Thunder In Her Body (42 page)

Read Thunder In Her Body Online

Authors: C. B. Stanton

“Good.  Good,” Kenny remarked.

“I can save some of the budget by not having to pull a staff member off their job to go with me and capture the work.  We try to tape everything we do with the bears for review later.”

“Let me just say this,” Blaze offered.  “As a guest biologist and his team, that’s Lynette, I’ll pay our way and reimburse the department for the entire trip so there won’t be any crap about abuse of government funds.  Anyway, we’re having some bear issues in New Mexico.  I’m sure I can consider this observation and training and I can take whatever I learn back home for use,” Blaze added.

“Let me work on it while you all are in Homer,” and I’ll get back with you in a day or so.  We really need to get to this old girl before she moves back up into the forest.”

 

From the Whooping Crane B&B, Blaze got to do the fishing Lynette knew he would enjoy.  The charter boat captain was delighted to have the last minute pair on his boat.  That was just extra money in his pocket.  With the two other couples already on board, the captain drove the boat to a place he swore would guarantee flounders for dinner. The captain made good on his promise.  Blaze’s first catch was over forty pounds, and he had to work hard to bring that monster into the boat.  Lynette clicked away with her digital camera, capturing every aspect of the trip.

If she was lucky, she could download the photos into the computer at the hotel.  The family and friends would have the pictures almost instantaneously – even before the fish was eaten.

Part of the excitement of this experience was dining at the B&B on the very fish caught just hours before. The chef at the facility, actually the owner, filleted the flounder, covered it with local herbs and broiled it to perfection.  Dinner doesn’t get any fresher than that.  Blaze was indebted to his bride for bringing him here.  It was everything she promised and more.

 

B
laze’s cell phone rang.

“Can you both be ready by five in the morning?” Kenny asked.

“Sure.  Anything special we need to have?” Blaze asked.

“Just really sturdy, comfortable shoes, those ski coats, you know, all the warm stuff you all had on the other day.  You might want to pick up some rain gear.  You know how the weather is up here,” Kenny added.

 

Lynette was scared shitless when Blaze told her they’d be taking a helicopter over to the island.  The reason she’d never made it to Katmai before was her fear of flying in tiny conveyances.  The smallest thing she ever wanted to fly in was a Southwest Airlines 737.  But she’d be dipped in horse manure and dragged over ground glass through the streets of the 5
th
ward in Houston before she’d admit it.  This was a once in a life time opportunity.  No, once in ten lifetimes, she thought.  She’d pull up her big girl panties, pretend to be calm, and go for the full experience.  She was sure this was a gift from God.  She would spoil nothing for Blaze.

 

Much of Kodiak Island had been designated a National Wildlife Refuge by President Roosevelt around 1941 because what it was, and what roamed there, was rare on the face of the earth.  There are no roads into or out of Kodiak once a person leaves the coastal villages on the island.  Access into the interior is only possible by air or grueling hikes.  Kenny checked in with his
guest biologist team
at the US Fish and Wildlife Service Outpost when they landed.  Lynette carried the video satchel like she knew what she was doing.  She checked the cartridges and lithium battery while Blaze and Kenny bullshited with the staff the way guys do.

 

The guys folded up the bulky telemetry equipment so that it fit comfortably in the cabin of the bug-shaped helicopter.  When the pilot lifted off, Lynette looked out into the water, then down, hoping that Blaze could not sense her fear.

“You doing ok,
Lynn,” he queried, a little concerned.

She didn’t exactly answer, neither did she lie.

“My God, it is so beautiful from up here,” she replied.

About ten minutes after take off, the pilot spotted mama bear and her cubs grazing near a rocky incline by the lake.  She was exactly where the radio telemetry signal had been the strongest.  The pilot sat down in a meadow about a mile from her location, then lifted off leaving the three team members on their own.  For a few minutes she was struck with the total silence.  There was no sound where they stood.  It was deathly still until the screech of an eagle cracked the silence.  Lynette was grateful for a lot of things.  At this point, she was most grateful for all the hip, stomach and leg exercise that had strengthened her from love-making with Blaze.  Exercise is good, she said to herself.  Huffing and puffing with Kenny in front and Blaze behind her, they reached a spot down-wind from mama bear.  They sat quietly watching her graze, amused at the playfulness of her two cubs.  Lynette focused the camera and watched through the mirrored lens.

