24hourcampfire: Brown Bear on Chichagof

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#2494895 - 10/12/08 12:47 PM

Brown Bear on Chichagof

DaveKing
Campfire Regular

Registered: 03/15/02
Posts: 735
Loc: Damascus, MD

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A little of my hunt tale.

Brown Bears of Chichagof Island.

Ten days of adventure and 43 brown bears sighting later my 2008 bear hunt is over; the most enjoyable and will probably remain as the most memorable hunt of my life. I’m not really sure if there was any one issue that made this the best hunt, I guess it was the well planned and executed adventure and of course my wife and other fine folks in company. I’m not easily impressed by hunting and I’m not new to guided hunts or hunting, I’ve hunted caribou in Quebec, black bear in Alberta many times, elk in Colorado a few times, blacktail deer in California and dozens of whitetail in half a dozen states but this boat based hunt was truly impressive.

Participants

My wife, Cheryl, came along as she often does; she’s been elk, deer and boar hunting with me at various times. Dale Adam’s of Adams Alaskan Safaris was my outfitter and trusted guide, his wife Lori (as cook) and son Levi (as deck hand) as well as Larry (Lori’s father) as all-around good guy and videographer, Lucy (the deck dog) provided entertainment and some trash disposal services.

Preparations

Having zero experience with southeast Alaska and its weather I did a bit of floundering with clothing and gear. Dale Adams’ brochure stated in no uncertain terms that cotton was forbidden so I was on a quest for all non-cotton. I’d watched the weather patterns in the SE Alaska area and saw that 40-50 degrees was about the normal situation in late September and early October so cold weather gear would not be needed. I eventually ended up, after several forays into the internet, with some fine wet weather clothing and gear. The weather was expected to range from sun to heavy rain with mostly drizzle and light rain (expected daily). I bought a set of Simms Rivershed stocking-foot chest waders, and some size 12 Field & Stream Bighorn black felt sole wading shoes (my normal shoe size is 9 wide). For a raincoat a Helly Hansen Impertech in olive drab was the choice. I had a fair bit of fleece available from previous hunts, Patagonia base (thin) and middle layer (middle weight) stuff and some Columbia outer layer fleece (thickest layer) jackets, a couple of pairs of wool and smartwool socks filled the voids.

Rifle and Ammo

There are a lot of opinions on what is a good to ideal brown bear rifle, about the same as with any species I’d guess. Discussion upon discussion with various folks and searches on the internet revealed tons of information. I am not a recoil sensitive fella and have shot sporting type rifles chambered from the tiny 22 Hornet to the mighty 50 BMG. There seemed to be two major themes, handiness and reliability with stopping power in the reliability realm. For my spare (backup) rifle I opted for an early Marlin 45-70 lever gun I had that had a +P load worked up for it, a load of about the same power as the newer 450 Marlin. My main rifle was a custom Remington 700 chambered in 458 Winchester with a light Shilen barrel of 22 inches and a Leupold 1.5 x 5 VX-III, it weighed in at 8lbs 4ozs and bears the name Ol’ Hematoma. The 458 had a load that would push the 500 grain Hornady Interlock at 2025 fps, this seemed good for fast recovery for a second shot and still had plenty to penetration.

Dale carries a Winchester rifle chambered in 458 Win magnum, three rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber when we were on station. Dale also carries a Titanium S&W revolver chambered in 44 Rem. magnum in a shoulder holster.

Boat Clothes

For daily on-boat wear I dressed in standard blue jeans, flannel shirt and Lacrosse ankle high boots. If I need to be on the open deck I’d get in the H-H rain jacket and for the water sports like shrimping or crabbing I pulled on my waders.

The Daily Hunt Gear

My basic daily hunting gear was simple: base layer top, base layer bottom, thick socks, mid-layer top, mid-layer bottom, outer layer top then I’d pulled on my chest waders and H-H Impertech rain jacket out on the stern of the boat. I wore a standard ball cap all the time I hunted (olive drab sort of affair given to me by Dale) and carried a few pieces of cloth in various pockets to use in keeping the scope lenses clear. My spare cartridges, license and small items I had wedged into the little chest pocket of the waders, some cloth wrapped around the cartridges so they’d ‘clink’ less. I had a small daypack for a flashlight, a headlamp (LED and Halogen by Black Diamond), radio, gloves, lighter, knife, little camera, etc. I opted to use a daypack of Dale’s rather than the one I brought as my carry-on luggage; his was smaller and more water-resistant. Zip lock bags were a given for anything in the day pack that was not submersible. The rifles were not loaded until we were in an area of bears, magazine was loaded first and once we were in final position or going into the sneak mode a round would be chambered. Dale was very particular about when I could load my rifle with a chambered round.

