Whales in the wilderness

Swimming with beluga whales and watching polar bears in Canada’s Hudson Bay entrances Sarah Marshall

e all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine . . . ” As I gurgle the Beatles’ classic through a snorkel, I wonder what the Fab Four would make of their lyrics being used to attract the attention of beluga whales.

Face down, with my legs looped through a long rope tied to a Zodiac boat, I rattle through a repertoire of cetacean-inspired songs, as I’m dragged like bait along the Churchill River.

Licence To Krill; Ba-leen On Me; He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Blubber — bad puns are at least a mild distraction from the numbing 5C water temperature.

Every year, from June until September, 59,000 beluga whales congregate in Canada’s Hudson Bay to feed on capelin fish; the world’s largest gathering of the whale species. Several operators have realised the enormous potential for tourism and word is slowly spreading about the range of beluga-related activities on offer.

Dressed in dry suits for thermal insulation, we head out at high tide, when water from the Hudson Bay supposedly makes the river clearer.

I hear them first, a high-pitched clicking sound, as if the dial has suddenly slipped on to Radio Whale.

White shapes appear through the murky, teacoloured water, like ghostly apparitions diving in and out of focus. They soar underneath me, flipping over to get a better view and even twist their necks, before vanishing in an explosion of bubbles.

Hudson Bay’s gateway town, Churchill, is best known as the Canadian Arctic’s polar bear capital, where hundreds of marine mammals gather on the frozen freshwater in September. A twoand-a-half-day train journey across barren prairies from Manitoba’s capital Winnipeg (or a two-hour flight), it sits at the end of the track, with only wilderness beyond.

Once a thriving port and military base, this frontier town has slowly been abandoned.

Since the 1970s, when urban myth suggests an entrepreneur started polar bear tourism by ferrying people around on a recliner chair strapped to the back of a truck, Churchill has become a From above: Beluga whales swimming in Churchill River; polar bears play on the edge of the Hudson Bay near Churchill; Fireweed-covered island at sunset, Hudson Bay. bit of a circus, a victim of its own popularity.

But in summer, it’s quieter — yet there’s still so much to see. Clusters of chamomile flowers and microscopic orchids flourish from every possible rocky crag.

Guide Wally Daudrich came here in 1980 and opened his cabin, Lazy Bear Lodge (lazybearlodge.com), five years later. It is made with fire kill wood (leftovers from trees destroyed by forest fires) and reclaimed items.