Living the life of Riley

Russia | Anno 2019

 

Friday 26 July | Grassy Point Lodge – Khakytsyn

Saturday 27 July | Khakytsyn – Ozernaya

Sunday 28 July | Khakytsyn

Monday 29 July | Grassy Point Lodge – Mutnovsky

 

 

Friday 26 July | Grassy Point Lodge – Khakytsyn

It must have been a tremendous blow, the explosion that occurred around 6450 BCE in the south of Kamchatka, creating Kurile Lake. Even for Kamchatka, where they are quite accustomed to volcanic eruptions, this explosion had an unprecedented force. Volcanologists rank it among the top ten worldwide over the past... 25 million years.

Volcanologists rank it among the top ten worldwide over the past... 25 million years

In total, about 150 km³ of volcanic material was ejected into the air. If you were to spread that evenly over the territory of the United Kingdom, you would get a layer 62 centimetres thick. Undoubtedly, this eruption strongly influenced the global climate at the time.

Today, Kurile Lake covers an area of 76 km² and has a depth of 316 meters, making it the second largest lake in Kamchatka. As early as 1882, the Russian tsar deemed it necessary to grant legal protection to the entire south of Kamchatka. Because, as it appeared then, the lucrative hunting of fur-bearing animals threatened to completely wipe out the wildlife population.

South Kamchatka is a zakaznik, a nature reserve enjoying the second highest level of protection in Russia. With an area of 2,250 km², it is slightly larger than the province of Flemish Brabant. Given its status as a nature reserve, tourism is prohibited by law. However, this is creatively managed. Visits like ours are always referred to as scientific excursions. For such activities, the Russian government is allowed to issue permits.

Given its status as a nature reserve, tourism in South Kamchatka is prohibited by law

Kurile Lake – Grassy Point Lodge

Exploring the surroundings of Kurile Lake is usually done from the Grassy Point Lodge, where the MI‑8 helicopter from Vityaz-Aero has just dropped us off. This will be our base for the next three nights, situated approximately ninety meters above sea level, at roughly the same latitude as London.

Observing bears is one of the main reasons for coming to Kamchatka

A brief exploration reveals that the lodge, naturally constructed entirely of wood, is located on an elevation on a small peninsula, offering a magnificent view of the sun-drenched surroundings of Kurile Lake. We climb to the balcony and immediately spot a female bear with two cubs in the distance near the mouth of a river. Then, it turns out there's another bear closer by, this time a male. And even closer, another one is grazing. Observing bears is one of the main reasons for coming to Kamchatka, and it seems we'll have plenty of opportunities in that regard.

 

Sanitary facilities

Bedroom

Everything a traveller needs is present in the lodge, albeit usually in a compact, Spartan version. We've already noticed the sanitary facilities, which are located outdoors under a shelter. The two bedrooms, each measuring four meters by four and a half, are equipped with bunk beds for eight people each. There's not much space, but with a bit of goodwill and carefulness, we can avoid accidentally stepping into our neighbour's pyjama pants. Most of the luggage is inevitably banished to the hallway.

 

Dining room

Cook Nadya at work

In the little kitchen, it's cook Nadya who calls the shots. This gentle forty-something will provide us with meals three times a day – simple fare, but tasty and nourishing. In the dining room, a long table and four benches offer just enough space to enjoy Nadya's dishes without too much elbowing. Reportedly, there's also a shower available somewhere on the ground floor, but we haven't been able to locate it yet. In any case, over the next few days, we'll surely find ourselves in a tightly scheduled rotation for its use.

The way the Ilyinsky rises with its perfect cone shape above the tranquil water leaves no one indifferent

Iyjinsky

As much as we enjoy seeing bears, we'd rather not encounter them inside the lodge. That's why it's completely surrounded by an electric fence. Our instructions are strict – under no circumstances are we allowed to leave the fenced area without the accompaniment of a ranger. If we have any doubts about this, we can always take a look at the memorial stone for Michio Hoshino, a famous Japanese nature photographer with extensive experience with wildlife. He was killed here by a bear in 2008.

 

Bristle-pointed iris

Just after three o'clock, the time has come. Our first bear excursion is about to begin. Three armed rangers, along with our tour guide Christina, will accompany our group. Kosha is in charge; he's recognizable by his bandana and stern gaze. Then there are the calm Ivan and the cheerful Lana. In their camouflage suits, they will hardly stand out in the wilderness. Why Kosha wears conspicuously fluorescent shoes under his camouflage suit is not immediately clear.

As cuddly as bears may sometimes seem, they remain wild animals. So, we have some agreements to strictly adhere to, Kosha explains. The rangers will divide themselves among the group – Kosha at the front, Ivan in the middle, Lana at the rear. As long as we form a closed group, bears will leave us alone. Therefore, we never venture out alone, and we ensure that no gaps appear in the line while walking. If we want to take a photo, we should signal Kosha so that the entire line stops momentarily.

 

Rangers Ivan, Kosha and Lana

As cuddly as bears may sometimes seem, they remain wild animals

A cold wind blows toward us from across the water. In the distance, we see the island of Serdtse Alaida, the Heart of Alaid. In fact, it's a lava plug from the volcano that erupted here more than eight thousand years ago. But the Itelmens, the indigenous people of this area, have a different explanation. According to their legend, there was once an impressive volcano here. This Alaid was undeniably the largest and most beautiful volcano in the surrounding area. It was so large that it obscured the view of the sun from the other volcanoes. Constant lamentation and wailing ensued. Eventually, Alaid surrendered and moved to a place far out in the sea where it wouldn't bother anyone. But its heart remained in Kamchatka in the form of this rocky island.

