LANDSAT Image of Kambalny Lake and Volcano
(Courtesy of www.volcano.und.nodak)
The Packing Crew:
Grisha and his friend, Tatiana and her Mother and Father, and Rob Walters
Jennya Waves
Goodbye
Return To Kambalnoe Base Camp
Moving The Load
from the Landing Site
Maureen Happy to See Biscuit
(Click on any Image to see a higher resolution version)
We Return to Kambalnoe Lake for the Summer
Tired, exhausted and simply no energy left, I boarded the Alaska Airlines airplane for an overnight stop in Anchorage en route to Kamchatka. The anxiety and work required to leave the home, dogs, horses and our business for 3 months gets tougher every year.
I was not sure what to expect from Charlie regarding our summer's plans. Would there be orphan cubs? Would we move our camp to Goliginsky Lake to accommodate another cub re-introduction program? I did not really want to leave Kambalnoe Camp with Biscuit and Chico living there. Although, Kronotsky Preserve had granted us permission to return to Kambalnoe; they once again had backed out of allowing us to continue with new cubs. Was I to be in for another headache of meetings with the Preserve? Charlie had been unusually diplomatic in his E-mail letters so with a certain degree of anxiety I stepped out of the Reeve Aleutian plane in Petropavlovsk on June 24.
Standing in line at customs, a really nice young man, Rob Walters, introduced himself and told me that he had no idea of even where to stay in Petropavlovsk. He had arrived to hopefully teach English . His Russian sounded impressive. He was from Oregon and had never been to Kamchatka before. Russian friendliness and open hospitality is one of the pulls that bring me back to this country. I tried to emulate some too. Rob's background as a pilot clinched it. He met up with Charlie and Tatiana's husband, Velodia, before I was out the gate and Velodia invited him to join us for the drive from the airport to town. After assisting to carry my 7 bags up 3 stories to Jennya's apartment, he was invited by her family to stay there too.
This trip I had my travelling art exhibition that had been to Paris (Camac Gallery), last stop, along with all my gear for a summer in South Kamchatka. As usual, many requests for small gifts came endlessly over the E-mail via Charlie. I was loaded down to the point that I could barely navigate through the airports. Airline check-in personnel were impressed that I was carrying my art exhibition to Moscow and were very kind with overweight charges. To my relief, customs at Petropavlovsk airport knew me from previous visits and were very gracious. My 32 pieces of art are now waiting in Petropavlovsk for me to return from Kambalnoe Lake in early September to fly with them to Moscow for the exhibition at the Moscow Contemporary Art Center from September 14 to 30th.
I was so happy to be back in Kamchatka. Charlie and I decided that, as there did not seem to be any orphan cubs this season, we would return to Kambalnoe Lake for the summer season. I was relieved to hear we would not move to a new location this year. I had been secretly hoping that we would be with Biscuit and Chico as they grew to adulthood. Charlie had 3 months worth of food purchased and papers ready at Kronotsky State Preserve to be signed for our permits. With the assistance of Tatiana Gordienko, who is developing a PHD proposal on our co-existence study, we were ready to leave on Wednesday, June 29th. It would be a record!
Three days after my arrival - off to the bears! I was so excited to go back to our cubs. Tatiana's father, her mother, herself; Rob, Jennya's son Grisha, his friend and I all loaded our gear into an old army truck. The day was sunny and calm. Charlie, flying his ultralite, disappeared over the volcanoes that stretch south down the peninsula. What a day! What could go wrong? We would soon see.
When the helicopter arrived at Kambalnoe Lake, they could not land on the soft, wet tundra and hovered, as our huge pile of gear was off-loaded. Our helpers could not get out to help us. The helicopter lifted and headed north. Charlie and I swore as we looked at our huge pile of stuff. I was reminiscent of the image from Mowatt's book where the researcher is left out on the ice with a huge pile as the plane leaves. We had counted on having the crew help us carry it all to our cabin. We transported boxes for 6 hours without stopping and were back at it the next day. On Friday, I slept for 14 hours nonstop.
The weather changed for the worse the day after we arrived and it has been blowing rain and fog for 5 days now. Our decision to leave immediately on Wednesday, was the right one. We have learned something about the fickle weather of Kamchatka in the past 5 years of our work here.
Within those first few hours of arrival, I was impressed by my return to a wilderness as wild and unspoiled by man as this one. I vowed once more to do everything I could to save it. Sensations bombarded my psyche like the absence of the noise of mankind. No sound of an overhead jet much less a telephone ringing - only the wind and the cries of the gulls. Safety: no chance of evacuation if an accident occurred with weather like we saw setting in. I cut my finger and became immediately aware that I must be more careful. Travelling amongst the bears: yes, my senses had dulled over the winter. But, in a day, I was listening for sounds out of place. I started glancing over my shoulder when the wind was in my face to detect anything behind me and generally starting to become alert in ways the cubs had taught me. I accepted once again that I was as vulnerable as any animal here and as I entered another season.
On the more uncomfortable side, I did not welcome holding my bladder to avoid going out to the toilet in the wind and rain. Nor did I anticipate with any joy the thought of bathing in 4 cups of water. We carry every pail-full from the lake! Curiously the comfort adjustments happened quickly as I eagerly anticipated times ahead with our cubs.
Yesterday, we hiked up into Chico Basin. The night before we had seen Biscuit and Chico grazing on the lush green new vegetation of the basin. Every year people ask: "Do you think they will recognize you?" "Maybe this year they will be aggressive?" This latter question, is reducing in its frequency. I hiked over a small hill up in the far reaches of the basin and both cubs were in front of me. They looked bigger. I called out "Hey little bears!" They both looked up and watched with interest as we approached. Biscuit walked over and nuzzled my pack, which I had at my feet to remove my camera. She leaned towards me with her nose held out, inviting me to touch it with mine, which is a "bear greeting". Her face is huge now and her eyes as gentle as I remembered. They are certainly no longer "little bears"!
There are special relationships between Biscuit and me and between Charlie and Chico. I did not quite let my nose touch hers but she seemed satisfied with our eye contact, as I held my head a foot away, and did not pursue it. I felt as if I had returned to my second family. The bears had not forgotten anything about how to behave around us. They continue to be beautiful and gentle in our presence. Before heading back to our cabin, Charlie laced his fingers through Chico's claws, as he spoke quietly to her.
- Maureen