra buggies for me. Like Humvees on steriods, these monster vehicles hold up to 40 people and with their large wheels and electric propulsion systems navigate the uneven, rocky terrain of the tundra scouting for polar bears. Sounds worse than a packaged bus tour or cruise. Instead, I wanted to hike to watch bears.
Much to my delight I discovered Churchill Wild, an outfitter with private fly in only lodges on the Hudson Bay that boasts the world’s first and only polar bear walking safaris, with opportunities to meet polar bears face to face and depending on time of year, to sing with beluga whales or howl with wolves. I was hooked and finally after waiting for Canada to reopen to Americans post COVID booked a trip called Bears and Belugas at the Seal River Heritage Lodge on the Hudson Bay for the following August.
We flew to Winnipeg, arriving to a cool, wet afternoon. Fortunately our hotel for the night was across the street from the terminal, so we hustled through the steady rain, carting our duffels, to check in. We had an orientation dinner with the Churchill Wild team later that evening but with time to fill, donned our raincoats and walked over to the Royal Aviation Museum of Western Canada. Here we viewed an assortment of aircraft, learned about the history of bush flying and heard many stories of the courageous aviators who flew the Hudson Bay. Our appetite was well whet for our own Hudson Bay adventure!
At orientation, we met our fellow travellers – couples from Germany, Australia and Canada, another couple from the north of our home state, a mother daughter duo from England and parents and their young teen from Washington, DC; a diverse group with a common interest in polar bears and beluga whales. The next morning we boarded a commercial flight to Churchill, a northern Manitoba town, population 1000, accessible only by air or rail. Nicknamed the Polar Bear Capital of the World, Churchill is located near the Hudson Bay at a point where polar bears leave the receding ice in the summer and move inland. It is not uncommon to see polar bears wandering through town; Churchill even has a jail to hold errant bears until they can be moved out of town.
We divided into two groups at the Churchill airport. My husband and I were assigned to the first group so were immediately ushered into a van and driven to a small airfield on the far side of town. An eight passenger bush plane awaited to transport us to the lodge. While we were inflight, the other half of our group would tour Churchill, waiting for the plane to return. We would take turns again on our return flight, so would explore Churchill then.
The flight from Churchill to the landing strip near our lodge took about 40 minutes. The day was clear with good visibility and smooth flying. I scanned the tundra below for polar bears but instead saw mile after mile of flat boggy marshland interspersed with forest green pines and patches of lime moss and lichen. Stark and remote, the tundra has its own rugged beauty.
Near the shore of the bay, we spotted a gravel runway adjacent to the lodge and within minutes were on the ground. An ATV pulling a passenger and luggage cart approached and we were greeted by Jesse, one of our guides. We had a brief exchange with passengers leaving the lodge who bubbled with excitement about the wildlife they’d seen, sharing a few up close photos of bears. Boomer and Mike, two additional guides for our stay, introduced themselves once their former charges boarded the aircraft.
It seemed silly to be carted when we could have easily walked the quarter of a mile to the lodge, but we soon learned that no one walks outside the fenced area of the camp unless accompanied by a guide with a rifle. We were in polar bear country now and as we would soon discover, bears frequently roam near the lodge. Churchill Wild prides itself that in the decades it has been trekking with guests, neither people or bears have ever harmed each other.
As we pulled into the fenced yard of the lodge, Ben and Nicole, the camp managers welcomed us. We were given a quick lodge tour, shown to our rooms and taken to the gear room to find suitably sized rain suits, down jackets and rubber boots. This would be our uniform for the next five days.
We had time to unpack and explore the lodge as we waited for the other half of our group. Located on the shores of the Hudson River near the Seal River Estuary, this luxury ecolodge has mutiple sitting rooms with fireplaces, floor to ceiling windows, large wraparound fenced decks and an outdoor viewing tower. Lunch was in a cozy dining room with huge picture windows overlooking the bay and gave us a preview of our meals to come; lots of healthy eating with natural ingredients. Refered to as ‘tundra inspired cuisine’ the lodge chef uses locally sourced meats and fish along with fruits and vegetables from an onsite orchard and garden. Over the course of the week we had an amazing variety of food for being so remote – delicious soups (mushroom, beet, beef stew), root vegetables and my personal favorite, smoked ribs with jalapeno cornbread always accompanied by a desert usually made with different types of tundra berries. The menus are so renowned, that Churchill Wild has published its own cookbook!