 

Kambalny

Three volcanoes now dominate this area, according to Kosha. One of them, the Ilyinsky, caught our attention immediately upon landing. The way its perfect cone shape rises above the tranquil water on the other side leaves no one indifferent. The Kambalny, on the other hand, has been so often ravaged by eruptions that it's hardly recognizable as a volcano anymore. Then there's the Diky Greben. That sounds more like the name of a third-rate Hollywood actor than that of a volcano. Its bizarre name is due to its rugged, jagged silhouette, Kosha explains, because in Russian, that translates to Wild Ridge.

 

Ilyinsky with Kamchatka brown bears

Mouth of the Khakytsyn

The fact that the meltwater from the mountain is ice-cold doesn't seem to bother the bears

Enough talking, we leave the fenced area behind and enter bear country. A boardwalk leads us through the bushes to a beach of stones, pumice, and volcanic debris. The presence of bear droppings proves that we're not the only ones who appreciate the comfort of this path. Via the beach, we reach the spot where the Khakytsyn River flows into Kurile Lake. There, a wooden observation platform with two floors has been erected. Bars completely shield the ground floor, so we don't have to worry about unwanted bear visits here. As much as we enjoy seeing bears, we prefer not to see them come too close.

 

The mother is twelve years old, while the cubs were born this spring

 

As for bears, this place never disappoints around this time of year. Bears are always present. And now is no exception. A handful of brown bears roam through the shallow water, including a female with two cubs. The mother is twelve years old, Kosha informs us, while the cubs were born this spring and are therefore six months old. They rely entirely on their mother for food and protection.

 

 

 

 

As the season progresses, more and more bears will show up. The reason for this is not hard to find – it's the spawning season of the salmon. Literally millions of red salmon, the so-called sockeyes, will once again make their way from the Pacific Ocean to this lake. For Kamchatka brown bears, this is the grand feast.

 

For Kamchatka brown bears, this is the grand feast

 

Kurile Lake is known for being home to the largest salmon population in Asia. The reason for this is also not hard to find. The active volcanoes that occasionally spew their mineral-rich ashes over the area make these waters exceptionally fertile. Because minerals – especially silicon – are an important food source for planktonic organisms such as diatoms. Copepods, in turn, feed on diatoms, while red salmon continuously feast on copepods. And bears, well, they love red salmon. Being picky eaters, bears will typically start by devouring the posterior part of a salmon. This is because the protein-rich roe of pregnant females is located there – a whopping 80 calories per bite. It's bad news for a salmon caught in a bear's claws because it often remains alive as the bear bites off its tail.

 

An adult bear effortlessly consumes one hundred thousand calories in a day, fifty times more than the average person can handle

Begging is futile; the mother bear remains unperturbed and continues to nibble away

All in all, an adult bear effortlessly consumes one hundred thousand calories in a day, fifty times more than what the average person can handle. It's no wonder then that the Kamchatka bear, second only to the Kodiak bear of Alaska, is the largest brown bear in the world. But it's not gluttony that drives brown bears to eat so much; it's pure survival. To endure the long, harsh winter, they must build up strength throughout the summer.

For bears, the mouth of the Khakytsyn River is an ideal spot to catch salmon. Here, the flowing water loses its speed, causing some of the sediment to settle. In the shallow water that forms as a result, salmon are easy prey for bears with some experience. The fact that meltwater from the mountains is ice-cold doesn't seem to bother them. Even in June, water temperatures barely reach 2 °C (36 °F). Yet, this doesn't stop bears from standing in the water for hours on end.

 

 

 

From our observation platform, we can observe all of this extensively. We are particularly fascinated by the behaviour of the female and her two cubs. The mother seems to have two priorities – on one hand, keeping an eye on the surroundings for any danger to herself and her cubs, and on the other hand, regularly catching salmon. She becomes especially vigilant when a male bear appears, as her cubs could be at risk. They are unaware of any danger and playfully wrestle with each other in what seems like playful fights. Or they look around curiously.

 

Mother with two six-month-olds

 

 

 

 

Catching salmon is something this experienced female doesn't need to be taught. Time and time again, it's evident how skilled she is at it. While other bears often let a salmon slip away, she has a success rate of almost 100%. Once she sets her sights on a salmon, it's hopeless for the fish. She leaps after the frightened fish in the shallow water with big bounds. Although leaping might not be the right word, as we're still talking about a colossus weighing 150 to 200 kg. Each leap is accompanied by a lot of noise and splashing water, but she still manages to move faster than the fish. Eventually, she has her prey in her jaws. With the salmon between her forepaws, she starts nibbling on it, starting with the tail. In between bites, she mostly keeps the salmon submerged so no other bear can see the delicious treat she has.

 

Catching salmon is something this experienced female doesn't need to be taught

 

For the mother, this is at least her fifth catch in an hour and a half

Several black-headed gulls and a Kamchatka gull patiently wait nearby

However, the mother doesn't easily deceive her cubs. They quickly realize what's going on and happily hop over to their mother. Unfortunately, begging is not enough; the mother remains unperturbed and continues nibbling away. Yet, one of the cubs manages to grab a piece. It turns out to be the head of the salmon, the least nutritious part. Nonetheless, it eagerly runs off with the head in its jaws, promptly chased by its sibling.

 

Cubs fighting over the head of the salmon

 

 

The seagulls also know what's going on. One by one, they settle around the female on the water and patiently wait, firmly convinced that there will be some tasty leftovers soon. Here, too, the law of the jungle applies. The smaller black-headed gulls, with their cute, chocolate-brown caps, lose out to the much larger Kamchatka gulls. You can recognize them by the orange-red spot on their yellow beak, an attribute that is often seen in gulls. For young chicks, that spot is vital because it's where they need to peck with their beaks when they need food. Their parents then regurgitate the food they have gathered for their young.

