 |
| Ursa major: lumbering among the grasses |
| photo: Barry Gilbert |
|
male grizzly bear, weighing around 1,100 pounds, ambles into the
Brooks River in Katmai National Park, Alaska, and catches twenty-three
salmon in just an hour and a half. These are tired, spawned-out
salmon drifting downstream in late autumn; nevertheless, they weigh
a good five or six pounds each. Such feasting is comparable to a
180-pound man eating twenty pounds of food and then serving himself
more.
The bear keeps eating for another hour, and another, for perhaps
six hours, or maybe twelve, and so on the next day and the next,
until it retreats well-fattened for its winter hibernation. It will
sleep for six months without losing any muscle tissue.
Renowned grizzly expert Barrie K. Gilbert Ph.D. '69 has studied
many such bears from observation towers built along rivers in Alaska
and British Columbia. A behavioral ecologist at Utah State University
for the past twenty-seven years, Gilbert tends to speak of his work
in scientific terms, but much of his motivation clearly comes from
the hope that his subjects--grizzlies, and bears in general--remain
a strong and vital presence on the planet. What intrigues him, and
has drawn him back to the nation's wilderness with grant money and
graduate students, is that the bears share the river not only with
each other but also with fishermen and bear-watchers. Everyone seems
to be getting along pretty well.
"It amazes me how differently bears respond to us depending
on our treatment of them," Gilbert observes. "I think
our eyes are being opened to how benign the relationship can be,
how accommodating bears can be when we give them half a chance."
As a survivor of a bear attack himself, Gilbert might seem an unlikely
ally. But his understanding of the interactions between bears and
people is all the more valuable now that the popularity of bear-viewing
tourism is growing. Over the last twenty years, the number of people
gathering to watch grizzly bears in Alaska's Katmai National Park
has tripled: More than 51,000 people came in 1999 alone. In British
Columbia, where coastal grizzlies also gather during salmon runs,
the steady supply of eco-tourists now supports around forty companies
that offer such "bear-watching services" as small-plane
flights over the fishing grounds. Some lodges and camps are booked
months ahead of time. One especially popular reserve in Alaska,
the McNeil River State Game Sanctuary, has had to limit its visitors
by issuing permits through a lottery.
 |
Is this good for the bears? Perhaps, says Gilbert. It may motivate
more people to support bear conservation, which involves touchy
issues like hunting quotas, logging, road building, and development.
It may also bring tourist dollars to local economies. However, he
warns, unchecked tourism could also disturb bears, scaring them
away from the rich salmon streams during the seasons when they most
need the calories. With this in mind, tour guides and lodge owners
have adopted voluntary guidelines much like those used by whale-watching
boats.
Grizzlies are complex creatures. Gilbert and his students have found
a great deal of variation among individual bears in terms of their
response to people. Younger grizzlies, or "subadults,"
often move into areas where older bears have been displaced by people.
Male grizzlies are usually more wary of people than females with
cubs; some mothers may even try to be close to people.
Duke zoologist Peter Klopfer, who was Gilbert's major professor
and remains a close friend, recalls with pleasure a bear-watching
trip he and Gilbert made two years ago after they'd kayaked around
Alaska's remote Aleutian Peninsula. "We finished a couple of
days early, so Barrie arranged for a pilot to take us over to Brooks
Falls in Katmai to see grizzlies. When we flew in, all the rangers
welcomed him--they knew him--and then they explained that they needed
him to solve what had become a huge problem. A female grizzly was
parking her cubs on the main trail every day and then going off
some distance to fish. Thus, the people trying to walk to the viewing
platforms couldn't pass along the trail. It was causing all sorts
of trouble. Barrie watched and studied this for about half an hour,
and then he started laughing. 'That mother bear is smart,' he told
them. 'She's figured out that her cubs are safe from male bears
if they're near people, so she's using the crowd as her babysitter.'
And he was absolutely right."
If coastal grizzlies of Alaska and British Columbia can thrive even
as people join them during the salmon runs, what does this say about
getting along better with grizzlies in places like Yellowstone and
Glacier National Park? Every year aggressive "problem bears"
in the Rockies have to be killed or moved because of conflicts with
people. Some of them have acquired a taste for food found around
campsites, especially during hunting season, and some are protecting
cubs. Others are reacting defensively, like the Yellowstone grizzly
that badly mauled Gilbert on a windy day in 1977. He was hiking
in the park's backcountry with a graduate student when they surprised
the bear; the student eventually managed to frighten it away.
Gilbert believes that the coastal bears of Alaska and British Columbia
are more tolerant of people because there is "more food, fewer
hungry bears, and thus less payoff to be aggressive." It doesn't
seem to have much to do with bear numbers; the density of bears
in Katmai is a hundred times higher than that of Yellowstone or
Glacier. These latter remnant populations are surrounded by human
settlement and human activity, and they are believed to be in trouble.
Their gene pools are weakened by a lack of movement of bears in
and out of the ecosystem. Their naturally low reproductive rate
makes many biologists wonder if there is enough breeding in Yellowstone
to keep the species from disappearing there. And the bears cannot
seem to stay out of trouble. In years of low food, especially when
the whitebark pine nut crop falls short, the bear's nose leads it
to wander out of the wilderness and into conflict with people. And
a problem bear is as good as dead. Humans, whether authorized or
not, are by far the leading cause of death for bears.
Grizzlies are not particularly territorial. They do have home ranges,
but the larger home ranges of males usually overlap with the ranges
of as many as five females. Where food is plentiful, there are more
bears per unit area and their home ranges are smaller. To Gilbert,
this implies that bears "do not have inherent behavioral limitations
to their densities," and that the key to restoring bears in
places like Yellowstone is to enhance the food supply in the remote
backcountry.
continues on page
two. |