The real magic of Churchill Wild is getting close enough to observe wildlife but in a way that is safe for us and comfortable for the animals. Immediately after lunch, before our first excursion, our guides gave us a thorough safety briefing on how to trek in polar bear country. Jesse, Boomer and Mike are well trained biologists, first responders as well as photographers who understand animal behavior; their instructions on how to approach bears on foot proved invaluable. Given the remoteness of the location, bears do not interact much with humans so are not conditioned to automatically fear us. However, like most animals, they do not like being surprised and may attack if startled, so when approaching a bear, we must make our presence known. Because a bear has an incredibly keen sense of smell, we always approach upwind so it can catch our scent. Once the bear identifies us, usually by stopping what it is doing, lifting its head and sniffing, we immediately halt and form a line shoulder to shoulder, parallel to the bear. Then we stay quiet, watch and wait until the bear recognizes that we are not a threat and resumes its activity. Only then, maintaining our shoulder to shoulder line, we slowly, quietly and in synchrony move closer to the bear, stop, wait and repeat as long as the bear is not agitated. Our guides reinterated multiple times – listen to their instructions and never run, even if a bear comes toward us. Jesse, Boomer and Mike always carry rifles but assured us they have never had to use one. They did forewarn us that we may have a curious bear come toward us; cubs and subadults, like human children, are inquisitive, and mama bear may follow her cubs. Should this happen, we are to stay shoulder to shoulder and step backward when instructed. The guides will make noise, may throw rocks near the bear(s) or as a last resort fire a noisy starter pistol with screeching pyrotechnics to dissuade the bear(s) from coming closer. Like with most safety talks, we assumed that this type situation would be a low probability event; little did we know that three times over the course of the next five days we would encounter inquisitive bears and implement this training.
After lunch, we donned our boots and insulated jackets for a zodiac excursion to scout for bears and belugas in the Hudson Bay. It was low tide which meant our herculean guides had to drag zodiacs loaded with four to five passengers almost a quarter of a mile through a labyrinth of rocks to deeper water.
No sooner did we motor into deep water, then we were surrounded by pods of curious belugas, their white melon shaped heads periodically poking above the surface to investigate. One of the smallest species of whales, belugas resemble stocky dolphins with their muscular bodies and curved backs but without the dorsal fin. Slow swimmers, the belugas cruised around and under the zodiacs giving us plenty of opportunities to not only watch but to hear them. Belugas are quite vocal and are known as the ‘canaries of the sea’ – we heard their chirps, whistles and squeaks, assuming they were gossiping amongst themselves about the strange creatures floating above them in rubber rafts.
Besides belugas, we often saw bears in the water while out in the zodiacs, sometimes swimming, sometimes perched on rocks beneath the surface of the bay. Despite it being August, all the bears we saw looked robust and healthy, not emaciated as expected for this time of year. Polar bears primarily use sea ice as a platform to hunt seals, but during the summer thaw when forced inland, their fat rich diet is replaced by a low calorie diet of berries, fungi and kelp. In reality, when off the ice, bears mostly survive off the the layers of fat they accumulate from eating seal blubber in the winter. As more and more sea ice melts due to global warming and bears are forced inland earlier in the season for longer periods of time, many scientists fear that the polar bear population is destined to weaken and dwindle due to insufficeint calories when off the ice. But our guides paint a more optimistic picture of species adaptability and we were fortunate enough to witness this first hand. When polar bears eat plants, their poop is firm with undigested remants of berries and plant material. When polar bears eat high fat blubber, their poop resembles sticky, black tar. Over the years, the indigenous people of the Hudson Bay began to notice a change in polar bear poop despite bears spending more time inland off the ice. They realized that polar bears had found a summer source of fat, the multitudes of beluga whales that migrate into the rivers of the Hudson Bay each summer to give birth, feed and molt. Scientists initially refuted this, saying that polar bears had never been known to hunt belugas but several years ago a crew from National Geographic visited the region and captured a bear successfully hunting a beluga. Our first afternoon in the zodiacs, we observed a large male bear attentively perched on a rock beneath the surface of the bay. We watched as he patiently scanned the water around him. Eventually, the rounded white head of a beluga appeared and the unsuspecting whale swam closer to the rock. In a flash, the polar bear launched itself off the rock, diving into the water. We saw splashing, then some blood in the water, but the bear emerged empty handed; this lucky beluga got away. Per our guides, this hunting behavior is now becoming inbred in the population as mothers teach their cubs to hunt beluga. As we trekked over the next several days, we were heartened by the evidence of this new diet source and what it means for the sustainability of these majestic bears; rarely did we see bear scat that was not thick, tarry and black.
Two days during our weeklong stay we did all day excursions, carting across the tundra in a passenger trailer pulled by an ATV. Not only did this allow us to venture further from the lodge looking for bears but also to experience the summer beauty of the tundra. To say the ride was rough was an understatement. The partially thawed surface of the tundra was crisscrossed with streams, ponds, mudholes and the everpresent assortment of rocks and boulders. The capabilities of these ATVs and the expert driving of our guides was impressive!
