Earlier this month, while leading my Ultimate Brown Bears of Alaska workshop, I had the privilege of witnessing one of those unforgettable moments that remind you just how exceptional wildlife photography can be.
We were sitting quietly along the river's edge, giving the bears plenty of space and observing respectfully, when a curious Coastal Brown Bear cub took a keen interest in us. It was fascinating to watch as it cautiously crept a little closer—eyes wide—clearly trying to figure out what we were.
Just a few metres away, Mom was observing the situation with a mix of patience and purpose. She kept a close eye on her cub while simultaneously teaching it a vital life lesson: curiosity is fine—but know your limits. When she gave a subtle signal (a soft huff), the cub instantly responded and scampered back to her side. It was a beautiful display of both natural behaviour and strong maternal instinct.
I managed to capture a few frames of that moment using the Sony 50–150mm at 148mm, shooting vertically to emphasize the cub's upright posture and attentiveness.
Did You Know?
One little-known fact about brown bear behaviour is that cubs often learn by mimicking their mother's every move—from how to fish, to how to interact with other bears, and even how to assess potential threats (like humans). These lessons are learned through observation, subtle communication, and, at times, gentle correction. It's an incredible process to witness in the wild.
Moments like these serve as a powerful reminder of the importance of observing wildlife ethically and with care. When we respect their space, we are often rewarded with authentic glimpses into their world.
Off the Trail: Stories from Jr. of Kodiak Harbour
Sometimes, the most memorable encounters during a wildlife photography trip don't involve wildlife at all—but the people you meet along the way.
While wandering through the working harbour of Kodiak, Alaska, I met a character I won't soon forget: Jr.
From the moment we crossed paths on the deck of a well-worn fishing vessel, it was clear that Jr. had seen a thing or two. He gave me a quick once-over, then, with a half-smile and a pointed finger, offered a firm, gruff warning: "Just don't point that camera at me." Fair enough.
But as it turns out, Jr. wasn't camera-shy—just particular. As we got talking, he relaxed, and what followed was nearly an hour of rich, animated storytelling. He told me about every bear he'd ever seen near his home at the southern end of Kodiak Island, recounting encounters in vivid detail—some hair-raising, some oddly funny, and all deeply personal.
His voice rose and fell with the rhythm of the ocean, and the stories flowed like the tide. In that moment, Jr. wasn't just a fisherman on a break—he was a storyteller, a steward of local lore, and someone who clearly carried deep respect for the wild places around him.
While he spoke, I carefully moved around the deck, framing a few quiet portraits as he stood in front of the coiled fishing net near the stern. I was drawn to the circular pattern in the orange fishing floats beside him—a visual echo of the rhythm in his storytelling. It added a beautiful compositional element to the scene, and the resulting images feel less like posed portraits and more like moments borrowed from real life.
After the stories wound down, I thanked Jr. for the time, the conversation, and the unexpected glimpse into Kodiak life beyond the trail. As I stepped off the boat and back onto the dock, I offered one last nod: "Calm seas and full nets, my friend."
Behind the Frame:
These off-the-cuff portraits are some of my favourites—not just for the composition, but for the experience that led to them. Photography, after all, isn't always about chasing subjects. Sometimes, it's about listening long enough for a story to reveal itself.