Thursday, 3 April 2025

OUR GREAT BEARS: URSAVUS TO NAN

GREAT BEAR NA̱N
Hiking in BC, both grizzly and black bear sightings are common. Nearly half the world's population, some 25,000 Grizzly Bears, roam the Canadian wilderness — of those, 14,000 or more call British Columbia home. 

These highly intelligent omnivores spend their days lumbering along our coastlines, mountains and forests.

Both bear families descend from a common ancestor, Ursavus, a bear-dog the size of a raccoon who lived more than 20 million years ago. Seems an implausible lineage given the size of their very large descendants. 

An average Grizzly weighs in around 800 lbs (363 kg), but a recent find in Alaska tops the charts at 1600 lbs (726 kg). 

This mighty beast stood 12' 6' high at the shoulder, 14' to the top of his head and is one of the largest grizzlies ever recorded — a na̱ndzi.

Adult bears tend to live solo except during mating season. Those looking for love congregate from May to July in the hopes of finding a mate. Through adaptation to shifting seasons, the females' reproductive system delays the implantation of fertilized eggs — blastocysts —until November or December to ensure her healthy pups arrive during hibernation. If food resources were slim that year, the newly formed embryo will not catch or attach itself to her uterine wall and she'll try again next year. 

Females reach mating maturity at 4-5 years of age. They give birth to a single or up to four cubs (though usually just two) in January or February. The newborn cubs are cute little nuggets — tiny, hairless, and helpless — weighing in at 2-3 kilograms or 4-8 pounds. They feast on their mother’s nutrient-dense milk for the first two months of life. The cubs stay with their mamma for 18 months or more. Once fully grown, they can run 56 km an hour, are good at climbing trees and swimming and live 20-25 years in the wild. 

A Grizzly bear encounter inspires a humbling appreciation of just how remarkable these massive beasts are. Knowing their level of intelligence, keen memory and that they have a bite force of over 8,000,000 pascals — enough to crush a bowling ball — inspires awe and caution in equal measure. 

They have an indescribable presence. It is likely because of this that these majestic bears show up often in the superb carvings and work of First Nations artists. I have had close encounters with many bears growing up in the Pacific Northwest, meeting them up close and personal in the South Chilcotins and along our many shorelines. 

First Nation Lore and Language

In the Kwak'wala language of the Kwakiutl First Nations of the Pacific Northwest — or Kwakwaka'wakw, speakers of Kwak'wala — a Grizzly bear is known as na̱n

The ornamental carved Grizzly bear headdress was worn by the comic Dluwalakha Grizzly Bear Dancers, Once more from Heaven, in the Grizzly Bear Dance or Gaga̱lalał, is known as na̱ng̱a̱mł

The Dluwalakha dancers were given supernatural treasures or dloogwi which they passed down from generation to generation. 

In the Hamat'sa Grizzly bear dance, Nanes Bakbakwalanooksiwae, no mask was worn. Instead, the dancers painted their faces red and wore a costume of bearskin or t̓ła̱ntsa̱m and long wooden claws attached to their hands. You can imagine how impressive that sight is lit by the warm flickering flames of firelight during a Winter Dance ceremony.

Smoke of the World / Speaking of the Ancestors — Na̱wiła

Kwaguʼł Winter Dancers — Qagyuhl
Should you encounter a black bear and wish to greet them in Kwak'wala, you would call them t̕ła'yi. Kwakiutl First Nations, Smoke of the World, count Grizzly Bears as an ancestor — along with Seagull, Sun and Thunderbird. 

To tell stories of the ancestors is na̱wiła. Each of these ancestors took off their masks to become human and founded the many groups that are now bound together by language and culture as Kwakwaka’wakw. 

The four First Nations who collectively make up the Kwakiutl are the Kwakiutl (Kwágu7lh), K’umk’utis/Komkiutis, Kwixa/Kweeha (Komoyoi) and Walas Kwakiutl (Lakwilala) First Nations. 

There is likely blood of the Lawit’sis in there, too, as they inhabited the village site at Tsax̱is/T'sakis, Fort Rupert before the Kwakiutl First Nations made it a permanent home. It was here that I grew up and learned to greet my ancestors. 

Not all Kwakwaka'wakw dance the Gaga̱lalał, but their ancestors likely attended feasts where the great bear was celebrated. To speak or tell stories of the ancestors is na̱wiła — and Grizzly bear as an ancestor is na̱n helus.

Visiting British Columbia's Great Bears

If you are interested in viewing British Columbia's Great Bears, do check out Indigenous Tourism BC's wonderfully informative website and the culturally-rich wildlife experiences on offer. You will discover travel ideas and resources to plan your next soul-powered adventure. To learn more about British Columbia's Great Bears and the continuing legacy of First Nation stewardship, visit: 

Indigenous Tourism BC: https://www.indigenousbc.com

Great Bear Lodge has been offering tours to view the majestic animals of the Pacific Northwest. They keep both the guests' and the animals' comfort and protection in mind. I highly recommend their hospitality and expertise. To see their offerings, visit: www.greatbeartours.com

Image: Group of Winter Dancers--Qagyuhl; Curtis, Edward S., 1868-1952, https://lccn.loc.gov/2003652753. 

