All language subtitles for Iceland Land of Ice and Fire BBC Natural World 2015 1080p HDTV x265 AAC EN Sub

Search and rescue teams are crossing
Iceland's central plateau.

A few kilometres below them,
a huge reservoir of molten magma

shakes the ground as it makes
its way to the surface.

The question is not IF an eruption
will take place,

but when...and where.

Icelanders have turned their
unstable, cold, rugged island

into one of the most modern and
culturally-rich nations on earth.

But they still keep one foot
in the wild

and a very careful eye on the beast
stirring beneath them.

Over what turns out to be
an explosive year,

and through the eyes of
wild foxes...

..an eider duck farmer...

..and Viking horsemen,

we'll see why everything on Iceland

remains uniquely connected
to the land underfoot.

Under the eerie glow
of the Northern Lights,

Iceland is in the iron grip
of winter.

Lying close to the Arctic Circle,

with just a few hours
of light a day,

it has endured months below zero.

At this time of year, it's hard
to imagine Iceland's fiery origins,

but the island emerged
as molten lava

from deep beneath
the Atlantic Ocean.

It's one of the planet's
newest pieces of land.

Everywhere are reminders
of how little time it's had

to shed its raw, rocky character,

and how closely it's connected
to the very centre of the earth.

Iceland is so new and so isolated
in the North Atlantic

that, until relatively recently,

there were no land mammals
here at all.

But during the last Ice Age,

when it was connected to Greenland
by ice bridges and ice floes,

a very tenacious predator turned up.

The Arctic fox.

Iceland's first land mammal,

in its many colour variations,
was here to stay.

But how it survived on Iceland
without any of its regular prey,

like lemmings, has long fascinated
scientist Ester Unnsteinsdottir.

'This is an Arctic species,
it's adapted to the Arctic winter,

'which is really cold.

'And you can see it
on the thick fur,

'it's the thickest fur in the
universe, so very well insulating.'

It's actually better
than a polar bear's

against the biting cold.

Enduring extreme weather
is one thing -

its biggest challenge on Iceland
is finding food.

They need to eat.

And if they don't have enough food
in the wintertime,

especially before breeding,
they don't manage to breed properly.

There is a remarkable lifeline.

An arm of the Gulf Stream helps
to keep much of Iceland's

long, rocky coastline ice-free.

So even in winter,
foxes can scavenge

the washed-up remains of fish,
seabirds and sea mammals.

Only the toughest foxes hold on to
a slice of good shoreline territory

and get the chance to breed.

But first, they have to find a mate.

A dark male appears
to have won over a brown female.

A white male is desperate
to mate with her, too.

And succeeds in grabbing
her attention.

For a while, he seems to have
outfoxed his rival.

But it doesn't end well for him.

The white male
will have to try elsewhere.

Hopefully, this brown female,
with the victor in tow,

has the strength she'll need
to have a family.

For the weak or the inexperienced,
winter is a punishing time.

Less than half of all foxes survive.

Sea mammals have an easier ride.

The ice-free waters offer

some of the best fishing
in the North Atlantic...

..attracting not just seals,
but whales and dolphins.

The fertile seas were a good reason
for humans to settle here, too.

The first Vikings colonised Iceland
just over a thousand years ago.

Down the generations,
through fishing and farming,

they have carved out a unique way

of dealing with
the many limits to life.

Most of Iceland's people,
just over 300,000 of them,

are descended from
the original settlers.

And many still work the land
in tried and tested ways.

Even their livestock traces back
to the animals

the Vikings brought with them.

Purest and most admired
is the Icelandic horse.

It's smaller and much hardier
than most other breeds.

Owners give them a little help
towards winter's end,

but mostly, they tough out
the cruellest of weather.

The best way to raise livestock here
is to keep the animals semi-wild.

It gives them the character
and spirit to survive

in this austere volcanic landscape.

But with little prime grazing land,

Icelanders could never rely
on their livestock alone.

Long ago, the arrival of squadrons
of swans, ducks and geese

would have offered relief
from dwindling winter rations.

