Here we have an encounter between a kayaker and a bear. It is an encounter that quickly devolves from tense to hysterical, which is what happens when those who may take the harsh realities of nature for granted are confronted by those who do not.

Our kayaker begins by trying to ward the bear off with her bear mace, a tactic that backfires spectacularly when the bear turns its attention toward her only mode of transportation.

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“Bear! Bear! Bear! You’re breaking it, you’re breaking my kayak! Why are you breaking my kayak! WHY ARE YOU BREAKING MY KAYAK! WHAT AM I GONNA DO?!” the woman screams.

The bear continues breaking the kayak.

The woman, now sobbing, goes on pleading: “Gosh darn it! Why are you doing that? Bear please stop! Please stop, bear!”

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“Bear! Bear! Stop that! Bear, stop that!”

Useless.

Words and tears are the weapons of those who expect reason and sympathy. We can offer those things to the kayaker, and we can feel bad about the fact that she had to swim her way to safety after losing her kayak to the jaws of the bear:

This video is taken 5 minutes after the attack began, he continued to gnaw on it for another 5 or 10 after the video ends. Shortly after the bear left and I drug the kayak back to the cabin door step. Then I swam to the S/V anchored in the bay. They did not have their radio on and I feared I would be stranded! The German flagged S/v Caledonia took me and my things to Wrangell where I am trying to repair my kayak now.

But we cannot blame the bear, whose world is governed by strength, not sympathy. Our kayaks don’t belong there, and neither do our tears.