Daily Routine

We’d sleep until about 7:30 AM then a short morning cleanup, shave etc. Breakfast was at about 8:00 AM or sometime later depending on the special events such as boat movement to an anchorage, early day hunt or some such event. Cheryl, my wife, would spend a fair bit of the day reading and sneak away for a nap just before noon unless we went on a beach exploring trip. Lunch came about 1:30 to 2:00 PM and was generally the largest meal of the day, something to work off on the hunt that generally began unfolding about 3:00 PM. We’d gear up and I’d get asked the same three questions each day before the skiff would leave the boat: Got your licenses? Got your gun? Got your bullets? We’d hunt until the world of shadows was in charge and I could no longer clearly see to shoot then we’d head back to the skiff and motor back to the boat, this was generally about 7:00 PM. Once we were back onboard we’d head to the engine room to hang our wet gear so it’d be dry for the next hunt. Waders were hung inside out to dry the condensation while wading shoes stayed on deck in racks. The rifles were stored in a rack inside near the door to the aft deck. I’d go to my stateroom and change back into my boat clothing and hang the fleece to dry. Supper would appear on the table about 8:00 PM and we’d hang around and tell stories or on occasion we’d watch a video of previous hunts (the Shishmaref musk ox hunt was a good one I recall). Bedtime seemed to be about 10:00 for many with Larry (Dale’s father-in-law) staying up late to read.

The Airlines and TSA

We flew Northwest Airlines to Seattle then Alaska Air to Sitka with stops in Minneapolis on NWA and Ketchikan in AK. Cheryl and I each had one carry-on bag along with one checked bag apiece. I checked the two rifles and 80 rounds of ammunition in the double rifle wheeled StarLight case while she checked the duffle bag full of waders, boots, fleece and such. We each carried a back-pack for checked baggage, it contained all of my electronics, binos, compass, boat clothes (jeans and a shirt), underwear and socks. I had no grief from the airlines or TSA on the guns or ammo, straight forward follow the rules and it worked fine again. We arrived in Sitka about 6:30PM and were met by Dale Adams, Skip and Larry then got driven to the Sitka Motel by Dale for check-in and a meal. The Sitka Motel was nice with friendly folks, we stayed on the new side with our own private bathroom. Dale stated he’d be back at 7:00 in the morning to pick us up for the drive to the boat and he also took our checked baggage straight to the boat so we didn’t need to carry it around.

The Boat

The boat, Surveyor, was a pleasant surprise to see, white with a hard covered rear deck area. Surveyor is about 65ft long and of good width. There are three staterooms, one on the main deck (Captain’s quarters), two forward at the bow a half-deck down and a crews quarters on the lower deck amidships. The guests staterooms are two bunk versions with a skylight hatch for light and air (when opened) each is equipped with a doored closet large enough for plenty of clothes and several coat hooks on the walls in the room, there is also a mirror. The bunks were comfortable and spacious, my wife and I shared the lower bunk, a little close but not uncomfortable leaving the upper bunk for gear and bags (linen was provided).
The pilot house was spacious and we were allowed to visit freely to pester the Capt and whoever else was up there. There was the Capt’s chair of course, two stools and a couch/bunk for sitting or sleeping. Lots of electronics: radios, radar, computer for chart display and GPS position, about 50 gazillion switches for pumps, fans, engines, fuel and entertainment. There was also a journal with pictures about Ben Forbes, an interesting view of early Alaska and brown bear hunting. Dale had plenty of stories of “old Ben” as he called him, it was obvious Dale had great respect for Old Ben.
The galley was nice, microwave and conventional oven, cook stove, coffee pot, refrigerator, double sink and a nice window view. We had a lot of good meals prepared in that galley. The main seating area contained a table large enough to easily seat six folks without bumping elbows. There was a small Sig Marine stove for heat. Just at the door to go onto the aft main deck there was a rifle/gun rack, four or five hole affair that held the rifles secure even in the rigors of open ocean. Below decks forward was the engine room, main engine and two diesel generators (an 8k and 12k as I recall). Aft on the lower deck in the hold was where the extra dry foods, freezer and large bags (rifle cases) were stored.
There was a nice head with sink for a morning shave and tooth cleaning (fart fan and port hole too), there was also a proper shower (towel and wash cloth provided) with a sink and mirrored porthole.
There’s room for two skiffs onboard, they nest over the hard aluminum shell that covers the rear deck. They’re launched with the power crane/davit thing that the Capt operates. The skiffs were powered by 25hp Yamaha outboards and appear to comfortably seat 4 folks normally but could hold about 85 worried folks if it were the only vessel available in heavy seas.

