As I glanced around the curved stone wall
on which I was perched, I noticed a large
black snout and a round ear suddenly appear
where earlier there had been nothing. The
partial black face was filling in quickly
as a forehead and shoulders began to take
shape. The ledge on which we stood was about
five feet about the ground and gave us a
good view of a small bear meadow of about
˝ acre, next to a choked filled salmon stream
filled with the last run of the season. I
did not realize that the ledge was in fact
a small path that lead around the rock wall
and provided a convenient way to get further
down stream to a point where a smaller creek
drained into the larger and a prime fishing
location for a hungry bear. The Black Bear
was about ten yards away when I first noticed
him and he was coming on without hesitation,
stopping every few seconds to look and test
the wind. About the same time I head Mike
Souflis, my guide whisper, "don't move".
The bear knew something was not right but
he could not figure what was wrong other
than the path was not looking like it should.
The bear came on and in a matter of a few
seconds the mature boar was only five feet
away. I watched his eyes shift from me to
Mike and then further down the path to my
wife, Carol. His nose was working the entire
time as he rolled his head back and forth
trying to pick up scent. We had a slight
breeze in our face but at this range it was
just a matter of time. Quicker that it takes
to say it, the bear swapped ends and was
gone. An errant whiff of wind had betrayed
us as he disappeared around the corner. Mike
and I agreed that the bear was a young boar
of about 200 pounds and was too small to
shoot. Earlier we had watched a smaller bear
walk across the meadow and into the stream
where he grabbed a salmon and walked back
into the woods to have dinner.
Carol and I had been living
aboard a 47 ft.
converted commercial fishing
vessel, The
Sally Girl with our guide
and boat captain,
Mike Souflis of Juneau,
Alaska. We were on
a 7 day bear hunt that
took us up and down
the Alaskan coast, through
the Stephens Straights,
about 70 miles south of
Juneau. The journey
from Juneau during a pretty
good storm took
us about 10 hours, to a
sheltered bay where
we anchored for the night.
The next morning
and five more hours put
us in Port Houghton
Bay which was fed by a
dozen or more salmon
choked streams picking
up the last run of
Pink Salmon. The bay was
about 12 miles long
and two miles wide at the
mouth. Our second
anchorage of the night
in another cove was
much like the first except
we were going
a shore to hunt. The wind
only permits hunting
in the very early morning
and early evening
when it switches from seaward
to blowing
down stream, as the air
cools in the valleys
and drainages. We could
only hunt from about
6:30 until 8:15 PM when
total darkness fell.
The weather did not disappoint
us either,
it really rained every
day like Mike said
it would. A typical 24
hour period was: Hard
rain all night, light rain
in the morning,
a brief brake about lunch,
hard rain in the
afternoon with heavy fog
and mist, clearing
to a steady rain when it
was about time to
hunt with rain until dark
when it really
started to rain hard again.
Gortex is worthless
since it will start leaking
on about the
3rd or 4th day. Helly Hanson
rain gear worked
great!
That evening we launched
from the boat in
an 18 ft. aluminum skiff
and twenty minutes
later we were going a shore
near the mouth
of a nice size stream with
a vanguard of
gulls, terns and eagles
pointing the way.
We tied the skiff with
an anchor line of
75 yards up on the beach
since it was low
tide. The tides in the
area were 19 ft. and
you had to allow for more
water on the beach
than when you left.
We sneaked a shore and
walked quietly through
conifer forests of Spruce,
Cedar and Hemlock
that some time reached
70 -80 feet before
you would see a branch.
These mature rain
forests also had undergrowth
of small bushes
2-3 ft high in spots which
could hide a good
size bear. We spent 20
minutes watching the
convergence of a smaller
stream into the
large one. There was no
activity other than
birds so we moved into
the woods and up the
small stream which was
choked with blow downs
and brush. Several hundred
yards up stream
it opened a bit where another
convergence
of yet two smaller streams
formed a gravel
bar. Standing on that bar
at 40 yards was
my first Black Bear, all
250 lbs of him.
We glassed him carefully,
deciding he was
too small. Mike whispered,
"I think
we can do much better"
( famous last
words!) The Alaskan coast
is famous for bears
up to 600 lbs and we were
hoping we could
find one that could produce
bragging rights.
We watched the bear until
he disappeared
down stream looking for
something to eat.
As we began to loose light
in the heavy forest,
we decided to reverse our
steps and return
the earlier location. We
got back to our
same spot began glassing
up the bigger creek.
Mike moved 50 yards further
in order to get
a better look while we
kept watch. We had
only been there a few minutes
when the bear
we had seen earlier popped
out of the woods,
40 yards away on small
grassy flat. We watched
him for about five minutes
as he checked
out the neighborhood and
who had passed through
recently, much like a dog
when you take him
for a walk, except Mr.
Bruin did not have
a leash.
The bear started up the
larger stream and
disappeared around a small
grassy knoll.
A few seconds later there
was a large ruckus
as we saw something brown
launch itself into
the air and then disappear.
My first thought
was, why are we seeing
seals up in fresh
water? The mystery was
cleared up in a few
more seconds when the bear
ran across the
steam, up the grass bank
and into the woods
with a wolf chasing him.
As Mike said later,
wolves don't like bears
and chase them off
the streams. My surprise
is wolves eat salmon
like everything else. A
few minutes later
we saw two more wolves
on the stream, as
close as 30 yards and actually
witnessed
one jump into the water
and trying to catch
a fish. The evening's excitement
ended as
darkness fell and we were
forced to return
to the boat.
Six evenings and two mornings of hunting
produced about eight bears, one being cinnamon
in color but nothing worth collecting. In
addition to the bear on the ledge, we had
them as close as 10 ft to 30 yards with the
longest distance at 160 yards. Our hunting
companion, Dan Victoria, a young police officer
from a small town in Connecticut, and his
guide Dale, collected a wolf and small black
bear with a bow. Both shots were 20 yards
or less and Dan went home very happy.
I alternated between a
rifle and bow depending
on where we were hunting
and how much cover
was available. One afternoon
we trolled for
King Salmon and kept a
couple for dinner
which we grilled on the
boat that evening.
It brought a new meaning
to the phase, Fresh
Fish!
During our trip we saw
numerous Humpback
Whales, Mountain Goat,
Sea Lions, Seals,
Bald Eagles by the score
and of course lots
of bears. Dan and Dale
had a close encounter
with a brown bear one night
as they side-hilled
around some blow downs
and stumbled onto
the bear in the dark. They
could not see
him but only heard him
woolf at them. Needless
to say they beat a hasty
retreat.
The surprise in this kind
of hunt is you
have a lot of down time
due to the wind.
There are only a few hours
a day you have
available so we spend a
lot of time napping,
watching movies and playing
cards. Carol
accompanied me on all of
our hunts, sitting
in the rain and cold wind,
hiking the creeks
and riding in the skiff
with a blowing rain
in our faces. Quoting her
she said, "It
was an adventure but I
will never do it again".
( Think of it ladies, four
men, one toilet,
one shower with a twelve
gallon hot water
tank, two guides who began
to stink on the
3rd day and all of this
on a 47 foot boat!
Her reward is a trip to
Aruba during the
holidays. I think she earned
it!)
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