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The presence of grizzly
bears, like Mali pictured here, along the scattering of islands
in British Columbia's Broughton archipelago has become a cause
of concern for locals and conservation officers.
Photograph: Suzie Hall
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When a bear starts feeding off garbage and loses its fear of humans
it is quickly shot but an unlikely conservation partnership may
be setting a different path
In early April, a young grizzly bear swam through the chilly waters
off the western coast of Canada in search of food.
He came ashore on Hanson Island, one of more than 200 rocky outcrops
in British Columbia's Broughton archipelago, and quickly started
eating garbage from a cabin.
It was a dangerous move: bears that get too comfortable eating
food waste and start to lose their fear of humans are quickly shot.
But this bear's death was averted through an unlikely partnership
between local Indigenous groups and conservation officers, raising
hopes of a more holistic approach to wildlife management with greater
Indigenous input.
In recent years, the presence of bears along the scattering of
islands has become a cause of concern for locals and conservation
officers.
Typically, after months of hibernation, grizzlies in the region
will hunt for clams and mussels. But this bear smelled something
better and easier: garbage.
Locals named it Mali, in honour of the Mamalilikulla First Nation
whose traditional territory encompasses the collection of islands.
And as Mali continued to forage for food scraps, conservation officials
took notice.
The province has a long and often fraught relationship with grizzly
bears. Until 2017, trophy hunting was permitted in the province
a deeply divisive practice that had lost public support in
previous years. As many as 250 bears, from a population of 15,000,
were killed annually.
The practice
has also divided First Nations: many had provided guiding services
for hunters and benefited from the hunt, but other Indigenous communities
have grown frustrated with the speed with which conservation officers
shoot problem bears.
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Mali is airlifted to
an undisclosed location on the province's mainland.
Photograph: Suzie Hall
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In January, a male grizzly named Gatu appeared in a neighbouring
community on the northern tip of Vancouver Island. He became too
comfortable around humans. First Nations pleaded with conservation
officers to come up with a proactive approach.
But their request "just fell on deaf ears" and the bear was shot
and killed, said Mike Willie, a wildlife guide and hereditary chief
of the Kwikwasut'inuxw Nation.
As elsewhere, conservation officers in British Columbia have long
taken the view that a habituated bear one that has lost its
fear of humans and is comfortable rummaging for food in urban areas
is effectively a dead bear walking.
But when a local guide showed him footage of the new grizzly, Willie
hoped this time might be different. Working together and with the
non-profit Grizzly Bear Foundation, local First Nations hatched
a plan to trap the bear and transport him by helicopter.
"We don't want our bears killed any more. We have the right to
govern within our own traditional territories and we have inherent
rights and we have title," said Willie.
Conservation officers were initially set on killing the bear, leading
to a brief standoff between the two groups. Soon, the province's
environment minister was weighing in, asking all involved to consider
a different, non-lethal approach.
"Once everything settled down, the conservation officers switched
from a kill plan to a relocation plan. And it was amazing really
to see them in action," said Nicholas Scapillati, head of the foundation.
"They became very caring about how they could trap this bear and
relocate him safely."
On 13 April, Mali was successfully captured alive and moved to
an undisclosed location on the province's mainland.
"Within minutes of waking up, he wasn't eating garbage. Now he's
in a remote, beautiful estuary, eating sage grass, which is what
he should have been doing," said Scapillati.
The province's minister of environment, George Heyman, praised
the result, saying the "desire for reconciliation" with Indigenous
peoples helped guide the process.
While the bear's life was saved, locals worry that diminishing
food sources, including a decline
in salmon, could prompt more bears to make the journey.
But for Willie, the success with Mali marks a critical first step
in changing what he sees as outdated views of conservation.
"It feels that this could be a blueprint to move forward
for us and for other First Nations on the coast," he said. "It was
a really good ending."
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