All language subtitles for Alaska Spirit of the Wild IMAX 1997 108 0p BluRay EN Sub

Earth, 18,000 years
before the present

it's a world locked in cold

at the height
of the last great Ice Age.

Across tens
of thousands of years

unmelting snows have compacted
into massive glaciers.

Buried under ice sheets
averaging a mile thick

are lands where
hundreds of millions live today.

As Earth's water
is increasing locked up in ice

sea levels plummet
more than a hundred meters.

Exposed sea floor nearly joins
Australia to Southeast Asia

Japan becomes part
of mainland Asia.

Across North America,
ice fields and glaciers

envelop all of Canada
and northernmost United States.

As the Ice Age spreads,
Alaska emerges as a crossroads.

Off it's Bering sea coastline

the retreating ocean
exposes a great land bridge

a thousand miles wide
connecting Asia to America.

Across this corridor, a river
of living creatures would flow.

It was the genesis
of a great wave of life

that would inhabit the Americas,
and this was it's Eden.

Crossing into ancient Alaska

migrating herds find new forage
and sheltering valleys

but they're followed from Asia
by fierce carnivore...

saber-toothed cats, giant bears

and the greatest
of all predators.

They arrive
in small bands from Siberia

pressing east in pursuit of game

unaware they're discovering
a continent.

The hunters are sustained
by bison, moose, woolly mammoth

and the wild reindeer
called caribou.

Where frozen tundra
limits vegetation, meat is life.

Most of the year,
it is kill or starve.

The hunters prosper here
across millennia

but as the receding Ice Age

opens the wall of glaciers
to the south

most move on with the herds

into the virgin continents
beyond.

Their descendants will become
Apache and Sioux, Aztec and Maya

Inca and Amazonian.

Yet some remain in Alaska.

For them, this is a world of
mysterious forces and spirits.

To science,
the Aurora Borealis is created

by streams of charged particles
from the sun

colliding with the atmosphere.

To some Native Americans,
the Northern Lights

were children not yet born
at play in the heavens.

Here at the far edges
of existence

the wildness
of the ancient earth

never vanished.

Even today,
the solitude of the past

is broken only occasionally
by the sound of the present.

In Alaska,
the last great Ice Age survives.

Vast regions appear as lifeless
as a frozen planet.

Sheer walls a mile deep
loom as monuments to the power

of the glaciers
which carved them.

Most of its rugged terrain
can be crossed only with wings.

Massive snowfalls
compress glacial ice

so dense in some places

only a single color
of the spectrum is reflected...

an ethereal blue...

chilling
and strangely beautiful.

Where the frozen rivers end

icebergs are born
in a spectacle so mighty

native tribes call it
"While Thunder"

Some blocks are the size
of 30-story buildings.

It would seem a place
too hostile for living things

but each year, after a winter
that can last nine months

Alaska erupts with life.

Hundreds of thousands of birds

stream here
from as far away as Antarctica

to breed in Alaska's
protected cliffs and coves

and to feed on it's rich seas.

For one brief season
of abundance

life flourishes.

Ice-falls turn to waterfalls.

Grasses emerge, fueled by up
to 24 hours of sunlight a day.

Animals hurry
to store up nutrients

before winter returns.

Without the plenty
of the warm season

life couldn't survive
the long months of bitter cold.

Famished from half a year
of hibernation

even the lordly brown bear

is content to graze in spring

sharing the meadows with caribou
too fleet to be caught.

As bellies fill, play begins.

There is
other business conducted

in the fields of fresh grass...

the age-old rite of spring.

They will remain a couple
for only a day or two

sharing a rough affection.

Bear hugs will lead
to the conception of new life

to be born
in the hibernation den

in the dead of winter.

A world of extremes

Alaska is swept
by enormous tidal fluctuations.

Low tide can drain an entire bay
like a bathtub.

Taking advantage
of the low tides

brown bears roam
the exposed tidal flats.

To dig for clams.

Any protein is welcome
in the effort

to replenish a body
that can weigh 1,400 pounds.

Perhaps noticing the success

of mother and cub,
an imitator arrives.

But clamming is not
as easy as it looks.

For a red fox, survival is,
in part, knowing when to give up

and just move on.

As summer's warmth deepens

Alaska's three million lakes
turn to gathering places.

Beavers prepare

for the ravages
of cold weather ahead

by repairing their lodges.

