In the company of wolves: animal encounters in Narvik, Norway
Wolf at the door … Polar Park promises visitors an up-close-and-personal experience with its own pack. All photographs by Kevin Rushby
After years of persecution, wolves are howling anew across Europe –
and in the north of Norway an unusual zoo park is bringing them
face-to-face with their nemesis: us
Kevin Rushby
I
arrive after dark, driving past piled up snow and pull up by a darkened
log cabin office. No one comes out. I turn off the car lights and step
into the freezing air. As my eyes adjust to the Arctic night, I see a
green glow in the western sky, at first just two smudges on either side
of the valley, a cosmic reptilian blush that grows into a phosphorescent
super-highway that vaults across the snow-capped peaks. It is my 10th
wintertime visit to the Arctic and, at last, I’ve seen the aurora.
At that moment a 4x4 comes up the road driven by my contact, Stig.
“Follow me in your car,” he says softly. “At the top, when we get out,
don’t make sudden movements or noises.”
Kevin’s first sighting of the aurora came at Polar Park.
The snowploughed track leads between two very high fences trimmed
with an electric wire. I chuckle to myself, thinking: “This is Jurassic
Park – with snow.” I leave the car by a gate in the wire beyond which a
tunnel leads up to a brightly lit lodge on a small snowy hill. The
purpose of that tunnel, I know, is to access the lodge without the
inhabitants of the enclosure accessing me. Then the howling starts: a
long eerie cry that reaches deep into lost primordial corners of the
mind, evoking shivers of excitement. An answering howl makes Stig frown.
“Sometimes I think there are more of them out there, not only ours.”
We are at Polar Park, a 110-hectare zoo, 70km north of the Norwegian
town of Narvik. Polar Park is not like most other zoos: there are very
few animals and they live in large enclosures. And they have a programme
to accustom wolves to people, sufficient to allow meetings. That is why
I am here: to stay a night inside the wolf enclosure and, with the
consent of the Norse gods, make contact. I say “consent” advisedly:
there is a sense of provisionality about it, no matter the eye-watering
expense of the experience. As your grandmother might have mentioned,
wolves are not to be relied upon.
Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? … not Kevin Rushby, not really
Once we are inside the plush mountain lodge, peering out of the large
picture windows, Stig explains. “We have to be very slow and steady.
You can’t put energy into the wolf, they become unpredictable. We don’t
allow under-18s to meet them or pregnant women. You can’t wear fur,
down, gloves, hats or earrings. If they knock you over, you keep calm
and wait for the keepers to move them away.”
Out in the darkness we hear a sudden, rather vicious, wolf fight.
“There are five of them, all siblings, and they are just working out the
hierarchy. We don’t interfere.”
We eat dinner and then stand by an open door, watching the aurora
roll and flicker. Occasionally, silhouetted against it, are the swift
shadows of running wolves.
Teeth encounter … they just want to play
The wolf is making something of a comeback in Europe. By the end of
the last century, the remnants of a once-great population were holed up
in northern Italy on the edge of extinction.
But then something changed. Declining rural human populations led to
increased forest cover and deer numbers. In 1994, a pack was found in
France’s Alpes-Maritimes and the animal has since recolonised 16 other
departments, edging to within 60 miles of Paris. In 2015 one was spotted
in Holland, probably the first since 1897. With the resurgence has come
realisation that the wolf’s presence, like the beaver, can bring a
cascade of biodiversity and environmental health. It has also,
predictably, brought a cascade of fear and loathing, based on knowledge
garnered from fairy tales. The Daily Mail reported that Dutch wolf with
the headline: “The wolf’s at the door: First killer beast turns up in Holland for 150 years”.
Videos showed a rattled animal trying to escape back to Germany within
hours of crossing the border. In fact, as Stig said: “When wolves see
people, they normally run away. They are frightened.”
Just chillin’… reindeer wonder (or lie around) freely at Polar Park
Next morning I am trying to keep that in mind when we venture out and
spot the pack loping eagerly towards us. They jump up excitedly and
lick our faces. Two of them have a snarling stand-off over who should
lick me first, but then decide to lick my camera instead. Apart from
that one moment, it’s all remarkably non-threatening. We stroll to a low
snow-covered hill where they do a bit of a howl and hold a wrestling
contest. Only when I drop my phone is there a sudden intimation of what
can happen. They are instantly curious and pushy, flooded with predatory
instincts. Moving slowly, I retrieve it. Stig casually mentions that
they always show plenty of interest in anyone who is sick, limping or
weak. It’s that predatory nature, combined with the power of the pack,
that earns our respect, and fear.
A wintry mid-afternoon sunset over Dyrøya island
Later we walk around the other enclosures, seeing lynx, musk ox,
moose and Arctic fox. The bears are in hibernation, appearing
occasionally for snacks; the reindeer just wander freely. Polar Park is a
zoo although much more pleasant than most. Nevertheless, predators
don’t take incarceration easily, no matter how benign, and I drive away
wondering about the ethics of it. The initial feeling of a Jurassic Park
resonates: the sense of humans attempting to control, for profit, part
of nature that is inherently uncontrollable. Nevertheless, the wolf
encounter does bring a much-needed jolt of reality to the issue of the
animal’s resurgence: these wolves are certainly not cuddly toys, nor are
they monster killer beasts.
In the end, however, any animal glimpsed in the wild is more interesting
than one cooped up. I join Oddgeir Sagerup, a local photographer and
his expatriate Scottish colleague, Cameron, on a wildlife safari 90
minutes’ drive away on Dyrøya island. There is little chance of seeing
one of Norway’s three known wolfpacks: they all stay away from the
inhabited coast. But with Oddgeir’s informal network of contacts
helping, we soon locate moose browsing in a river bed and sea eagles
soaring overhead. Then, on a local farm, miles from anywhere, we jump
aboard a sledge pulled by a snow scooter and head off for a madcap
adventure into the forest that ends with us buried, laughing, in a snow
drift, watched by three rather startled moose. I was rather relieved
they weren’t wolves.
Way to go
The trip was provided by Visit Norway. Polar Park
wolf encounters cost £125pp (adults only), park entrance £20pp (family
£53); overnight in the lodge with wolf meeting, dinner and breakfast is
£830 for two. See and Explore trips with Oddgeir Sagerup from £116 adult, £70 child. Flights provided by SAS, which flies to Narvik Evenes, via Oslo, from London, Manchester, Edinburgh and Aberdeen, £102 one way
Kevin’s first sighting of the aurora came at Polar Park.
Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? … not Kevin Rushby, not really
A wintry mid-afternoon sunset over Dyrøya island
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