The Shore Boar

Hunting by boat, the author makes a hairy landing and an unexpectedly tough stalk to tag a big Alaska black bear.

- David Draper

“GET OUT.” That’s the only thing Brandon Hart says as the nose of the rubber Zodiac slams against the face of a boulder the size of a pole barn. Before I can protest, he cuts me off. “Get the #$%& out!”

I sling the rifle over my shoulder, wait for an incoming wave to lift the bouncing boat higher, and jump. Somehow my fingernails find purchase on the sea-battered stone and with some scrambling, I manage to save myself from a swim in the Gulf of Alaska.

To be fair, Hart put the boat right where I’d asked him to, just around the point from a big black bear that is right now snuffling through the detritus of a high-tide line on the rock-strewn beach. But here, straddling the boulder with the crashing surf on one side and a Brobdingnagian blowdown on the other, I am stuck.

BEARS BY BOAT

I’d spotted the bear from the deck of the Sundy, anchored less than 1,000 yards away off the southwest coast of the Kenai Peninsula. The 50-foot Delta Marine is the base of operations for the week, serving as both mobile hunting cabin and glassing platform. My friends and I have spent hours scanning the shore, as well as the mountains that rise almost vertically from the waterline. The plan is simple: Whoever spots a bear gets to go stalk it—while an audience of his hunting buddies watches from the boat.