All language subtitles for Creatures Of The Thaw Wild Asia Bluray 1080p BYTECOPY EN srt_Subtitles01.ENG

Fresh water is the very essence of Life.

Yet seventy per cent of
the earth's supply

is locked up as ice and
snow in the Arctic and Antarctic:

frozen for all four seasons,

forever denied to the world's plants
and animals that thirst for it.

Most of Asia escapes
the Arctic's icy year-round grip.

The fresh water imprisoned in winter
is always released in spring.

Over millions of years,

the annual surge of
melting ice and snow

has shaped the land
and nurtured life.

In North East Japan,
some of Asia's cherry salmon

have adapted to cold winters
and short warm summers.

Instead of migrating to
the ocean to grow,

they spend all their lives
in the freshwater rivers

where they were born.

The cranes of Hokkaido also
remain throughout the winter,

finding the food they need
amid the ice and snow.

The creatures of North East Asia
such as cherry salmon and cranes

have adapted to the freshwater habitats
created by the melting ice and snow.

They are the CREATURES of the THAW.

Winters in North East Asia
are so cold,

fresh water all but disappears.

Most creatures leave.

But some have learned to
eke out an existence.

Shika Deer use the ice as
a shortcut to the few waterholes

that are not completely frozen over.

To survive, they chew bark,
even though it's hard to digest.

The Whooper Swans have
flown thousands of miles

to escape an even harsher winter
in Siberla.

Where rivers still flow,
life can survive the freeze.

The swans look for havens
where springs keep water ice free

and where they can
feed on aduatic plants.

From December to March,

surface temperatures on the marshes
rarely struggle above freezing.

But natural springs ensure
that the temperatures

in some ponds are
never guite as cold

and this is where
the Ezo Brown Frog finds refuge.

Unblinking, the frog looks dead.

İt is dormant, its metabolic rate
slowed almost to a standstill

on hold until the spring.

The young cherry salmon
spend their first winter

in the headwaters
near the mountain slopes,

where the water flows
too gulckly to freeze.

They can tolerate temperatures
close to freezing and like the frogs,

they shut their systems down for
winter-stirring occasionally for food.

The Japanese call
the young cherry salmon yamame,

which means Beauty of the Mountains.

They're found only in the rivers of
Japan and North East Asia.

Even when air temperatures are

well below freezing
natural springs prevent

some rivers from icing over.

The waters much warmer than
the surrounding air and it steams.

At night the Japanese cranes roost
in midstream,

safe from surprise attacks
by its predator, the red fox.

The cranes will stay in the river
until the middle of the morning,

waiting for the warming sun.

Upstream, some of the yamame
are beginning to stir.

During their first winter,
the yamame appear identical.

They have grown up to
eight or nine inches long

and their flanks are
now beautifully patterned.

But depending on how much food
they find in the river,

and on the genetic structure
each fish has inherited,

they will grow to maturity in
one of two remarkably different ways.

For the moment,
all the yamame face a common enemy.

Hunting opportunities for
the Crested King Fisher

are limited to
the stretches of the river

where the rapid flow or a spring
keeps the waters free from ice.

Yamame are a key part of
their winter diet.

The pin-point accuracy of
the Kingfisher's dive means

that altthough many yamame hatch,
many fewer survive the winter.

The cranes wait until the sun is
well up before they leave the river.

They will spend the warmest part
of the day looking for food,

returning when the temperatures
start to fall.

Their favourite winter feeding grounds
are the farms near the river,

where they may find
beneath the snow stubble

left from the autumn harvest.

Kindliy farmers also
leave out food for them.

Japanese Cranes are
an endangered species.

There are only seven hundred
in northern Japan

and a further thousand in
parts of Russia and China.

The people of Japan and China

believe the cranes live for
a thousand years.

The birds are icons:

symbols of happiness and long life.

They pair for life and are
constantly reaffirming their bonds.

They begin their
courtship rituals even

before the breeding season begins

a tender two-step that
heralds the coming of spring.

Slowly, winter yields.

İn April, further north
in the centre of Siberia,

the world's largest store
of freshwater,

Lake Baikal, begins its majestic thaw.

Lake Baikal is almost
four hundred miles long

and its surface area is huge
almost the size of Switzerland.

The transformation from
solid ice three feet deep

to open water starts in the south

and moves north at an average rate
of twelve miles a day.

The remarkable Lake Baikal
is more than a mile deep

and holds a fifth of the earth's
entire supply of liguid fresh water.