With a wingspan of 2.80 meters, the Steller's sea eagle is one of the largest sea eagles in the world

Steller's sea eagle

Steller's sea eagle with prey, Kamchatka gull

Black-headed gulls

In the distance, we can just make out a Steller's sea eagle. Motionless, it perches on a high branch overlooking the lake. Suddenly, it dives into a glide towards the water surface, strikes with its mighty talons, and gains altitude again with a struggling fish clutched between its claws. With a wingspan of 2.80 meters, the Steller's sea eagle is one of the largest sea eagles in the world. You'll only find it along the coasts of East Asia, from Siberia to the northern regions of Japan.

 

The Kambalny volcano rises above the Khakytsyn River

Searching for salmon

 

Regularly, a bear stands upright in the water. This allows it to better see where the salmon are hiding. Our female also looks upwards. She climbs onto a tree stump and manages to maintain her balance remarkably well. One of her cubs tries to imitate her, but for now, it doesn't go so well.

 

The cub still has to learn

 

On the opposite bank, two juvenile bears have appeared, likely siblings. They comfortably settle on the beach but promptly get to their feet as soon as an adult male appears.

 

Juvenile bears from the same litter

Once again, the female bounds after a salmon. As always, the fish stands no chance. For the mother, this is at least her fifth catch in an hour and a half. She finds a quiet spot, clutches the unfortunate fish between her forepaws, and slowly devours it, starting with the tail. It's quite a struggle for the fish because even after the first bite, it continues to thrash about vigorously. It's only after the second bite, when the spine cracks, that all life fades from the dying fish.

 

‘Domestic fox’

It's half past five when we return to the lodge. There, we are greeted by a fox. The creature is not shy; evidently, it's accustomed to being around people. Kosha calls it our domestic fox.

 

Grassy Point Lodge, Diky Greben

After dinner, a certain Sasha appears in the lodge. We read CCCP in large letters on his T-shirt, which seems to indicate a certain nostalgia for the former Soviet Union. Presumably, he was in his late twenties when that empire collapsed. Tonight, this bard wants to entertain us with an idiosyncratic performance in which nostalgia is never far away. According to Sasha, what mainly characterizes Russia are matryoshka dolls, balalaikas, and brown bears. He accompanies his discourse with an unusual arsenal of instruments – a hand drum, a guitar, clacking spoons, and even a mouth harp.

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Saturday 27 July | Khakytsyn – Ozernaya

Serdtse Alaid (left), Ilyinsky

Six o'clock. From the balcony, we enjoy the impressive surroundings. The deep blue silhouette of the Ilyinsky, with bright white patches of snow in the erosion gullies, dominates the dawn. On the mirror-smooth water surface, an almost perfect replica of the volcano cone has appeared. Behind the volcano, the sun is making desperate attempts to break through the thick clouds. Apparently, we've exchanged the fine weather from yesterday for a dense cloud cover overnight.

 

Kurile Lake at dawn

From across the water, the chirping sound of Kamchatka gulls incessantly reaches us and blends with other background noises – the distant call of a cuckoo, the rustling water of the rapids in the Khakytsyn River. Mists hover above a small lagoon. A bear strolls peacefully along the pebble beach towards the river mouth. There, several other bears are already active.

 

Lagoon

Salmon constantly leap out of the water. With their powerful tail fins, they propel themselves quite high above the calm surface of the lake. For a long time, why they do this was a mystery. Some speculate that jumping is ingrained in their genes because salmon that cannot jump will never be able to reach their spawning grounds. Recent scientific research from 2018 seems to point in a different direction. With their aerial acrobatics, salmon try to rid themselves of parasitic copepods that attach to their skin with hooks.

For a long time, why salmon constantly leap out of the water was a mystery

In the lodge, Nadya has breakfast ready – warm pastries with sour cream, fried eggs. Shortly after, Kosha, Ivan, and Lana are at the door. They have a walk planned for us through the tundra area between the Khakytsyn and the Etamink rivers. Along the way, we will need to cross several small tributaries. Our brand-new waders will certainly come in handy today. And Kosha's instructions still apply, of course – stay with the group, don't wander off, and don't leave gaps in the line.

 

Ranger Kosha

Our ‘domestic fox’

Around half past nine, our group sets out – we, tour guide Christina, the three rangers, and the domestic fox. The trail winds through the small forest on the left bank of the Khakytsyn. We regularly come across bear tracks in the mud. Quite logical, as bears also conveniently follow this trail. Kosha remains permanently alert at the front.

 

Kambalny volcano, Khakytsyn river

Pholiota adiposa

Bear paw prints

 

The first river turns out to be a breeze to cross, almost like a warm-up for the real challenge later on, as the water only reaches just above our ankles. Thus, we find ourselves in one of those fascinating vegetation zones for which Kamchatka is known. The plants extend well over a meter above our heads, yet they are not trees or shrubs because they lack woody growth. The most famous of these herbaceous plants is the giant hogweed, which thrives abundantly here. The fact that these plants grow so extremely large is thanks to the volcanic soil. Phosphorus, in particular, contributes to this spectacular growth.

The most famous of these herbaceous plants is the giant hogweed

Kruidachtige planten zoals cannabis…

…en reuzenberenklauw

In this dense vegetation, you might unexpectedly encounter a bear

Herbaceous plants such as cannabis... and giant hogweed. We need to be cautious because the sap of these plants is toxic. If you touch a damaged plant, you may experience swelling and blistering on the skin when exposed to sunlight. What's more, in this dense vegetation, you might unexpectedly encounter a bear. Such surprises are not welcome, neither by us nor by the bears.

Shortly after, we reach open tundra terrain. The vegetation here is at most knee-high. In the distance, we just spot two bears. They are mating, comments Kosha, although from this distance, we can't discern much.

Closer by, Kosha points out some pits in the ground. In diameter, they seem to vary from a few meters to around ten meters, but due to the dense foliage, we can barely distinguish them. These are remnants of semi-submerged dwellings of the Itelmens, the oldest indigenous population of Kamchatka.

