Original subtitles

♪♪

Of all the billions of planets in the universe,

this planet, the Earth planet, is the only one with cameras.

Here and possibly only here,

the struggle of planet against planet

is enriched by the struggle of life.

This planet is our planet,

and this is its story.

This... is Round Planet:

The Story Of Everything.

How was that

♪♪

Penguins... the natural world’s answer to Charlie Chaplin.

They only have to waddle about and children smile...

...and so do I, because they look like sozzled nuns.

While the rest of nature is chock full of murder and mayhem,

penguins are on an island of sweet-natured tap dancing, adorable cuteness.

Right?

Wrong!

These waddling tough nuts are some of the hardest squid botherers

on this whole darn planet.

Of the 17 species that exist,

most endure conditions that would kill any other bird you could name,

like a chicken or a woody woodpecker. Putting up with the windiest waves...

...and the waviest winds,

the gnarliest neighbours, and the powerfullest predators,

this incredibly adaptable family of half bird, half fish things,

have colonised swathes of the Southern Hemisphere against all the odds.

"Penguins... Born Survivors."

Huh, I know how they feel. The BBC haven’t killed me off yet,

hmm, not for want of trying.

Anyway, where were we?

Mmm...

The Antarctic... the loveliest place I’ve ever lost a toe.

It wasn’t frostbite. Cameraman Garth De La Spong dropped an ice pick on it,

cut it clean off.

♪♪

It’s autumn, and the sea ice is expanding

at up to 150,000 square kilometres a day.

But not that fast... We’ve sped that up obviously.

We have, haven’t we, Tabitha? Uh...

Anyway, it’s now so arse-numbingly, ball-achingly cold

that most of the animals who live here in summer have wimped off to warmer climes.

But one sub-zero superhero is staying right here to tough it out.

♪♪

These hard nuts are the emperor penguins,

just when king penguins thought they had the best name.

At over a metre tall,

the emperors are the largest penguins on the round planet,

♪♪

weighing up to 40 kilograms, half the weight of an average man...

...like myself.

No laughing, Tabitha.

No, I can’t hear through the glass, but I saw your shoulders move.

The penguin’s paunch is essential if he is to survive the winter.

♪♪

But gaining the grams has given this gentleman mobility issues.

Don’t worry. Nobody saw, mate...

...well, except me, Tabitha,

and a surprising number of cable subscribers in Brazil.

Ola to you all.

♪♪

The emperors are heading inland to their breeding grounds

up to 120 kilometres away,

which is a long way when you walk like a wind-up toy...

...rather like me with my nine toes. Still, I just muddle on.

This is their destination,

which is handy because that’s where we put the cameras.

As soon as they arrive, these likely lads swagger off on the pull.

Their technique is best described as fast and efficient.

No shame in that, I say.

A short time later, the egg arrives.

Incubation is not the female’s job.

She passes the egg to the male,

thereby crushing his hopes, dreams, and feet.

Which reminds me... the toe.

Luckily, it was a clean cut

and we had just enough morphine and brandy to kill the pain and serve it up.

They actually saved it in the BBC tape box.

And then we staggered on making Empire Of The Cod.

The emperor mums are heading off for a long lunch,

whilst the dads are about to endure two months of continuous night

in the coldest, darkest, windiest place on our round planet.

It’s their job to babysit the eggs until the missus gets back.

She hopes she can trust him to remember that one thing.

They huddle together like an oversized rugby scrum.

But luckily, they won’t have to stick their heads between each other’s legs

or drink a pint of their own urine.

Never did me any harm!

Two long months later, and here’s the sun.

♪♪

They’ve forgotten what it looks like...

...as have I, trapped in this tiny voiceover prison...

for seven hours, trapped, snackless.

No, I don’t think it is off topic, Tabitha.

Anyway, right behind the sun are the ladies.

They soar towards the surface like they’ve got a rocket up the jacksy.

It’s almost like cameraman Garth was floating at the bottom

making angry whale noises to get a good shot...

...not that we’d dream of it, obviously.

With a belly full of seafood,

it’s time for Mrs. Emperor to nip home and see what hubby’s been up to.

He’s been through the ringer, to be honest,

but chin up, lads. Your missus is back.