The thaw is
a trigger of transformation

for the Lake's animals.

Lake Baikal is home to

the only freshwater seals
in the world, the Nerpa.

At less than three feet long,
they're also one of the smallest.

When mothers give
birth in February and March,

the ice acts as a cradle for the pups.

The arrival of the thaw means

they no longer have
a safe resting place.

The thaw is the time
when the pups are weaned.

First they moult their baby fur,

then they start
finding their own food

in the lake's unusually clear waters.

The thaw transforms
the marshes of North East Asia.

Warmed by the strengthening sun,

the waters from the melting ice
and snow evaporate.

Mists and gentle rain soften buds
hardened for winter.

Among the first to open its flowers

is one of the most common plants
on the wetlands-the willow.

Over a few short weeks the freshwater

that has been locked up as ice
and snow is released.

The melting snow and spring rain
fills the rivers to overflowing.

The soil cannot absorb
all the snow melt,

and water floods
across the marshlands.

The waters help soften the soil
and encourage new growth.

Times are now easier for the Shika Deer.

No longer do
they have to gnaw on hard bark.

İnstead they dig for roots
in the yielding soil,

and they'li feast
on the spring growth.

When the flooding rivers recede,
they leave waterholes.

Ezo Brown Frogs
interrupt their wintering

to spawn in the shallow water.

İt's still too cold for them
to find food,

but by laying their eggs now,

the frogs give their tadpoles
the best chance of maturing

before winter returns.

The breeding ritual begins with the
male frogs calling to attract females.

A successful coupling starts

when the male grabs the female
in a tight grip.

A larger male who tries to
take over is sharply rebuffed...

but doesn't give up easily.

The firm embrace of
the male helps the female

to release her eggs and as
they leave her body he fertilises them.

The female has laid about
a thousand eggs.

The timing of the spawning is critical.

The frogs need the water
to be shallow enough to

allow the eggs to be
warmed by the sun,

yet sufficiently deep not to
dry out before the eggs hatch

usually in about ten days.

This breeding of the frogs in spring
is crucial to other creatures.

At night a formidable predator emerges.

For most of the year the Fish Owl
is true to its name.

But in Spring, when frogs
are plentiful and easy to catch,

they are its primary food.

While temperatures remain low,

there's not much else
for the cranes to eat.

Each bird weighs up
to twenty pounds

and needs a large amount of
food just to keep going.

The cranes have returned to
the marshes to breed,

and the frogs are
a precious source of nutrition

for the female before
she lays her eggs.

This pair have claimed
a corner of the marshlands

and prepared their nest from reeds.

They already have one egg,

and in a day or two may
have a second.

The eggs take about
thirty days to incubate

and the male and female share the task.

Though, in most ways,

the cranes are supremely adapted to
their wetland environment,

their nests are
vulnerable to rising water.

To protect their eggs
from the chilling floods

that can follow heavy rains,

they constantliy build up
the sides of their nests.

The thawing waters of spring are
the defining time for the yamame.

There's not enough food in the river
to support them all.

The most powerful males occupy
the best feeding territorles,

driving off all rivals.

By winning the competition for food,

the strong males
have selected themselves

as the yamame most suited to survive
in the relative safety of the river.

The best prospects for the other males

and all the female yamame will
lie in heading downstream

to the river mouth and
growing to maturity at sea.

During the two or three months it
takes them to reach the coast,

their physiology is
transformed in preparation

for their new life in salt water.

By the time they reach the river mouth

the patterns on their flanks are fading,

their skin has turned to silver,

and the tip of their dorsal fin
turns black.

The losers in the battle for
survival in fresh water

take their chances in the even more
competitive saltwater environment.

The dangers of the ocean will be

much greater than
those in the river,

but so too will be the food resources.

At the same time as
the departing yamame go to sea,

the salmon who have
survived one year at sea

come back to the river to breed.

The Japanese call
the returning fish sakura-masu,

or cherry salmon,
after the cherry blossom,

which flowers in early spring.

Less than ten per cent of
those who go to sea survive.

But because of the plentiful food
they've enjoyed in the ocean

they're now twenty
to thirty times larger than

the yamame who drove them
from the river.

As the female cherry salmon
return to freshwater,

the parasite worms
that have infested them at sea die,

but battle scars
from skirmishes with seals remain.

There's no respite.

For all the cherry salmon,

the three-month journey upstream to

their birthplace
will be fraught with dangers.