 

Overgrown location of pit houses of the Itelmens

When the Cossacks penetrated into the southern reaches of Kamchatka, it marked the beginning of the end for the Itelmens

In fact, these pit houses served as their winter dwellings. They covered the pit with beams over which a layer of earth was laid, and the walls of the pit were covered with a layer of straw to prevent moisture. At the very top of the roof, there was an opening through which they accessed their pit house via a ladder. They usually began using these winter dwellings from November, lasting until spring when the ground began to thaw. By then, the floor of the pit houses was often submerged in water. So, they had to retreat to summer houses on stilts. Essentially, these were little more than a tipi on a platform raised about two meters above the ground. This allowed them to keep their supplies dry and also kept them out of reach of bears.

 

Diky Greben (‘Wild Ridge’)

When the Russian Cossacks penetrated into the south of Kamchatka from 1697 onwards, it marked the beginning of the end for the Itelmens. Bloody conflicts with the Cossacks, executions, deportations, as well as infectious diseases, and alcohol traded for furs proved fatal for many. Today, there are only about two thousand Itelmens left. A multiple of that number has assimilated with the Russian population.

 

 

They are getting deeper now, the rivers we have to cross. Our domestic fox decides to call it quits and heads off. Eventually, we reach the shore of the lake east of the lodge. Once again, we face a deep river. So deep that Kosha cautiously scouts it out. Even though he knows the terrain like the back of his hand, in this wet environment, water levels are hard to predict. A little more rain or a bit more sunshine melting the snow in the mountains can make a big difference. But we are lucky; our tall rubber boots are just enough to keep us from getting wet. Otherwise, we would have to return via the same route.

 

Ilyinsky, Grassy Point Lodge

We follow the beach westward, with the lodge visible in the distance to our left, and the majestic Ilyinsky in the background, until suddenly a bear appears before us. Kosha urges us to remain silent. Motionless, we watch as the bear leisurely walks in our direction, makes a slight detour inland to avoid us, returns to the beach, and continues on its way without a second glance.

 

Further along, there's suddenly another bear in the undergrowth. We hadn't even seen it

Further along, there's suddenly another bear in the undergrowth. We hadn't even seen it. In a reflex motion, Ivan immediately puts his hand on his rifle, as this bear is quite close. False alarm, as it turns out, because this bear also completely ignores us. Around twelve o'clock, we reach the lodge unharmed.

 

 

Later on, a boat trip is on the schedule. While waiting for that, we, accompanied by Kosha, Ivan, and Lana, go once again to the observation platform at the mouth of the Khakytsyn. There, it's business as usual, albeit with a group of tourists dropped off on the sandbank across, equipped with huge cameras.

 

Kamchatka gull

Black-headed gull

Two yearlings

 

But the bears seem to pay little or no attention to that colourful group. A solitary bear is lounging on the beach, dozing away. The Steller’s sea eagle remains undisturbed in its usual spot. The mother bear is still there with her two cubs. When it comes to chasing salmon, she is tireless and unbeatable.

 

When it comes to chasing salmon, the female is tireless and unbeatable

 

Except for that one time, when a big male disrupts things. While she is chasing a salmon, he comes running with much noise. The mother bear knows her place in the pecking order; she holds back while he snatches the prey right in front of her.

 

The mother bear knows her place in the pecking order and gives way to the approaching male

Kamchatka gulls and black-headed gulls wait patiently

For the Kamchatka gulls and the black-headed gulls, this makes no difference. They settle on the water with the firm expectation that crumbs will fall from the table.

 

For salmon, Ozernaya is the gateway to the lake

Half past three. With two boats, we sail to the northwest corner of the lake. This is where the Ozernaya River originates, the only river that drains the Kurile Lake to the sea. In other words, for salmon, this is the gateway to the lake. No salmon will reach the lake unless it digs its way upstream through this river for 48 km. It can't be called hard labour, as the river's drop is only 81 m. Along the way, salmon don't have to fear spectacular waterfalls or rapids.

 

With total disregard for death, the salmon continue their hallucinatory journey through rivers where brown bears eagerly await them

 

But the lake is not where these sockeye salmon want to go. Somehow, they know precisely where they were born – in the headwaters of one of the four rivers that flow into this lake. With total disregard for death, they continue their astonishing journey through rivers like the Khakytsyn, where brown bears await them eagerly. We know the success rate of those bears by now. We've seen many a sockeye salmon meet its end, thrashing, between the claws of a bear. Yet, the majority of the salmon still manage to reach their spawning grounds. It's called the law of large numbers.

The female will protect the nest against potential dangers until her last breath, that is, until she herself perishes

Diky Greben

Sockeye salmon prefer to spawn in the clear, shallow waters of a river where the warm rays of the sun penetrate to the bottom, and where the bottom is covered with pebbles. Once the females have found a spot they like, they begin to create a depression in the gravel. It doesn't take long before a male notices her activity and starts courting her. If the male manages to convince her of his qualities, the female begins to release her eggs. About four thousand fertile eggs end up in the depression. Without hesitation, the male then releases his sperm over the eggs, after which the female hastily covers the depression. Leaving the nest will not cross her mind. She will protect it against potential dangers until her last breath, meaning until she herself perishes. Because that's the life cycle of the salmon – after spawning, death is inevitable.

Throughout this process, the salmon must rely on the energy they gained in the salty sea

Parental care, that's not something males concern themselves with. After fertilization, they immediately set out to find another female they can impress with their charms. As far as their energy allows. Because once they reach freshwater during migration, salmon no longer feed. Yet it still takes weeks, sometimes months before they reach their spawning grounds. All this time, they have to rely on the energy they gained in the salty sea. When they finally reach the spawning grounds, they've expended a lot of energy on the migration. So it's crucial to carefully manage the remaining energy if you want to have as much offspring as possible. Often, it's a choice – do you engage in a fight with a competitor for a particular female, or do you try to avoid fights so that you can last longer on the spawning grounds and have more chances to fertilize eggs?

