Original subtitles

This is the third planet from the Sun.

It's not too hot for life.

It's not too cold for life. It's just right for life.

If you laid out all the life here, end to end,

it would cover the whole earth.

Which is exactly what it does.

Furry life.

Stripey life.

Life with big eyes.

Waddly life.

Miscellaneous life.

Life... Oh, life.

Oh, life.

This is the story of all that life.

This is Round Planet:

The Story of Everything.

Well, not literally everything. That would be absurd.

We've only got half an hour.

Most of Earth's surface is hiding beneath big piles of water.

And the rest is made of prawn toast.

Well, don't glower at me, Tabitha,

I'm trying to get the viewers to look up from their phones.

Anyway, in all that water, there are islands.

Jewel-like pimples on the Earth's proud blue bottom.

Miniature continents.

"Continentinos", if you will.

"Contitchnents."

"Contininents."

I got... I got dozens of these.

When life is isolated from the wider world, evolution runs riot.

Goes absolutely potty, so it does.

Full of weird and wonderful life forms.

Some that have evolved to become uniquely adapted to their surroundings.

Like this enormous tortoise.

Or these birds, slowly evolving into lilos.

Here, life has adapted to handle whatever life throws at... life.

Except a Frisbee because nothing here has yet evolved thumbs.

Brought my lovely dog, Barney, into the studio today.

You don't mind do you, Tabitha?

He's a very good boy, aren't you, Barney?

-Yes, you are.

This... is the Pacific Ocean,

where lots of islands are made.

Below the water, huge tectonic forces are on the move.

Ooh, yes. I know the feeling. I ate a whole wheel of brie last night,

and Mrs. W's at her sister's in Aviemore, and "while the cat's away," and all that.

Ha, explosions!

Golly! This isn't helping me.

Still, any smells can be blamed on the dog, I suppose.

That's rule one of canine ownership.

Volcanoes force molten rock out from the seabed and splatter it everywhere.

This is one of the most geologically active regions of the world.

It's called the Ring of Fire.

I know the feeling.

Within the Ring lie a collection of islands from Hawaii to the Galapagos.

The beauty of these islands speak for themselves.

-Barney. Shush.

He's normally so good, Tabitha. You must have spooked him.

Huh, change the page.

On the newest of these islands, life is yet to arrive,

mainly because there is still too much sea in the way.

But, like glitter on a child's card, life gets everywhere eventually.

On a slightly older island, where "slightly older" can mean

millions of years older, the first item on the menu is "salad".

Though this is technically more of a garnish at the moment,

it could eventually develop into an abundance of plant life.

The plant seeds drift for thousands and hundreds and tens of miles,

colonising wherever they can.

Like weeds on a patio in the corner, where you keep the broken trampoline.

Right now, it's a bit like sticking a cocktail umbrella in a poo poo,

but trust me, this is just the start of something amazing.

You see, most organisms on islands are forced to adapt and change

to fit their new surroundings, or they'll perish.

Evolution's not all about spreadsheets and being on time.

It likes a laugh, too.

Some of these islands have matured enough

to support some truly unique invertebrate life.

Many travelled here by air, like our film crew.

Except they didn't neck four vodkas then fall asleep watching Mad Max 2.

I prefer the original.

Some live underground, perhaps to avoid any glaring sun.

But I like to think it's just because they're shy.

Oh...

Arachnophobes, cover your eyes now.

Told you.

Ooh!

Yes, this is the small-eyed big-eyed spider.

That's his actual name.

Who said natural historians don't like a joke?

The ridiculous thing is that it doesn't even need all those eyes anymore.

It's completely dark in here.

Well, it would be, if the crew hadn't lit it for filming.

Instead of vision, it relies on the super sensitive hairs on its body.

These hairs are now so sensitive,

they can detect the tiniest vibrations in the air, like a gnat sneezing.

Oof!

The small-eyed big-eyed spider bags his small-eyed, small-brained lunch.

The perfect example of how this specimen has adapted to island life.

And, arachnophobes, you can look back...

wait for it...

Now!

In cave systems like this one...

life adapts to--

Sorry, that's Barney with his toy.

-Give, Barney. Give.

-Give.

-Give.

Yeah, no. He should keep it.

It's easier in the long run.

Small creatures like insects can fly through the air,

but how do larger creatures reach these new islands?

No, it's not like an antelope could get carried here by the breeze. It won't work.

Oh, we tested it by tying one to a hang glider;

it didn't end well.

Rafts is how.

This iguana is a kind of accidental sailor.

He might land on a fertile island. He might drown or starve at sea.

It's "drown" or "starve" almost certainly,

but you have to travel in hope, don't you?

On he sails, our iguana on a raft.

