Tim Irvin on the profusion of life in a rainforest and why he guides
We spoke with Tim, an ecologist and guide, about how it felt to witness his first herring spawn and he shared his thoughts on the ethics of wildlife guiding.
Tim Irvin is an ecologist and professional guide. While he lives in Ontario, his guides take him and his guests across Canada, from the polar regions of Manitoba to the coast of the Great Bear Rainforest in BC. He is an avid photographer and passionate about ethical guiding.
You live in Ontario, what drew you to BC?
Grizzly camp! (And, I fell in love with the rainforest!) I was doing lynx and bird research in Barrie and my friend had told me to apply for grizzly camp on the coast of BC. So, I went, became a guide, and then stayed. But I eventually went back to Ontario, and I had a really hard time figuring out what to do with myself there (in Ottawa). At the time, it was 2009 and nobody was really hiring. The only jobs I could find were paper-pushing desk jobs (Ottawa is full of them) and I was more of a field guide. Eventually, I thought, “Maybe I’ll start this side business guiding for spirit bears.”
I never expected it would be my full-time business. It’s been 20 years, and I still wonder how it all happened.
What made you fall in love with the rainforest?
As a biologist, you’re drawn to the areas where there is a profusion of life. The coastal rainforest of BC is a small area geographically, but it punches above its weight in terms of the abundance of life there. Where I live (in Ontario), if you see an eagle it’s a big deal. Around a salmon run, there could be 50 eagles in one tree. There’s so much going on in the coastal rainforest: grizzly over there, whale jumping over there. Then you discover the intertidal world and think, “Look at all those things!” Part of that is the ocean but it’s about the magnificence of the mountains, too. I grew up around the Great Lakes, which are beautiful, but they’re quiet compared to the ocean.
How did you get into guiding for spirit bears, specifically?
I got to know the spirit bear guide while I was working at grizzly camp (Marvin Robinson). Interacting with him was always a big highlight for me. We’d go on weekly sailboat trips with him guiding, and usually, one of those days was spent looking for bears.
The season’s really short, but for spirit bears, we top out at 100 people a year. It grew really fast because we tapped into something people wanted. The spirit bears are a bucket-list item for most people because they’re incredibly rare. And, we seem to have created a really safe, ethical, and meaningful way for our guests to access them.
Who is Marvin?
Marvin is my collaborator and an amazing mariner and storyteller! He’s from the Gitga’at First Nation and he’s the spirit bear whisperer: If you’re coming to see a spirit bear in that territory, he’s the point man. He owns the guest house and boats that we make use of, and he’s the local knowledge keeper. I’m the ecologist and I bring all the clients and take care of the admin side of things. Marvin and his guides have incredible, local Indigenous knowledge and I come with a local, ecologist’s perspective. We all bring something to the relationship and it works really well.
It’s important to me that Indigenous knowledge be incorporated into the work I do. In the first couple of lodges I worked at, that wasn’t the case. It’s been a great learning opportunity for me to develop business relationships and friendships with Indigenous peoples on the west coast. I worked with CCIRA for a period of time, doing some writing and communications, which was another way for me to learn about the coast through their lens. I tend to look at the world through an ecology lens. But, First Nations have 10,000 years of knowledge about these places. Putting the two together is really illuminating and continues to be.
What’s it like to see a spirit bear?
It’s a startling thing: you’re in a rainforest, it’s dark and green…and all of a sudden, a white bear walks out of the forest. They look illuminated compared to their surroundings. I’ve been doing it a long time but it still gets me every time. All I can think is, “My god! Look at that thing!”

How do people react to seeing one for the first time?
It’s highly varied and it can be hard to know what’s going on with people. Some people are very effusive but others are laid back. Some people cry. It might be something they’ve wanted to see for a long time. For some people who are more well travelled, it’s a moment in time. But I would say for most of our guests, it’s a profound experience.
I know that there are a lot of people that will print their photos and put them up on their walls. Others will email me to see what’s going on with the bears, which shows they’re paying attention.
What are your tours like?
We stay in the Gitga’at First Nation territory of Hartley Bay. That’s really neat because, in other places, you’re staying in a lodge full of white people. In Hartley Bay, we’re staying in Marvin’s actual guest house. It’s mom-and-pop, very comfortable.
The only time we can reliably see the bears is during salmon season. We’ll go into a river valley, and hike up into the forest where there’s a good fishing spot. Then we hunker down and wait for the bears to come to us, take pictures, hang out, and go back.
You’ve been witness to a herring spawn!
It just blew my mind, I’d never seen it before. Back to that profusion of life: the number of eagles, seabirds, sea lions, otters, whales…as a biologist, it’s just incredible. The ocean turns this incredible turquoise colour. Seals and sea lions are chasing fish, but they’re diving right where the herring are spawning so they come up covered in eggs. Otters are emerging with eel grass and birds trailing behind. You’d easily find eggs washed up on the beach, and we’d pick them up and taste them (they taste like the ocean, with a distinct texture).
Growing up in Ontario, I had never really consumed real seafood (probably only farmed salmon from out east). So herring eggs were totally new. And, I didn’t know I liked grilled (fresh, from the ocean) salmon until I moved to BC. When we stay in Hartley Bay, they serve us a lot of fresh seafood, including salmon and halibut, which I really love. This is an exaggeration, but I try to eat a year’s supply while I’m there, because I don’t eat it anywhere but that place. It’s local, Indigenous-harvested food, which is incredibly generous because these are the foods they would be eating themselves. Marvin’s wife makes amazing halibut!
What does it mean to you to be able to be a visitor to the Gitga’at Nation?
