Churchill, Manitoba: Beyond the bear necessities
This is Main St, Churchill. Over 1,000 miles north of Winnipeg and linked by rail, not road, to the rest of Canadian civilisation, it feels as remote as it looks on a map. Yet while almost every visitor arrives in Churchill with the desire to exprerience a polar bear encounter (described in another 501 Places post), there is a lot about this small town of some 500 people that lingered with us long after we left.
Arriving here in mid October (1999), the thing that immediately struck us was the wind. Stepping off the plane, we were greeted by a real Arctic blast, and it immediately tested the quality of our new down jackets. While the thermometers read a sultry -10C, with the windchill added in it was closer to -40. This desolate shot of the main road that runs through the settlement neatly sums up life in Churchill.
Driving along the outskirts of the city, we found many strange relics of the past. There is an old rocket, perched on a stand, that sits benignly as if long forgotten. And then this aircrash wreckage, already there for 20 years back then, and with no-one having any interest in taking on the tough task of recovery. There is no shortage of space up here, and the logistics of clearing an aircraft hull clearly don’t appeal. Besides, it makes a talking point to visitors like us!
When all is said and done however, there is no escaping the hold that the polar bears have on Churchill. A couple of drinks in a bar, and a barman came in and told us to be careful as he had just met a bear rummaging through his garbage. Others reported frequent bear sightings while out on their daily business. Warning signs were around at many points (and of course these unique signs were available for purchase – we have one proudly hanging on our bathroom door). As the bears have got accustomed to considering human garbage as easy food, they have ventured increasingly into the town for an easy meal. Even the threat of polar bear prison on the edge of town has failed to act as a deterrent to these giant rogues.
We never actually saw a bear in the inhabited part of Churchill (which was a relief… I think?) although when out at night staring at the sky looking for the northern lights, we kept a close eye on the road around us too. These unauthorised excursions were discouraged by our hosts, who were anxious that we only head out at night with an armed escort. Indeed our driver in Churchill during the day, a friendly guy who who born in the town, was always near us with his rifle when we ventured into open ground, ready to take on any miscreants who approached us. At one point we did see a bear while looking at the old fortress on the edge of the town, but he was too far away to be of concern. Of more worry to some of us in fact was our driver’s obvious fascination with his weapon. On meeting him in the bus one time after a brisk walk, he was deep in concentration studying the latest copy of Guns and Ammo. Our American friends, coming from a gun-owning society, seemed less shocked at this than the two of us Brits!
Aside from an interesting local museum and the chance to take a husky ride, there is the old fortress and its associated history with the race to establish a north-west passage that would allow the fur trade to flourish. There is also a fascinating Northern Lights centre, although one sighting of the real thing and all the background information might pale into insignificance. And the cold is even an attraction in itself; there are few places on Earth where we are likely to go that will rival a winter’s day in Churchill. But for all these attractions, it is the bears that bring people to Churchill, and they were of course the highlight for us too.
