Going On A Bear Hunt

"Pity about the weather," I said to Grumpy as the rain dripped off my nose. We'd had the same thing in Hawaii, but at least there the deluging rain was warm. We were so cold and miserable we might as well be in London.
Fortunately we had booked an excersion to cheer us up. We were going off to see a glacier. Cool. If not freezing.
The Mendenhall Glacier is indeed pretty cool, even in the rain.
"I hear bears have been reported in the area, so keep a look out," said our guide.
I'd been dying to see a real bear so we kept an eye out.
"Here, look at this photo I just took," said one of our companions.
"Where?" said Grumpy. He'd taken 200 photos of a fjord this morning, 120 of the glacier this afternoon, but still needed a bear to add to his collection.
"Just there, near the water."
Try as he could, no bears. Everyone seemed to have captured a photo, but not us.
I was sympathetic.
"Hear, I've found one," I said in the visitor center. "I know it's a skin, but it'll look very realistic on the photo. Pretend to grapple it."
(We're old hams at this, having done the same thing to great effect with a crocodile in Australia).
The photo wouldn't work. Ten minutes grumbling from Grumpy about my camera technique revealed the battery had run out, so we couldn't even get a pic of a dead bear.
Back on the bus, the driver asked everyone if they had seen the bears.
"Yes," they all cried.
"That guy there didn't," he said pointing at Grumpy.
To make matters worse, back on the ship we bumped into Barbie and her husband, just back from their Juneau wedding.
"It was wonderful," gushed the Juneau bride. "We got married outside. There were even real bears at the wedding!"