What’s amazing about this business is working with Marvin and his people, and that we’re able to put an economic value on preservation: intact wildlife and ecosystems. Traditionally on the coast, it’s all extractive industries. I think we’re using natural resources in a different way. Yes, we’re still using them, but it’s non-consumptive or depleting in the way traditional fisheries or forestry are.
Not only are we putting financial resources directly into the hands of these communities, we’re facilitating them to get out on their own land and see their own territory. For some people, the only time they get out to see their own territory is when they’re guiding. Encouraging more local people to support these tours would only help us continue and deepen this work.
Working on the boats and working with the First Nations people, I’ve experienced things that are so beyond my experience of growing up in Ontario, that it’s blown my doors wide open. Every time I go back, I immerse myself in that, it’s a real gift. The coast means so much to me, it would be really hard if I couldn’t go out there.
Do you ever get nervous before a trip?
I’m always a bit nervous before trips because I want them to go well, but I always wonder why I get nervous. Maybe because these places, these animals, and the people mean something to me and I so deeply want other people to fall in love with all of it, too.
What do you do when no animals show up or it’s pouring rain the entire time?
That’s when the job gets hard. It can be really difficult for people who have come to see the big things and we’re four days in and have seen nothing. So, we have to draw them to little things and tell stories…stories go a long way. I think the most important part about guiding is telling stories.
There’s a big difference between nature information and nature interpretation. People won’t remember the weight of a salmon or how many eggs herring lay. But wrapped up in a story, those facts become memorable. Marvin is a great raconteur, so my job is to prompt him. The best stories are ones that immerse us in the place and describe what our guests may have wanted to see. We also like to get people laughing and joking: that’s how you can make a slow day a good day.
It’s happened before where we don’t see anything we want to see at all during the trip! And people usually understand that. I try to “scare” our guests up front to set the expectation that they might not see what they want to see. That way, when they do see something, it’s that much more exciting. We sometimes will have people on our guides who expect to have things handed to them, but we also get people who are excited about the possibility and are happy to just be out in the rainforest. Tthere’s always something to look at in the rainforest!
There’s a lot to say about the ethics of wildlife guiding. What’s your take?
I have so many thoughts about it. Both from a wildlife and tourism point of view! Essentially, wildlife viewing can be done ethically, but you have to be respectful and put in a lot of thought. The well-being of the animals is more important than your photograph.
Bears are a good example: if we create predictable patterns of human behaviour, they learn those and then they ignore us. If they understand that we’re benign and just sitting there with cameras that make clicking sounds, we get a window into their world: bears being bears. They’re not worried about us and they’ll often have their backs to us (which can sometimes frustrate the photographers looking for that perfect shot!). But this is distinctly different from random, roadside encounters, where the bears might be on alert and trying to figure you out.
We have to respect the animals and give them the space they need and maybe they’ll “cooperate” with what humans want to do. That can mean sitting for hours and hours and maybe nothing will happen! Or maybe an interaction will last three minutes. It’s so critically important that we understand the ecology and natural history of animals to make sure we’re not interfering, and that we’re behaving in a way that’s acceptable.
If an animal is uncomfortable with us, we have to give it more space. On a recent trip in May, we were out during the bear breeding season, and the bears were chasing each other around. There was this one female bear who was totally comfortable with us, but the big male was also there. We received enough signals that he wasn’t comfortable with us being there, so we left. My clients were interested in photographing this big, beautiful male, but I had to tell them that we needed to leave. It’s not ethical to view these bears when they don’t want to be watched, especially at a critical time of the year.
Every now and then we find ourselves in the wrong spot: we can’t control everything in the scene. But we try to extract ourselves as quickly and safely as possible and talk through it with our guests. People can sometimes be a bit oblivious, they’re so focused on their own photographs and don’t realize we’re signalling that it’s time to go. It’s not their fault. That’s the job of a guide!
To me, the most egregious behaviour from photographers happens when they’re on their own. When they’re in a group and with a guide, the rules and the ethics are more obvious. They also understand that if humans impact the animals or if we interfere, soon we won’t see any more animals. I think most people want to be doing things in an ethical way.

What’s a favourite photo you’ve taken or one that sticks out?
After spending a lot of time with a photograph, you sometimes want to move on. But the one that’s sticking out for me is the one on my desktop right now. It’s a very intimate encounter with a white bear that I’ve only seen once. Marvin has known about this bear since it was a cub, and it’s been in a National Geographic article.
I was in the woods with Marvin and five or six clients, none of them photographers! They were just enjoying the experience. Marvin is the one who found the bear and he was in a salmon coma! He’d nap, doze, and occasionally snack on some fish. We don’t usually get to spend time with them in the forest but on this occasion, we spent an hour and a half with this big, beautiful white bear, laying on a forest floor covered in mosses. It was such a profound experience. I’ve been working with wildlife for 20 years, but this moment really stood out for me. It was such a rare moment in time.
How do you attract more BC residents to your tours?
It’s always my wish that the people we take out on our trips are from BC. It would certainly mean a smaller carbon footprint. People come from around the world and remark on how this is the most beautiful place in the world. If I had it my way, our trips would be filled with people from right here. That would feel good.
We pay stewardship fees to the Gitga’at Nation and other nations each year that go toward conservation efforts. We also participate in the 1% For the Planet program. But the thing that bugs me about this whole industry is the carbon footprint! I’ve always been uncomfortable with that.
Does what you do ever get old?
What gets me every time I go guiding is that it’s not just about the animals. It’s about the animals and the scene: the big picture. I’ll sometimes marvel at the fact that we’re in a fjord, the rockweed is orange, and there’s snow on the mountains. And then there’s also a bear in the scene. To me, it’s pretty hard to imagine getting bored with the big picture because the rainforest and the ocean are so dramatic.