Individual Daily Hunts

Day 1

Dale met us bright and early at the motel and we headed for the boat. The Surveyor was docked at the head of the pier and we clumped straight from the truck to the boat, about 30 feet total. We cast off lines at about 10:00AM and headed north toward Chichagof Island at 8kts. It was clear and calm, somewhat overcast day but devoid of rain. During the 6 or so hour transit to our first hunt we managed to spot some humpback whales, one of which was bubble netting herring close to the boat. There was also a small raft of sea otters, a blacktail deer swimming south to north across the Kakul Narrows headed toward Bradshaw Cove. There were other critters about, eagles and the ubiquitous seagull and of course we sighted a flock of flamingos perched in a tree (a local prank attraction) on either Olga or Neva Straits.
We anchored at South Arm Hoonah Sound and launched the skiffs just before lunch, about 3:00PM I’d guess. We had pasta with carrots, corn-on-the-cob and various drinks: soda, coffee, milk, juice and water (salt or fresh) for lunch.
Just after lunch, as would become the normal routine, we dressed up for the evening hunt. Fleece, waders and raincoat, rifle, license, cartridges, binos and we’re ready for my first brown bear hunt evening. I carried the Marlin 45-70 with the lighted reticle 30mm Leupold 1.5x5, I thought I’d like to give the lighted reticle a try. Dale had his standard well worn Winchester model 70 chambered in 458 Winchester with the low power Leupold. We piled into the skiff and motored toward the shore where we exited the boat and shoved it back out to anchor it below the low tide mark.
I had not previously seen this method of anchoring so I’ll describe it for others that have not anchored where there is a significant tide. The anchor is secured to the skiff by a standard anchor rope of about 20 foot length, there is also a long floating yellow poly rope secured to the anchor, this secondary rope is the one retained by the boatman on shore when the boat is pushed back out into the open water. The boatman exits the boat on shore, places the anchor on the gunwale so it can be easily pulled overboard once the boat is far enough out to anchor in deep water, he lets go enough line from the yellow poly rope to allow slack and pushes to boat out paying out line at the boat floats away. Once the boat is in deep water the boatman gives the yellow poly line a short haul and dumps the anchor off its perch on the gunwale, he then secured the shore end of the yellow poly line to a rock or tree above the high tide mark. Upon return he takes the shore line and rapidly pulls the boat to shore with the yellow poly line, this rapid pulling ensures the anchor stays clear of the bottom so as not to snag in the rocks on the bottom. Now back to the evening hunt.
We’re on a large tidal flat at low tide, this flat has a salmon stream meandering lazily through it. I asked Dale about my position near or behind him as we head inland, he stated I should remain close behind and near enough that he can take one step to the rear and side and be along side me so that we can talk and I can immediately shoot, this will be our traveling formation for the majority of the hunts. Dale informs me that we can walk across the tidal flat nearly anywhere so long as we’re below the high tide mark, the tide will erase our scent in the tidal zone but once we’re near the high tide mark we must remain in the stream to ensure we leave no scent on the ground as we head upstream. Dale tells me to load rounds into the magazine of the rifle, no round in the chamber just yet. After about a 300 yard walk we’re at the high tide line and already we’re in the stream, a narrow stream of about 12 to 15 yards, the water is fast moving in places but not too deep as a rule, there are many mid-thigh and some waist deep pools with slower moving water, we tend to stay near the edge in ankle deep water if possible. About 500 yards upstream we rounded a bend to a view of another short stretch of stream just where the tidal flat ends and evergreens and alders begin to grow, at this point we each immediately spot a bear moving in a log jam. Dale stops and we view a sow and a cub fishing in a shallow pool formed downstream of the logs, this is my first in-the-wild brown bear sighting. It was not overwhelming for me, they were still better than 100 yards away but we had spotted them before they spotted us and I was pretty pleased with seeing them act natural… I did manage to combine sow and cub once to form the “COW” response when whispering to Dale. After a short 15 or 30 seconds we’re on the move again, slowly advancing on the sow and cub but it wasn’t long before the sow spotted us and took her cub and headed into the timber. We pass the log jam with its pool of salmon and rounded another bend in the stream, this section of stream parallels the tree line with some small alders on the beach side and evergreens on the