This is what he’s been dreaming of

through the long, long winter months that were ever so long.

A graceful waddle. A charming beak.

The pair greet each other with ecstatic head nodding.

He has not seen an adult female in months.

Making one from snow was no substitute.

♪♪

And there’s someone he’d like the female to meet...

A baby! A little baby. Oh, that is so cute. Oh, look at that!

Dad has spent the whole winter sitting on him.

And don’t write in because for penguins, that counts as excellent parenting.

It’s time for mum to take over childcare.

Dad’s got his ways of doing things... routines.

Would mum like him to explain? No, she can handle it.

Little Bubba is ready to move on to solids, and luckily, mum’s prepared a delicious feast

of regurgitated krill, fish, and squid.

Yes, uh... not bad, once you get used to it.

It’s all about managing expectations, really.

While the emperor males have sat through the Antarctic winter,

and they’re busy telling anyone who listens just how tough it was,

another species of flipperised birds is only now returning to land.

♪♪

These Adélie penguins have spent the last few months

freezing their feathery behinds off on ice floes far out at sea.

But now, they’re back, to spend some time

freezing their feathery behinds off on land instead.

Well, a change is as good as a rest.

They’re in a hurry to get their breeding season underway.

Unlike the emperors, these clever clogs don’t keep the egg warm

by sticking it under their shorts.

They build nests.

It’s all about location, location, location.

And what could be more desirable

than this barren stretch of featureless no mans’ land?

South facing garden, plenty of light, all original materials...

Everything’s perfect.

Just don’t mention the neighbours.

Huh, did you see that? Blatant theft.

But this honest nest builder doesn’t suspect a thing.

Yeah, I’d watch him up there on the horizon if I were you, mate.

Guard your... Oh... Too late, he’s off again.

Get your own stones, you lazy so and so!

Think your wife is proud of you, do you?

It’s the penguin version of Neighbours From Hell,

and just like a row in Surbiton over the placement of a leylandii,

things soon escalate.

Ho, ho, ho, ho. Look at them... proper little slap fight.

But you may imagine some scary fight music there,

but come on, scrapping penguins are just even more adorable, aren’t they?

Look at them. I could watch hours of this.

But it’s time for these gents to cool off...

...not just metaphorically, because violence solves nothing,

but also literally, because there’s a massive storm coming in...

...with a wind chill factor of... Cripes! I can no longer feel my face.

These winds are the coldest and most ferocious on the planet.

I don’t know how they cope, I really don’t.

I can still feel the cold from my trip there, even in my missing toe.

I get what they call phantom chilblains,

but it’s nothing compared to what these guys put up with.

Oh, we’ve got a spare bit of time.

Mmm, might have a drop of sherry.

Eventually the storm subsides,

and just in time. The girls are back in town.

Way hey!

And now it’s time for a little bit of How’s Your Feather.

Uh, uh, uh, you can have that. You can use that.

And before you can say "nuns on the run," eggs are laid and left with the males,

while the females scarper.

Yes, they’re off for another long lunch and a dip.

Unfortunately, someone else is joining them...

...the rather aptly named killer whale.

Except they’re not whales, they’re technically dolphins,

but the killer part is true.

The penguins are out of that sea quicker than you can say,

"Oh no, it’s a whale."

They know what’s what, and they’re not mucking about.

Well, it looks as if they’re mucking about, but trust me, they’re not.

This penguin has been separated from the others,

So, she tries a clever plan...

...hiding from the whale by diving in the water...

...where the whale is.

But not to worry...

These orcas are looking for something bigger and tastier.

We saw some killer whales when we went filming Empire Of The Cod,

the same day the tape box containing my toe went missing

and I couldn’t find it anywhere.

These a-list predators know how to up the ante when working as a team.

They create a kind of Mexican Antarctic wave

to knock this Weddell seal off its perch.

And it works.

One of them tries to grab the seal by the tail and drown it

while the rest of his mates blow bubbles for cover.

Ooh... Ooh, I can hardly watch, but I have to, you see.

It’s my job.

Our film crew didn’t want to intervene,

not just because of their deep respect for nature’s ways,

but because they didn’t want to get eaten by a killer whale.