“Wanna take the shot?” Kenny asked Blaze, as he loaded the dart rifle with the tranquilizer drug in it.

Blaze hesitated.  Lynette looked first at Kenny then back to Blaze.

“Unless he’s gotten rusty, he used to be able to shoot the eye out of a mosquito in flight,” Kenny teased.

Blaze aimed carefully.  The shot.  Lynette caught video of the impact as it hit mama bear, blowing back some of her fur.  The blow startled her and she began running.  Then she started to stagger.  After a minute or so, she fell to the ground on her stomach.  Walking as quietly as possible, the three approached the stunned bear.  Kenny waived Blaze and Lynette back.  He went first to test the bear’s reactions and make sure she was sedated. Then he and Blaze went immediately to work.  He put drops in her eyes to keep them moist.  Lynette tried to hold the camera steady, aiming its lens first at the whole picture, then at their hands.

“She won’t be out for long so we have to work fast,” Kenny admonished as he loaded another tranquilizer dart to shoot one of the twin baby bears.

Lynette caught the hurried action as the two men measured the big bear from nose to tail.  Handled and measured her 5 inch claws.  Poked around on her body to determine how nourished she was. Drew blood, saliva and milk and injected an antibiotic so she wouldn’t get sick from the darting.  Kenny re-checked her collar which was still holding well and asked Lynette to zoom in on the inside of her upper lip to show the serial number tattooed there.  Then he shot the dart into the closest of the twin bears.  Blaze watched mama bear for signs of stirring.  When the cub keeled over, the men rushed to it, weighed it in a sling with a small, portable scale, drew blood, checked for external parasites and carried it down to where the mother was beginning to stir.  They gently laid the baby near the mother, as the other frightened twin bleated and cried pitifully.  Lynette rubbed her hand through the rough fur of the mother bear, peppered with pieces of brush and weeds.  She dug deep for the full sensation, aware that she would never have this opportunity again.  “You’re a good mama,” she whispered to the semi-conscious bear.  She bent down and stroked the sleeping cub. Its fur felt like a fake fur couch
-throw she owned, soft and thick.  Quickly the three gathered up all their equipment and headed back to where the helicopter had dropped them off, calling ahead for the pick up.  They watched until the mama bear stood, acknowledged her groggy cub and called to the other nervous little one.  In time all three bears meandered off to where they needed to go.

 

Lynette was too excited to be scared on the return flight.  She was flooded with adrenaline, and though she’d said very little throughout the entire trip, she kept saying over and over again  - “Oh my Lord, Oh my Lord, I can’t believe this.”

 

Back in Homer at the B&B they passed on dinner and headed for a hot shower and rest.  They laid in bed eating the complimentary peanut butter crackers and drinking ice water.  Lynette confided to Blaze the night before they journeyed over to Katmai, that she wanted each day of the rest of their lives to have at least one new experience in it.  She never wanted the unknown to stop them from enjoying life.  She never wanted their lives to grow stale and routine.

“Whatever happens to us in the future, I want us to be there together,” she said as she threw an arm across his chest, a big leg across his and pulled the covers up on them.

 

Lynette had included the next part of their vacation in her plan, but after the Kodiak trip, everything else was anti-climactic.  Fear of flying was now vanquished.

 

There are no roads leading into
Katmai National Park.  Access is gained by boat or little Cessna-type planes.  Passengers are restricted to 50 pounds of luggage apiece on these
bush hoppers
, so most of their luggage had to stay in the hotel in Homer.  The first plane of the trip landed at a place called King Salmon, the only lodge accommodations in the area outside the park.  From there Blaze and Lynette boarded another tiny flying machine, with one other couple, and flew the 20 minutes to Brooks Lodge.  Talk about remote!  There were the owners of the lodge, six other guests, Blaze, Lynette and the new couple - and big brown bears.  Lots of big brown bears – grizzlies.  And that’s it.  The bears occasionally wandered up near the lodge and everyone was warned to make lots of noise when walking outside of the buildings and always to stay in pairs.  They were admonished not to have food in their rooms, or in the tiny cabins surrounding the main building.  Food was to be consumed only in the main part of the lodge for their protection.  Though the bears had plenty of salmon to eat, they were not adverse to sampling cinnamon rolls and ham sandwiches.

