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 |  Day 2 Location: Passing Little Cornwallis Island We encounter our first polar bears |
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I woke at 5:30 A.M. after a restless night's sleep. My hands were blistered clubs and hurt every time I touched something. Overnight enormous blood blisters had formed to reach all the way down to the second joint of each finger except my left little finger, which had somehow escaped freezing. I knew I had to keep the blisters intact so that my hands wouldn't become raw and bleeding. It would be better to use my heavy mitts as much as possible even though they were clumsy. I thought back to the previous morning, remembering the crazy repacking of my sled with gear ending up in all the wrong places as I just stood there not wanting to offend anyone. I decided what is done is done. One learns one's lessons the hard way sometimes and, besides, if that was to be the only problem of the whole expedition, then I would consider myself lucky. Reaching over I painfully and slowly unzipped the tent door to inspect the new day. Just like yesterday, the wind had dropped. I looked out at cold, clear skies and a light northerly wind. Another beautiful Arctic day.
Charlie was up and looking at his empty bowl. I crawled out of my sleeping bag, creating a minor snowstorm as I brushed against the frost-covered tent roof while I pulled on my jacket. I'm normally a morning person but there was something about the intense cold, the tent frost down my neck, and my sore hands that made that morning most unappealing. But it was time to greet Charlie and start the day. Stepping out of the tent, still in my insulated blue camp booties, I looked around for bears or tracks and saw none, but I was surprised to notice that the shore ice with its jagged blocks and pinnacles ended only one hundred feet from my tent. In the settling light of last evening it had looked as if l was at least four hundred yards from the closest rough shore ice. It was my first lesson in the sly nature of the changing Arctic light and the way it affected depth perception. Charlie was bouncing up and down at the end of his chain looking well rested. I hugged him good morning as his soft tongue wiped across my face. I poured what looked like a pound of dog food into his bowl, which he attacked with gusto. It was only six o'clock, so l decided to have a leisurely breakfast of a bowl of granola, milk powder, coconut flakes, raisins, and butter mixed with warm water. I sat on my sled to enjoy the 111 effect of my first breakfast of the expedition only to find that after the third spoonful it was frozen. So much for leisurely breakfasts! I added more warm water and ate the rest as fast as possible. Then I melted enough ice to fill two vacuum bottles with water and a carbohydrate powder. The dry Arctic air holds little moisture, causing quick dehydration of the body, which, in turn, causes early fatigue and reduces the body's ability to keep warm, so fluid would be just as important as food to keep my energy reserves up, I put my day's supply of crackers, cashews, walnuts, and peanut butter cups in my day food bag along with the two vacuum bottles and slipped everything down into the front of the sled bag. Then, remembering Charlie's appetite for crackers, I added a few more. Last to be packed was the tent. I was completely engrossed in finding a way to twist the tent ice screws out of the ice so that my hands wouldn't scream in protest when suddenly I heard a deep, long growl coming from the depths of Charlie's throat. In a flash I looked at him and then in the direction in which he was staring. I knew what I would see even before 1 looked. A polar bear! It was a female followed by two cubs coming from Bathurst Island, slowly, purposefully, plodding through the rough shore ice toward me. They were two hundred yards away. With a pounding heart I grabbed my loaded rifle and flare gun and carefully walked sideways a few steps to Charlie, who was snarling with a savagery that caught my breath. Without taking my eyes off the bear, I unclamped Charlie from his ice anchor and, again walking sideways, I led him to the sled where I clipped his chain to a tie-down rope. The bear, now only 150 yards away, wasn't stopping. Her cubs had dropped back but she came on with a steady measured stride while I frantically tried to remember all the Inuit had told me. Keep eye contact, move sideways or slightly forward, never backward, stay calm, don't show fear, stand beside a tent, sled, or other large object to make my five feet three inches appear as large as possible. Don't shoot unless forced to. Don't wound a bear, you'll make it even more dangerous, and never run. Repeating to myself, "Stay calm, stay calm" I fired a warning shot to the bear's left. The loud explosion of the .538 had no effect. On she came. I fired a flare, landing it a little to her right. Her head moved slightly in its direction but she didn't stop. I fired another flare, this time dropping it right in front of her. She stopped, looked at the flare burning a bright red on the white ice, then looked at me. She was only one hundred feet away now, By this time my nerves were as tight as violin strings and my heart could have been heard at base camp. The bear began to step around the flare, and I dropped another flare two feet in front of her. Again she stopped, looked at the flare and at me. Then she fixed her tiny black eyes on Charlie, who was straining at the end of his chain, snapping and snarling trying to reach her. She looked back at her cubs. I could sense her concern about Charlie's snarling, rabid act and her cubs. She waited for her cubs to catch up, then moved to my left in a half circle. In spite of my sore fingers I fired two more flares in quick succession, trying to draw a line between her and me. She stopped, then finally moved away toward my right. The whole episode lasted fifteen minutes but seemed years long. I was a nervous wreck. My hands were shaking as I stood still holding my rifle and flare gun, watching the trio slowly move north. But in spite of the mind-numbing fear that still gripped me, I could feel deep down inside a real satisfaction. I now knew that I could stand up to a bear in the wild stay calm enough to function and still remember the words of wisdom from the Inuit. With Charlie's help I had passed my first test. |