Hunting the Ice Bear

My journey began in March of 1982, as I left Philadelphia to start a 2 day trek to the Frobosher Bay, an inlet of the Labrador Sea in the Qikiqtaaluk Region of Nunavut, Canada, located in the southeastern corner of Baffin Island. I was about to embark on the biggest challenge of my life - the hunt for the largest carnivore on Earth - the Polar Bear.

Prior to my departure, I had gathered all the proper gear, got a lesson on hypothermia, and packed 10 pounds of smoked bacon.

Even with all of my preparations and even though I'd hunted all over Alaska, something about this hunt had me on edge.

I understood the temperatures would be 35-45 below zero. I've had no problems with temperatures near that. I've been at 14,000 feet in blizzard conditions with gale winds and been fine. It wasn't the weather.

I had also shot a brown bear that died not 20 yards from me. Fear is not the problem.

I just couldn't put my finger on it.

 Arriving in Frobisher Bay, the temperature was 43 below zero. It was cold and the hairs in my nostrils froze.

I made contact with my guide and headed off to Arctic Bay, an Inuit hamlet located in the northern part of the Borden Peninsula on Baffin Island.

In Arctic Bay, about 45 minutes from Frobisher, I met with the game officer and purchased my licenses. As a safety precaution it was explained to me that there would be another hunting party joining us. It was here that I met my hunting partner, Emory Miller.

We were supplied with caribou skins that we would wear as our outer protection. These outfits, including a parka, pants, gloves, and boots had been specifically made for us by the local Inuits. I would soon realize that these skins would be the difference between life and death in the Arctic.

We spent most of the night getting ready for our trip onto the ice.

We would have radio communication with Arctic Bay and if an emergency arose, the Army would have to fly in to rescue us.

It was nearly impossible to sleep and I found my previous unrest returning. What would I be facing? I thought of Columbus and his adventures and wondered what all went through his mind as he embarked upon new territory.

Suddenly, it was morning and it was time.

The sleds, snow mobiles, and gear were all ready. I asked about our dog team and was told they were already out on the ice, ready to hunt.

With one snow mobile pulling the load up the mountain, it became evident half way up that one just wasn't going to get the job done. With experienced guides however, they had already anticipated the issue and another snow mobile was waiting for us at the midway point. Now with two snow mobiles, the sleds were pulled up to the top of the mountain one at a time.

At the top of the mountain, I really understood what this climate was all about. I started to wonder how, with all of these clothes, and this unbelievably frozen air, I would possibly chase a bear in these conditions.

We would soon find out.

My ski goggles helped with the fine mist and kept the cold out of my eyes. I remembered feeling my eye lids freezing shut when I got to Frobisher Bay and I was grateful for the extra protection.

Three hours into our trek, it was time to take a break. Our guides took a Coleman stove from the sleds and started a nice fire. They took some snow and melted it to make tea. What a strange place for tea time in the middle of the frozen Arctic!

I took off my gloves for just a few seconds to light a cigarette and my hands literally felt like they were going to fall off. This cold was something else.

From that point on, I limited my exposure and only smoked when Tommy was also lighting a cigarette for himself.

It was at this time that I introduced my guides to smoked bacon. It had not yet frozen solid and it was delicious raw. I was grateful to have it and it kept me going throughout the trip.

This time of year, the area sees about 16 hours of daylight, with the sun rising around 4am and darkness settling in around 10pm. I was glad we made it to camp by nightfall.

Upon arriving at camp, I saw two igloos and quickly realized those were our accommodations. I had expected tents but after spending time in the igloos, I found them to be quite comfortable.

The last man in had to seal up the entrance and a small hole at the top of the igloo was the only opening to the outside. The radio hung on a piece of wood near the opening for communicating with the outside world.

 I slept very soundly in my sleeping bag on this first true Arctic Night.

After breakfast the next morning, we returned to the Arctic climate.

Most of the food was freeze dried, but my breakfast, lunch, and dinner consisted mostly of bacon and soup.

As we headed out on dog sled, I felt as though my adventure was truly beginning and the excitement crept into me.

Our lead dog's name was Amacilijak, meaning "wolf-like". She was all white, beautiful, and strong. As she pulled the team ahead, I knew somewhere out there was my trophy.

As I looked across the ice, I pictured the polar bear hunting. He was hunting for survival and this intrigued me.

For days,  my rifle had been on my mind. Prior to my hunt, my brother Ben, a gunsmith, took both of my rifles apart to degrease them. They had been totally disassembled using extreme caution on the firing pin. Now it was time to see if those precautions had paid off. I brought out a few targets and set them up.