Then something happens to their bodies, as if they're going through puberty

Six to nine weeks after fertilization, the eggs hatch. But you won't see anything, because the brood keeps quiet. For months, they hide among the pebbles and feed on the yolk sac they received from their mother. Only when they've strengthened a bit, they emerge from among the pebbles and drift down to the open water of the lake. Freshwater becomes their habitat for one to two years.

Then something happens to their bodies, as if they're going through puberty. Their bodies prepare to survive in saltwater. Once that process is complete, they're unstoppable. They gather in schools at Ozernaya and embark on the migration together, towards the Pacific Ocean.

Their entire adult life unfolds there, for two to three years. Until at some point, the urge to reproduce takes over. Their silver-grey bodies turn bright red, their heads pale green. Via Ozernaya, they return to their birthplace to spawn and die, just like their parents. A new generation of sockeye salmon begins its life cycle.

During an average peak season, as many as 25,000 salmon swim into the lake every day

Ozernaya – Salmon counting station

Ozernaya – Ranger station

Where the Ozernaya River originates from Kurile Lake, we go ashore for a moment. Rangers have established a research station there to map out data on the salmon migration. With a structure spanning the river, they force the salmon on their way to the spawning grounds to detour through one of the traps. There, they are counted.

This way, we know that an average of 1.7 million salmon find their way to Kurile Lake annually. There was even a peak of 6 million salmon registered once. During an average peak season, as many as 25,000 salmon swim into the lake every day. No matter how hard the bears try, they will never catch more than a small fraction of them. So, the overall balance is positive for the salmon population. But an unfortunate salmon who must watch helplessly as its tail is bitten off by a bear may have a different opinion on that.

 

Serdtse Alaida – Hearth of Alaid

Meanwhile, it has started to rain softly. Yesterday's beautiful weather made us forget that precipitation is more of the rule than the exception here. Today, a persistent thick cloud cover blocks the sun. In our open boats, the raindrops feel icy cold. But for now, it doesn't bother us; we are dressed for it.

 

Two-thirds of the lava plug is hidden beneath the water surface

Serdtse Alaida

The Heart of Alaid, the lava plug of the exploded volcano in the middle of the caldera, is our next destination. It turns out to be a fairly steep peak, reportedly three hundred meters high. Two-thirds of it are hidden beneath the water's surface. Despite its rocky appearance, the island is predominantly green. Evidently, a type of grass manages to thrive there.

 

On the rocks, it's teeming with adult birds, but we can hardly spot any chicks. That's strange, very strange

As often happens with islands, a bird colony has established itself. In this case, it's Kamchatka gulls that have claimed the island, one of the largest gull species worldwide. Their cries greet us from afar. Here, the gulls feel safe to nest and breed because the island is inaccessible to foxes. On the rocks, it's teeming with adult birds, but we can hardly spot any chicks. That's strange, very strange. Once winter arrives, these gulls will embark on their annual journey to Taiwan, more than 4,500 km south, to winter there.

 

Kamchatka gulls

Kamchatka gull with chick

 

We make a detour to the mouth of the Khakytsyn. The group of tourists is still on the sandbank, but the rain puts a damper on the mood. Protecting themselves and their precious equipment from the rain seems to be their main concern now. The bears pay no attention to the heavenly dampness. They strut through the mud, determinedly hopping after skittish salmon. The Steller's sea eagle also does its usual thing – perching on a branch overlooking the water.

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Sunday 28 July | Khakytsyn

The dark clouds show no sign of relenting; it remains rainy and cold. But that won't discourage us. Today, we won't sit quietly at the mouth of the Khakytsyn watching which bears appear on the scene. Today, we set out ourselves to seek out those brown giants upstream along the river. It will be a day trip, and cook Nadya and guide Christina are already busy preparing our picnic lunches.

 

On the bank of the Khakytsyn

About ten thousand bears would feel at home in Kamchatka, as per an extensive study by WWF in 1996. If you only consider the South Kamchatka Nature Park around Kurile Lake, you'll still find 950 bears there, as indicated by counts from aerial photographs. Nowhere else in the world will you find a greater population density.

Kamchatka bears are not inclined towards conflict

It's virtually certain that we'll encounter bears shortly. However, these encounters are usually not dangerous. Kamchatka bears are not inclined towards conflict. We observed this yesterday. Whenever a bear appeared to cross our path, it either fled or completely ignored us. We indirectly owe this to the salmon. The bears know they don't need to fight for food. Food is abundantly available in the vicinity of this lake, and it even swims to them spontaneously. There's no rivalry, no stress. In short, brown bears are living the life of Riley in Kamchatka.

 

Khakytsyn

However, caution is still warranted. If you approach them too closely, even a Kamchatka bear will become nervous. In the dense undergrowth that thrives here, unpleasant surprises can never be entirely ruled out. We experienced this yesterday as well. It becomes truly dangerous when you get near a mother bear with cubs. If she perceives her cubs to be threatened, trouble ensues.

 

 

Ranger Kosha doesn't hesitate to remind us of the agreements once again. Staying close together is the basic rule, under no circumstances should a bear be given the chance to walk between us. If we want to take photos, we need to announce it beforehand so the group as a whole can wait.

 

In short, brown bears are living the life of Riley in Kamchatka

 

At half past ten, our little column sets off, as usual with Kosha leading the way, Lana bringing up the rear, and Ivan in the middle. Two newcomers join us, Daria and Nikolai. They’re trainees, they've come all the way from Moscow to volunteer here for a month as part of their ranger training. Even the domestic fox briefly joins us. A bear strolls ahead of us on the beach. It's as if he wants to show us the way to his comrades.