One species offered
much more than a meal.

Eider ducks are among the millions
of birds that are drawn to Iceland

from all around the North Atlantic.

These days, Thor Bjornsson
makes an unusual living from them.

But he can't start work until
the eiders have finished pairing up

and have come ashore.

He, and the birds,
are waiting for spring.

Exposed all winter
to brutal Atlantic storms,

Iceland has been blanketed
by huge volumes of snow.

When that melts, it fills
thousands of streams and rivers.

And cascades over some of Europe's

largest and most powerful
waterfalls.

Iceland is so new and remote

that relatively few species
have made it here.

Its hardy pioneers
are always under pressure.

Even now, it's a race to make the
most of longer, warmer days ahead.

After a winter of famine,

male ptarmigan are hungry to reach
the buds, packed with proteins,

which are swelling at the top
of willows and birches.

It's a precarious high-wire act

for a bird that spends the majority
of its time on the ground.

Down on the coast, Thor is impatient

for the eiders
to get on with mating.

Millions of other migrating
and resident birds

are already nursing eggs,
set to take advantage

of what will be a very short,
but bountiful summer.

BIRDSONG

Eventually, the eiders return to the
western islands of Breidafjordur,

finding the same nest scrapes

that their mothers
and grandmothers used before them.

The mother duck cradles her eggs
in a pillow of down

collected from her own
breast feathers.

There is no other duck down like it.

It's this down
that Thor wants to harvest,

but he'll need his extended family
to help gather it.

Thor's farm consists of nearly
300 small islands.

And they'll have to deal with over
3,000 wild eider ducks.

It's going to be a busy few weeks.

Spring has finally reached
Hornstrandir,

the craggy, lonely,
north-western corner of Iceland.

After a severe winter,
this female fox

is hanging around
one of only two den sites.

The lack of food over the past
few months will have taken its toll,

but now she has to step up a gear.

She's looking after
not just herself...

..but six newborn cubs.

Her work is cut out.

She's a mum with a sky-high
milk bill.

Just to keep up production,
she's going to have to spend

the next weeks hunting fulltime.

Arctic foxes
are feisty opportunists.

They may be small, but when
livestock arrived on Iceland,

they soon worked out how to kill
animals much larger than themselves.

In response, the early settlers
began hunting foxes

to keep their numbers under control.

Today, foxes still take livestock

and the hunting quotas
enshrined in law in the 13th century

are still in force.

On Iceland's marginal land,

the challenges facing both fox
and farmer cannot be underestimated.

Making a living out here is tough.

For farmers like Halldor,
horses are their pride and joy.

These days, Halldor
and his son-in-law, Snorri,

mostly breed them for riding.

Horses are still better than 4x4s

on Iceland's rough tracks
and mountain passes.

Just as sturdy and dependable

as when they were the backbone
of Icelandic communities.

HE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE:

The finest horses became
highly-regarded status symbols.

SNORRI IN ENGLISH: You had a lot of
respect if you had the best horse.

Even if you were a poor farmer,

if you had the best horse,
you had respect.

HALLDOR SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

SNORRI TRANSLATING:
"Really important for the young guys
to have a nice horse

"when they were looking for girls.

"When you came with good clothes,
on a nice horse,

"you had a good chance."

Every spring, Halldor checks on
his pregnant mares.

He hopes his favourite stallion
will be the father.

The very best foals will be much
admired at the end-of-year round-up,

but Halldor has no control
over their arrival.

They give birth
to their foals in secret.

Often after dark, and without help.

Halldor has to trust that his mares
are robust enough to cope.

Over 3,000 eider ducks are now
settled on eggs on Thor's islands.

He and his family carefully comb
each rocky outcrop,

looking for nests.

Thor's unusual livelihood allows him

to spend time in
the wildest parts of Iceland,

among the nature he loves so much.

'I started about 1970.

'And I was 14 years old then.

'I found it very, very nice
to be with the birds, like this.

'Collecting down
and all the wildlife around it.'

