The majority of the eight passengers, who hail from all across Canada, belong to the Naturalistus normalus class. They have come on the late-June trip to see one of the world’s iconic wilderness area sand the wildlife that lives within it. They are also huge Bateman fans, obviously thrilled to get the chance to spend time with their 85-year-old hero. Several are surprised to discover that they will be sharing the same sleeping quarters.

And then there is the lone representative of the Naturalistus ignoramus class: me. The sad truth is that I’d have a hard time identifying the handful of trees in my own backyard. And yet I do love seeing wildlife, especially the big stuff — what might properly be called “megafauna.” So I suppose I could be further classified as Naturalistus ignoramus, megafaunatic.

When it comes to fauna, it doesn’t get much more mega than a humpback whale, and that’s what we encounter mid-morning on our second day as we cruise north on the wide Mathieson Channel.

Humpback sightings have become increasingly common in the Great Bear Rainforest over the last 20 years, but this one is doing something that apparently still isn’t seen all that often in these waters — it’s feeding using a method called “bubble netting.” The whale is diving deep and then releasing bubbles in a circular pattern as it swims back to the surface. Small fish are effectively trapped within the bubbles and, as they rise, are concentrated in a nice bite-sized area on the surface, where the whale opens its mouth.

Of course, the more knowledgeable naturalists on board are delighted to witness this activity. (Bateman has never seen it before, and later reproduces it in one of the many sketches he makes during the trip.) But I am even more delighted as we then follow the whale at a respectful distance for almost an hour, watching its blowhole spouting and its flukes undulating in and out of the water.

Speaking of unforgettable, Bateman is also very pleased to spot a Eurasian collared-dove, which he’s never seen in Canada before, and a black swift, which he’s never seen anywhere before.

I think I missed them.

So how do you top a day like that? In the Great Bear, it’s easy. You just weigh anchor and head somewhere else. In our case, we move on to the end of another remote inlet, called Khutze. Along the way, we see our second humpback, some Steller’s sea lions and more Dall’s porpoises. But it’s at Khutze, where another river flows down from the mountains, that things get really interesting.

Once again, we pile into the dinghies to explore the estuary. Captain Smith scans the area for bears, and then decides we should proceed as far as we can upriver. We are fighting against a strong current when we come upon a scene straight out of a Dramatic Wildlife Moments! video. Up ahead, three common mergansers — one adult and two young — are treading water at the side of the river, while above them, a bald eagle sits on a tree branch. As we approach, the eagle swoops down repeatedly from its perch, attempting to grab one of the ducklings, but to our amazement, the mergansers somehow manage to avoid its attacks. Finally, the adult merganser leads the two young ducks on a bold bid across the river to reach cover on the far bank. Though I suppose we shouldn’t be taking sides — after all, the eagle is probably hungry — we nonetheless cheer when the three ducks make it to safety.

A couple of hours later, we head back up the river looking for bears, after someone on the ship sees activity along the riverbank. As we draw near the spot, a female grizzly suddenly stands up, with green sedge in her mouth, and then turns and moves uphill. After a few moments, we see her climbing a cliff above with three small cubs. Back on the ship, we celebrate the sighting with a whisky toast.