I was shooting a 300 Weatherby with 180 grain bullets, along with a 700 Remington 7-MM Magnum with 150 grain factory ammunition. Both rifles fired dead on.

The dog team was ready again as we repacked our rifles and gear and headed out.

I decided I would try to hunt without the caribou skins. I felt the bulk of the clothing would hinder my pursuit of the bear and I didn't want to take any chances. The hunt was on.

It's a remarkable sight to see nine dogs pulling the sled with all of the heavy gear packed on it. They pulled about a thousand pounds on each sled and the dogs seemed to have a strength of 10 to 1.

As we went through different types of snow, we would have to get off the sleds and help the dogs push through. I found it very difficult to be off the sled and noticed that the sensation of being on the ice was something very new to me. Saltwater ice is nothing like freshwater ice. You expect to slip but instead you hold firm. It just took some getting used to.

We would travel until we hit a pressure ridge. This is where jagged ice juts up into the air maybe 20 to 30 feet. We'd then climb up it and scan the area with binoculars. Every time you exhaled, you would frost up the lens. I found that frost on the lens is a problem and that even the heat and moisture from your eyes will freeze it up.

We traveled about 20 miles that first day. We didn't spot any bears or tracks and had plans to meet Emory at a huge iceberg just North of our camp. We arrived about an hour before dark but there was no sign of Emory and his guides.

At this camp, there was nothing. It was here I experienced building an igloo.

Using a dog whip as a straight edge, and with a regular handsaw, 80 to 90 blocks of snow are cut approximately 30"x 20"x 10". They are then placed in a circle and built from there.

Once completed, the igloo is sealed by packing snow into each crack. Inside, water is boiled to create moisture inside that adds additional insulation as it hits the snow walls.  The architecture and craftsmanship is astounding.

I have to say, the Inuit have to be commended. They are, by far, the most industrious people I've ever had the pleasure to know.

Tommy worked for hours building our igloo while I was on the lookout for Emory and his guides. As night grew close, we were getting anxious.






It was almost midnight when the igloo was finished and yet still no Emory. I noticed a light to the west of us in the distance and hoped it was them. We tried to reach them on the radio but had no luck. We discussed the possibility that maybe they had gotten a bear and decided that Esan should head out and try to reach the light.

For two hours, he tried to get through the rough ice but failed in the darkness. Knowing there was nothing more we could do, exhausted, we went to bed.

Early the next morning, Tommy climbed a large iceberg that he thought had come from Greenland and spotted Emory's dog team. From what he could tell, everyone was accounted for and everything seemed okay.

We loaded the sleds and headed in Emory's direction. When we met up  with them a few hours later, they told us they had pursued two bears but they weren't able to get a shot. They didn't meet up with us at our rendezvous point because they knew they wouldn't be able to see the iceberg. They had decided to camp for the night.

Emory seemed really beat. He told me about an experience that he had which had him on edge. Apparently, he had to go to the bathroom the day before and while on the ice, you just "go" on the ice.    In the middle of defecating, he heard the dogs growling and noticed them running toward him full speed! Frightened, he got himself together and took off, thinking the dogs were chasing him. When he looked back, the dogs had stopped where he had been, eating his excrement.

It was then that I remembered that we were told to always go upwind of the dogs. They will come after you for it as a food source.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten this fact later in the hunt and had this same frightening experience. It's terrifying to have 10 dogs coming for you, with nowhere to go and nothing to do but scream for help.

Survival here is something to be seen.

The next morning, the Arctic air was crisp as we went out to scout around.

In the Arctic, there is an occurrence where a crack in the ice will appear. This crack is opened by the water currents and closed by the cold. The Eskimos call this "the crack". At a distance, you can see smoke rising from "the crack" into the sky. The heat from the water creates a black mist that can be seen for miles. As the moisture rises, it crystallizes and makes fine snow.

As Tommy and I headed toward the  nearest crack, we saw two old tracks but no bears.

While Emory and his guides waited at camp, Juda, Andrew and I went seal hunting. Fresh meat for the dogs was a must so seal hunting here is a matter of survival. Andrew got his seal and we headed back to camp for the night.

The next morning, Tommy was ready bright and early with water heating for tea.

The tea water comes from a block of ice that's brought into the igloo the night before. We also retrieved water directly from icebergs as well. The Eskimos believe  icebergs are thousands of years old and are the purest water on Earth.

The Japanese come annually and export this ice to sell in Japan for a very steep price.

After breakfast, it was time to unseal the door. Tommy then went to work on the sled referred to as a "Kom Ma Tick" by the Eskimos.

There is a tremendous amount of work that goes into keeping the Kom Ma Tick tuned as the runners of the sled have to be kept incredibly smooth.

