Friday, August 04, 2017

Svalbard Diary, Day 7: I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a walrus...

I may have mentioned my enthusiasm for walrus(es) already. Indeed, when I grow up, I want to be a walrus. There were more walrus in our future, as we headed for Cape Lee and the known walrus haulout there.

Into the zodiac again, and off we went. "Walrus off of our bow!", someone shouted. The walrus bobbed below the surface... We scanned the water. And then, it reappeared... eight feet away, so close you could count its whiskers. I was enthralled. Our guide wasn't so keen. Apparently, walrus are known, in their enthusiasm, to puncture zodiacs with their tusks, and Colin wasn't taking any chances. We sped away...

The good news was that there were six walrus asleep on the shore, next to some huts built by an ill-fated Dutch expedition. The scientists had concluded that being armed was unnecessary, which was fine until a polar bear turned up, caught one of the scientists in the open, and mauled him to death.

The walrus were still asleep when we got to them, and we were able to get very close, before setting off down the beach towards the carcass of a dead polar bear. It clearly hadn't been dead that long, although what had actually killed it wasn't obvious.

Next, we walked across a slope in search of reindeer, and found an excellent male example. Svalbard reindeer have relatively short legs by reindeer standards, but given the lack of predators, they don't need to be that quick. This one didn't seem to have a care in the world.

Onwards and upwards we went, until suddenly a wide valley opened up below us, with more reindeer. It was truly majestic. But we had to get back, as the ship was due to sail on, and we set off back to the landing place.

Everybody else was off looking at reindeer, but I only had eyes for the walrus, and so I persuaded one of the security team to accompany me back to them. You must have security on Svalbard, armed security, at all times. Polar bears can appear out of the water, or from behind rocks, when you least expect them, and so before the passengers are allowed ashore, the area is scanned and a perimeter established.

But Chris and I went back to the walrus and stood watching them in quiet admiration. Their life is a simple one - eat, sleep, eat some more. Their blubber is so thick that even if a polar bear catches one, it can just drag itself, and the bear, down the beach and into the sea and safety. Yes, the bear can swim, but it can't really dive. Me, a man with a rifle, and half a dozen enormous walrus. It brings a tear to the eye just thinking about it...

In the afternoon, we were out on a zodiac cruise when the word went round that a polar bear had been spotted on the sea ice in front of the glacier at X. Eight zodiacs edged cautiously through the brash ice - small lumps of floating ice no larger than a small car - bringing us closer and closer to the bear.

Eventually, it slipped off of the ice floe and swam a little way further back before hauling itself onto another floe which seemed to suit it better. We continued to edge forward so that everyone could get a really good look at a healthy polar bear in its natural environment of the sea ice. It was truly incredible.


You think of the Arctic as bleak, silent. And it is, sort of. But as you glide through the brash ice, you are accompanied by a persistent cracking sound as the ice breaks around you. And the ice itself comes in a range of types. I pulled an ice dagger out of the water, the ice absolutely clear and the perfect murder weapon, leaving no trace as it melted. Luckily, I was in a benevolent mood, merely holding it so that fellow passengers could photograph it...

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