The Great Bear Rain Forest

Forget the Northwestern United States – British Columbia’s Khutz is Where Bears Rule the River.
“Grizzly!”

Grabbing his bear spray, fly-fishing guide Logan Wilkins shouted, "Patricia, start walking slowly down the beach...NOW!"

Resting against a fallen tree trunk at the beach’s edge, river riffles muffled Logan's words. It was evident that Patricia’s view of the bear standing on the log peering at us from its sanctuary in the rainforest was blocked by the immense woodland.

Oblivious to any danger, Patricia responded by walking slowly up the beach toward the river. The grizzly on the other hand, thankfully reacted to Logan's authoritative command by retreating into the dense woodland. This is the sort of heart-stopping encounter that makes fishing this remote wilderness such an exciting adventure.

Fishing the Khutz

Wading for pink salmon in the Khutz River (known as “humpies” because of their rounded back), I spotted Logan with bear spray in hand and immediately got the message. Although my thighs continued to quiver after the incident, I stood fast fishing in the moving torrent. The encounter had lasted only minutes. After all, we were casting into the bears’ fishing hole, one they use each fall to bulk up on migrating salmon before winter hibernation. Just minutes before, two other curious grizzlies had ambled along the beach toward us. At Logan’s alert, we watched as the pair detoured from their salmon fishing grounds into the brush – obviously uncomfortable with our presence.

While sharing the fishing grounds with wild grizzly bears may have added a whole new level of excitement, fly-fishing the Khutz was more than just another great fishing experience. We enjoyed one of those rare days in the Great Bear Rainforest when the sun was shining, the cold water of the river flowed crystal clear, and the temperature an unusual high of 70-degrees. As I stepped into the brush to shed a layer of my clothing, I wondered if the grizzlies might be hunkering down in the alders to avoid the heat of the day, emerging only once the temperature began to drop. Throughout the morning, we had, somewhat nervously, scanned the beach and hillsides without a bear sighting, but we knew they were there as enormous paw prints and scat littered the river’s edge, and the recent afternoon sightings proved we were correct.

After helicopter pilot Chad Friesen lifted off the King Pacific’s Lodge dock, the 30-minute flight took us skimming over rugged peaks topped with glacial lakes then swooshing through narrow valleys. Patricia Werner, her husband Bill and I, communicated through our headset intercom of our anticipation of an exciting day of heli-fishing, and the probability of encountering grizzly bears, a species not found on Princess Royale Island, the location of our base camp, King Pacific Lodge. While black bear and the rare white spirit Kermode (a recessive gene black bear) are frequent sightings during lodge adventures, the grizzly is known to only inhabit the mainland of British Columbia.

The Bell 206 Jetranger set down on the beach next to the Khutz River (Tsimshian for long inlet in a steep valley) located on British Columbia’s mainland. Without shutting off his engine, Friesen lifted off as we turned our backs to a wash of flying sand. We had arranged a pick up for mid-afternoon. The four of us were now totally alone in the wilderness of the Great Bear Rainforest. That wonderful “mood of the mountain” offered fog banked crevices with steam rising from wet sandy areas on the beach. Closer to the river, the cobblestone shoreline was covered with rocks and boulders of various sizes. The river’s crystal green and blue glacial water provided great visibility of numerous schools of salmon migrating upriver to spawn including, pink, chum, and coho, the latter of which hang in the deeper, more protected water eddies of the Khutz and stop feeding when they enter a river system from the Pacific. Focused on surviving until they spawn, they become very territorial. A colorful streamer agitates them, and they strike furiously whenever the brightly colored pattern is presented.

Once salmon enter a river, their bodies soften, scar and begin to deteriorate. The jaw of the male becomes hooked. Better tasting salmon, like chinook and coho, are released to complete their spawning cycle, die, and enter the food chain, primarily as prey for bear, wolf, eagles and gulls. The water’s clarity and the sunny day made it easy to spot countless fish making this final upstream struggle. The gentle flow of the water and a sandy bottom made wading easy, too. The fish seemed oblivious to our presence or the quality of fly presentation. While casting in those conditions might be easy, catching was another story altogether. The fish averaged about six to nine-pounds, and with an eight-weight rod, they put up a respectable fight. The challenge was one of not snagging a fish that might take a while running circles around your legs, but rather to cast, hook, fight, and release one fish after another, all day long. That is the reason Patricia took a break next to the log. We were all suffering from bicep overheat.

