I finally got to see wild bears on a trip last month to New Brunswick, Canada. Acadian Richard Goguen built a bear-viewing tower and an increasingly succesful business on his family land, Little, Big Bear Safari.
Back in 2000 Richard got tired of guiding hunters to kill animals they weren’t going to eat. (He’s not anti-hunting; he still hunts for food.) He had more fun taking people out to take pictures of the bears, says his multi-lingual wife, Vivianne.
Richard first built a tower for six people in 1998, but he’s had to expand. His current tower (his third) fits about 50 people, has two covered staircases, a wood stove and lots of open windows to see bears.
The experience starts back at the Goguen house in Acadieville, which is about 150 miles from Maine. The Goguens pass around pictures, tell stories and all the bear tourists meet up. The night I went there was a German couple, another European couple, and a few locals who were friends of Richard. They’re forest rangers and sometimes fill in for Richard, who also works as a school bus driver. One brought his father, a bear hunter.
If this were in America, I’m sure there would’ve been tons of t-shirts, shot glasses and bear junk available. (And I probably would’ve bought some.) They just have a few key chains and some paintings. We all signed legal waivers. In the U.S. I’m sure they would’ve been more than the one page. Actually, I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t happen at all–both because of liability and prohibitions against feeding bears unless you’re hunting them.
Which is what makes this a great place for Americans to visit. It’s only 150 miles from Maine, near Kouchibouguac National Park on the coast of the Northumberland Straight.
Vivianne drives us out to the bear tower in a little white bus. In the back are bushels of apples, which Richard dispenses with piles of meat and nuts. Then, she’ll drive back to the house. The bears would climb on if they left the van there, Richard explains. (But if anyone gets spooked, they’ll come pick them up.)
Along the way Richard explains that he has known three generations of this group of bears. One bear–now the grandmother–used to follow him around. Then her daughter did. And now the daughter has shown her two youngsters to do the same. But, he says, he doesn’t know all the bears. Some bears are regulars and some come and go. Last night there were 13–putting to rest my fears that there wouldn’t be any.
When we pull up to the bear tower, none are in sight. But by the time Richard delivers the food, four come out of nowhere. We hustle up the wood stairs (covered by metal gates) and onto the viewing platform. Richard leaves the food on different sides so there’s plenty of room to see the bears from the windows on two sides of the tower. Richard tells us to keep our voices low, but that flashes don’t bother the bears. The sound of metal–like change jingling–does though, he says.
Within minutes all of the bear viewers are giddy and awestruck. We get to see the bears interacting. Some are family. Two juveniles eat, but cautiously. One gets chased up a tree by an adult. Later one adult chases another down the dirt road. One big bear hogs the meat. Others just lounge by the apples, swooping up the fruit with their paws. Still others wander between feeding stations, like shoppers always worried someone else is getting something better.
Richard says that since I’m a journalist, he’ll let me go down to the open viewing platform below the main one. Here’s it’s just an outdoor wood staircase, like a Chicago fire escape. I’m about 15 feet up and can see and hear the bears walk under the platform. Some look up at me. When I see the young bear climb a tree, I am reminded that they could climb up to where I am in seconds. I’m tempted to go back inside. But I’m too fascinated to leave.
Blue jays and red squirrels come by. They seem to know the feeding schedule, too. The bears half-heartedly swat them away.
Towards the end of our 90 minute visit, Richard goes out and feeds some of the bears by hand. Then I feel ridiculous for being afraid that these bears, who have a feast in front of them, after all, would contemplate eating me. Richard insists that he knows the bears he’s feeding. His wife says that he never approaches a bear, he waits for the bear to come to him. He jokes that neighbors tell him that some day he will end up in a bear’s tummy.
Still, the whole hand feeding thing makes me nervous. As I film it, I feel like I’m watching the beginning of a horrible youtube clip. I think about Timothy Treadwell, who also thought he had a special relationship with bears and who was killed by an aggressive bear he didn’t know. (But those were the more aggressive grizzlies.) Also, it makes the bears seem less wild.
On the drive back I talk with one of the forest rangers. He’s happy to see a New Yorker like me–or anyone from far away–coming to enjoy the New Brunswick bears. And he should be proud of it. What the Goguens have built is a really smart animal tourism attraction, unique in the world, one that takes provides a regular income to locals off wildlife without killing the bears. There are bear-viewing places out west, but they rely on grizzlies eating salmon. Here they’ve created their own food source (which wouldn’t work in a populated area and I’m sure would raise objections to people worried about bears becoming habituated to humans and human food). Richard hopes to I’d recommend the experience to anyone and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it copied.
Where to Go See Bear
Where to See Wildlife in Canada
Great Article!! I am originally from this area and think that what they have done is a wonderful way to bring ppl closer to nature and also it’s great that it can draw tourists to our small region to enjoy what New Brunswick has to offer.