We had our first up close encounter with bears on our first ATV excursion. After bouncing, rocking, rolling and splashing though water and mud for an hour, Jesse, who was lead guide for the day, spotted bear tracks.
We followed the tracks, stopping frequently for the guides to scan the horizon with high powered binoculars. Those of us with binoculars and zoom lenses joined in the search, looking for movement and the telltale white fur that was in high contrast to the browns, greens and reds of the summer tundra.
With no luck, we stopped for picnic lunch in a wide open grassy spot. Another protocol for polar bear country – stay away from bushes or rocks that might shelter sleeping bears who would not take kindly to being disturbed! Satiated and refreshed by our break, we continued our ride to the the farthest point of our journey, a small hermit’s cabin. This area of the bay was lovely with red rocks, grasslands with red whispy tassles and groves of white wildflowers.
We left the carts, eager to stretch our legs and hike to the hermit’s cabin. It was a beautiful day in the tundra – temps in the mid 60s, sunny and clear, with just enough breeze to keep the annoying gnats and flies at bay. We hiked in single line formation, Jesse at the front, Boomer at the rear and Mike off to the side scounting for bear. This landscape was prime lounging location for bear.
When we reached the old dilapidated hermit’s hut any doubt that this was a popular spot for polar bears was immediately dispelled. The weathered wooden walls of the cabin were covered in paw prints as bears, likely curious, stood on hind legs and rested their front paws on the walls. Some of these prints were over 8 feet up on the wall and our guides pointed out that large male polar bears, weighing over 1500 lbs. can stand nearly 10 feet on their hind legs.
Awed by the thought of the size and power of these bears, we hiked back to our ATV trailer to begin the bumpy, arduous journey to the lodge, a bit disappointed that thus far, all we’d seen of bears was tracks. But nature is full of unpredictable surprises! Not long into our journey, Mike spotted some movement in the rocks bordering a large patch of grassland, and a white head popped up as we neared. Much to our delight, two more heads popped up – a mother and two cubs had been lounging in the grasslands near the rocks. Our guides drove the ATVs to a spot upwind of the bears and we all got out and formed our shoulder to shoulder line to move closer to them.
The bears watched us for a while but did not appear to be bothered so we continued to slowly inch closer. With each step forward, we got better and better photos. Eventually one of the cubs got up and started moving towards us. Mother bears are very attentive so as soon as that cub began to wander off, she and the second cub followed.
We no longer needed a telephoto lens, as the curious cub tentatively approached, stopped, posed and then continued toward us with mom and sibling starting to close the distance. At this point our guides began making noise and throwing rocks but rather than dissuading the cub, it perceived this as interesting play and continued forward. We stayed shoulder to shoulder facing the bears but taking several slow steps backwards. When the guides realized the cub was too inquisitive to stop, Boomer fired a pyrotechnic pistol that was loud enough to cause all three bears to scatter away from us. We then slowly walked back to our ATV, boarded, and buzzed with the excitement of our first bear encounter.
Our second close up bear encounter occurred the next day. We boarded the Zodiacs and motored about 20 miles north in the bay to a rocky peninsula, arriving at low tide so we could use the now visible rocks as a path to the beach. Thankful for the thick rubber boots provided as part of our gear pack, we stepped gingerly from rock to rock, trying not to slip on the wet surface. Our guides had chosen this spot for a day excursion for several reasons; it was a great spot to see bears both on land and in the water, there was a nice beach for a picnic lunch, we could hike to the remains of a prehistoric indigenous settlement, learn about the archeology, get amazing views of the bay and see plenty of belugas on the hour long ride enroute.
No sooner did we make our way to shore when two male subadult bears appeared over the rocky ledge of the peninsula. Our guides immediately had us line up shoulder to shoulder. More curious than intimidated, the two adolescent bears cautiously approached. We were able to photograph them until they got too close for our guide’s comfort when once again they used a loud noises to shoo them away.
Although polar bears are the main wildlife attraction of the tundra, there are many other hardy species that inhibit this inhospitable landscape. We were fortunate to spot a caribou in the distance, standing quietly atop a rocky outcrop, head held high supporting its massive C shaped antlers. Caribou have some special adaptions that enable them to survive in the artic – they adjust their diet based on available food sources eating a variety of plants, lichens, sedges, grasses, shrubs, mosses, willows and flowering tundra plants, as the seasons change. They migrate, move easily in snow, and both male and female caribou sport antlers, a convenient tool for moving snow away from food. In summer, the caribou’s coloring allows it to easily blend into the landscape, although this offers scarce protection from its primary predator, the wolf.
Unlike caribou, we regularly saw the Artic ground squirrel, a species native to the tundra, called sik siks by the indigenous people of the region. This beige squirrel with its white spotted back, gets its name because of the tsik-tsik sounds it makes communicating to others. Sik siks spend the spring and summer months eating voraciously to increase body fat, storing food and lining their burrows in preparation for winter hibernation. It was common to see sik siks dashing through vegetation or sometimes gracefully perched on lichen covered rocks on hind legs, forearms dangling.