Mud, grass, and moss are first ground up and then combined with heated water. The Eskimos then make mud balls from this mixture and apply it to the runners where it quickly freezes.

Once frozen, the mixture is then sanded with a rasp. Warm water is then brushed onto the runners with caribou hair. Many layers are put on before forming a good crust of ice. It is then sanded again. The entire procedure takes approximately two hours and has to be done every day.

We loaded camp, got the dogs harnessed, and were ready to head out. Emory and his crew went North, while we headed West toward the crack.

About a half mile from the crack, the wind was really blowing from the Northwest. This was the first time I experienced seeing the mist coming from the opening. It was incredibly strange. The sun was shining but when we approached the smoke filled area, it was dark.

We saw two sets of old tracks but no signs of life except the occasional raven.

We hunted the whole day and worked our way in a circle back to base camp.

Emory had arrived just before us and while he too saw old tracks, he also didn't see any bear.

That night at camp, we exchanged some concerns about our rifles. They were being kept on the sleds under caribou hides but the constant jumping on and off the sleds certainly weren't doing the scopes any justice. We decided to shoot the rifles the next morning to ensure they were still sighted in.

That night, during our dinner of pork chops, soup, and bacon, we heard on the radio that an Eskimo had gotten a 7.5 foot polar bear at Pond Inlet, 150 miles Northeast of us. This news excited us and our hope was lifted again.

That night, Emory wasn't feeling too well. 

The cold and climate were having an impact on both of us. We both had frost bite on different parts of our body. Tommy told me that parts of my face were frozen. I took a small mirror from my pocket and sure enough,  I had several frozen marks on my face. Esan then showed me all of the frozen marks he had as well. Apparently, among Eskimos, this is common.

This night, I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned until 2:30am, wondering if I'd get the opportunity to see the mighty carnivore in his home environment.

The morning came quick and Emory and I decided to fire our rifles. Mine was out so I took some time to sight it in.

Emory and I got to work on breakfast. He fried up some pork chops, while I made tea. We fried up some bacon, cut everything up real well, and made one hell of a soup.

The guides got to work on the sleds and shortly thereafter we were ready to go. Again, we headed West, traveling and then stopping to take a look with binoculars, as usual. Tommy finally suggested a tea break which we typically did once per day. I have to say, it was quite refreshing to take on this heated brew. We had some smoked bacon as well which always felt very nourishing.

We started out again and at about 2 miles from our last stopping point, we saw a huge, fresh track. The dogs were fighting and we headed for the closest pressure ridge to get a better look. After 20 minutes of looking, still no bear. We then decided to get on the trail. We had gone about 1,000 yards and came up on another small pressure ridge. The sled skid down and got stuck with a loud thud. Luckily, we were both off the sled at the time.

With the thud, instantly we saw a huge polar bear making a dash for heavy ice. I grabbed my rifle. The bear was between 400-500 yards and running. First, I could see him, and then I couldn't. The pressure ridges were helping him hide.

In the meantime, Tommy let all nine dogs loose and off they went! I fired four shots but didn't connect. We took off on foot. The bear was heading for the crack about 2 miles away. We had to catch up!

Tommy was running ahead of me. We ran for about a half mile and could hear the dogs keeping the bear at bay. My body was steaming from the exertion, and I must have fallen at least thirty times. We were getting closer and finally I saw the bear. He was about 350 yards away. I set my 300 on some ice and lined him up. He was standing. What a huge bear. I was just about to squeeze the trigger and he dropped out of sight. I thought maybe I had hit him.

Seconds later, I saw a dog flying through the air, fifteen feet off the ground. It was evident that the bear was off running and the marathon was on again.

After about a quarter of a mile, I came upon another pressure ridge and saw blood and hair all over the place. I walked another 50 yards and found our lead dog, Amacilijak. There she was on the ice, with her insides strewn all over.

I can't even explain the feelings that came over me.

I was going to get this bear if it killed me.

I took off across the ice, faster than before. Adrenaline pumping, my only thought was a repetitive mantra - Get This Bear, Get This Bear.

We went another half mile and I climbed up a pressure ridge. Tommy said the bear made the crack and to wait while we listened for the dogs. For the first time in my life, I was frothing at the mouth.

I couldn't believe it. This hunt was now more important to me than ever before. This bear was absolutely the King of the Arctic. He was fast, agile, strong, and smart. I knew that this bear was worth whatever it was going to take. I knew at that point, that the climate would not be a deterrence. My drive was now at it's peak.

When the dogs came back, another one of the team was missing and Tommy and I took the dogs and went to look for him. We found him 300 yards from the crack. At first, we thought he too was dead but when we got close to him, we found him just wounded. His leg had been slashed to the bone in two places. We got him on his feet and started back.