Moose feast
on tender aquatic plants

hidden on lake bottoms.

Wolf pups gorge on mother's milk

to reach near-adult size
before winter arrives.

But the serenity of summer

can be shattered
by the approach of an intruder.

The black bear
has a fearsome reputation

but it's the most playful
of bear species

and with the coast clear
and the water cool

even a bear may succumb

to the impulse
merely to have fun.

Life along the coast, too,
is eased by the warm season.

After a winter battered
by North Pacific storms

sea lion colonies haul out
to sun themselves

like vacationers enjoying
a day at the beach.

A game of King of the Mountain
ensues.

In the world of sea lions,
size matters...

but patience succeeds.

Ungainly on shore,
the sea lion moves in the sea

with the ease
of a circus performer...

both acrobat and clown.

Like its meadows, Alaska's seas
bloom with fertility

under the lengthening daylight.

So rich are the waters

humpback whales swim nearly
4,000 miles from Hawaii

to revel in Alaska's
season of abundance.

Humpbacks fast for eight months

in the relatively sparse waters
of the tropics

where they breed and give birth.

For survival, they depend
almost entirely upon the krill

and small fish
that concentrate here in summer.

To capture
the immense quantities

of food they need

some humpbacks have devised
an extraordinary technique

of cooperative feeding.

Diving in unison

they surround
a school of herring

while one or more
sings a ritual feeding song.

Simultaneously, a whale blows
a circular net of bubbles

around the fish.

Then, as the trap is completed

the entire group rockets upward
through the bubble bath.

Each species
finds a way to survive.

Humpbacks have learned to invent

and, more importantly,
to cooperate.

In summer,
a miracle arrives from the sea

in wave after wave

salmon return
from the open ocean

and embark
on a final migration inland

to spawn in the same streams
of their birth.

Silver bodies transfiguring
for the act of spawning...

a phenomenal sense of smell
guiding them...

they sweep into Alaska
by the millions

in a vast flood of life.

They face a marathon
journey upstream

sometimes hundreds
of miles long

yet they persist

even in the face
of impossible obstacles.

For brown bears,
the arrival of salmon

is the most important
feeding event of the year.

It's the last opportunity
to add the bulk they need

for the months
of winter hibernation ahead.

Dominant bears claim
the best fishing spots.

Such confrontations are
rarely bloody.

Size is power.

The subordinate merely finds
another spot.

Bears are not born
with fishing skills.

Each develops
a highly specialized

style of fishing.

There's the scanner

and the apprentice scanner.

The pouncer.

The submariner.

Easily distracted.

The snatcher.

For the submariner

the key is not to be graceful
but persistent.

Most bear fish singly
and selfishly.

Only a mother shares her catch.

For some, greed prompts
its own style of fishing...

the mugger.

The salmon banquet is brief.

Nothing is wasted.

Many feed, but with hibernation
time approaching

none more urgently than bear.

To store up fat,
bears may fish 20 hours a day.

Large males can put
on 300 pounds.

Success in the world
of the brown bear

is a simple matter of reaching
one's sleeping weight.

Some reach it a little too soon.

For salmon that make it past
the gauntlet of predators

time is running out.

Powerful instincts have brought
them back

to lay and fertilize the eggs
of the next generation.

Only one of a hundred born here
have survived to perform

this final act

and in giving life,
all will die.

Their eggs will develop
beneath the ice of winter

in water enriched

by their parents'
decaying bodies

turning loss to renewal,
ending to beginning.

After as few
as six weeks of warmth

the air grows chilly.

Summer visitors head south
to escape the fierce cold ahead.

The first snowfall
can arrive in August.

Now Alaska's animals must employ
every instinct and adaptation

for winter survival.

As many as 4,000 eagles
gather along the Chilkat River

in the southeast

the largest known congregation
of bald eagles in the world.

Though most Alaskan rivers
freeze

geothermal heat
keeps the Chilkat open

enabling the eagles to feed

on the river's unusually late
salmon run.

Somehow, bald eagles know
to return late each fall

to the one place that will help
ensure their survival.

One Alaskan animal actually
yearns for the onset of winter.

Where most creatures would
perish from exposure

polar bears thrive.

Their body heat is preserved
by thick fat

and an insulating fur
of translucent, hollow hairs.