After three hours of fighting fish, Logan suggested we stop to “pecker,” or take a break to enjoy a picnic lunch. Retrieving our food cached in a tree, we munched hungrily as we pondered paw prints in the sand. Long before we could see it, the echo of the helicopter’s rotor bounced off the cliff walls. The day had passed all too quickly. How rare are those days when everything is perfect including the weather, fishing, plus the added excitement of grizzly bear encounters?

The Clear Water Quall

During another fall spawning season, pilot Paul Tosczak skimmed the bright red Bell 206 helicopter just above the treetops into the Quall River Inlet so we could search the crystal-clear water for pink salmon. Spotting a school making their way upstream, Paul hovered, and then lowered the four-passenger helicopter gently into a green meadow filled with colorful summer flowers. Hopping out with the rotor still spinning, our guide, Wayne Boles, assembled two eight-weight fly rods with pink showgirls, a feathery fly that resembles a leech when soaked in the current. Fellow angler and photographer Carl Duncan and I, walked the short distance from the meadow to wade the river. “These fish aren’t interested in feeding. They’re on a mission!” Wayne continued, “But they’ll go for that flash of pink on the fly whenever it is placed in front of them.”

Sure enough, on my very first cast, I hooked a six-pounder, sea lice still attached to its tail - an indication that the fish just entered the river from its ocean journey as sea lice don’t live long in fresh water.

The clear water of the Quall enabled me to watch the salmon and brightness of the fly zip through the water. As I waded waist-deep along the river’s sandy bottom, salmon swam in circles around my feet as I followed them with the tip of the rod. Just then, a thunderous sound echoed off the canyon wall. I wondered if a storm could interrupt this glorious sunny day. “Oh, no” Wayne explained, “That’s just another avalanche caused by melting snow on the higher peaks of the coastal range.”

As we continued to hook fish after fish, Wayne noticed clumps of grass floating in the current – an indication of a bear feeding upstream. Having listened to his bear safety lecture (give them their space and back up), I queried as to whether he had brought a firearm. “No, this time of year they are only interested in berries but as more salmon enter the stream, this place will be loaded with hungry bear.”

Nearby, we could hear an owl hooting above the ripple of the current. When we had fished out the pool, Wayne suggested we move on. Thinking we would be wading upstream, Wayne pointed me toward the helicopter. Once again, we lifted off and after passing over the bear grazing upstream, we again began our aerial scouting. The day went quickly and as the sun began to drop behind the snow-capped peaks, our departure was expedited when Carl and Paul spotted a black bear headed our way. We gave him what rightfully belonged to the bears and headed back to the lodge.

On the return flight, Wayne pointed out Lowe and Klewnuggett Lake which they drop in to fish for trout. The isolation of the lakes leaves both of them only accessible by helicopter. With no competition from other anglers, they yield countless releases of native cutthroat and rainbow. The scenic 15 to 30-minute flight also passed over breathless fiords and inlets. After a day of heli-fishing, it’s hard to imagine wading side-by-side with other anglers competing for the same angler-savvy fish. This is undoubtedly the ultimate fly-fishing experience. British Columbia is simply one of those destinations that have to be on every anglers bucket list.

The Great Bear Rainforest

Twice the size of Yellowstone National Park, the Great Bear Rainforest encompasses 4.4 million acres, almost two-thirds or 250 miles of British Columbia’s central coastline. The isolated temperate rainforest is accessible only by float plane or boat. Noted for its 1,000 year old 300-foot red cedar, western hemlock, Douglas fir and 100-foot Sitka spruce trees, the 25,000-square-mile forest has more than 2,500 salmon runs, fish which return to the same rivers of their birth. It is also habitat for the Pacific’s southernmost coastal grizzly population. The unique combination of salmon, bear and forest ecosystem sustain the area’s healthy environment. One of the largest unspoiled temperate rainforests, Great Bear was established in February 2006 with an agreement between British Columbia’s provincial government and a coalition of conservationists, loggers, hunters, and First Nations people.