We made our way back to where I saw Amacilijak. I had been sure she was dead when I passed her prior but when she now saw the dogs with us, she tried to get up and come to us, dragging her insides behind her. At that point, I knew I had to shoot her. What a terrible feeling.

We got back to the sled and I was completely exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. My body was still steaming and I was trying to cool down. As I ran my hand through my hair, I realized it was all frozen. My entire head was completely frozen.

On our way back, we found a hole dug into the snow about 400 yards from where the sled had gotten stuck. Tommy explained that this was where the bear had been laying.

It was dark when we got back to camp. I knew I wouldn't sleep, regardless of how tired I was. I couldn't stop seeing that bear and the dogs. Every one of those dogs was a valiant warrior. I knew I had to live up to them.

The next day, we decided to move camp. We had our normal breakfast, everything was loaded, and we were ready to go. Our plan was to meet 10 miles south a few hours before dark and build igloos there in some new territory.

We traveled more this day than any other but only saw old tracks. We had our tea break and Tommy checked on the dog that had been wounded. He was healing up nicely. If he had been wounded in any other environment, his wound would have gotten infected, but this climate doesn't allow for such things.

The day passed quickly... too quickly. We were too far from our rendezvous point so we had to stop and start building an igloo at our current location.

It's of utmost importance that the right snow is found for the igloo. The depth and compactness are crucial.

Tommy searched and found the right snow bank and we started to build. I helped by carrying the ice blocks, which weighed about 40 pounds each. We were done in about 2 hours and were ready for the comforts inside.

We contacted Juda by radio and gave him our position. We told him we were fine and that we'd try to meet up with him tomorrow and if not, Tommy and I would do a repeat. We had our dinner and went fast to sleep.

We woke the next morning at 5am. The sun had already been up for an hour and it was time for our breakfast of soup and bacon. It was always a nice, warm way to start the day.

We headed out and traveled about twelve miles before stopping for tea and bacon. We were on the prowl all day, hoping for a sign of the bear but saw nothing.

By almost nightfall, we were approximately 20 miles from our last camp so we decided to start building a new igloo in our current location. We went through the whole process all over again and I was really becoming worn out. Everything felt exhausted but I  kept remembering the dogs and the bear and suddenly I felt rejuvenated.

Even though I tossed and turned this night, we were finally all asleep.

The next morning, we woke again at 5am. My eyes were swollen and my nose had frost bite. My hands and toes were hurting and I felt terrible. God bless, Tommy. He really took care of me. He is truly what ever guide should profile themselves after. Again, I needed to inspire myself to get this bear.

Tommy had the sled all ready. We loaded our camp again and took off. We saw two sets of old tracks and stopped on one of the pressure ridges to take a look around. We must have been looking through those binoculars for 30 minutes when I thought I saw something yellow.

I tried to point it out to Tommy but by the time I did, it was gone. I watched that area for twenty more minutes...nothing.

We decided to head over to that area for a better look. We got over about a mile, climbed another pressure ridge and started looking. I was still looking in the general area of where I had thought I saw something earlier and suddenly, there he was.

He was heading for the crack. We had to be fast. I shed some clothing and grabbed my 7mm, hoping it might change my luck.

Once Tommy got the dogs untied, we took off running. We knew the crack was a mile away. We had to beat the bear.

We went through the roughest ice on the trip but we were making good time. We kept watching as we went to ensure we didn't get too close too fast. It was a dangerous situation and we tried to stay hidden on the ridges so we could see him first, before he knew we were there.

Before we knew it, we heard ice breaking and some kind of splash. We were right next to the crack and we jumped up on some high ice. From there, we saw, it wasn't one bear... it was three. Three full grown bears on the other side of the crack. I put my scope on them as they were only a couple hundred yards away, but on the other side of the opening. My heart was pounding. They had beaten us again.

This was my low point. It was actually all of our low points - Tommy, the dogs, and me. The dogs seemed even more disappointed than we were.

It was more important now to keep my spirits up. I knew sooner or later, I would be in the right place, at the right time.

We worked our way back to the sled. It was getting late so we decided we would just make camp. We hoped that prowling night bears didn't decide to make their way into our igloo.

We found a good spot with the right snow and got to work on another igloo. It didn't take too long since by now I knew what needed to be done.

Once settled inside, I looked at Tommy and said, "Maybe tomorrow." He said, "Maybe," back with a smile. No one could have tried harder than this man was trying for me.

Once our radio was setup, we checked in with Juda. They had seen some fresh tracks but didn't see any bear. They were approximately ten miles south of us.

