On the jetty in Ton Sai village on Phi-Phi island, Thai soldiers are wheeling a handcart with two bodies, one large and bloated under the plastic wrapping, the other more like that of a child or a small adult.
The corpses are brought to a landing craft, where they are piled on top of scores of other plastic-wrapped bodies. There is a strong smell of death as they pass, even through a face mask.
Later, on Khao Lak, the worst-affected beach on Phuket island, rescue workers can be seen filling refrigerated containers with body-bags. Plastic coffins are piled high beside the site.
At a makeshift mortuary north of Phuket town, a German forensic expert cuts open a body-bag, again releasing the foul smell of death, before taking a DNA sample which may put a name on one of the thousands of unidentified dead.
"It's extremely difficult to identify drowning victims who've been in the water," Jürgen Peter says. "We have had people fighting over bodies, eager to claim them, they want it to be their loved one. We can't even tell the difference between Thais and Europeans when we see the bodies."
So many bodies. And still they pile up at the tourist resorts of southern Thailand one week after the tsunamis which devastated this tropical paradise.
Approaching Phi-Phi island on a speedboat from Phuket, there is little sign at first that a catastrophe has struck, but mountains of debris piled high in the coves and inlets of the neighbouring smaller islands suddenly come into view.
The entire sea-front resort, which until last week was a thriving row of hotels, shops, sea-food restaurants and diving schools, has been destroyed.
The corpses are brought out to a waiting Thai aircraft carrier for transportation to the main island of Phuket. The vessel's serial number is 911.
Thai rescue officials were still draining the areas behind the sea-front and bodies kept coming into view the whole time we were there.
A group of about 20 Buddhist monks were gathered under a marquee near the remains of Phi-Phi's Island Hotel to chant for the hundreds of tourists and locals who died on the island.
Looking at the devastation, it is hard to imagine anyone having survived.
Every few minutes, another team of Thai soldiers runs past with handcarts laden with bodies. Storing the as-yet-unidentified bodies has become a problem - the Thais are running out of containers to keep the bodies in a refrigerated state and they have appealed to other countries to send them more of these refrigerated units.
Fires burning rubbish at various points behind Ton Sai village throw up a heavy stream of black smoke and helicopters touching down on a makeshift landing zone give the place the feel of something out of Apocalypse Now.
Phi-Phi is the Thailand most people are familiar with from the tourist brochures - sheer cliffs rising up out of a pristine sea and hidden inlets fronted by long stretches of golden beach.
Now the beaches are strewn with piles of deck furniture, sandals, items of clothing, parasols, cooler boxes, kayaks and suitcases - all the paraphernalia of tourism.
Located about 40km from Phuket, Phi-Phi is the most popular tourist destination after Phuket itself. It is, in fact, two islands - Ko Phi-Phi Leh and Ko Phi-Phi Don.
Phi-Phi Leh became famous because it is the location where the film of Alex Garland's novel The Beach was shot. The larger Phi-Phi Don is a developed tourist centre.
Ton Sai village is made up of two pedestrian walkways which, until the waves struck, formed a lively hub of Internet cafés, scuba shops, boutiques and restaurants.
A passing soldier stops to join his hands together and bow in the traditional Thai gesture of respect before moving on to continue the search for bodies in the debris, which is still piled high in the streets.
We have to pick our way carefully through the mess. Excavators are knocking damaged buildings down and the area is dangerous.
My guide, Beer, who runs a speedboat business between Phuket and Phi-Phi, was distraught both at the loss of life and the loss of his business. The tsunamis hit right in the middle of the peak tourist season and he does not know what the future holds.
As we wander back past the flattened village and the handcarts laden with body-bags, he wrings his hands and repeats over and over: "Phi-Phi."
Later, on the way to Khao Lak, we stop at a field mortuary set up by a German relief team. This comprises a row of six containers with trestle tables outside.
The victims are brought out and the doctors take DNA samples in the open. There is no time for decorum. The forensic experts wear shorts and Wellingtons under their smocks.
"All we're seeing is bodies now, no more survivors," says Hans-Joachim Gerhold, team leader of a group from the German search and rescue organisation THW. "We've gone after every clue, but we only find bodies. I've been to seven earthquakes, but this is by far the worst I've ever seen. It's terrible what the water can do."
Arriving in Khao Lak, the devastation is total. This is where most of the deaths took place, where thousands lost their lives and thousands more are still missing.
Khao Lak is gone, basically. The waves came far inland and completely destroyed everything in their path. The fields are strewn with debris, wrecked cars litter the streets and all that remains of many of the beach's plush hotels are the signs which once hung outside.
The tsunami lifted up a Thai naval ship and dropped it in a field about a kilometre from the shoreline.
We spoke to Jim Hofverberg, a representative of the Nordic tour operator Fritidsresor. Most of those who travelled with his company were staying at Khao Lak.
The Nordic countries fear that they have lost enormous numbers of people. Some estimates put the total of Swedish casualties - missing or perhaps dead - as high as 4,000.
"It's indescribable. We've evacuated all the customers that we've made contact with back to the Nordic countries, around 2,000 people. We are sending everyone home; we need to get them out of here to avoid confusion," Mr Hofverberg said.
"We are only a tour operator, we are not prepared for this. We have handled a few bus accidents or whatever; that sort of thing is a disaster for us. But never anything like this."
While Khao Lak may take years to recover, in other parts of Phuket there is a sense of things getting back to normal. People can be seen swimming off Patong beach and the many bars not destroyed are open again.
On New Year's Eve there was a candlelight vigil in the red-light district, followed by a minute's silence and a rendition of Elton John's Candle in the Wind.
A procession of "ladyboy" transsexuals collected money for the hospital on Phuket. Then the disco anthem Hallelujah blasted out and it was back to business, at least for some of those on the island.