 

The honeymooners opted to stay in one of the cozy cabins rather than the lodge proper, for privacy sake, even though the cabins were furnished with bunk beds.  Though they loved chatting with strangers, and they thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the lodge lobby warming themselves around the circular fire pit, making friends and sharing stories, they loved being alone together more.  Besides, they had a history now, of sharing a twin-size bed, and if one got uncomfortable, he or she could just climb the ladder to the top bunk.  Life is so simple if you don’t try to complicate it Blaze once told her!  Blaze, ever playful with his bride, kept complaining that he needed more room, so Lynette, the ever dutiful wife, climbed up the ladder to the top bunk – with Blaze watching from the bottom bunk, what the short night gown did not cover.  Then he’d whine that he was chilly and lonely, so she would climb back down, again with Blaze lying on his back, looking up at the awkward way her legs splayed outward as she stepped down on each rung.  The second time he did it, and she went up and down again, she insisted that they continue that pattern, on just a grander scale!

 

The walk down from the Lodge to the Brooks River was less than a half mile, and people often encountered bears on the way to the viewing area.  Blaze noticed the movement in the trees long before Lynette, and he kept watch as they passed the movement.  In the Apache culture, bears are held in great respect and observed with reverence.  It is an animal that the Apache do not molest.  Blaze explained that when an Apache encounters a bear in the wild, he or she addresses the bear as
my grandfather or my uncle
and tells the bear to go on off into the wild where it will be safe and can live out its life in peace, following the instructions of nature.

 

With the other guests, they watched twenty-six grizzly bears snatching salmon up from the river, and at the Falls, they actually saw salmon jumping out of the water into the waiting mouths of seasoned and skilled older bears.  If you saw it on National Geographic, most likely this is where it was filmed.  Younger, less experienced bears tried to snag a darting salmon several times, before they achieved success.  But, suffice it to say, no bear goes hungry at Brooks River and the Falls.

 

Salmon begin their life-ending run back up the rivers of Alaska, striving to get back to where they were born so they can lay and fertilize their eggs.  This insures another generation of millions of their offspring.  The bears instinctively know when the salmon runs begin and they come to the waters of Katmai between late June and September to feed at this best of nature’s feasts.  This was prime bear fishing season.  In Ketchikan, a few years before, Lynette’s guide said that in the smaller streams and rivers, the salmon are so tightly packed fighting their way upstream, that a man can walk across the stream on their backs.  So, they watched in awe as these beautiful, huge brown bears gorged themselves, packing on the pounds which would take them through the imposed fast of winter.

 

They kept trying to find other adjectives to describe their honeymoon, as they wrote post cards or talked via cell phone to people back home, but the word magical kept surfacing.

 

Dutch Harbor was their last planned stop before heading back home.  The aggressive itinerary was about to end.  If she was lucky, Lynette was counting on recognizing one or more crew members from the crab fleet that frequently off-loaded their catch there.  Would she ask for an autograph if she did?  Probably!

“There are approximately eighty volcanoes in the Aleutian chain, many of which are still active,” the pilot of the Aire Alaska prop jet explained.  “We’ll fly near or over a couple of them so you can see the smoke plumes coming out,” he added.  Blaze peered out of the window intently, as if looking for something particular.  The pilot who flew this route several times a month was fully familiar with the history of the region.  He knew about Adak Station.  She’d watched a National Geographic program on World War II and
America’s vulnerability to a Japanese attack in that part of the world.  Somewhere up there were two islands, one belonging to Russia and the other to the United States, separated only by so little as two or three miles, where the Americans, with binoculars, watched the Russians, with binoculars, and visa versa during the Cold War.  The official port of Dutch Harbor lay out in the Aleutian chain in the sleepy little village of Unalaska with a population of about 4000 people.  Upon arrival they checked into a very modest bed and breakfast which sat upon a hill.  From there they could see most of the town and the lovely white Holy Ascension Russian Orthodox Church, with its red roofs and onion-dome pinnacles. For the two days they were there, they ate meals of seafood, especially salmon, and visited the bars where they could hear the first hand stories of the brave seamen who went out into the treacherous and icy Bering Sea.  They heard about men who spent endless hours pulling in 800 pound crab pots to earn a yearly check. They visited the memorial built to acknowledge the lost mariners; the men who went out to the sea and never returned.  For one of several reasons, Lynette got the feeling that Blaze had been there before, but she didn’t ask.  It was not until they waited in the small airport hanger to leave that he said, “It’s changed a lot.  It looks a lot better.”

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