After our bear encounter, we hiked uphill to the remains of a prehistoric indigenous community. To the untrained eye, the site looked like random piles of lichen covered rocks, but with a little help from our guides, we could see the outlines of tent circles, food storage caverns and even grave markers. Archeologists believe a community of hunter gathers, the pre-Dorsets lived here intermittently over 4000 years ago. The forebears of today’s Innuit, they were highly mobile, living in settlements along the coast to hunt seals, then moving inland to hunt caribou and muskox.
After lunch, we reboarded the zodiacs paralleling some of the rocky peninsulas enroute back to the lodge. A napping bear awakened by the puttering of our engine, lifted its head and gave us a big yawn as we motored by. Again we were swarmed by curious belugas.
The third and final time we used our training was the most special. We were hiking near tall grasslands, a favorite spot for bears to relax and rest. Boomer spotted some movement in the grasses ahead and we slowly and cautiously made a circle to approach from the opening. Much to our delight, we saw a mother with her cub lying in the grass. We waited patiently and moved closer once mom saw us and appeared unfazed. Eventually baby began whimpering, mom sat up and the cub began nursing. It nursed on and off for 15 minutes giving us amazing photo opportunities; satiated, the cub fell into a milk coma.
At this point, we were ready to move on, but Boomer advised patience, so we stood quietly and watched as mom and cub napped. But before too long, the cub stirred, eventually stood up and began exploring its surroundings while mom continued napping. Eventually the cub spotted us, became curious and started approaching. Mom immediately sensed that her cub was wandering, got up and began following it as it approached us. Once again we got into straight line formation and began making noise. This was sufficient to dissaude the cub from coming closer and as soon as it turned and headed away, mom did too. We were ecstatic to have seen mom nursing her cub and then have yet another bear encounter.
Some of our best bear viewing was near the lodge. During a foggy morning hike on a nearby peninsula, we saw a white head pop up from the rocks. It was always exciting to see a napping bear wake up, emerging from behind a rock, under a bush or out of tall grasses to check us out. Often the bear was as interested in us as we were in it!
Yet another morning, we watched a large male, with its shaggy forelegs, purposefully traverse the rocky shoreline during low tide, its furry white form reflected in the shallow tide pools as it walked.
Many times, we did not even need to leave the comfort of the lodge to see bears. With its large windows and screened porch, the lodge was perfect for watching the many bears that walked along the exposed rocks at low tide.
One morning, four subadults climbed along the rocks right under our breakfast room, giving us a topside view of these magnificent animals!
Another morning we watched two young males, sparring and playing in the grassland behind the lodge. They wrestled, tumbled and rolled, one occassionally pinning the other, until the other got away and the play cycle repeated again.
Boomer, an accomplished wildlife photographer, challenged us to get the classic polar bear picture – the walking bear with paw lifted. We saw so many bears over the course of our five days that all the photographers among us, professionals and amatuers alike, had multiple chances to get this photo. Challenge achieved.
We had hoped to see the Northern Lights from our remote location – being so far north with no light pollution was the ideal viewing condition. Alas, the sun’s electromagnetic matter did not co-operate. Every night we signed up for Northern Lights alert, hoping that a staff member would pound on our door, waking us to see the lights. But unfortunately, every night we slept undisturbed. By way of consolation, we did see some amazing sunsets, with many a dramatic sky. The flat terrain allowed us to see 360 degrees of colored sky!
All too soon, this amazing adventure was over. Enroute back to Winnipeg, I composed my TripAdvisor review and thought it an appropriate way to conclude this blog.
This was truly one of the most amazing wildlife experiences ever. The opportunity to trek and safely approach polar bears on foot or by zodiak, then quietly observe them was beyond memorable – a mother nursing her cub, a large male hunting belugas, two subadults playfully sparring! Our guides, Boomer, Jess and Mike understood bear behavior and allowed us to approach, observe and photograph safely. It was exciting to be in a Zodiak surrounded by 10-20 curious belugas! The Seal River Lodge is remote, comfortable with lots of windows and fenced in viewing platforms – some of the best bear watching is from the comfort of the lodge. Lodge managers, Nicole and Ben are gracious hosts, taking care of our every need from proper gear (supplied by lodge) to managing food allergies. The logistics of getting us to this beautiful, remote place in the world were flawlessly executed by the Churchill Wild team. This is a bucket list trip and should be a top wildlife traveler ‘must do’.
Churchill Wild delivers an amazing polar bear safari experience. With two more lodges we have yet to see in different locations on the bay, I know we’ll be back!
August, 2023