RESOLUTE BAY, NUNAVUT — The rules of engagement are simple: The trophy must be male and at least 2.4 metres tall.
And since March, big-game hunters, mainly Americans, clad head to toe in caribou-skin outfits and riding dogsleds, have been on the hunt in Canada's Arctic for one of the most controversial animals on the planet: polar bears.
In this male-dominated, high-priced world, where Inuit-guided hunts can run more than $40,000 (U.S.), bigger is better, right down to the animal's baculum, or penis bone.
But this year, the stakes to bag the iconic predator before the annual season ends next month are at an all-time high because these hunters are also being hunted.
American sporthunters, Mark Beeler, 49, and Allyn Ladd, 33, pose with a freshly killed polar bear taken by a local Inuk hunter. (Patrick Kane for The Globe and Mail)
By the numbers
22,000-25,000: Approximate number of the world’s polar bears
16,000: Approximate number of polar bears in Canada
13: Polar bear populations in Canada, 12 of which are in Nunavut
468: Number of polar bears allowed to be killed in Nunavut in 2007-08
120: Number of bears killed in Nunavut by sports hunters in 2006-07
330: Number killed by subsistence hunters in 2006-07
Sources: Nunavut government, Northwest Territories government, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Canadian government
Amid concerns that climate change is threatening Arctic sea ice – the polar bears' main habitat – a U.S. government agency is considering listing the bears as a threatened species under its Endangered Species Act. The decision, which was originally to be announced on Jan. 9, is imminent, according to a government spokesperson.
If the recommendation is adopted, it would likely lead to a ban on the importation of polar bear trophies to the United States.
Without the trophies, hunters from the United States will largely stay home, killing off a lucrative sports-hunting industry that, over the years, has pumped millions of dollars into such struggling Arctic communities as Resolute Bay. Canada is the only country where sport hunting for polar bears is still legal.
Some U.S. hunters were so afraid they wouldn't be able to export their pelt if a decision was made this spring that they cancelled their trips. Many lost deposits as high as $5,000.
But because of waiting lists stretching into 2011, outfitters were able to fill those spots.
“All of the hunters who have been around for years and years told me that if I wanted one, I got to get in now,” said Allyn Ladd, 33, a bow hunter and unemployed dentist from Alaska, during an interview at Resolute Bay's co-op hotel.
He's concerned that even if the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service decides against listing the massive animal as threatened, it's only a matter of time before the hunt is shut down for good by either the federal or territorial governments.
Located 600 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle, Resolute Bay, a mainly Inuit community of 250, is the farthest north in Canada that commercial airlines fly. Passengers are greeted in the tiny airport's lobby by a stuffed polar bear that was shot by Nathaniel Kattuk, a local Inuk outfitter.
Like many other hunters who made the trek north of the 60th parallel, Mr. Ladd has dreamed of killing a polar bear since childhood. “As a kid you have dreams,” the Arkansas native said in a slow accent. “One thing I've made a point in my life is to chase dreams.”
On Day 2 of his hunt this month, Mr. Ladd shot a 9-foot-6 polar bear from about 30 metres. “I was trying to get as close as I could, just to get better video,” he said.
By law, sports hunters have to be accompanied by an Inuit guide. The guide, who can tell the size of a bear by the width of its pawprint, helps track them down on the sea ice. As daylight fades, the bears become easier to locate because their white fur appears almost brown due to the shadows. Once a bear has been “glassed” – hunter-speak for spotted – the sled dogs are released to surround and distract the animal so the hunter can get closer to take the perfect shot.
Most aim for the lungs. By the hunter's side is the guide, holding a rifle just in case their shot is off. The animal is then skinned, with the meat turned over to the local community.
Some hunters do it for the glory, with a few paying for camera crews to shoot the feat and the animal's final seconds.
Some are here for the thrill of the kill. “It's a super adrenalin rush. It's incredible,” said Mark Beeler, a 49-year-old bow hunter from Milwaukee, Wis. “A polar bear is almost mysterious. Before this, I'd only ever seen a polar bear at the zoo.”
Others are trying to complete a hunting hit list. There are several, including the North American Grand Slam (hunters must bag 28 big-game animals from across the continent) and the prestigious Safari Club International 29 – a list of 29 North American predators and ungulate animals.
Since Ted Stallings was 18, the now 50-year-old businessman from Clovis, N.M., has been aiming to top that latter list by harvesting 31 hard-to-get-animals from across North America with two extras of his own: the now-impossible to hunt walrus and jaguar.
Earlier this month, the married father of two flew to Grise Fiord, an Inuit hamlet of about 150 people and the most northerly community in Canada, with his .416 Kleingunther rifle – “I like big guns,” he acknowledged – to help complete his collection.
It was his second attempt at harvesting a bear, and he estimates both hunts will likely cost a whopping $100,000 (U.S). “The polar bear has been the one that's been a real challenge,” said Mr. Stallings, who owns a helicopter and aviation services company.
Now that Mr. Stallings has finally got his bear, he's worried that it may never be displayed in his game room. It takes more than nine months to import a polar bear trophy into the U.S., and a decision by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to list the animal may derail or throw out his permit application.
He said “the antis” – a nickname hunters have for anti-hunters – are pressuring the American government into making a call that will have far-reaching and negative implications for several job-starved Arctic communities. “I bet you most of the people who want to shut this down have never even been to the Arctic,” he said.
While the future of the polar bear is a hot topic in the United States, it's also fiercely debated in Canada, with the predator becoming symbolic of animal rights and climate change.
Scientists and Inuit disagree over the health of polar bear populations and whether the loss of sea ice is contributing to their demise. Canada is home to two-thirds of the world's 22,000-25,000 polar bears. This month, the World Wildlife Fund warned that some of Canada's polar bear populations could be wiped out by 2050 because of declining sea ice and overhunting.
Caught in the middle are people like Mr. Kattuk, who owns Nanuk Outfitting Ltd. with his wife Martha in Resolute Bay.
“I hope they still come,” the 55-year-old Inuk said when asked whether hunters from the United States will still hire him if they can't bring their pelts home.
Outside the kitchen window of his small, bright blue home, a spring snowstorm rages. The soft-spoken father of four, who employs five local guides, said the Nunavut government and local hunters and trappers organizations are equally concerned about polar-bear conservation, and that the kill would happen – with or without the sport hunters.
“If there are too many of them, there will be problems,” he said. “If there are too few, there will be problems.”
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