The summer breakup
of offshore ice

has marooned them on land

where they can't hunt
their favorite prey

the ringed seal.

For now, they survive
only on stored fat

and buried seaweed
and wait patiently

for the sea to freeze over
so the hunt can resume.

Some males while away the time
in friendly play-fighting.

For a female and her youngster
the long wait is a time

of both motherly affection
and danger for the cubs.

Despite the fierce protection
of mothers

fewer than half survive
their first year.

Accidents and starvation
are persistent threats

but she must also avoid
her own kind.

Male polar bears will eat
unprotected cubs.

Few mothers in all of nature
are as devoted as a polar bear.

Cubs learn early
to obey her commands.

Finally, the sea freezes over.

The season of waiting
and fasting ends.

With their extraordinary
sense of smell

they can detect a seal
20 miles away.

The feast of winter
is about to begin.

Elsewhere in Alaska

a time of darkness
and scarcity arrives.

Caribou migrating
to wintering grounds

scrape beneath the snow
day or night

for moss and sedge grass.

Searching for food

they're vulnerable
to hungry predators.

For a family of wolves

prey are easier to track
in snow.

With jaws powerful enough

to crush
the caribou's largest bones

they will leave little behind.

For a species
that must cooperate

to survive, rivalries are brief

the leader's dominance
nearly absolute.

As the full fury of winter
envelops Alaska

temperatures can reach
50 below zero or lower.

Elk have learn to change
their diet in winter

to feed on only the highest
protein forage available.

Yet it is a harsh time
for yearlings.

Half will not make it.

Bison, protected by shaggy hair
over head and shoulders

also grow a special winter fur

to cover their hindquarters.

The musk ox is outfitted
with broad hooves

to walk on snow

and a winter undercoat
of cashmere-like wool

softer than a lamb's
and impervious to the cold.

Alaska's last horned survivor

of the Pleistocene Age

it embodies the resiliency
and adaptability of life

in it's battle
with the elements.

Humans, too, have adapted
to the land of winter.

Called "Eskimos" by outsiders

descended from peoples who
crossed the ice age land bridge

the Inupiat learned to use every
resource in their frozen desert.

For food,
they turned to the sea.

Still today, they watch
for arriving bowhead whales.

If the Inupiat
have been respectful

they believe a whale will
give itself to them as a gift.

The hunt,
sanctioned by international law

is a sacred ritual
to the Inupiats.

Hauling in it's body

they thank the whale

for the gift
of life-sustaining nourishment

to combat the piercing cold.

For other humans, the cold
has posed a mortal threat

recorded dramatically
in images of another age.

In 1897, one of history's
largest gold strikes

drew
a quarter-million "stampeders"

through the snowbound passes
of Alaska

towards the gold fields
of the Klondike.

Anticipating easy wealth

they trudged headlong
into an Ice Age.

Half the prospectors would never
even reach the gold fields.

Arriving ships were
marooned eight months by ice.

Many attempted to make
the journey with pack horses.

The animals died
by the thousands.

Hundreds of men died
from exposure

or were buried alive
in avalanches.

Of the quarter million who came,
perhaps 400 struck it rich.

Yet some who failed to find
easy wealth were inspired

by the challenges
of this new land.

Like waves of others
across the ages

they adapted to Alaska
and stayed on.

Five, four, three,
two, one... go.

Before a crowed
that includes descendants

of those "stampeders"

dog sled teams set out
from Anchorage each year

to commemorate the Gold Rush

in a thousand-mile race
known worldwide as the Iditarod.

In the defiant spirit of Alaska

winter's harsh challenges
are turned to rugged sport.

Each year,
as the warm season approaches

the vast spectacle
of life's resiliency

unfolds again in Alaska.

The days lengthen,
grasses reemerge

and along stream bottoms

the promise of the future
is renewed.

Mere glimmers of life now

salmon hatchlings
will soon depart

to return years hence
and nourish Alaska

as a miracle of summer
that sustains life in winter.

It's a land of countless streams

and mountain peaks
still unnamed

a place shaped
by ice and solitude.

In Alaska, we are witnesses
to the triumph of life itself.

Here, we can rediscover
a vitality

vanishing from our lives

and reawaken
the spirit of the wild

remembered not in our minds,
but in the blood and the heart.

Whether or not
we will ever reach Alaska

we all want to know
that such a place still exists.