Recently arrived in Canada from England and on the road In May 1967 as newly minted landed immigrants, having some weeks prior disembarked in Montreal from the Russian passenger liner Aleksandr Pushkin my wife and I were innocents abroad so to speak. We were headed west to Vancouver and planning on taking a leisurely five weeks to do so. We had brought a new car with us, an Austin 1100 sold in Canada as the Austin America.* Fully exposed to the elements and extremely well lashed down on the ship’s foredeck, the car was windswept, salt spray pummeled and encrusted by the North Atlantic’s full on and incessant westerly gales. This not to mention having had the associated monstrous and roiling seas on the ‘nose’ for five of the seven days we spent making the 3,300 nautical mile crossing from the port of Tilbury in central London on the River Thames. The other two days by comparison we were proceeding upstream in the shelter and pleasant tranquility of the St. Lawrence River.
At 22,000 GT (Gross Tonnage) the ship was relatively small by today’s passenger ship standards where 100,000 GT and up is commonplace. She of course had stabilizers to limit rolling however the held back potential energy they harnessed seemed to translate into and be dissipated by excessive pitching. She would climb up the steep waves whilst moving at speed (she could do up to 20 knots) and the stern would of course simultaneously crash down very rapidly. Standing at the stern on the open upper deck, it felt momentarily like being weightless or close to negative G as the stern quickly dropped from under our feet followed shortly by a significant positive G force as the bow crashed down and the stern quickly came up again. We found it quite fun.
About three weeks into the cross Canada leg of our 10,000 kms plus westward sea and land sojourn (about one-third of the earth’s circumference!) we found ourselves in Manning Park a British Columbia provincial park about 150 kms east from Vancouver and 4,500 kms west from Montreal. With a limited budget and after visiting EXPO 67 a few times, we had camped and pup tented from Montreal and would continue to do so until we had reached Vancouver where we planned to settle.
Multiple times as we ignited, invariably with some difficulty, our aged kerosene fueled Primus ** stove to cook whatever (I still have it 53 years later making it true vintage i.e. over 50) people would approach, look askance and say ‘you guys must be English’. Of course the small hatchback car, slightly bigger than the original Mini, was also a bit of a dead give away equipped as it was with UK export plates. From the get go in Montreal, looking at the vehicle people would also say with incredulity ‘you are driving to Vancouver in THAT?’ We and it made it but the latter only just.
Incidentally, I don’t recall if the term ‘hatchback’ was new in North American auto terminology in 1967 but it did cause a hiccup clearing customs. The officer asked me how many doors the car had. With the car still on the ship waiting to be unloaded, in all honesty I told him. Three. This caused him to go into what I can only describe as mild to severe conniptions. In retrospect, to give him the benefit of the doubt, I think he thought I was taking the mickey with him and/or trying to be clever in some other way. Of course there were three doors. Two at the front and one at the back. I did describe it as a hatchback and he did clear us nonetheless. We soon discovered that he was atypical of Canadians given the warm polite welcome we otherwise encountered from all and sundry in Montreal, throughout the province of Quebec and clear across the county proving to no surprise, to be the norm.
Manning Park has many campsites which is just as well as it was and is a popular destination. May being early in the camping season and the mountain park being at an altitude of about 1200 metres (3900 feet) and therefore quite cold at night, we had no problem securing a site. While we were pitching the tent, we had a visit from a large black bear.
Unbeknownst to us at the time, although rare, grizzlies have also been sighted in Manning Park however black bears are very common. From a distance we had seen quite a few black bears as we crossed the country. It was no surprise then to have one saunter onto our campsite. I grabbed my camera.
Now for the idiotic part. I did say we were literally just off the boat. I decided to take a photograph of my wife with the bear in the same frame, off to one side and not far behind her. It was some distance behind her and in no hurry to move so I the encouraged her to move closer to the bear. Oy Vay! Eventually I had a couple of shots I hoped would pan out. This was of course in the days of film. We are spoiled with digital and it’s instant gratification and easy confirmation of acceptable shots these days.