Then we follow the Chakytsin upstream along the left bank. The river carries milky chocolate-coloured meltwater from the mountains. Waders are a necessity here because we cross one tributary after another, some deep, some less deep. Sometimes, it seems like an inlet is heavily polluted with waste. But it's not. What floats on the water here is lightweight pumice stone, originating from one of the volcanoes.

The relatively comfortable path winds irregularly along the low bank through the forest. On the other side, however, the sandy bank rises meters high above the water. It's clear that the Khakytsyn has been carving its way through the sediment for centuries, gradually shifting westward.

Even cannibalism is not excluded then, although the female will strongly resist it

Female with three-year-old cub

On a tree stump, a mother bear stands together with her cub, scanning the surroundings. The cub is in its third year of life, Kosha informs us. All this time, its mother has ensured its safety and taught it the skills it needs to hunt salmon.

But that cannot last forever. It's about time it stands on its own feet. Because the female is gradually approaching a new pregnancy. There will be adult males willing to assist her with that. But having a young one around, they won't appreciate that. Even cannibalism is not excluded then, although the female will strongly resist it. Moreover, bears are by no means monogamous. Both males and females mate with different partners during a breeding season. Despite the unlimited supply, fierce fights between males over mating opportunities are not uncommon.

 

In this pale brown water, you need more than an ordinary dose of luck to catch a salmon

 

The female continues to scan the water in search of prey. She wanders through the flowing river, stands up on her hind legs, continues to wade through the water. So far, without success. In this pale brown water, you need more than an ordinary dose of luck to catch a salmon. In between, she regularly sizes us up but consistently concludes that we are not worth her attention.

Spending hours in the icy cold water doesn't bother them; in that respect, these brown bears don’t differ from polar bears

 

Bears are abundant now, scattered all along the river bank. About every hundred meters, there's one in the water or standing on the opposite bank. They are excellent swimmers. Spending hours in the icy cold water doesn't bother them; in that respect, they don’t differ from polar bears. A solitary Kamchatka gull flies low over the water.

That densely forested, difficult-to-access terrain is the perfect spot for bears to hibernate

Khakytsyn, Tugumink (on the right)

The opposite side of the river is dominated by hills, and higher up by the steep slopes of the Tugumink. Its peak is not visible, hidden within the clouds. That densely forested, difficult-to-access terrain is the perfect spot for bears to hibernate. They seek out natural shelters such as caves or crevices under rocks. As snow begins to cover the ground in October, they gradually retreat to their winter dens. Pregnant females and mothers with cubs are the first to go into hibernation, while adult males are the last. Conversely, you'll see the males emerging first in late March or early April, while females with newborn cubs may wait until May.

This is why a bear suddenly appears less than ten meters away from us

 

Absorbed as we are in what is happening on and around the river to our left, we hardly notice what's going on to our right. This is why a bear suddenly appears less than ten meters away from us. Ivan is immediately alerted and puts his hand on his rifle, but the bear, just as surprised as we are, avoids any contact and quickly turns back.

 

So many bears tolerating each other's proximity is a sight you rarely see elsewhere, but in Kamchatka, it's quite common

 

Intercepting salmon is easier in the shallow water of a wide bend in the river. Of course, the bears know that too. At least three of them are busy not too far from each other. While we observe the scene, we discover more and more bears. In the end, it turns out there are seven bears active here. So many bears tolerating each other's proximity is a sight you rarely see elsewhere, but in Kamchatka, it's quite common. Once again, this is due to the ample availability of food. Bears don't see each other as food competitors.

 

 

However, this doesn't mean that food is unimportant to them; quite the contrary. When they go into hibernation later, they'll have to rely for six cold months on the food they've consumed during the second half of the summer and autumn. For a bear, it's essential to eat as much as it can without reservation in order to build the largest possible fat reserves.

 

Kamchatka brown bears consider vegetarian food merely as an appetizer to get through the spring

 

Bears are fortunate to be omnivores – berries, pine nuts, grass, leaves, roots, young shoots of trees and shrubs are all on their menu. So, their diet is primarily vegetarian. For some brown bears, that's largely sufficient. But not for the bears around Kurile Lake. They consider vegetarian food merely as an appetizer to get through the spring. As soon as the first sockeye salmon arrive, they eagerly join the protein-rich feast that the rivers offer them. It's no wonder the Kamchatka bear was once called Ursus arctos piscator. You can translate the first two words as Arctic bear, and the third word means fisherman. Nowadays, the scientific name Ursus arctos beringianus is used.

 

Pholiota adiposa

Orange peel fungus

Pumice stone floats on one of the many streams we cross. For a moment, we follow a tributary of the Khakytsyn. Then the path leads us through a forest of stone birches. Even without mist, their gnarled branches seem eerie. Orange peel fungus beside the path briefly catch our attention. Then we reach the bank of the Khakytsyn again.

 

It's somewhat amusing to see a bear sitting upright in the water as if it's enjoying a wrap at a buffet

A mother bear with a two-year-old cub

It's quite amusing to see a bear on the other side sitting upright in the water, leaning on a tree stump, with a sockeye salmon between its front paws, slowly devouring the fish as if it's eating a wrap at a buffet. He likely caught the fish in the shelter behind the tree stump. Salmon occasionally like to rest during their exhausting journey to their spawning grounds. They prefer to do so close to the shore, where a tree stump or some shrubbery provides protection. Unfortunately, experienced bears know how to find them there.

While it's not so common elsewhere, here, a litter of three cubs is quite ordinary

A mother bear with three yearlings

A mother bear with three yearlings cautiously scans the water. They are still very shy. While it's not so common elsewhere, here, a litter of three cubs is quite ordinary. Even litters of four or, very exceptionally, five cubs occur here. This high fertility is undoubtedly due to the abundant protein supply in the rivers.