Note: The Qagyuhl in the title of this photograph refers to the First Nation group, not the dancers themselves. I think our dear Edward was trying to spell Kwaguʼł and came as close as he was able. In Kwak'wala, the language of the Kwaguʼł or Kwakwakaʼwakw, speakers of Kwak'wala, the Head Winter Dancer is called t̕seḵa̱me' — and to call someone a really good dancer, you would use ya̱'winux̱w

Charmingly, when Edward S. Curtis was visiting Tsaxis/T'sakis, he was challenged to a wrestling competition with a Giant Pacific Octopus, Enteroctopus dofleini. George Hunt (1854-1933) my great great grandfather's elder brother had issued the challenge and laughed himself senseless when Edward got himself completely wrapped up in tentacles and was unable to move. Edward was soon untangled and went on to take many more photos of the First Nations of the Pacific Northwest. Things did not go as well for the octopus or ta̱ḵ̕wa. It was later served for dinner or dzaḵwax̱stala, as it seemed calamari was destined for that night's menu.  


Wednesday, 2 April 2025

HUMPBACK WHALES OF THE WEST COAST

This has been the week for Humpback whales visiting the eastern shores of Vancouver Island. These lovelies are, Megaptera novaeangliae, a species of baleen whale for whom I hold a special place in my heart. 

Baleens are toothless whales who feed on plankton and other wee oceanic tasties that they consume through their baleens, a specialised filter of flexible keratin plates that frame their mouth and fit within their robust jaws.

Baleen whales, the Mysticetes, split from toothed whales, the Odontoceti, around 34 million years ago. The split allowed our toothless friends to enjoy a new feeding niche and make their way in a sea with limited food resources. 

There are fifteen species of baleen whales who inhabit all major oceans. Their number include our Humbacks, grays, right whales and the massive blue whale. Their territory runs as a wide band running from the Antarctic ice edge to 81°N latitude. These filter feeders

In the Kwak̓wala language of the Kwakiutl or Kwakwaka'wakw, speakers of Kwak'wala, of the Pacific Northwest, and my cousins on my father's side, whales are known as g̱wa̱'ya̱m. Both the California grey and the Humpback whale live on the coast. Only a small number of individuals in First Nation society had the right to harpoon a whale. This is a practice from many years ago. It was generally only the Chief who was bestowed this great honour. Humpback whales like to feed close to shore and enter the local inlets. Around Vancouver Island and along the coast of British Columbia, this made them a welcome food source as the long days of winter passed into Spring.

Humpback whales are rorquals, members of the Balaenopteridae family that includes the blue, fin, Bryde's, sei and minke whales. The rorquals are believed to have diverged from the other families of the suborder Mysticeti during the middle Miocene. 

While cetaceans were historically thought to have descended from mesonychids—which would place them outside the order Artiodactyla—molecular evidence supports them as a clade of even-toed ungulates—our dear Artiodactyla. 

It is one of the larger rorqual species, with adults ranging in length from 12–16 m (39–52 ft) and weighing around 25–30 metric tons (28–33 short tons). The humpback has a distinctive body shape, with long pectoral fins and a knobbly head. It is known for breaching and other distinctive surface behaviours, making it popular with whale watchers and the lucky few who see them from the decks of our local ferries.

Both male and female humpback whales vocalize, but only males produce the long, loud, complex "song" for which the species is famous. Males produce a complex soulful song lasting 10 to 20 minutes, which they repeat for hours at a time. I imagine Gregorian Monks vocalizing their chant with each individual melody strengthening and complimenting that of their peers. All the males in a group produce the same song, which differed in each season. Its purpose is not clear, though it may help induce estrus in females and bonding amongst the males.

Humpback Whale, Megaptera novaeangliae
Found in oceans and seas around the world, humpback whales typically migrate up to 25,000 km (16,000 mi) each year. 

They feed in polar waters and migrate to tropical or subtropical waters to breed and give birth, fasting and living off their fat reserves. Their diet consists mostly of krill and small fish. 

Humpbacks have a diverse repertoire of feeding methods, including the bubble net technique.

Humpbacks are a friendly species that interact with other cetaceans such as bottlenose dolphins. They are also friendly and oddly protective of humans. You may recall hearing about an incident off the Cook Islands a few years back. Nan Hauser was snorkelling and ran into a tiger shark. Two adult humpback whales rushed to her aid, blocking the shark from reaching her and pushing her back towards the shore. We could learn a thing or two from their kindness. We have not been as good to them as they have been to us.