Nor does this exhausted seal. Gut-wrenchingly sad, I know.

But if Disney’s classic The Lion King has taught us anything,

it’s that the circle of life keeps turning.

The Lion King Two, the straight-to-video one, I didn’t really care for.

These Adélie chicks are hatching.

If only they knew what kind of a life they were in for,

they’d probably crawl back in.

There are now about 500,000 penguins in their colony,

which means as a whole, they have a better chance of survival.

This also leaves the individual penguin struggling

against feelings of insignificance.

Who are they

Should they spend their premium bond windfall on a conservatory,

or blow it on a bottle of 1787 Chateau Lafite?

Life is so complicated.

Meanwhile, or possibly later,

and maybe even earlier, further north on the island of South Georgia,

the king penguin is emerging from its own winter.

Everyone gets out in the end... just not me.

Tabitha, are you listening? Ugh...

A quick time lapse later,

and finally, spring is here.

The king penguins hit the beach looking to match and hatch.

South Georgia’s answer to Miami comes to life,

packed with pingoos walking on the beaches looking at the peaches.

But this beach, like Miami, draws in all sorts,

Including these rather large elephant seals.

This well-stuffed fella is known as the beach master.

I rather like that term.

His harem contains 50 females,

meaning he’s constantly challenged by other jealous males.

I wonder if people have ever called me beach master?

Tabitha, don’t shake your head! Oh...

First, they size each other up.

Then, It’s time to take the conversation outside...

...or, to the other bit of outside.

Each elephant seal weighs about four tons, about the same as an elephant elephant.

They face off like two slugs...

...if slugs stood up, which they absolutely do not.

Then, bam!

The two lumbering blubbernauts do their best

to get the better of their rival wobbleslob.

This is not what the king penguins were hoping for on their beach holiday,

but in an almost British way, they studiously ignore the rather unseemly spat

and politely talk about the weather.

With a mighty bellow, he sees off his rival.

The beach master has proven his mettle and gets the last laugh.

♪♪

With the fight over, the king penguins drift away to get their fun elsewhere.

And what fun they must have had,

because by summer, the beach is covered in fuzzy little king penguin chicks,

chirping like good ‘uns.

Returning with food, each parent must recognise the cry of its offspring

in a crowd of 400,000.

♪♪

No creature looks better in crowds...

...like the bird version of a shoal of fish,

or the fish version of a flock of birds.

I wonder if it’ll make a big picture of a penguin or something.

No... No, just scribble.

I might see something in Arabic, but I’m not really au fait.

Anyway, now we’re up in the air.

Let’s drift across the ocean to another perilous, penguinous place.

Here, just off the coast of the Falkland Islands,

there’s a bunch of penguins who have to brave the wildest seas

on our round planet.

But the gentoo make riding these bodacious waves

look like water off a penguin’s back.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to spoil their fun...

...apart, maybe, from this hungry sea lion.

Maybe he just wants to play... with his food.

Buoyed up by a breaking wave,

the sea lion chases the gentoo onto the shore like a blubber-seeking missile...

...just a very slow one.

There’s no way this little fellow is going to get out of this.

Oh, he has! Ah, I knew he would.

Well, there’s absolutely no way this chap’s going to catch him again.

Oh, he has. Sorry, little fellow. It’s game over now.

There’s no way on earth you’re going to get away this time.

Oh, he’s escaped! I knew he would!

Yes, I... I’ve got a real feel for this stuff, yeah.

This creature has got more lives than a cat...

...which has used up seven of its nine lives.

Whenever I think of me with my nine toes, I think... I think of the penguin, Tabby,

and, um, what they put up with on a daily basis, and I find strength in that.

Mmm, I finally managed to find my toe, you know?

Yeah, Garth was using it to level his tripod,

and now it resides on my mantelpiece pickled in a jar,

a reminder of just how hard things can get.

The penguins know what I’m talking about.

They know life’s a tall order,

but they’re taller.

They’ve colonised the Southern Hemisphere, and they can’t even fly.

I mean, really they should learn, but give them time.

♪♪

Versatile, cunning, and tough as old boots,

they are clearly not as daft as they look.

Yes, they wear the clown’s mask, and his feet too,

but they’re waddling to victory.