Connect with wildlife at Spirit Bear hotspot
Keep expectations in check because not everyone gets glimpse of elusive animal
KLEMTU, B.C.—“You have about a 50 per cent chance of seeing spirit bears while you are here,” says Eric Fenato, general manager of Spirit Bear Lodge upon my arrival, instantly putting my expectations into check. “However, it being the latter part of the season, your odds are better.”
It was at this moment I crossed my fingers and toes.
Catching sight of the rare and revered spirit bear is lucky. For members of Klemtu’s Kitasoo Xai’ xais First Nations, it’s more. Some believe they hold supernatural powers.
Kermode, spirit bears or Moskgm’ ol (Kitasoo Xai’ Xais for white bear), are only found in the remote north central coast of British Columbia’s Great Bear Rainforest. Subspecies of black bears, they are white in colouration due to a single recessive gene, much like the one found in Labrador dogs.
According to myth, Raven made one in 10 black bears white. This was done for people to remember the great ice age and be thankful for present plentiful lands.
All visitors to Klemtu arrive at Spirit Bear Lodge with the same hope of seeing a spirit bear. The lodge, owned and operated by the Kitasoo Xai’xais First Nations, hosts guided tours to look for the white bears.
For three days, I’d have the opportunity to search the salmon-rich estuaries and small river systems of the world’s only Spirit Bear Conservancy.
Experiencing momentary connections with wildlife has become a soul-nurturing habit. The ability to observe animals in their natural habitats is meditative — serving as meaningful purpose and prescriptive thrill.
On the boat ride from Bella Bella, I’m clearly not the only eager soul.
Across from me are a visiting mom and daughter duo from New Zealand, Andrea and Barbie Friar. We talk shop — swapping wildlife stories. Andrea reveals she’s also a bear enthusiast and has nearly completed her mission to see all of the world’s eight species.
After the hour and a half-long boat ride, we arrive at the lodge and undergo orientation with Fenato.
“This year, we’ve had the good fortune of seeing seven different white bears. Being a rainforest, they’re harder to track down than you’d think. Luckily, we have one that’s been fairly regular.”
Expecting to be successful is the most disappointing mistake one could make. In addition to wildlife’s unpredictability, the conservancy covers a fair bit of space at more than 103,000 hectares, with the number of spirit bears estimated at around only 120.
The next morning, outfitted in “Klemtu tuxedos” a.k.a. life jackets and rain gear, guests head out in 12person vessels.
The day’s agenda includes seven to eight hours of wildlife viewing. Beyond spirit bears, you can also spot black bears, grizzlies, wolf, deer, orcas, whales and more, which makes for rich outings.
We head to one of several staple sites the lodge visits, but are warned not to share the names of any spots. Even though hunting bears is forbidden in the Great Bear Rainforest, poachers still sadly pose a risk.
Even after hearing about the spirit bear’s rarity, it’s hard not to get one’s hopes up, especially when a group returns with a success story.
“I still get excited just to see it,” shares lifelong Klemtu resident and Kitasoo Xai’xais hereditary chief, Ernest Mason Junior, who simply goes by Charlie.
I’m paired up with two couples and we are also excited — and optimistic. Luckily, we are headed to the location with the most consistent spirit bear sightings.
Upon arriving, a black bear generously poses on a rock above a rushing creek. At about 25 metres away, it notes our presence and mostly ignores it.
For hours it demonstrates superior fishing skills. It saunters to and fro, allowing us to capture Instagramworthy images. Later, an older black bear arrives and does the same thing.
“I ordered it for 11:15,” says guide Yukie Hayashi. “It must be bear Sunday,” she jokes, referring to the tardy spirit bear. We stay until the end of day and officially declare it a noshow.
After dinner, the lodge’s nightly programming features a taste of Kitasoo Xai’xais culture with a visit to the Klemtu Big House. We watch a youth group perform and then dancers invite the crowd to join in a traditional dance and sing-off. Before leaving, Charlie shares a story about his mother.
“This is a true story,” he begins. “It was my mother’s wish to see a Big House constructed in Klemtu, but just before its completion, she passed.”
He shares that on the night of its opening, a spirit bear, uncharacteristic to the town area, was seen by many, including Charlie, looking up at the building from the beach. It was the belief of those who witnessed it that “mom came back.”
On Day 2, our captain parks beyond a trailing beach at the mouth of a small slow-flowing river. We zodiac in and follow a riverside trail-turnedboardwalk path to a raised viewing platform where salmon parts are strewn everywhere.
Deep in the lush and damp fernfilled forest, mossy trees surround at every turn and swift rapids full of salmon swirl ahead. It seems fitting grounds for a bear of mysticism.
Though a spirit bear has been spotted here with a black cub in tow, it’s a resident dominant grizzly that’s been entertaining guests this week.
The day is slow — traffic wise. My eyes tire after hours of scouring the rushing water for wildlife. A few black bears dart in and out, only to secure a fish — they are too scared of the area’s grizzlies to stick around.
At one point, the captain spots a spirit bear heading into the river system, but sadly we never see it.
Time is running out for me to spot a spirit bear on the third time around: my penultimate day. However, my hopeful attitude remains.
As we near the same shore as the day prior, I scan the beach horizon. Hardly able to believe my own eyes, there it is, running! A flash of white pops against a background of hemlocks as it dashes across the rocky shoreline.
It’s fleeting and in a flash it disappears into the thick before anyone else spots it. Counting my blessings and feeling fulfilled, I head into the forest for the day with the group.
After a few hours, the boat captain comes over the radio saying a spirit bear is once again heading up the river. We patiently wait on the platform. Just then, without a sound, the dominant grizzly appears right beside the platform. It’s near surreal as the massive bear sniffs the air and casually sizes us up. Thankfully, the abundance of pink salmon leads it down to the river below. We soak up every second of the grand fishing show.
It’s hard to tear ourselves away midperformance, but the spirit bear mama and cub have been spotted closer.
We get there just in time to watch them share a meal a fair distance up in the brush.
In awe we huddle tightly, renewing our spirits in unison. Jenn Smith Nelson was hosted by Destination British Columbia and Spirit Bear Lodge, which didn’t review or approve this story.