The Vanished Bears of Cumberland

Last September, the tiny village of Cumberland on Vancouver Island turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet for black bears. At times, close to thirty bears could be seen roaming like big black buddahs around the town of 2,700.

As this September came to close, however, not a single bear had been sighted in Cumberland.

A small part of the black bear problem is Cumberland's location - the town is surrounded on three sides by wilderness (including Strathcona Provincial Park to the west) and forms part of the black bear migratory route. The ravenous bears descend from the high country around Cumberland (which backs onto the magnificent Beaufort Range) and converge on the nearby Courtenay and Puntledge Rivers.

"Bears are very hungry in the fall as they bulk up," says Dan Dwyer the senior conservation officer for the Comox Valley. "Last year there was no rain. No rain means no berries so the bears start roaming and come down into the valley looking for food elsewhere."

Elsewhere was Cumberland. Garbage left at the curb well before garbage day pick up was one yummy dish, another fine course on the bears make-like-Yogi menu, was fruit. Most houses in the historic coal mining and logging town have well-established fruit trees, grown by families with many generations here. Not only are the trees full of fruit, but the ground is covered in apples, pears and plums. There are also many deserted orchards around town that haven't been tended for years that the bears frequent.

Black bears lived under fruit trees for days in a Bacchanalian reverie.

A love, then hate, relationship

"The people of Cumberland, at first, were extremely tolerant of the bears - in fact to a degree I think they enjoyed their presence," says Dwyer.

My neighbour Ralph remembers talking to a bear that was sprawled in front of his house drunk on fermented fruit. "He was perfectly harmless," chuckles Ralph.

It wasn't long before the warm and fuzzy Marlin Perkins' Wild Kingdom feeling faded and problems started to arise.

"It was like an invasion of rats," said another neighbour who'd had enough.

Bears started trying to get their paws into houses through cat doors to get at garbage stored in laundry rooms and others began ripping apart sheds to get at garbage. Some teenagers began taunting and teasing the docile bears.

Soon enough, the conservation officers were called in. Cumberlanders were divided about what they wanted done with the bears, some wanted the conservation officers to get rid of the bears; others wanted the bears to be left alone. The numerous mediations the conservation officers had to perform led them to be dubbed 'conversation officers' by one local wag.

Actually, there wasn't much the conservation officers could do. "Once bears become habituated to an area, they always come back," say Dwyer. "It's a means of survival. A bear never forgets where it finds food." The town of Cumberland made it easy with its tempting rows of garbage. The only solution is a final one.

At least 19 destroyed

Last year, 19 bears in Cumberland were officially destroyed (some sources estimate up to 48 bears killed).

"It's disturbing the number of bears that had to be destroyed," says Dwyer. "No conservation officer likes to see animals killed, but it becomes an issue of public safety."

Dwyer says that many of the bears were in 'poor condition' with broken teeth and scaring usually associated with dump bears and therefore not candidates for relocation.

Last year, an electric fence was installed around the local dump. "Landfill sites become a sinkhole for bears," says Dwyer. "Some bears have lived there for generations."

Four dump bears were tagged before the fence went up. One tagged bear was destroyed -so it is inconclusive whether most of the bears destroyed were dump bears or hungry wild bears. This year, Cumberland residents have been encouraged to take preventive action through Bear Aware, an educational program designed to prevent and reduce conflicts between people and bears.

Ken McLure is the village of Cumberland's manager of protective services and its Bear Aware officer. His appointment is through the provincial ministry of Water, Land and Air Protection and BC Conservation Foundation.

McLure has installed four big bear-proof dumpsters where residents can put their garbage and rotten fruit if they don't have a bear-proof storage area. McLure says he is amazed at how well people have responded to the program. "The dumpsters are full of rotten fruit. People here are buying into the program. People have changed the way they store their garbage. They have done a wonderful job."

People have also been trained in how to prune trees -to reduce fruit production (which seems counterintuitive) and fruit is also being collected by a volunteer force for the local food bank. McLure has also initiated a shorter garbage pick up day-eight am until noon-to reduce the time garbage is at the curb. No longer are residents placing their garbage out the night before pick up, they wait until morning.

Bears gone missing

This year has seen plenty of rain and produced a bumper berry crop. So why no bears spotted yet in Cumberland this fall?

Is it because people here have become expertly bear aware? Or is it that with so many bears killed last year, the bears aren't there?

"Oh, the bears are there," says McLure. "I see bears all over the back country, they just aren't coming into the community."

"Have the bears disappeared because so many were destroyed last year? That's an interesting question," said Dwyer. "I'm not sure it can be answered conclusively. These things [bear encroachment into urban areas] come in cycles depending on things such as rainfall."

I decided to do be my own best cub reporter heading up into the high country around Cumberland on my mountain bike.

I hung out in a clearcut for a long time (sadly Cumberland is surrounded by them). Older clearcuts often create spaces for berries to grow and black bears will frequent them.

No bears.

I spent time in the forest canopy and down by the Puntledge River and several creeks.

No bears.

I go into town and ask at Dodge City Cycles and the Riding Fool Hostel the hq and sleeping barracks respectively for the mountain biking masses. Have any bikers seen bears while peddling up in the high country?

No bears.

The bears are there?

"The bears will come," says a friend.

I'll let you know.

Grant Shilling is the author of The Cedar Surf: An Informal History of Surfing in British Columbia.