The bear soon took off. We had dinner, chatted around a camp fire with some other campers who were bemused with our tiny two person pup or ‘mountain tent’ and our compact and then some car. We crawled into our down sleeping bags and after a long day on the road we were soon asleep. We were awakened some time in the night having sensed then heard something moving about very close to the tent. We did know enough to have kept all our food in the car even so, hopefully it was not a bear. A squirrel perhaps, maybe a fox or raccoon. Were we still in the UK, a puppy Westie terrier *** tail wagging and eager to lick us to death would be about as scary as it got on a public camp ground. I peeped out through the entrance flaps. In the moonlight was a large black bear, perhaps the one from earlier. It was about ten feet from the tent entrance and seemingly ‘parked’. It did not appear to be going anywhere any time soon.
Black bear as opposed to Grizzly notwithstanding, we did not feel comfortable with a bear of any lineage between us and the car least of all deep into the night. I slowly opened the tent entrance flaps and quickly closed them again. The bear had moved to within about three feet of us. We could not exit without almost embracing the animal. Now with pulses racing we were highly motivated to say the least to act quickly. We figured on exiting via the rear of the tent which was only about two and a half feet high the front entrance height being about five feet. I did say it was a ‘mountain tent’ — tiny, streamlined for minimum wind resistance and light weight.
One of us and I cannot remember which, this was a very long time ago, suddenly thought of a key factor to consider. Unlike earlier tents we had owned the rubberised groundsheet was sewn in and there were no exit flaps. There was no rear entrance as such and short of a sharp-knife centric solution, thereby no exit. We were trapped by the bear period. What to do?
We quickly realised we did not in fact have a knife in the tent nor in any pockets. Certainly we felt well and truly trapped. What if the bear just decided to tear down the tent and come after us? What if it just stayed put for hours? Perhaps it would go to sleep. If we had a copy, what would the Bears 101 text suggest? I took another peep out front. The bear had moved. About one foot. I thought of making a loud noise. Perhaps shouting in a broad Yorkshire accent would spook it? I’m a singer perhaps I could sing the Teddy Bears’ Picnic and with luck he or she might go looking for it.
We decided to just be quiet and wait the bear out. It did not look under nourished. About every five minutes or so we took a peep. After about thirty minutes it was gone. We decided to stay put and simply go to sleep. If the bear had wanted to eat us we felt, it would have already done so. We never saw it again nor any others while we were in Manning Park. We slept surprisingly well and we never again entered let alone camped, in bear country without bear spray and a knife to hand, both inside and out of tents.
* See my story ‘Austin 1100’ for an amusing and arguably compelling perspective on a small English north country town salesman’s approach to selling a new car knowing the buyers are about to leave the country with it! To see a short and fabulous piece of comedy see John Cleese physically beating an incalcitrant Austin 1100. Just search Basil Attacks His Car/ Fawlty Towers. Satisfaction guaranteed.
** The following on Primus stoves courtesy of Wikipedia.
The firm of Primus was founded in 1892 by Frans Wilhelm Lindqvist and Johan Viktor Svenson. They were the developers of its initial product, the Primus stove, the first portable and soot-free kerosene stove.
The first units were sold mainly to women who operated street market shops (stallholders) in Stockholm. Explorers then discovered the value in having a portable stove for their expeditions. For example, on Salomon August Andrée’s 1897 North Pole expedition, he cooked on a Primus. Roald Amundsen carried a Primus stove with him on his venture to the South Pole in 1911. And in 1953, Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay relied on Primus stoves during their first ascent of Mount Everest.
Today Primus stoves and lanterns are sold in over 70 countries. The stoves are made in Primus’ factory in Tartu, Estonia.
*** See my story Westie.
Here is a photo of the original Primus stove and an art print. My stove, which I still have (New in the 1960’s) is not much different.