Thor carefully sets the eggs aside,
removes the down,

and will re-cushion the eggs
in soft, warm hay.

The female ducks can then return
to their duties with no harm done.

His yield is limited by the number
of birds that return each year.

Some years are better
than others and...

..we get up to 55 kilos
of eiderdown.

Normally, it's about 65 nests
in one kilo of down.

Eiders have proved tricky
to domesticate.

Their down can only be farmed
from wild birds.

To increase overall numbers,

Thor collects and rears
a few offspring

that may not otherwise survive.

'A lot of young ones,
eider ducklings, die in many ways.

'Bad, er...weather, wet and windy.

'They cannot get enough food.

'So normally, they maybe raise up
one duckling,

'two ducklings, something like that.

'We take one or two eggs
from the nest,

'depends how many eggs
are in the nest.

'When we started here, it was about
something between 500 or 600 eiders

'nesting in the homeland area,
but now it's more than 1,000,

'so they come back.'

While his eggs are incubating,
Thor gets down to business.

Nearly three quarters of all
eider duck down comes from Iceland,

and it's all gathered by hand.

Thor's family painstakingly
pick the down clean

before it's bagged up for sale.

Most becomes a cosy filling for
high-end duvets, quilts and jackets.

THEY SPEAK OWN LANGUAGE

Its secret may lie in the way
the fibres flex and lock together,

creating thousands
of minuscule air pockets.

It's such effective insulation

that it's been used to keep
astronauts warm in space.

This is duck down
that's flown to the moon and back.

CHIRPING

After a few days under a heat lamp,
Thor's ducklings begin to hatch.

They grow quickly.

In the wild, eider ducklings
can fledge after just a month.

CHIRPING

But under Thor's wing,

they stand a much better chance
of making it to adulthood.

CHEEPING

For these first days, at least,

they only have eyes
for their new duck dad.

They won't follow him
around long-term,

but Thor will have to spend the rest
of the summer

as a stay-at-home father,

teaching them skills they'll need
to become wild birds.

The longest days of the year
are approaching,

when the sun barely dips below
the horizon.

The fullness of summer

is only really felt
around the island's edges.

Hardly anything lives on the vast,
ash-covered central plateau.

Its many volcanoes erupt
too frequently and violently

to give life much chance.

It's like a sleeping giant that
everyone's turned their back on,

but dares not forget is there.

Watching over the fox family,

Ester is spending more and more time
on the Hornstrandir peninsula.

The cubs have been weaned,

but Mum's workload
just gets bigger by the day.

Sibling rivalry can be lethal.

It's thought that each fight
reinforces their rank in the family.

Dogged determination decides
who gets most food

and who, ultimately, survives.

This mum seems to be made of
particularly stern stuff

and is providing
for all six of the cubs.

She's raising her family
close to one of the most prolific

seabird colonies in Iceland.

There's lots of tempting food
on offer.

The problem is that it's perched
on sheer walls of rock.

If ever there was a high-stakes
game, this mother is playing it.

One false step and she will plunge
hundreds of metres

onto the rocks below.

Her cubs will effectively die
with her.

SQUAWKING

She's found a kittiwake.

But with a growing family,

she will have to risk her life
over and over again.

Today, she has the cliffs
to herself,

but until the 1950s, foxes were
in direct competition

with the people who eked out a
living on this far-flung peninsula.

'It was very harsh, even for humans,
you know. It was really tough.

'Bad winters and, er...not easy
to survive.

'So, both for humans and foxes.

'And they were probably using
the same resources,

'both space and food,

'so they were feeding on
birds and eggs.

'And that's what people
were also feeding on.'

On the remote island of Grimsey,

they still gather eggs
from the massive summer colonies.

Its long coastline and towering
cliffs of resistant volcanic rock

provide ledge space for thousands
of kittiwakes and guillemots.

And burrows above for puffins.

BIRDSONG

Across Iceland, there is still
the taste for seabird eggs.

A traditional and free-range
alternative

to battery-farmed chicken eggs.