After dinner, I was in my sleeping bag thinking, "Tomorrow is April 1st." How that date rang out in my mind as 22 years before, my father had died on April 1st. When they told me he had died, I thought they were playing an April Fool's Day joke on me. It was the saddest day of my life and on that day, a piece of me died.

Every once in awhile when the going gets tough, I talk to him in my mind. This night, I asked him for his help. It wasn't the first time and I was sure it wouldn't be the last. I asked him to take this date that was such a disaster and bring some happiness to it. Make this the day. I tossed and turned all night with this thought... Make this the day.

On the eighth day, April 1st, we woke at 5am and had our usual breakfast. Tommy worked on the sled. Everything got loaded and we were ready to go. We got into more open country and you could see for miles.

Tommy and Esan had to hunt seals for several hours to get the dogs fed.

At about 10 miles, we ran across a fresh track, the biggest one yet. We got right after it as it was apparent that the bear had passed within the hour. He was heading toward the crack. We got right up to the rough ice, the crack only a quarter mile away. We got up as high as we could and looked but there was no sign of the bear. He had crossed.

We ran across two more sets of tracks but never saw any bear. We determined there were more bear here than any other place we had been so we decided to camp nearby.

We found a good spot and started building our igloo but I was exhausted. By 9pm, we were finished and I crawled inside and took off my gloves. As I started to warm my hands, my mind drifted back to my dad, I guess this day has to stay the way it's always been, Black April 1st.

I had just finished my thoughts when Tommy came into the igloo. Suddenly, Easu head poked through the hole and he was hollering, "Polar bear! Polar bear!"

Tommy and I looked like two mice being chased by a cat as we both got back through the hole. As soon as I got out, I saw the bear 500 yards to the left gliding along. A big bear!

I grabbed my rifle and Esan and I took off after the bear. I didn't realize that I had left my gloves in the igloo but I soon felt the sting in my hands and realized my hood was also down, but I couldn't stop now. Tommy was releasing the dogs one by one and they soon ran by us. The marathon was on and they caught the bear about 1000 yards from camp.

I knew now that I was in the right place at the right time. He had no rough ice to hide in or to slow me down. The dogs were fiercely fighting only a couple hundred yards away. I dared to go closer, hoping he would hold. If he broke, I at least knew that I was prepared to shoot. He was in range. I closed the gap to 150 yards. I probably could have gotten a little closer but decided to shoot then and there so we didn't lose any more dogs.

He was moving around pretty quick. My cross hairs were following his shoulder. If he would just stop for a second.

He stopped! I was just ready to squeeze a shot off when two of the dogs jumped right into my scope. As once before, I waited, my heart pounding, my mind racing, my hands on fire, my ears feeling like they were going to fall off... and then there it was.

He stopped. The cross hairs just behind his shoulder. I fired and he went down. He got back up quickly and started up a small grade. I focused again on his shoulder and fired. He went down.

The dogs were biting every part of him, settling their revenge for their lost companion.

Tommy came over, gave me his gloves, and closed up my hood, but the cold had already done its damage. My hands were blistering and my ear felt like I had a blow torch on it.

We went over to my trophy. He was magnificent and we rejoiced. He was almost 10 feet tall from nose to tail and probably 900-1000 pounds.

It was then that we had noticed an igloo about 10 yards away and realized it was where Emory and Juda had camped the night before.

By the time we were settled back in, it was almost 12:30am. I had no appetite at all and had just a cup of hot chocolate. Tommy radioed Juda and we found out that Emory had gotten his bear at 3:30pm that same day. He had left and was probably in Arctic Bay by now. Tomorrow, we too would be heading back.

It took us 14 hours the next day to return to Arctic Bay. The wind was blowing about 30 mph. I wore the parka the Eskimos had made for me. Without it, I would have surely frozen. The chill factor had to be somewhere around -70.

We got into Arctic Bay around 12:30am. We measured Emory's bear and it was 9ft. A magnificent trophy and one I'm sure he'll never forget.

I went into the house where I was staying and sat on the couch for an hour before I could even more to take off my clothes. I slept like I had never slept before.

I spent the next three days in Arctic Bay and was truly treated like a king. Tommy gave me two figurines that he had carved out of soap stone, a hunter and a bear. He had carved these himself and told me he wanted me to have them to remember him. How could I ever forget him? "You remember," he said to me.

It's been 22 years since my dad passed away. Isidoro Sorace was a great man and I still miss him. I wish he was by my side, giving me confidence and love, like he always had. However, I realized that he was closer to me than he had been before and I was grateful that he shared this experience with me in his own way... my bear for dad.