They flop and roll lazily, oblivious to their audience.

You can smell them before you see them, a sun-baked crab shell scent emanating from the blubbery puddle of long-toothed walruses in the distance. There are well over 100 of the pinnipeds loafing on the shores of the remote Kapp Lee headland on Svalbard's Edge Island.
They flop and roll lazily, oblivious to their audience who've just arrived. We've zipped in by Zodiac, leaving our Swan Hellenic cruise ship anchored a short ride away. According to the law, only 36 people can set foot on this remote part of the Svalbard archipelago at any one time, so the walruses outnumber me and my fellow expedition cruisers by at least four to one.
Unbelievably, this is considered just a small "haul out" - or resting group - here in the far northern reaches of the Arctic. It's hard to imagine what seeing a group any bigger would be like, especially when sitting here and looking down on so many of the one-tonne beasts is already such a mind-blowing experience.
The largest number of walruses ever recorded in a single haul out




