Walruses at Smeerenburg
Hannah Larrabee
I was afraid of them but that’s gone now.
One turned and stared at me with a patch
of snow stuck to its whiskers. Male or female
was irrelevant. All that mattered was whether
you were standing downwind. My father
used to bring back truckloads of cow manure
for the garden, but that didn’t come close.
Cows are debutantes, comparatively.
I’m not usually afraid and can’t explain why
I was before seeing them, but when I did
see them, congregated on the killing fields
of Smeerenberg, I fell into a historical sadness.
The whale blubber boiling pits were still visible.
Walruses were part of the slow, innumerable deaths.
Now they watch us with only an occasional bout
of curiosity. They are among themselves so beautifully.
When I got tired of the clicking cameras, I walked
away to observe the vista, the distant glaciers.
What happened here echoes still in the bowhead-less
ocean. To be without something is the surest sign
of human harm. The mountains here forgot us willingly
and they still call out to the whales whenever the moon
dips below the horizon.
October 11, 2022
The author declares they have no competing interests.
Walruses of Smeerenburg
Harley Cowan
Walruses of Smeerenburg, Silver gelatin print, 2022.
©2022, Harley Cowan. All Rights Reserved.
Several walruses of a larger colony lie resting in a group on a snowy beach at Smeerenburg on Amsterdamøya (Amsterdam Island). The mountainous coastline of Spitsbergen is visible in the distance.
We took our time approaching this colony of about fifty. They knew we were there and it raised some initial curiosity but we kept our distance and, after a time, they did not mind our presence. The photograph suggests a more placid scene than it was. They were noisy, restless bedfellows perpetually complaining and poking at one another. Some left their immediate group to try another. A handful of animals hauled out or back into the sea while others bathed in the shallows. We were generally upwind but occasionally the breeze would shift and we received a nostril-full of something between cow pasture and low tide.
This day was incredible. It was a joy to see these animals thriving in their natural habitat. We spent nearly an hour watching and, although I shot all dozen of my sheets of film, it was tough to pack up and hike back down the coast to our zodiac, straining to hear their grunts and groans as they faded away into the silence.
Three centuries of commercial hunting brought Svalbard walruses to near extinction. In 1952, a hunting ban was passed to protect the hundred or so remaining. Today, the population has rebounded and approximately six thousand live in the archipelago. Terrestrial haul-out sites like the broad, shallow beaches at Smeerenburg are vital to walruses, especially as populations rebound and pack ice retreats and shrinks.
The author declares they have no competing interests.
80˚ North
Hannah Larrabee
I ask that the God
of my body
rise with the distinct
tongue of a glacier
I have traveledall the way to
Spitsbergenand submerged
myself in waterso cold my breath
took a shape that longer fit
inside my lungsit seems extreme
to look for me here
but I have looked
everywhere else
80˚ latitude and
the Northern Lightslost their name
when we looked
south to watch them
be so boldas to withhold
their best colorsfrom us
without a lensI didn’t care
I am familiar withmy own shy colors
that’s why I amnoting the light
under each icebergon each glacial peak
I am out lookingfor the person
you love and whenthe north wind
asked why I was here
I answered.
October 6, 2022
The author declares they have no competing interests.
Walrus Voyeur
Candace Jensen
The photo of the walruses snuggling was taken with an iPhone and a pair of borrowed binoculars held up to the lens, from a safe distance at Smeerenburgbreen. ©2022, Candace Jensen. All Rights Reserved.
The author declares they have no competing interests.