Polar Bear Encounters: Cultural Immersion with Manitoba's Indigenous Guides in Churchill

When planning my Churchill adventure, I deliberately sought out Indigenous-led tours rather than standard commercial expeditions. This decision made all the difference. Companies like Wapusk Adventures and Sea North Tours offer experiences guided by local Cree and Dene knowledge keepers who share not just wildlife expertise, but generations of cultural wisdom about the land.

What struck me immediately was how these tours approach wildlife viewing through a lens of respect rather than entertainment. Our guide Joseph explained that in traditional Indigenous worldviews, animals are regarded as teachers and relations—not attractions. This perspective completely transformed how I experienced each bear sighting.

Before heading out, I invested in a quality thermal base layer which proved essential for staying comfortable during long hours on the tundra. Churchill's fall temperatures can drop well below freezing, especially with wind chill coming off Hudson Bay.

Churchill itself is a fascinating study in cultural harmony. With a population of just under 900 people, this remote community brings together Cree, Dene, Inuit, and settler Canadian cultures in a unique subarctic melting pot. During my week-long stay, I made a point of spending time at the Itsanitaq Museum (formerly known as the Eskimo Museum), which houses one of Canada's finest collections of Inuit carvings and artifacts.

The town operates on polar bear time during autumn, with daily bear alerts and a special patrol that safely relocates bears who wander too close to human settlements. I found myself checking the local Facebook group each morning for bear sightings—it's as routine for locals as checking traffic reports is for city dwellers!

For accommodations, I stayed at the family-run Polar Inn, which offers simple but comfortable rooms with northern hospitality. The walls are thin, so I was glad I brought my white noise machine to ensure sound sleep after long days on the tundra.

As a speech therapist, I'm naturally drawn to language and communication in all its forms. What fascinated me most about my time with Indigenous guides was learning how their languages contain sophisticated ecological knowledge embedded within everyday vocabulary. Words for different types of snow, ice conditions, and animal behaviors reveal a profound understanding of the environment that English simply cannot capture.

Our guide taught us basic Cree greetings and phrases, explaining how the language connects speakers to the land in ways that shape perception and relationship. When he described polar bears using the Cree term maskwa wâpiskisiw (white bear), he explained that traditional stories position bears not as fearsome predators but as wise teachers who demonstrate survival skills.

During evening cultural programs, elders shared traditional stories that have been used for generations to transmit important knowledge about safely coexisting with wildlife. I recorded these sessions using my digital voice recorder to revisit later—with permission, of course. The clarity of the recordings allowed me to catch nuances I missed in the moment.

What truly sets Indigenous-led polar bear tours apart is their commitment to minimal environmental impact. Unlike some commercial operations that prioritize getting as close as possible to bears for photos, our guides emphasized maintaining respectful distances and understanding bear behavior through observation.

We traveled primarily in specially designed tundra buggies that move slowly across the landscape on designated trails to minimize habitat disruption. When we did spot bears, our guides used traditional tracking knowledge to anticipate their movements, positioning us thoughtfully rather than pursuing the animals.

For wildlife viewing, a good pair of thermal gloves is essential—these allow you to operate camera equipment while keeping your hands warm in the biting cold. I also found my insulated water bottle invaluable for keeping tea hot throughout the day, which is more than just a comfort when temperatures hover around freezing.

The guides taught us to read subtle body language signals from the bears, explaining how a seemingly minor shift in ear position or stance can indicate whether an animal is relaxed, curious, or becoming stressed by human presence. This knowledge not only enhances safety but deepens appreciation for these magnificent creatures on their own terms.

Some of my most meaningful cultural exchanges happened not on the tundra but around dinner tables in Churchill. Many Indigenous-led tours include traditional meals as part of the experience, offering visitors a taste of local foodways and the stories behind them.

One evening, we participated in a country food dinner featuring locally harvested fish, game, and foraged plants. Our hosts explained how traditional hunting and gathering practices are sustainable by nature, taking only what's needed and using every part of what's harvested. The bannock (a type of quick bread) we helped prepare became a vehicle for conversations about colonization, resilience, and food sovereignty in northern communities.

I was particularly moved when an elder explained how sharing food is considered a form of medicine in many Indigenous cultures—nourishing not just bodies but relationships and community bonds. For families traveling together, these shared meal experiences create natural opportunities for children to engage with different cultural perspectives through the universal language of food.

After returning home, I've continued exploring northern Indigenous cuisines using the cookbook recommended by one of our guides.