Like other large whales, the humpback was a tasty and profitable target for the whaling industry. My grandfather and uncle participated in that industry out of Coal Harbour on northern Vancouver Island back in the 1950s. So did many of my First Nation cousins. My cousin John Lyon has told me tales of those days and the slippery stench of that work.

Six whaling stations operated on the coast of British Columbia between 1905 and 1976. Two of these stations were located at Haida Gwaii, one at Rose Harbour and the other at Naden Harbour. Over 9,400 large whales were taken from the waters around Haida Gwaii. The catch included blue whales, fin whales, sei whales, humpback whales, sperm whales and right whales. In the early years of the century, primarily humpback whales were taken. In later years, fin whales and sperm whales dominated the catch. 

Whales were hunted off South Moresby in Haida Gwaii, on the north side of Holberg Inlet in the Quatsino Sound region. It was the norm at the time and a way to make a living, especially for those who had hoped to work in the local coal mine but lost their employment when it shut down. 

While my First Nations relatives hunted whales in small numbers and many years ago, my Norwegian relatives participated in the hunt on a scale that nearly led to their extinction before the process was banned. The Coal Harbour Whaling Station closed in 1967. Once it had closed, my grandfather Einar Eikanger, my mother's father, took to fishing and my uncle Harry lost his life the year before when he slipped and fell over the side of the boat. He was crushed between the hull and a Humpback in rough seas. 

Humpback populations have partially recovered since that time to build their population up to 80,000 animals worldwide—but entanglement in fishing gear, collisions with ships, and noise pollution continue to negatively impact the species. So be kind if you see them. Turn your engine off and see if you can hear their soulful cries echoing in the water.

I did up a video on Humpback Whales over on YouTube so you could see them in all their majesty. Here is the link: https://youtu.be/_Vbta7kQNoM

Tuesday, 1 April 2025

UNEARTHING FOSSIL BIRD BONES ON SOUTHERN VANCOUVER ISLAND

Stemec suntokum, a Fossil Plopterid from Sooke, BC
We all love the idea of discovering a new species—especially a fossil species lost to time. 

As romantic as it sounds, it happens more often than you think. 

I can think of more than a dozen new fossil species from my home province of British Columbia on Canada’s far western shores that have been named after people I know who have collected those specimens or contributed to their collection over the past 20 years. 

British Columbia, Canada, is a paleontological treasure trove, and one of its most rewarding spots is tucked away near the southwestern tip of Vancouver Island: the Sooke Formation along the rugged shores of Muir Beach.

A Beach Walk into Deep Time

Follow Highway 14 out of the town of Sooke, just west of Victoria, and you’ll soon find yourself staring at the cool, clear waters of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Step onto the gravel parking area near Muir Creek, and from there, walk right (west) along the beach. The low yellow-brown cliffs up ahead mark the outcrop of the upper Oligocene Sooke Formation, part of the larger Carmanah Group.

For collectors, families, and curious wanderers alike, this spot is a dream. On a sunny summer day, the sandstone cliffs glow under the warm light, and if you’re lucky enough to visit in the quieter seasons, there’s a certain magic in the mist and drizzle—just you, the crashing surf, and the silent secrets of a world long gone.

Geological Canvas of the Oligocene

The Sooke Formation is around 25 to 30 million years old (upper Oligocene), when ocean temperatures had cooled to levels not unlike those of today. That ancient shoreline supported many of the marine organisms we’d recognize in modern Pacific waters—gastropods, bivalves, echinoids, coral, chitons, and limpets. Occasionally, larger remains turn up: bones from marine mammals, cetaceans, and, in extremely rare instances, birds.

Beyond Birds: Other Fossil Treasures

The deposits in this region yield abundant fossil molluscs. Look carefully for whitish shell material in the grey sandstone boulders along the beach. You may come across Mytilus (mussels), barnacles, surf clams (Spisula, Macoma), or globular moon snails. Remember, though, to stay clear of the cliffs—collecting directly from them is unsafe and discouraged.

These same rock units have produced fossilized remains of ancient marine mammals. Among them are parts of desmostylids—chunky, herbivorous marine mammals from the Oligocene—and the remains of Chonecetus sookensis, a primitive baleen whale ancestor. There are even rumors of jaw sections from Kolponomos, a bear-like coastal carnivore from the early Miocene, found in older or nearby formations.

Surprisingly, avian fossils at this site do exist, though they’re few and far between. Which brings us to one of the most exciting paleontological stories on the island: the discovery of a flightless diving bird.

The Suntok Family’s Fortuitous Find

In 2013, while strolling the shoreline near Sooke, Steve Suntok and his family picked up what they suspected were fossilized bones. Their instincts told them these were special, so they brought the specimens to the Royal British Columbia Museum (RBCM) in Victoria.

