Tex as photographed by Leslie Goresky
Ah, our old friend, Tex. The wandering grizzly who swam his way into the hearts of many (and onto Texada Island) like a furry folk hero in what has become a twisted Canadian wildlife management tale. If you've been following along, you'll recall the rogue band of islanders defying the government, hatching secret relocation plots, and roping in First Nations wisdom to save a "problem" bear from a bureaucratic bullet. Well, no matter how many people and organizations banded together to save Tex, it wasn’t enough to save the agitating bear from himself. Now, nearly seven months after his untimely demise, the saga has a courtroom coda that's equal parts closure and head-scratcher.
For the uninitiated (or those needing a refresher), Tex wasn't your average ursine drifter. This five-year-old male grizzly, tagged with a yellow ear marker, first popped up on British Columbia's Sunshine Coast mainland last summer, where he earned his "problem" label by stalking hikers and chasing livestock. In an attempt to conserve life, conservation officers played the relocation game first relocating him to Vancouver Bay, then farther north to Jervis Inlet. Undeterred, Tex backstroked like a champ, covering about 5 km across choppy waters to the sparsely inhabited Texada Island in late May of 2025.
Given the fact that Texada had been grizzly-free for the better part of 100 years, causing a bit of community chaos was Tex’s next move. While some snapped photographs of the majestic bruin, others clasped to safety by barricading their homes and trash bins. It wasn’t long before a grassroots group of rebels busted onto the scene and committed to defying government orders by crowdsourcing plans to tranquilize, collar, and airlift Tex to bear paradise, aiming to raise $20,000–$30,000 from sympathetic donors (shoutout to those Swiss wildlife fans).
But the B.C. Conservation Officer Service slammed the brakes, deeming the rogue rescue mission unsanctioned, unsafe, and potentially illegal under the Wildlife Act.
That's when the plot thickened with a hint of Indigenous ingenuity. The defiant group then pivoted, and handed the reins to a coalition of First Nations which included the shíshálh Nation, Tla'amin Nation, and Homalco First Nation. Erik Blaney, shíshálh's lands and resources manager, crafted a "robust" plan that would see the 900-pound bear whisked about 100 km north to Bute Inlet, a grizzly hotspot with salmon runs to keep him fat and far from pesky bipeds. Submitted mid-June, the plan hit a wall of provincial red tape before eventually being approved after a few government-ordained backroom meetings.
Well, as luck would have it, and just as traps were prepped and rotors whirred, tragedy struck. Tex's body turned up riddled with bullets in the Van Anda area just days before the hush-hush operation was set to take place. The BCCOS quickly swooped in for a full necropsy, with initial whispers pointing to a local shooter many believed encountered Tex while up to his usual antics.
Tex lay slain just outside of Van Anda
For months there was silence which allowed the saga to properly simmer on social media, as Facebook groups dissected sightings, and conspiracy theories began bubbling like island hot springs.
In September, BC officials announced that they had the suspects they believed to be responsible and had pressed charges and just yesterday it was announced the pair had finally met their fate in a court room.
According to reports, Kody Bevan and Seneca Antony appeared for sentencing in Powell River provincial court earlier this week...but not for poaching or unlawful killing. Instead, these guys copped to a procedural slap, officially known as failing to report the wounding or death of a grizzly under section 75(2) of the Wildlife Act. For their actions (which are still under lock and key) each was handed a $3,000 fine, with $4,000 of the total set to be funneled to the Habitat Conservation Trust Foundation.
From what we can parse out of what actually happened in this unique case it looks as though it was a case of self defense. In B.C., grizzlies have been off-limits for sport hunting since 2017, but you can legally drop one in defense of life or property, so long as you report it pronto. The BCCOS's probe implied that Bevan and Antony were involved (or at least present) when Tex met his end, but the kill itself wasn't deemed prosecutable. Maybe it was ruled justifiable amid Tex's human and livestock-chasing escapades. Or maybe evidence simply fell short.
Either way, the "failure to report" plea feels like a compromise to some, with many asking questions about what really went down that fateful day. And while the case was closed without the full fireworks of a wildlife crime trial, questions abound about whether or not one was even necessary. From where we sit, it sounds as though our old friend Tex went down swinging, and that's likely the way this un-relocatable bear would have wanted it.