These days, the kit may be
relatively modern,

but it still requires
an old-fashioned head for heights.

Timing is crucial.

Eggs are scooped up
right after laying.

The theory being that
as soon as the birds realise

their egg has gone, they'll re-lay.

The collectors simply delay
the hatch by a few days.

The length of cliff
which each collector sweeps

is strictly controlled.

Today, these eggs are sold
through supermarkets,

or traded for autumn berries
from the mainland.

For many, foraging remains
a part of everyday life,

tapping into the rich
natural resources around them.

The most remarkable resource of all
is the heat beneath their feet.

The island lies over the edge
of two continental plates

that are pulling away
from each other.

Iceland is being stretched apart
in the middle.

It's the easiest place
for boiling molten rock

to rise towards the surface.

This readily heats groundwater,

which, day to day,
can be rather useful.

Long ago, Icelanders discovered
how it could slow-cook

one of their most celebrated foods,
lava bread.

Every household has its
own secret recipe for roobrau,

but each loaf will be baked
in much the same way.

Once the dough is bucketed up,
it will be placed in a hot spring -

nearly every rural community
has one -

and then left for 24 hours.

The immense geothermal power
on offer

has transformed the lives
of all Icelanders.

They live just south
of the Arctic Circle.

Yet, modern, ground-heated
greenhouses

allow them to ripen vegetables
and fruits

that wouldn't otherwise
stand a chance of growing here.

They've created a sustainable bubble

in which plants
and their pollinators

defy the limits of growing
on raw, northern rock.

But along with their daily bread,
Icelanders are fed updates

on the many earthquakes that occur
on the island.

It's as routine
as the weather forecast.

And this year, it seems,
more important than ever.

In late May, a swarm of
200 earthquakes

register under the Bardarbunga
volcano in central Iceland.

It lies under Europe's
largest glacier, Vatnajokull.

And eruptions in the past
have caused catastrophic floods.

There's no evidence as yet that
magma is on its way to the surface,

but pilots overflying the area

are asked to keep an eye on any
changes to the ground below them.

On this extraordinary island,

ordinary life simply goes on.

There have been over
a dozen eruptions

in Halldor's lifetime alone.

Right now, he has
more immediate concerns.

One of his mares
has just given birth.

Like many creatures
that evolved on open grassland,

the foal's instinct is to get on
its feet as quickly as possible.

It seems healthy.

The new foals will stay close
to their mothers

for most of their first year.

But it may be the last Halldor
sees of them for a long while.

Soon, all his horses will move up
the valley and into the mountains.

It will give these
lower pastures a break.

But the move is also important
to encourage the foals to run free.

If they're to survive
their first winter,

they need to become resilient.

Horses from all
the farms around here

are allowed to return
to their roots.

Just like the ancestral wild horse
of the Eurasian Steppes,

they'll roam in large herds

and won't see their owners

for many months.

You want to keep this wildness
a little bit in the horses.

And this is
the best place to do that.

And it's also really important
that young horses go there, foals,

to learn this as quickly as possible.

This strengthens their mind
a lot to do this.

Because you never know
in Iceland, if... Just...

If it gets lost on the mountains,

they know how to help themselves.

I think also for the growing of
the horses and the young horses,

it's, like, it grows much better
and stronger on the mountains.

The Skagafjordur region
prides itself

on producing the very best
Icelandic horses.

Strict rules control the breed.

A horse sold abroad
is never allowed to return,

having lost the magic mix
of wildness and trainability.

This is the trait
Halldor's foals must develop

if they are to do him proud
at the end-of-year round-up.

The short summer is pressing on.

Wild eider ducks are already leading
their young broods out on the water.

The eider is a diving duck

that spends the whole winter
living at sea.

It's vital they become
powerful swimmers.

Thor's ducklings, too,

must begin learning how to face
the trials ahead.

Younger members of the family
lead the way.

They get very quickly
very big and strong.

And we bring them to the sea
every day, or sometimes twice a day,

to feed in the sea
and swim a little bit.