opposite. We can clearly see the next bend in the stream, a bend just where the stream enters the big timber, large pines on both sides of the stream at the bend. Dale and I cover about half the distance to the far bend and hunker down just behind a large deadfall (there had been a nailed in tree stand in this log as evidenced by the remaining piece of 2by lumber). Our packs come off and we’re now in the place from where we’ll observe bears in the stream until dark, we each load a cartridge into the chamber of our rifles. It is about 50 yards to the far right hand bend beyond which we can’t see and there is also a small blind spot just on the left of the stream at the bend. After a few glances back downstream to assure myself the sow was not a blood thirsty killer stealthily sneaking up on us I finally settled down and enjoyed the evening and scenery.
Dale told a few stories of the man he knew that used the tree stand in the now down tree we were leaning against, he also managed to get in a few more tales and answered about 3 thousand questions as I asked them: Will that sow come back? Are you sure she’s not just around the corner with her blood thirsty friends? Will the cub grow up to be a man-eater like the sow? Did you hear something? Are there mosquitoes in Alaska? Is it true salmon will attack me and gouge my eyes out if I slip and fall in the stream? How do I pee while wearing these chest waders? Did you hear that? How fast can a bear run? How fast can you run? Why are you shaking your head and laughing? Are you sure that sow… A loud splash ahead of us surprises me to full alertness and as if by magic a brown bear is now in the middle of the stream at the bend with a fish in its mouth. My eyelids were stretched as far open as they’ve ever been, even further than when as a kid I found my first Playboy magazine. The solitary bear slowly walks to the left at the bend and climbs up into the blind spot, presumable where it was previously perched. Now the chat and questions are over and we’re hunting bears, stealthy bears in my opinion (I’m now a seasoned, 30 minutes experienced brown bear hunter with small bits of turd in my waders). Dale glassed the bear through his 20x stabilizing Zeiss binoculars for a while and appears not too concerned or excited but we both watch for the bear to arrive again, we don’t wait long and it’s back in the stream again but this time it crosses and is on the bank opposite our side. The bear slowly begins to walk down the rocky bank in our direction and Dale declares “small sow”. She advances down stream and at about 20 yards distant she apparently spots the change in the shape on the downed log Dale and I are leaning against, she starts across the stream to check us out. She is headed directly for us, clearly intent on discovering what we might be and if we’re friend, foe or food. Once she is about 15 yards from us Dale slowly stands up to full height in plain and full view to let her know what we’re about. She stops in mid-stream and Dale talks to her a bit, a slow steady monotone voice, a conversation something like “Where are you going little girl? We’re over here, why don’t you go back up and fish at the bend where you were? This is our spot, yours is up there so go back up there and fish, we won’t bother you there.” The sow stood her ground for a while then slowly turned and retreated back up the stream bank to the bend every once in a while stopping to look back. Once she was at the bend she turned completely in our direction and lay down on the sandy bank, head on paws to watch us. She lay there for a what seemed like a long while, head up every few minutes to check on us and then look in the stream for a close fish, I couldn’t help but get the idea she wished she had a remote to put us on “hold” so she could fish. After about 15 minutes she tried to flush us out, she got up and walked about the bend into the alders and weeds only to stand up to peek over the top of the weeds to see if we would follow I guess. She did this a few times, up into the alders a bit and stand up to look. Eventually she must have determined the tactic was flawed and she came back to the bend and crossed the stream to the side we were on, it was now obvious she was going to come and check us out again. Sure enough, she appeared out of the blind spot slowly approaching us sneaking through the alders, silent, intent and slow, 40 yards, 30 yards, on she came until eventually she was at the root ball of the log we were leaning against, now perhaps less than 10 yards and out of sight. Dale looks to the left of the root ball and I’m looking to the right waiting to see what she’ll do….. She’s on the right, about 12 yards and turning to walk straight to us; it seems she wants to shake hands. Again Dale has a talk with her and she gets a really close look at us, she decides to leave for good, well maybe for good and strolls off into the alders sort of upstream. She continued to sneak around in those alders and peek at us for a few more minutes but soon lost interest and disappeared into the timber for good, finally.