Their first obstacle
is perhaps the easiest.

The brown bears are too clumsy
and the cherry salmon far

too nimble to make them an easy catch.

The salmon head instinctively up river,

irresistibly drawn by the scent of
the waters where they were born.

As the season turns
from spring to summer,

Asia's freshwater rivers, lakes,
and marshes really come alive.

When the waters levels recede,

new growth claims
the silt-rich riverbanks.

Each spring thaw leaves a legacy of
new habitats created from the silt

and gravel swept downstream
by the snow melt.

Willows spread their seeds over
the riverside like snow.

The rising temperatures and
drying air open the hard seed-pods.

A single tree can spawn a million seeds.

Some will take
a watery ride to new territories.

Others will be blown
as far as thirty miles away.

Most will be lost forever

but some will settle on
nearby muddy banks and bars of silt.

The seeds take hold remarkabliy gulckly:

some sending out shoots within hours.

Once they germinate,

the young willows are hardy enough to
withstand both flood and drought.

Their speedy germination
and toughness allows willows

to secure a foothold
where other species can't.

When the pioneering willows

have stabilised
the riverbanks other trees follow.

Soon a fringing forest develops:

a leafy illustration of
how rapidly the plants of

North East Asia adapt to
the seasonal rise and fall of rivers.

The riverside forests provide
an important food

source for a wide range of
insects associated with the river.

Fallen willow leaves
are a favourite food

for the larvae of the Caddis Fly.

Once they decompose,

the leaves will also provide nutrients
for the plankton in the river.

The larvae of the caddis fiy and adult
insects returning to lay their eggs,

are the main food of the male yamame,

who move to the best feeding stretches
of the river as they await the return

from the sea of
the female cherry salmon.

The influence of freshwater on the life
of cherry salmon is far-reaching.

Much of the freshwater which
comes as rain finds its way underground,

where it collects and gathers to
emerge years later as springs.

The springs converge
to create streams and rivers

which scour the land
on their journey to the sea.

Where land still resists the river,
there are waterfalls.

These freshwater
barriers play a key role

in the natural selection of the salmon.

They're hurdles the returning salmon
must cross in order to breed.

They will need to
gather all their strength

to make the leap
of more than six feet.

Only the strongest
and the most-determined

cherry salmon are selected

and continue the journey to
the spawning ground.

Summer is the busiest season
in the marshlands.

Once the waters recede,
the shallows are still.

In this calm, warm environment,
plants and animals proliferate,

packing their reproductive energy
into the few months

that are free from ice and snow.

Summaer's plenty provides food and
shelter for the growing crane family.

Within days of hatching,
the chick leaves the nest,

following its parents
around the marshes,

and learning what is food
and what is not.

ÖOften a second chick hatches
within days of the first.

But seldom do both survive.

In daylight,
eagles are always a threat.

Parents warn their chicks to stay out
of sight in the tall grass.

A fox looking for an easy meal,
takes on more than he bargained for.

The crane is one of
the top predators on the marshlands

with a kick that can smash a fox's ribs,
and a beak that can kill.

A more insidious danger
is unseasonable weather.

Even in June, temperatures can plummet.

If the weather's wet as well as cold,
the young chick,

whose feathers aren't yet waterproof,
is at serious risk from hypothermia.

The safest strategy
is to stay close to its parents

For the first month of its life,

the chick will sleep under
its parents wings at night,

when temperatures are low.

Japanese cranes lavish
extraordinary care on their young:

the survival of every chick counts.

With an abundance of
summer food the marshlands are,

for the cranes,
a great place to bring up chicks.

In the myriad ponds and bogs,

freshwater plants and fish flourish
in a frenzy of growing and breeding.

The stickleback gets
its name from its spiky dorsal fin.

The male is the homemaker.

He stakes out a territory and builds

a nest of plant fibre around
the stem of a reed.

Building the nest is a days work
but he constantliy fusses over İt.

He glues the nest together with mucus.

A female, attracted to the nest,
carries out a careful inspection.

Satisfied, she positions herself inside.

The male induces her to lay by prodding
around the joint of her tail fin.

As soon as she lays her eggs,
he darts through to fertilise them.

If he's lucky,

he will entice several females to his
nest during the same breeding season.

He'll look after all of their eggs,

cleaning them and driving a constant
flow of oxygen-rich water

through the nest
by fanning with his fins.

He chases off anything that approaches.