They were completely helpless at birth – blind, with their ear canals still closed, weighing barely five hundred grams

These cubs were likely born in January or February in the den where their mother hibernated. They were completely helpless at birth – blind, with their ear canals still closed, weighing barely five hundred grams. They stayed in the den with their mother for four months, feeding on her milk and relying on her fat reserves. This paid off, as when they emerged from their winter den in May, they had increased their weight twelve to fifteen times. Gradually, they will have to learn to eat what bears normally eat. However, they will remain dependent on their mother's milk for another two years.

 

 

Then suddenly, a mother bear appears on the path in front of us. She has two cubs with her; one is hiding in the bushes beside the path, while the other has climbed a meter high in a tree. This latter behaviour is reserved only for the very youngest cubs; adult brown bears are too heavy to climb trees.

What is happening, is a game for these cubs, but a matter of life and death for Kosha

What is happening, is a game for these cubs, but a matter of life and death for Kosha. Unintentionally, we have approached them too closely. This is a textbook example of a situation one must avoid at all costs. Tensely, we wait. But the mother bear doesn't seem to be bothered by our presence. Calmly, without any signs of agitation, she retreats with her cubs in tow.

 

 

Meanwhile, it's already two o'clock. Having an undisturbed lunch doesn't seem to be straightforward in this environment. Bears could develop unhealthy interest in the scents coming from our lunch packs. But Kosha is a man with a plan. Hand in hand we wade through the strong current of the Khakytsyn to reach an island in the middle of the river. There are even some tree stumps to sit on. Trainee Daria seems to have taken on the task of counting the bears we have encountered so far. Currently, she has counted 57.

Currently, she has counted 57

Bears are sitting on both banks, but they completely ignore us. Even in the water, there's a female that has just caught a salmon. Apparently, she has enough experience to know that males will try to steal it from her. That's why she climbs quite far up the steep mountainside on the opposite bank before starting to eat.

 

 

Light rain falls as we begin our return journey three quarters of an hour later, but it doesn't last long. Once again, a cub is in a tree. The whereabouts of the mother are not immediately clear. This is not reassuring, and Kosha is hyper-alert. Suddenly, the mother bear crosses the path right in front of us like a flash, a salmon in her mouth, followed closely by a second cub. The other cub quickly descends from the tree and dashes after them.

 

The male bear seizes the salmon, leaving the female bear empty-handed

In the middle of the river, a female bear scans the water for salmon. Her two-year-old cub faithfully follows her at a distance. The female bear is no stranger to this task, effortlessly catching a salmon in the fast-flowing, chocolate-brown water. However, trouble is brewing. On the bank, a male bear has been watching the scene with great interest. As soon as the female bear lifts her catch from the water, the male bear throws himself into the water and confronts her. It's an unequal fight for the female bear. The male bear makes off with the salmon, leaving the female bear without a meal.

 

Kamchatka brown bear (m)

A massive male bear emerges from a tributary on the opposite side. It's likely the largest bear we've ever seen. These males can weigh four to five hundred kilograms, with a body length of up to 2.5 meters and claws that can be up to ten centimetres long. You wouldn't want to encounter them up close. In the wild, these bears can live up to thirty years. In contrast, females typically weigh only 150 to 200 kilograms.

 

For the first time, Kosha, Ivan, and Lana unshoulder their rifles

Female with cubs on the path

We cross a small tributary and enter a forest with dense undergrowth. Once again, a mother bear with two cubs appears on the path. However, for the time being, she shows no signs of backing down. She's not being aggressive at all, but her stance is clear – we feel comfortable here, why should we make way for you? It's not unreasonable, but still a bit annoying, as there's no alternative route. For the first time, Kosha, Ivan, and Lana unshoulder their rifles. But it turns out to be a false alarm. Eventually, the mother bear decides to give up and slides into the water, followed by her two cubs.

 

 

 

 

In the shallow water of the wide bend in the river, there are still six bears, including a mother bear with a cub. But in this tough company, she feels anything but comfortable. Soon enough, she leaves. If one of the males manages to catch a salmon, he can eat it undisturbed on a sandbank without the others bothering him. A female wouldn't get away with that.

 

Two female bears with their offspring

Shortly after six o'clock, we reach the lodge after a hike of about seven and a half hours. From afar, the bard Sasha enthusiastically welcomes us with his noisy hand-drum. In the evening, Nadya has delicious red king crab prepared for us, along with champagne and vodka. Undoubtedly, this has to do with a birthday.

 

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Monday 29 July | Grassy Point Lodge – Mutnovsky

Mists hang low over the Kurile Lake. The surrounding mountains are mostly hidden behind the clouds, and we can't even see the impressive Ilyinsky. From our balcony, we can just make out the mouth of the Khakytsyn in the distance. Dark shadows in the mist suggest that some bears are already foraging in the wter.

No flying weather, Oleg dryly comments. Oleg is from Moscow; he left the bustling capital for a few weeks to enjoy the tranquillity of the impressive nature here, especially the wildlife. In between, he doesn't hesitate to praise the qualities of the many other natural areas in Russia. In particular, the Altai Mountains are his favourite. There's hardly any industry or tourism there, making the area virtually untouched.

But that's not what we're focused on right now. Just after noon, we'll leave this beautiful place behind and settle on the slopes of the Mutnovsky volcano. If the helicopters can't fly today, we'll be stuck here for at least another day. Not that there's nothing to do here; on the contrary, the bears will keep us entertained. But the rest of our schedule could be jeopardized.

 

American mink

Domestic fox

Two minks don't let it get to their hearts. They hop around eagerly in search of food. One emerges from the water, soaking wet, with a caught fish in its mouth. Not a salmon, however, as that's too big for these small predators. The average sockeye is twice the size of a mink. They are beautiful animals, these marten-like creatures with their black fur, blue eyes, and the white spot under their lower lip. Apparently, they nest in a burrow under one of the ranger huts. Technically, they are exotics, as these American minks were introduced in various parts of the Soviet Union in the middle of the last century.