Here, they'll build up their muscles
and sharpen their instincts.

They're still vulnerable to the cold

and to ravenous black-backed gulls,

so the children must guide
and protect them.

First days, we have to look
very well after them

because they want to go away.

So we try to gather them
and so they don't swim away.

This wilful streak is good.

It means they haven't been tamed.

All in all, it's a fun way
for the kids to connect with nature.

And the smallest member
of the family

gets to talk down to someone else.

It's home-time.

The ducklings are gently herded
and counted back in.

Where they'll fluff
themselves back up

in readiness for the next stage
of their training.

For now, it's job done.

BIRDSONG

In Hornstrandir, the Atlantic Ocean
is slowly gnawing

at what remains of a very ancient
and immense lava flow.

On its unforgiving edge,
the mother fox has defied the odds.

All six of her cubs are still alive.

Although life is a challenge,
they currently stand

a better chance in Iceland
than elsewhere in the Arctic.

'There's very few Arctic foxes
left in Scandinavia.

'And they have been
endangered for many, many years.

'But they're facing troubles that
we are not facing here in Iceland.'

Ester believes the big problem
for Arctic foxes in Scandinavia

is the northward march of
the red fox, due to climate change.

As it moves into
Arctic fox territory,

the red fox takes over
their den sites,

competes for food
and even kills adults and young.

The Arctic foxes on Iceland
remain out of reach.

The island is an important
stronghold for them.

Mum's job is nearly done.

In the next few weeks,
the cubs will leave home.

Hunger may force them
into taking livestock,

where they risk being shot.

The odds are that not all of these
cubs will survive

the coming winter,
or go on to breed.

But the Arctic fox
has an almost heroic ability

to turn hardship into opportunity.

This mum's given them
the best possible start in life.

This far north, the limits to life

for animals and humans,
are very stark.

So Icelanders have never been shy
of taking from nature.

Traditionally, they've harvested
everything from seabirds to whales,

fish to seals,
some of which they still take today.

But it's clear that
if you live on an island,

especially one so remote
and northerly,

you cannot take more than you need.

Ever since the Vikings first landed,

fishing the rich offshore waters

have been fundamental
to the country's economy.

In the 1970s,
Iceland even used gunboats

to defend a 200-mile fishing limit
around their coast.

Today, with careful management,

their fisheries are some of the most
sustainable in the world.

Their long-term thinking
has helped other countries, too.

Icelandic rivers are important
spawning grounds

for the Atlantic salmon.

But in the 1980s,
salmon started to decline,

due mainly to overfishing

by commercial operations
on the high seas.

By raising funds to buy out
the netting operations,

effectively paying them not to fish,

millions of salmon
were given a chance

to return to rivers, from Norway
to North America.

The problem is far from over.

Striking a balance between
harvesting and protecting

is an ongoing effort,

but Icelanders manage it
in their own unique way.

It's a country where
hunting and gathering

sit side by side with modern life.

A nation with a dynamic economy,
built around Reykjavik,

the most northerly capital city
in the world.

Cheap, clean, renewable power
warms homes,

keeps the lights on
and provides mains' hot water.

Even city pavements
have underfloor heating.

Reykjavik's Opera House
celebrates music and drama

inspired by the original
Icelandic sagas.

But Icelanders
are necessarily rooted in reality.

They can never forget
they're living over a huge

and widening tear
in the earth's crust.

And as summer draws to a close,

the giant reservoir of molten rock
under them is beginning to stir.

Back on the Breidafjordur islands,
wild eider offspring

are learning what to eat
by watching their parents.

It's Thor's job to introduce
his ducklings to the kind of food

that will keep them going
out on the open water.

When they grow up, they'll be diving
mainly for molluscs,

which they eat, shell and all.

Tiny crustaceans,
stirred up from the shoreline,

are good starter foods.

In the end, Thor,
as a surrogate duck dad,

can only give them a helping hand.

Little by little,
they spread their wings,

foraging a little further from home,

becoming a little wilder every day.

