the arctic freeze

Iam Hurtling Half way across the world. and taking four flights. yes, four: Delhi-Brussels-TorontoWinnipeg-Churchill… so it better be something terribly exciting. right? I guess the reaction I get from anyone who hears I am heading to the heart of polar bear country, in sub-arctic Canada, keeps me going through the long-haul transit: “Wow! Polar Bears?! are you for real? are they for real!” Well, you get the drift…

October and november are the months to see polar bears as they prepare to move from their summer habitat on the tundra back to seal-hunting territory in the pack ice that forms every winter over Hudson Bay in Manitoba, Canada. The bears gather along the shore, waiting for the ice to freeze. and, you get to experience that, live, from Churchill, a zombie-fied habitation of 700-odd people that acts as the gateway to the frozen tidal flats of the bay and the polar bears!

I am feeling a bit like Willy Wonka headed to the Chocolate factory as I tumble out of the trans-atlantic 24-hour run to board an air Canada domestic to Winnipeg, from where our expedition organisers, frontiers north adventures, take over. We check into the four Point sheraton at Winnipeg airport. a quick briefing by frontiers north follows. We are introduced to our group, our guide and given packets that contain the itinerary, name tags and baggage tags. The instructions are precise and, we realise soon enough, it is best to listen and follow as the next few days will be exciting and challenging in equal parts.

an hour-long charter flight sweeps us away to Churchill the next morning. It’s a clear day and the view is stunning as the plane skims over the patchwork landscapes of the Hudson Bay lowlands to touchdown. Called the polar bear capital of the world, Churchill in spring-summer is a beluga whale watching hotspot and a birder’s paradise. Winter makes Churchill one of the best places to experience the aurora borealis or northern lights. right now, it is sparse and freezing. Polar bears are everywhere—on murals, signs, souvenirs, and sculptures—and the live versions occasionally wander in to town as well. We sight our very first one even as the bus from the airport winds its way towards the township. Conservation staff is already on alert, firing flashes to change the bear’s path to ensure it doesn’t go downtown. excitement levels are high and we are already all charged up.

Once the heart of the north american fur trade, we get a fascinating insight into the history, culture and wildlife of the area with a visit to the eskimo Museum and Parks Canada. We then head out to the Prince of Wales fort. europeans first arrived in the area in 1619 as a Danish expedition led by Jens Munk. The Hudson Bay Company was established in 1670 as one of the oldest commercial corporation in the world. In 1731 they commissioned the building of a massive stone fortress situated at the mouth of the Churchill river to capitalise on trading of fur produced by the york factory. ultimately destroyed by the french in 1782, the fort was declared a national Historic site with a rehabilitation project initiated by Parks Canada. Icy winds threaten to ensure we are fossilised at the fort. Dinner reservations are at Gypsy’s Bakery and we rush into the warm comfort of the tavern.

Here I have my first encounter with the ubiquitous ‘perogy’—cheese and potato dumplings served fried with onions and bacon in a wild mushroom cream sauce. Traditionally a ukrainian pheasant staple, it travelled to Manitoba with the large numbers of russians who immigrated to Canada’s Prairies, and today stands fully adopted as a local dish. I wash these downs with glassfuls of Caesar, Canada’s version of the Bloody Mary, it comes spiked with vodka, clamato (tomato juice and clam broth), hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce, served in celery salt- rimmed glass garnished with celery stalk. as I gulp down glassfuls, my frozen innards start to melt. I am all fuzzy and cosy in the head. so much so, that I barely realise having fallen off the map. no connectivity. Dead cellphones! for the next four days.

Before heading off to the tundra wastelands the next morning for the real polar bear action, we are taken for an aboriginal dog sledding experience with Wapusk adventurers. even as I write this piece, I look at the“Ididamile” certificate tacked up on my board and it brings a smile as I think of Dave Daley, who calls himself ‘The Big Dog’—a smart aleck, tale telling, joke cracking owner of the small community of racing huskies who take you for a snowy run around a trappers cabin with resident gray jays flittering about!

Then it’s time to be transported to a massive, roomy bus mounted on huge all terrain tires which takes us, after a couple of hours of sludgy, rough ride, to the Tundra Buggy lodge, a mobile, caravan-like accommodation parked at Polar Bear Point. This is our three-night confinement. four modules that, when linked end to end, stretch almost 100 metres long consisting of two sleeper cars (housing 18 and 20 guests) the lounge, dining and utility cars. There are bunk beds and the luggage goes under the bunks. Well-lit and spacious, they have curtains that can be drawn for privacy (think 2-tier aC in Indian railways but much nicer) two bathrooms cubicles with toilets and one stand alone toilet to be shared in each sleeper car. and, yes, it is centrally heated. While on the lodge during the evening, guests are encouraged to utilise open decks between cars to experience the polar bears and northern lights.

We wake up at 6 a.m. and make a beeline for the shower and toilets. (It’s only by the second day that the 20-odd occupants of our sleeper car find a rhythm to this—some shower in the morning, the others at night and some, well, not at all. It’s all forgiven, as the temperature dips below -10oC, with the wind chill factor reducing it by another couple of degrees!) By 8 a.m. we are all packed into the massive buggy that undocks from the lodge and takes off into the frozen surroundings, accompanied by Brian, our driver and Trevor, our guide—young and passionate wildlife enthusiasts who come from Jasper each year during season to not just work, but live a dream.

We get lucky. It is snowing and freezing cold. and that brings the big guys out. each sighting of these spectacular animals over the next three days is as thrilling as the first one. Does it get any better than male polar bears, perhaps more than 600 kg, sparring and standing 3.05 metres (10 feet) tall right in front of you? These white bears move with surprising speed and agility. With an acute sense of smell, they are also skilled hunters that can pick up a scent from over 30 km away, and can detect the presence of seals under three feet of snow and ice. Polar bears have no natural enemies and consequently no fear. a mother and cub saunter right up till the buggy. a hushed silence descends. The buggies are heated, however, when we see bears, windows go down and the interior quickly cools. It’s freezing as we wait with baited breath. I can’t feel my fingers. But I hardly give a damn, as the curious mother suddenly leaps up on its hind legs and stares me in the eye.

The staff at Tundra Buggy lodge is young, tireless and loveable. I quickly learn to accept any lapses and inconveniences as I realize they deliver in extreme conditions with a smile and passion. The makeshift polythene pee bag in the buggy that takes you bear spotting, is soon forgiven. The ‘make your own sandwich’lunches the girls pack, seems to get an edge when I discover they have added freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. and the hot meals at night get a Michelin star from me when I find Brian, the driver, quickly getting into an apron to lend a hand in the kitchen having barely gotten back from a long day driving around in the freezing cold…I am on the fringes of the arctic! It is snowing outside and there is a polar bear eyeballing me through the window of my bunk bed. Does anything else even matter?