Home to hundreds of wildlife species including, cougars, wolves and bears, the Great Bear Rainforest’s biological diversity is the result of 10,000 years of evolution dating back to a time when glaciers of the Pleistocene epoch melted. The proximity of the ocean to the mountains provides a warm offshore flow creating an abundance of precipitation over mountain ranges, a phenomenon that creates its lush forest. From the northern coast of Vancouver Island to the Alaskan border, the Great Bear Rainforest is the ancestral home of nearly a dozen First Nations bands. Approximately 30,000 people reside in small villages or reserves and as guardians of the land; they care and live on its abundance. A visit to the Great Bear Rainforest is a visit back in time.

Mary L. Peachin is a Tucson, Arizona, travel writer and photographer whose byline appears in numerous outdoor and travel magazines, as well as in newspapers. She also authored the book, The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Sharks. Visit her website at www.peachin.com for more details.

Where To Toss The Bags

Climbing out of an amphibious Grumman Goose which had departed the runway of British Columbia’s village of Bella Bella to land in the waters of Barnard Harbour, King Pacific Lodge’s departing guests greeted us by saying, “We’re jealous that you’re arriving and we’re leaving.”

Deep in the heart of the Great Bear Rainforest, the luxury facility, owned and operated by Rosewood Resorts is anchored to the bank of Princess Royal Island. A massive stone fireplace divides a cozy reception area and lounge from the dining room. Adjacent is a game room, spa and an exercise room. Natural slate floors lead to a dry room where guests are provided with survival suits and rubber boots. The outside porch, complete with rocking chairs, overlooks a surrounding dock with glorious mountain views.

Guided fishing includes halibut and all species of salmon, chinook or spring, coho or silver, pink and chum, or ocean fly-fishing. Intoxicated by the experience of a world-class expedition as the next guest arrival float plane glides to the dock on an itinerary of three, four or seven days; it’s hard to resist welcoming incoming guests with the same regret that you are leaving.

King Pacific Lodge
888.592.5464
www.kingpacificlodge.com

Serious fishermen can also enjoy full days of salmon fishing at West Coast Resort’s Whale Channel anchored in the channel just north of Barnard Harbour, just out of visual sight of King Pacific Lodge. The floating lodge “follows” the salmon. Opening in late May, the lodge literally moves south to Milbanke Sound when the chinook salmon migrate in early July.

West Coast Resorts
800.810.8933
www.westcoastresorts.com

Bring Your Camera

A city carved out from the forest which surrounds it, Vancouver’s Stanley Park (www.seestanleypark.com) gives visitors a visual history of the natural habitat the city once was. The greenery of Stanley Park and the craggy, and frequently snow-capped peaks of the North Shore Mountains, combine to form a spectacular 180-degree view of Vancouver’s harbor, (www.portsalive.com) which offers tourists a variety of sightseeing tours.

The Granville Island Public Market (www.granvilleisland.com) features some of the most culturally diverse gastronomic delights from around the world representing Greek, Japanese, Indian, Polish and Italian culinary fare. Speaking of culture, how about Chinatown. Yes, Vancouver has one too – offering a walking tour which begins in a classical Chinese garden and meanders through the areas various specialty shops and vendors (www.awokaround.com).

For those who really love to shop and people watch, Robson Street, Vancouver’s premiere shopping district, is the place to be. Set in the heart of downtown, the street features over 200 brand-name stores, boutiques and restaurants (www.robsonstreet.ca). For families, a visit to the Vancouver Aquarium, Canada’s largest, makes for a fun-filled day, showcasing a number of exotic sea life exhibits throughout the year (www.vanaqua.org).

A sparkling, cosmopolitan and culturally diverse metropolis, Vancouver has been ranked by numerous publications as the top city in the world to visit. As the gateway to the Great Bear Rainforest, it is a destination that will require an overnight stay both coming and going. But don’t settle for a short layover, as Vancouver cannot be relished in less than three days.

Other Notes of Interest

About British Columbia

• Capital: Victoria
• Area: 364,764 sq mi
• Population: 4,402,931
• Currency: Canadian dollar (1CAD=$.95)

The Canadian Federal government is required to provide services in English and French, but the majority of the population speaks English. Some of its multi-cultural languages include Chinese, Punjabi, German, Italian, French, Filipino and Spanish.

While residents of British Columbia are comprised of all religions, almost a third of its population claimed to practice no religion during the last census.