But they swim then between here,
close to the island

and go on their own trips feeding,

but they always come home
in the evening.

So they find something
in this ocean to eat,

so it make them a good start
in their new life in the world.

Eventually, Thor leaves them
on their own.

His nurturing work is done.

Nature will take over from here.

But Thor hopes their homing instinct

will bring them back
to his islands next year.

In the high pastures,
ripening blueberries

and the turning leaves
mark the slide to autumn.

Even though the first snows
are dusting the mountains,

it's a time eagerly awaited
by farmers

in the northern area
of Skagafjordur,

for it also heralds
the event of their social calendar,

the annual round-up.

The horses might die up here
in winter blizzards,

so farmers join forces
to gather up the different herds

and drive them all down the valley.

For this year's foals,

it's a complete surprise
to be near humans again

and it goes against the grain.

But this independent spirit

is exactly what Halldor
and Snorri want.

It's what the Vikings saw
in the ancestors of these horses

when they traded them from Mongolia

and brought them to Iceland
over 1,000 years ago.

This is horse-trading nature's way.

THEY NEIGH

Somehow, each farmer must separate
their own horses from the crowd.

But they're judging everyone else's
at the same time.

No horse is broken in
until it's at least four years old,

so most of them
have a mind of their own.

But this is what they love
about them.

It's been the only way
to raise horses

in Iceland's harsh environment.

Their return from the mountains,
though, always brings deep relief.

When all is done, Halldor and Snorri

will lead the horses
back to the farm,

as generations have done
before them.

The land under their feet
demands respect.

And in this, of all years.

High in the central plateau,

the Bardarbunga volcano
has sprung into life.

Over a thousand earthquakes
in a single day

suggest a huge volume of molten rock
trying to reach the surface.

But where?

Fearing massive floods

should the eruption melt
the Vatnajokull glacier,

search and rescue teams evacuate
a vast area.

Hour by hour, scientists track
the earth tremors

that mark the movement of the magma.

The column of hot rock
is snaking northwards.

Eventually, it breaks through
a fissure in the plains,

just beyond the edge of the glacier.

It's big. Probably the biggest
lava eruption

that we have seen for 30 years
or so, I would guess.

As it turns out, nothing like it

has been seen on Iceland
for over 200 years.

The fissure is about
400 metres long,

but lava pours out
at nearly 300 cubic metres a second,

like a cut that won't stop bleeding.

Underneath Iceland, the
Eurasian plate is pulling eastwards

and the North American plate
is pulling westwards.

Until this eruption,
the island has been spreading apart

at two centimetres a year.

Here, it's opening up
ten times faster.

The lava is a ferocious
1,200-degrees centigrade.

It would melt even cast iron

and incinerate a human being
in seconds.

This is as close as we get to seeing
into the centre of the earth.

The ground shakes as the fissure
splits open even further,

creating a rift
that's 1.5 kilometres long.

Pumped by pressure
that's been building for centuries,

superheated gas and water
causes tonnes of lava

to fountain up to 100 metres
into the air all along its length.

These are the same monumental forces

that created Iceland
in the first place.

Over the next six months,

the lava flow covers
over 85 square kilometres.

85,000 tonnes
of poisonous sulphur dioxide

is released into
the atmosphere every day.

In 1783, an eruption on Iceland

threw up so much ash
and sulphur dioxide

that it's thought to have caused
famine on a global scale

and the deaths of
six-million people worldwide.

Miraculously, this fissure allows
the colossal pressure

under Bardarbunga
to be released slowly.

Had it gone off just
a few kilometres away,

explosively,
under the Vatnajokull glacier,

the picture would be very different.

It's the ultimate reminder
that the lives of all Icelanders

depend on the raw forces
beneath them.

A wild life,

uniquely connected
to nature, it may be,

but the remarkable people
and animals that live here

have learned how to work
with the land,

rather than fight against it.

They've taken all of
Iceland's opportunities

and challenges in their stride.

GENTLE BARK