Enter Gary Kaiser: a biologist by profession who, after retirement, turned his focus to avian paleontology. As a research associate with the RBCM, Kaiser examined the Suntoks’ finds and realized these were no ordinary bones. They were the coracoid of a 25-million-year-old flightless diving bird—a rare example of the extinct Plotopteridae. In honor of the region’s First Nations and the intrepid citizen scientists who found it, he named the new genus and species Stemec suntokum.

Meet the Plotopterids

Plotopterids once lived around the North Pacific from the late Eocene to the early Miocene. They employed wing-propelled diving much like modern penguins, “flying” through the water using robust, flipper-like wings. Fossils of these extinct birds are known from outcrops in the United States and Japan, where some specimens reached up to two meters in length.

The Sooke fossil, on the other hand, likely belonged to a much smaller individual—somewhere in the neighborhood of 50–65 cm long and 1.7–2.2 kg, about the size and weight of a small Magellanic Penguin (Spheniscus magellanicus) chick. The key to identifying Stemec suntokum was its coracoid, a delicate shoulder bone that provides insight into how these birds powered their underwater movements.

From Penguin Waddle to Plotopterid Dive

If you’ve ever seen a penguin hopping near the ocean’s edge or porpoising through the water, you can imagine the locomotion of these ancient Plotopterids. The coracoid bone pivots as a bird flaps its wings, providing a hinge for the up-and-down stroke. Because avian bones are so delicate—often scavenged or destroyed by ocean currents before they can fossilize—finding such a beautifully preserved coracoid is a stroke of incredible luck.

Kaiser’s detailed observations on the coracoid of Stemec suntokum—notably its unusually narrow, conical shaft—sparked debate among avian paleontologists. You can read his paper, co-authoried with Junya Watanabe and Marji Johns, was published in Palaeontologia Electronica in November 2015. You can find the paper online at:

 https://palaeo-electronica.org/content/2015/1359-plotopterid-in-canada

The Suntok Legacy

It turns out the Suntok family’s bird discovery wasn’t their last remarkable find. Last year, they unearthed part of a fish dental plate that caught the attention of Russian researcher Evgeny Popov. He named it Canadodus suntoki (meaning “Tooth from Canada”), another nod to the family’s dedication as citizen scientists. 

While the name may not be as lyrical as Stemec suntokum, it underscores the continuing tradition of everyday fossil lovers making big contributions to science.

Planning Your Own Expedition

Location: From Sooke, drive along Highway 14 for about 14 km. Just after crossing Muir Creek, look for the gravel pull-out on the left. Park and walk down to the beach; turn right (west) and stroll about 400 meters toward the sandstone cliffs.

Tip: Check the tide tables and wear sturdy footwear or rubber boots. Fossils often appear as white flecks in the greyish rocks on the beach. A small hammer and chisel can help extract specimens from coquinas (shell-rich rock), but always use eye protection and respect the local environment.

Coordinates: 48.4°N, 123.9°W (modern), which corresponds to around 48.0°N, 115.0°W in Oligocene paleo-coordinates.

Why Head to Sooke? Pure Gorgeousness!

Whether you’re scanning the shoreline for ancient bird bones or simply soaking in the Pacific Northwest vistas, Muir Beach offers a blend of natural beauty and deep-time adventure. For many, the idea of unearthing a brand-new fossil species seems almost mythical. 

Yet the Suntok family’s story proves it can—and does—happen. With an appreciative eye, a sense of curiosity, and a willingness to learn, any of us could stumble upon the next chapter of Earth’s distant past.

So pack your boots, bring a hammer and some enthusiasm, and you just might find yourself holding a piece of ancient avian history—like Stemec suntokum—in your hands.

References & Further Reading

Clark, B.L. and Arnold, R. (1923). Fauna of the Sooke Formation, Vancouver Island, B.C. University of California Publications in Geological Sciences 14(6).

Hasegawa et al. (1979); Olson and Hasegawa (1979, 1996); Olson (1980); Kimura et al. (1998); Mayr (2005); Sakurai et al. (2008); Dyke et al. (2011).

Russell, L.S. (1968). A new cetacean from the Oligocene Sooke Formation of Vancouver Island, British Columbia. Canadian Journal of Earth Sciences, 5, 929–933.

Barnes, L.G. & Goedert, J.L. (1996). Marine vertebrate palaeontology on the Olympic Peninsula. Washington Geology, 24(3), 17–25.

Kaiser, G., Watanabe, J. & Johns, M. (2015). A new member of the family Plotopteridae (Aves) from the late Oligocene of British Columbia, Canada. Palaeontologia Electronica.

Howard, H. (1969). A new avian fossil from the Oligocene of California. Described Plotopterum joaquinensis.

Wetmore, A. (1928). Avian fossils from the Miocene and Pliocene of California.