A Polar Bear in Paradise

When admitted entry to the Galapagos for scientific research of an endangered tortoise, the last thing I dared hope to find was a polar bear. Yet as I moved over an enormous, white body on the dusky beach, the undeniable black-eyed face blinked back at me. And then it also roared.

I snapped backward, pedaling along the sand like a chloroformed crab. What the actual fuck? I wasn’t prepared for this. There wasn’t any bear-mace in my pack. Hell, there weren't even ice cubes in my water bottle! The beast huffed, growling as its paws shifted through the sand. Sharp canines glinted in the sun, contrasting inky gums lurking in its maw. This was it. Rest in peace, lonely Ms. Fernandina Tortoise. Hopefully somebody else will find you a mate.

The bear’s body dragged a few meters toward me, slumping in jerky movements before it collapsed back to the ground. It squalled a pitiful noise, its limbs tangled beneath a literal ton of muscle and shaggy, wet fur. Okay. I surveyed the beach, my chest heaving. Palms rattled in the breeze along the craggy coastline. Before the terror, this was a beautiful, calm day.

Calm. C. A. L. M. Cease. Assess. Lean. Mitigate. Okay. Cease what I am doing - done. Assess the situation… upcoming. Then lean on others and mitigate the risks, alright. There is a bear. Addendum, there is a polar bear. Below the fucking equator. Calm.

Another deep breath filled my lungs. A squabble of marine iguanas lounged down the way, scaly bodies soaking up the orange sun. A bead of sweat rolled down my own forehead. Assess. It is hot out, Sherlock. Polar bears live in the arctic. I have to get this thing in the shade.

I risked another glance at the white creature. Beady, black eyes were still stalking. An earthquaking growl rumbled out when I took a step closer. Calm. Another step. It’s terrifying thunder didn’t quell, but it also didn’t seem eager to try standing again. Maybe it was injured.

I tiptoed up to the bear. Someday, I will happily receive my ‘world’s stupidest lady’ award. Yes, let’s walk up to the massive carnivore. These are the great ideas that get you PhDs. Maybe I’d even get a better grant sum if I lost my torso to a single chomp!

A foot away, the hints of brown in its dark eyes were visible. They regarded me with wariness once the rumbling died out. My hand was shaking when I reached, cringing away. I was ready for the bear to lunge and everything to run red. I was ready to scream.

But my hand found warm fur. I cracked an eyelid, peeking out. Its head still rested on the dune. Its eyes were still watching me, but I didn’t sense immediate doom. I stroked it, coarse, rough, long tendrils of smokey white hair. It felt like the whiskers of a cat.

The bear murmured after a moment, shifting its head toward me. Like one would with a horse or a large dog, I placed my palm against its cheek. The big eyes softened in some way. And the big body relaxed. How did it even get here? The sun caught my eyes again in a blaze. I riffled the satellite phone out of my pack and called back to base camp.

120 kilometers away, on Isabela Island, my team picked up.

“Wenford, is everything okay? Did you find a Fernandina?” Skylar was robotic in my ear. Sometimes I felt more like a soldier than a researcher with her calculated presence.

“No. Can you put Raul on? I need to talk with him.” I asked and glanced at the bear again, “Urgently.”

Many years ago, Raul had been part of an expedition team in the Canadian arctic monitoring blue-green algal blooms. I pet the bear gently during a few moments of fumbling and whispering.

“Jamie?” His deep voice set my mind at ease in an instant.

“Raul, I…” My sure-footed voice walked away in two words. How do I even begin to explain this? “I found something.”

“A Fernandina?” The hope in his voice drove an icicle through my gut.

“No. A, um, I found a bear.”

Silence seeped over the line. “A spectacled bear? I suppose you aren’t too far away from the Andes, but there is no way that a bear could swim a distance like that.”

“No, Raul.” I stopped his spinning. I wish I was sitting next to a cute, mottled spectacled bear. “A polar bear.”

I could imagine his mouth scrunching, the intensity of his eyes taking in a problem beyond comprehension. When he finally spoke, his words were quiet and sharp. “Are you sure?”

Wow. “Yeah, no, now I see it! It’s just a fucking albino Clifford, Raul!” Utter exasperation. “Yes I am fucking sure it is a polar bear! That’s why I called you!”

“That’s why you called me.” He repeated, sounding disheartened, as if he hoped to never dredge the freezing arctic from his memory again. “Shit. Okay, start talking to me then.”

