CHURCHILL, THE PITSTOP FOR WINTERING POLAR BEARS
For a few months a year, the Canadian town buzzes with visitors eager to see these Arctic giants
Churchill, a dozy backwater on the western edge of the Hudson Bay in Canada comes to life in autumn with a slew of visitors — humans as well as the four-legged kind. People fly in to view the largest land carnivores on the planet, the polar bear. From September to mid-November, the town is abuzz, for they’re both eagerly anticipated and quite welcome. For some, Churchill is the leaping off point to remote wildlife camps, but for most, it’s the destination.
Film crews, naturalists, scientists, and photographers come from all over the world to observe and film one of the earth’s most captivating species, Ursus maritimus. There’s a constant parade of the “ice bears”. They walk by and linger in this vicinity as they have done for eons, because Churchill lies on their way to the early freezing sea ice where they are returning to hunt seals after spending several months of downtime on land in a state of “walking hibernation”.
For the best chances of seeing bears, we flew into Churchill in early November and stayed at one of several cosy, handcrafted, chalet-style lodges. Upon arrival, we confirmed our place on a specially designed vehicle, a tundra buggy, for the next day via the lodge, walked around town and explored the Inuit Museum and learned about the fur trapping at the Parks Canada Museum housed in the defunct train station.
A bracing dogsled ride on a snowy path, propelled by a team of eight Canadian huskies, froze and delighted us. We meandered into shops showcasing the local Inuit and Cree Indian crafts, such as the Arctic Trading Company, an atmospheric throwback to when this town was a bustling centre for fur trade.
Dinnertime was about swapping stories and enjoying bonhomie with fellow travellers over an unexpectedly delicious meal at this far corner of the planet. The chatter was all about the day’s sightings, the “enormous sparring males and energetic youngsters playing rough and tumble”.
LIFE IN CHURCHILL
Churchill had long captured my imagination, as the curious and hungry polar bears regularly walk several miles right into town, attracted by the scents. The residents — around 800 of them — habitually leave their house and vehicle doors unlocked in case a bear comes along and someone is taken unawares. This way, they can make a quick dash to safety and shut themselves in. A handful of people have been mauled and killed in the past, but now things are carefully managed.
The local taxi driver pulled out his mobile phone and showed me a video of a polar bear being shooed away by the police from his back garden, through the side of the house to the open front yard. He then escaped to the beach. “Thank heavens my son was at school!” he said.
Bears were first attracted by the garbage dump where up to 20 of them could be seen at one time, but that was cleared away. First-time intruders are shooed away by the police, but repeat offenders are sprayed in green, then trapped, airlifted and put in jail — the Polar Bear Detention Centre — to be released when the sea ice forms and they can go off and hunt seals. On Halloween night, parents and Special Forces escort kids as they trick-or-treat. No one is allowed to wear a polar bear costume, to avoid any confusion!
VIEWING BEARS IN A TUNDRA BUGGY
Neil Mumby welcomed us aboard his tundra buggy, a wide bus with many pairs of enormous, fire-engine wheels and a viewing balcony at the back. He drove us an hour out of town towards Buggy Lake, en route to Cape Churchill.
We crawled along on a bumpy lumpy uneven icy surface, spotting skittish Arctic foxes and a splendid red fox along the way.
Before long, a tangle of twelve legs — a female with two cubs — padded right up to us. The mother walked right up to us and stretched up to look through the high window. The cubs kept tapping the sow’s rear leg, and imploring her with “Waaah! Waaah!” cries. She settled down to nurse them, and we witnessed a scene full of tenderness in the setting sun.
Just after that, the bundle settled into a heart-tugging pose as one cub clambered on her back, and the other snuggled perfectly under her neck and chin.