Which was absolutely not built by our researcher, Lily Butterworth.

That did not happen.

Ahem.

But what has that iguana got to look forward to?

Well, lots...

if you're a fan of steaming-hot, featureless volcanic wastelands.

And, who isn't?

This gecko certainly is.

Do that on the bus, and I guarantee the seat next to you will remain nicely empty.

There are no males on the island,

which is unconnected with the female's eyeball-licking habit.

She lays her eggs ready-fertilised, with no impregnating needed.

Huh, spoilsport.

It's a girl!

How do I know?

'Cause they're all girls.

This female mourning gecko

could populate the whole island with clones of herself if she wanted to.

You see, I think there's a big budget science fiction in that,

but them upstairs don't agree.

Of all the island groups, the Galapagos are the most unique.

Uh, I really...

I really have to pick you up on this bit of script, Tabitha.

Things are either unique or they're not.

They can't be more or less unique if they're already unique.

D-don't... don't scowl, Tabby.

I'm just pointing it out.

It was the Galapagos which inspired Charles Darwin

to develop his theory of evolution.

Here is evolution with the brakes off.

Natural selection has produced stunning mutations. This seal is so stunned by it all that it can't even sit up.

This is the blue-footed booby.

So striking that you almost don't notice the "booby" part of the name.

Almost.

They come here to mate.

And, with almost no natural predators on the island, there are loads of them.

Like feathers for peacocks,

and porsches for recently divorced cameramen,

the feet are a sexual display.

They turn blue from compounds in the fish they eat.

A well-shod booby can have his pick of the ladies.

Hey, you know what they say about a bird with blue feet:

he's good at finding food and free of parasites is what.

Ha. Yeah...

The male walks towards the female,

raising his feet and doing the "wing thing"

that all the booby pick-up artists swear by.

The female does likewise.

This is the famous booby dance.

It's not the best I've seen, but different strokes.

Join in if you know the actions.

Finally, it's time for...

Well, you get the picture.

Ah, honestly.

And he hasn't even taken his shoes off.

-Oh. No, he doesn't like that.

It's okay, Barney.

It's not a balloon. It's a frigatebird.

-Terrified of balloons, you see.

The frigatebirds have developed these distinctive gular pouches

to attract the opposite sex,

however painful that looks.

-Honestly, Barney, calm down. No.

Tabitha, there's no use taking him outside;

he'll just cry to come back in.

I'm afraid Mrs. W has spoiled him rotten. -Uh, I'll... I'll give him a biscuit.

We're just having one, Barney, because you know the vet says you have to lose weight.

Now, our cameraman, Garth, spent ages filming these.

His thinking was, "If two frigates crash into each other midair,

the sacs inflate like airbags in a car,

a sort of avian safety feature."

I did tell him it doesn't work like that, but...

there's no telling Garth Delaspong.

Lying at the intersection of several different ocean currents

means Galapagos marine life has got in on all the evolution too.

The seas are absolutely teeming with strange and wonderful creatures.

There! Barney likes sea creatures.

See, his tail's wagging now.

But one of the strangest are these:

the Galapagos penguins.

No other penguin lives as far north.

And it's unique in another way.

It's the only species of penguin to be called the Galapagos penguin.

It is quite literally a "fish out of water".

Except that the penguin is not a fish, and it is in the water.

Who wrote this

With their smaller physiques and thinner feathers,

they have adapted to live like kings in the tropics.

Warm water, plenty of food.

Life for them is one long holiday.

Ah, bully for them.

Some of us have work to do

and have to voiceover six episodes in two days.

I'm not complaining, Tabitha. You know me.

The seas may be full of food,

but when you live on a volcanic island,

you have to eat anything you can find.

Been there, done that.

FYI, never lick a lizard.

These iguanas are feasting on prickly pears.

Perhaps "feasting" is the wrong term.

"Forcing down", perhaps.

It's not all bad, though.

These prickly pears are so full of moisture

that the iguana hardly needs to drink any water at all.

And it's not the only upside to living on a volcano.

These lady-guanas have adapted

to speed up the incubation time of their eggs

by warming them on volcanic ash.

When each iggy has got up to 20 eggs to parboil,

this makes for a lot of very pushy mums. This female thinks she has found the perfect spot.

As does this one.

Well clearly they both can't park their eggs here.

Female iguanas aggressively defend their territory when nesting,

nodding their heads in what appears to be judgemental disapproval.

And it's on.

-The two iguanas battle--

Ow! Barney, bad dog. Down!

-Dash. Knocked coffee all over my leg.

-I said one biscuit, Barney. One biscuit.

No, I'll continue, Tabitha. That's what professionals do.

But can I have a kitchen towel please, darling?

Yeah, and can you run a wodge under the tap? Thank you.