 

Snow covers the slopes of the Tugumink

Convinced that the weather will improve in two to three hours, we start packing our luggage. The sleeping bags are squeezed into bags that suddenly seem too small, and the stubborn rubber boots are folded into manageable dimensions. Nadya has prepared our final breakfast, this time with sunny-side-up eggs.

 

This bear has come here to stay

 

At a quarter past nine, we set out for one last time to the observation platform at the mouth of the Khakytsyn. The short hike is now familiar to us. First, the boardwalk, then the pebble beach. But it's not a walk in the park. A bear has appeared on the beach. Kosha urges us to stop and wait for a moment. Undoubtedly, this bear will want to avoid us and retreat soon. But that's a mistaken assumption. This bear has come here to stay. Rightly so, after all, this is its territory, and we are the intruders.

 

Fogs at the mouth of the Chakytsin

 

To convey its intention, the bear begins to dig a shallow pit in the gravel and settles itself comfortably in it. It deems us unworthy of a glance, completely ignoring our presence. The feeling is mutual. Kosha guides us through the wet tundra in a wide semicircle around the bear. The domestic fox doesn't like it, abandoning us once again.

 

Bear on the catwalk

We settle onto the platform and survey the surroundings. The stage of our theatre is currently occupied by two solitary bears, a mother bear with two yearlings, and in the distance, two Steller's sea eagles. And, not to forget, a dozen photographers with folding chairs and telephoto lenses on the opposite bank. They were dropped off this morning at a quarter to seven. They too will be able to enjoy the antics of the bears in this shallow water. But if you truly want to get acquainted with the Kamchatka bear in its habitat, you must venture into the interior, for example, upstream along the Khakytsyn as we did yesterday. We realize that now more than ever.

 

 

 

For now, there's not much excitement happening here. The mother bear is calmly dozing on a sandbank with her cubs, just like one of the solitary bears. The Steller's sea eagles are sitting almost motionless on their branches, only occasionally turning their heads to the left or right.

 

Steller’s sea eagles

Around ten o'clock, the tourists on the other side are picked up. It's a pity for them because just now the sun starts to break through. Gradually, the patches of fog dissipate, and even the Ilyinsky partially emerges.

 

 

 

As if it were the agreed-upon signal, there's now some activity. The female with her cubs strolls through the shallow water to another sandbank. Coincidentally or not, she quickly catches a salmon there. Immediately, gulls descend beside her on the water in hopes of getting a share. But her cubs remain hungry. They don't even try to get a piece, perhaps because the water here is too deep for them.

 

 

 

On the shore just behind the observation platform, a bear nestles comfortably among the tall grass. This doesn't disturb us as the observation platform is securely fenced with sturdy bars. However, it becomes exciting – not for us, but for the bear – when a second bear appears on the path. That's bound to cause a commotion. The tall grass obstructs our view, so we're not exactly sure what's happening.

 

It seems clear that they are fighting, swatting at each other and even biting each other

 

But the fact that they are fighting, swatting at each other, and even biting each other seems clear. Eventually, there's a loser, and it's not necessarily the bear that leaves the scene first, Kosha says. The loser is the one who can no longer look at the other. Bear number one is the loser, but he remains where he was sitting, while number two triumphantly rubs his back against a tree.

 

 

By around eleven thirty, the sound of a helicopter rotor swells from over the mountains in the east. It bypasses Grassy Point Lodge, its destination lying elsewhere. That's okay; we are reassured because now we know that the helicopters are indeed flying today.

 

The yearlings still need breast feeding

 

Again, the female and her two cubs are lying flat on the sandbank, dozing. But not for long, because the mother lies back on her back. Is she doing this on her own initiative? Or have the cubs prompted her to do so? We missed that, but the fact is that the bear is now starting to breastfeed her two cubs. They are yearlings; they still have that need.

 

Woolly geranium		Pedicularis
		Hawkweed

 

The sun has disappeared behind the dense clouds, and there's no trace of blue sky left. Just after half past eleven, we start our journey back to the lodge. Right at that moment, the female catches another salmon. It must be that she isn't very hungry because one of her cubs manages to grab quite a large piece of it. The other cub eagerly chases after it, but it ends in disappointment. All it gets from its sibling is a solid swipe with its forepaw.

 

Mouth of the Khakytsyn, Tugumink

The pebble beach lies deserted; the bear from this morning has sought other horizons. Salmon swim in large numbers close to the shore, heading towards the Khakytsyn. There, they will spawn and die, or just die, depending on whether they manage to escape the dozens of bears waiting for them.

 

 

After lunch, we wait and listen to see if we hear a helicopter approaching somewhere in the distance. In principle, we're supposed to be picked up between twelve and two. Just before one o'clock, it happens. Unmistakably, the rotor sound of a helicopter approaches from the east, but alas, it quickly disappears behind the mountains. The same scenario occurs shortly after one o'clock.

 

MI-8 lands at Grassy Point Lodge helipad

At a quarter to three, it's time. The helicopter approaching from the east is meant for us. Five minutes later, an MI-8 lands with about fifteen Austrians on board. They unload their luggage, and we load ours. The helicopter doesn't have seats along the sides but rather six rows of two seats each with an aisle in the middle. The luggage is stacked in the back, partly on the seats. We say goodbye to Sasha, Oleg, and Lana – Kosha and Ivan are not with us. Trainees Daria and Nikolai are joining us, and thankfully, the cook Nadya as well.

 

 

Just before half past three, we take off from the helipad for a flight of about forty minutes to the north.

 

Grassy Point Lodge, mouth of the Khakytsyn (middle right)

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Jaak Palmans
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