“It’s just lying on the beach. I’m sitting with it. I’m worried it may be injured because it didn’t seem to move well when it charged me earlier.”

“I love how nonchalantly you’re saying those terrifying words, Jamie.” He chuffed, papers rustling through the phone. “Okay it is currently 80 degrees Farenheit where you are located.” Damn customary bastard. “First order is to keep that bear cold. Gonna be about an hour for us to get to you from Isabela, but we’ll take a boat to Fernandina and back. And I’m ordering a rescue copter from Ecuador right now to get us at base.”

“Okay,” I watched the bear closely, skimming over its twisted legs. Increasingly, more fur took on a pink hue. Something was bleeding.

“Now, you’re in a difficult spot because of the terrain on that western coastline. But to keep cool, you have the sea, your pack supplies, and any ruffage you can find.”

“There aren’t any trees I can fell easily.” Just the palms up along the ridgeline. And I didn’t have a knife good enough to make a lean-to out of those.

“Shrubbery? Grasses? Anything that blocks that damned sunlight.”

“Copy. There’s an injury but I can’t see the source. It’s folded over its front legs.”

“Can you try to roll it over? You should dig a pit in the sand as well and roll it there if you can.”

“Can I roll it over? Raul, this thing is massive! It’s like three meters long.”

“What? I thought you were dealing with a juvenile!” Panic sparked through the phone. My heart climbed back onto its tiny trampoline. “Why the fuck are you petting an adult polar bear?”

The sheer terror in his voice struck my legs into action, and I leapt down the beach. The bear roared at the sudden movement, but then settled its head back down.

I hope he didn't hear that.

“Jamie?” Did he think I was dead? He should know there would have been a lot more screaming if that was the case.

“Alive.” I whispered. “I’m gonna start getting supplies together.”

“Keep your head out of your ass, Wenford. I wanna see you in an hour.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have a good idea for my last words yet.

I dumped my pack out on the sand, tossing the phone down as well. My water bottle helpfully clanged on a rock. I slugged down all of the freshwater, wiping my brow again and trudged toward the ocean.

With a wide berth to the polar bear, I let the sea swirl around my feet and into the bottle. It was a perfectly cool temperature.

Do I just splash it onto the bear? That seemed like something apt to turn a calm bear into an eat-your-face bear. Oh well. I drizzled the water onto its back, watching wide-eyed as its hair wicked away the moisture. The beast murmured again, but didn’t shift. Maybe it is sandpit time, Raul.

I snagged an extra shirt from my pack, throwing it out to settle gently over the bear’s face and back. Were they like parrots that you could calm with a towel over their cage?

“Hey there,” I whispered to the polar bear, too terrified to feel like an idiot. “I’m just gonna dig behind you a little bit, okay? Gonna make you nice and cool until help gets here.” I started pawing at the sand.

When I was little, my family would boat out to an island in the middle of the town lake. And my brothers would dig giant trench hot tubs with a narrow water channel leading them out to sea for the water to rush in through. Then we’d lounge in the ditches like royalty, ignoring the enormous body of water just mere meters away.

Knelt behind the slow-breathing mass of muscle, I dug down into the sand until the earth was cold. I clawed at the wall of sand supporting the body until it began to give way. Saltwater funneled into the pit from my channel, like a log ride at an amusement park of death where the track ends in a polar bear maw.

Calm kept ringing in my head - a mantra that kept my hands moving and my heart tame.

The bear sighed as it finally sunk into the ditch, cool water pooling around its overheated body. Using my water bottle again, I re-saturated the shirt blanket, sat at the bear’s rear to shade its body, and settled in to wait.

“I’m sorry there isn’t much else I can do for you.” I told the creature. It chuffed at me, something I chose to take as a gesture of friendliness. “I don’t even know how you got here. Do you know how far away from home you are?”

I slid a hand through its fur again, unable to resist the once in a lifetime opportunity. Love and respect for animals fight hard battles sometimes in my mind.

“Were you taken from the ice? Did you have a family?” Maybe it escaped off of a poacher's boat in the Pacific. Maybe it swam all the way, lost in the currents of radar and cityscape. Maybe it really is an albino Clifford.

More water splashed over its broad back. I glanced north, imagining an arctic world eons away. My eyes followed a grey heron as it glided above the water. And on the southern horizon, I smiled at a boat.