Where were we?

Ah, yes.

Not all iguanas like it high and dry.

These ones like it way down and wet.

They're called marine iguanas,

and the Galapagos is the only place they live in the world.

They are the only modern lizard that forages in the sea.

So, like the Galapagos penguins, they are unique.

Millions of years ago, when food on the islands became scarce,

some iguanas took to the water.

The weak swimmers drowned.

The strong swimmers survived.

Eventually, they became a new species.

The largest marine iguanas can dive for up to 25 metres to eat marine algae.

And can hold their breath for up to 30 minutes.

It's like a scene from a Japanese monster movie but without the clunky moral about nuclear war.

These iguanas ingest a potentially lethal level of salt in their diet.

But unlike some of us,

they don't have to take four types of tablet to control it.

Why?

They've evolved a gland connected to the nostrils that removes the salt,

which is then expelled from the body with this, uh...

delightful sneeze.

She won't thank me for mentioning it,

but Tabitha was like that when that cold went round.

Well, you were, Tabby.

Tabby, I had to wipe it off my neck.

Undeterred by the salty snot,

this charming Sally Lightfoot crab

enjoys feasting on flaky iguana skin, and helps keep it free of parasites.

And the iguana gets a free head massage.

So, the marine iguanas evolved to fit island life perfectly.

Well, until these sea lions turned up and ruined the pool party.

Unlike the iguanas,

sea lions didn't evolve into their ocean-going lifestyle just yesterday.

They've been catching waves for almost as long as the Beach Boys.

Now, every time these iguanas fancy a dip,

they have to run the gauntlet past a gang of honking sea lions.

It's a tough life,

but it's probably better than having to eat cactus every night for dinner.

These sea lions spend their day lounging in the sun and cooling off in the sea.

In fact, it was after observing their behaviour

that Charles Darwin coined the term "chillaxing."

-I'm just adding some colour, Tabby.

She's such a pedant.

Each group of sea lions consists of a harem of females

and a dominant male called a "bull,"

or sometimes just "the daddy".

This bull faces a challenge by a young pretender.

The young lion may challenge his elder, but he finds that an older chap

still knows a few things and can see off any whippersnappers, thank you very much.

Battle over, the bull heads back to the beach,

where the females are pleased to see him

and won't make a fuss about how he ate a little bit of brie from the fridge.

Now, evolution wouldn't be possible without,

and pardon my franglais, procreation.

Back on the islands,

one species makes sure only the best traits get passed on.

And if something's worth doing, it's worth doing slowly.

The Galapagos's most famous land resident is the giant tortoise.

Each year, they climb the volcano for two reasons.

The first is food, and the second is for--

Well, take it from me; it isn't the view.

These remarkable reptiles arrived here from South America

two to three million years ago, hoping for a better life.

And they finally evolved to cope

with the challenging conditions of their new home.

I say "challenging."

Some people might call it a "stinking volcanic dust bucket."

This tortoise is 1.3 metres long,

which is like ten normal tortoises laid end to end,

or 16 squirrels cubed.

It's actually quite annoying that there's nothing in frame to compare these to.

I mean, they could just be normal tortoises filmed up close,

but they're not, you'll have to trust me.

They are absolutely gigantic.

Reaching the volcano top is a real test of their stamina.

Only the fittest will make it.

As it gets to the finishing line,

the tortoise gives its equivalent of a victory dance.

Well, a sort of victory neck stretch.

Yeah, and a victory croak.

Delightful.

I had that as my ringtone actually.

It wasn't... terribly popular.

Then it's time for a special tortoise hug.

This can go on for up to six hours.

Which is good, because there's not much to do on this island

other than watch lizards blow snot about.

The underside of the male shell is concave,

which helps him engage in a marathon bout of reptilian spoonage.

A beautiful sight...

unless you are watching in certain territories,

where the last two minutes have been pixelated.

Ha, six hours.

Those were the days, my friend.

For me, there is no better symbol than the giant tortoise

of the way life on these magical islands has evolved,

against all the odds, to survive and thrive.

It doesn't matter if you're a saline-spitting lizard,

an absolute booby,

a living Whoopy Cushion,

a Scuba diving lizard,

or an ice-shirking penguin.

Evolution is working like the clappers here,

creating new species,

each better adapted to its environment.

Which is why, when we come back here for series two,

and I finally get paid the going rate,

we expect to be filming a race of super evolved,

hyper-intelligent sea lion-spider-tortoise hybrids

intent on world domination.

Wow, is he really still going?

No. No, he's done. Do you want to say "goodbye", Barney?

"Goodbye," yeah?

Oh, he won't bark now.

Not now I want him to.

-He wants to shake hands though.

Heh, well, they can't see that.

Silly sausage.