Dale and I look at each other, I’m sure he was trying to see how I felt about that close encounter but I’m more intrigued by his discussions with the bear, it just didn’t occur to me that he’d be talking to the bears on a regular basis.
Not long after this I hear Dale say “get your rifle, this one’s a shooter”, I keep my rifle close at hand so there’s little movement as I grasp the grip on the Marlin and reach up to raise my binoculars to my eyes with my left hand. Up at the bend, on the far side stands a large bear, I can see little ears on the sides of its head, a light colored scar on its forehead and long, long white claws, then I see a cub, two cubs then three and Dale is saying “Cubs? Its a big old sow!” Dale points out the long white claws, yellowed muzzle and yellow rounded teeth stating she must be 20 years old at least. She’s large, I can clearly see that and with three second year cubs. It was a majestic sight in a way, she was at the bend in the creek standing on a lump of tree root looking over the stream and surroundings, like an old queen at a review. The cubs piled past her and into the stream, one cub had a fairly long string of tape worms trailing, “too much fish in her diet” Dale states with a little chuckle. It is getting near dusk, the timber is dark and as the old sow begins to more we can see her feet better, smallish ankles and feet, sort of odd seeing those apparently small ankles and feet on such a large bear, Dale estimated she’s about an 8’4” bear, I of course had to agree (being the new resident bear expert in present company). The old sow slowly walked the stream and once again got on shore on our bank, she followed the earlier little sow’s path straight toward us. Dale tells me to follow him and back further into and if necessary across the stream to give the old queen and cubs some room to pass without feeling crowded. With rifles in hand and packs left behind we slowly head across the stream, no sudden movements, just a deliberate pace and once near the far shore (we moved about 10 yards) Dale tells me to stand along side him to allow the sow and cubs to see that there were two human critters in attendance. The sow got to within about 35 yards before she spotted us and after a short but direct examination she turned and moved off back toward dark timber at a little bit faster shuffle, cubs in tow. Dale and I make our way back to the log and our gear to once again hunker down to await the next surprise.
We watch closely now, its getting dark but every once in a while we talk a bit in low tones. “Did you hear that? Want some bug dope?” A few times Dale stood full up to glass back down stream to determine if a sound was a bear fishing or a fish flopping, mostly it was fish flopping.
Dusk turns into the time when the shadows rule, short logs and their shadows become bears, bushes become bears the entire familiar scene becomes foreign. The landscape and everything else takes on a two-dimensional quality, the time just before dark when it is not possible to tell if an animal is a quartering away or quartering to, distances and size are unknown and shadows seem to move. Checking through the scope I can tell dark from light, the lighted reticle indicates the center of the scope but I can’t tell shadow from log, it is now too late to shoot at other than just a few yards. Dale and I pack up our gear to begin the trek back to the skiff while we can still make out the rocks and logs in the stream and can avoid bumping into a bear, we take the cartridge from the chamber but leave the magazine loaded. Back down the stream, past the logs where the sow and cub fished, through the deep pools and onto the tidal flat. We stop to glass the expanse of tidal grass, it is a bit easier to see here, the light yellow grasses make a good backdrop to the dark objects but there are no bears to be seen. At the boat Dale retrieves the man-winch, his spool of yellow poly line and begins to reel in the slack then the anchor and skiff. The skiff ride is short, the night is clear and we can easily see the Surveyor anchored in the cove, it is good to be headed back for the evening.
We are greeted by Larry and Lucy, both apparently equally anxious to see us. Our gear is handed over to Larry on the boat and the skiff attached to the tow line. We empty and stow the rifles in the rack, take our packs to the engine room to dry and change out of our waders and jackets hanging them inside out to dry then off to staterooms to change fleece to boat clothing.
We had supper of pasta and rhubarb crisp filling in the empty places with chat about the evening bear hunt, so ended day 1 of 10.

A small sow we followed on day 10.

A sow and cubs beginning their fishing a little early.

More to come on the hunt if there is an interest.

_________________________
Call me Mr. Mondegreen.