Among the intruders are tadpoles hatched

from the eggs laid in spring

and who are now running
the gauntlet of the marshes.

Of the enormous number born,
relatively few will survive.

All around are mouths eager to dine.

The camouflage of the waiting water
mantis is almost perfect.

The mouth of the water mantis
is like a needle

which it uses to suck out all
the tadpole's body fluid.

In the marshes nothing goes to waste,

and the discarded carcass
will soon be devoured

by scavengers like the water beetle.

İt carries its air supply

from the surface as
a bubble on the rear ofits shell.

But by far
the most ferocious tadpole hunters

are the larvae of the large dragon fiy.

Victim number one
was lucky to lose only its tail.

The powerful jaws can flick out in a
fraction of a second to clutch its prey.

They take less than a minute to consume
every scrap of a tadpole's body.

But even the most dangerous
insect hunter

is helpless before the Japanese crane.

The dragon fliy larvae are popular snacks
for the hungry chick.

Though cranes do eat plants,

in the breeding season they concentrate

on finding animal matter
for their chicks,

mainly insects and small fish
like goby and sticklebacks.

Freshwater crayfish is another
of the chick's favourites.

İt just reguires more preparation.

İn summer, the marshes deliver
the cranes everything they need.

Within a hundred days ofits birth

the chick will have grown
almost as big as its parents

and will be ready to fly.

Land and water merge
in the marshlands of North East Asia.

Marshes are lakes that are in
the process of being gradually filled in

by the steady accumulation of silt.

Wherever the silt settles,
plants begin to grow.

İtf's a pattern
repeated throughout the region.

As season follows season,
by a process known as succession,

lakes become marsh-like
and marshes in their turn become land.

But in Russia's Lake Baikal
subterranean forces are so powerful

they turn all normal
assumptions upside down.

This is a lake
that shows no sign of disappearing.

Indeed after thirty million years,
it is still growing.

Lake Baikal sits astride the junction of
two plates of the earths surface

which are continually pulling apart.

Though rivers ands
streams pour silt into Baikal

the ever widening lake absorbs it.

Because it has been isolated
for so long,

the Lake has an enormous diversity
of unigue plants and animals.

Bizarre branching sponges dominate
a cliff face in the coastal shallows.

They're green because of
tiny algae embedded in their tissue

that capture the sun's rays
and help nourish the sponge.

They flourish because
of the abundant plankton

in the lake which they filter out.

The sponges in turn are kept clean
by herds of grazing amphipods,

which feed off
microscopic algae and wastes,

and help maintain the efficiency of
the sponge's filtering system.

The lake also claims the world's
only freshwater polychaete worm.

All other members of this group
of animals are found only in the sea.

There are over three hundred species
of amphipod in the lake.

Some of these crustaceans are giants
the size of a mouse.

Males often carry females around
with them until they're ready to mate.

Of the fifty fish species
unigue to Lake Baikal,

more than half belong to
the sculpin family.

The stone sculpin has
a strategy of wait and pounce.

The priority in summer is to produce
offspring before the ice returns.

The yellow-fin sculpin spawn among
the rocks of the warmer shallows.

Using his fins in display,
and by releasing pheromones,

a single male may
attract a procession of females,

each of whom lay
more than a thousand eggs.

The male tends the eggs throughout
the three weeks they take to hatch.

Like the stickleback,

he uses his fins to fan them clean

and to flush them
with fresh oxygenated water.

But many of the lakes creatures
must go to the shore to breed.

The pupae of the caddis fly
have spent the winter under the ice

and emerge in their millions to
drift ashore as waves ofliving protein.

Once they reach the lakeside,

they transform themselves
into fully-fledged flies.

As adults they don't eat
and may live only a few days.

Their only purpose...

reproduction which begins
in a swarming frenzy.

They mate on the ground,

or on patches of snow
that have lingered into summer.

Then the females return to
the waters edge to lay their eggs...

and become a feast
for the waiting gulls.

For the seals of Lake Baikal

summer means laying down fat
before the ice returns.

The seals have larger forelimbs than
their nearest living relatives

in the Arctic Ocean and the Caspian Sea.

The biggest mystery
is how the seals got here.

Some say travelled from the sea up

the Yenisey River
half a million years ago.

Others believe they made
the journey even earlier,

when the Arctic Ocean and Lake Baikal
were much closer to each other.

In the marshlands

early morning mists are a sign
the short summer is ending.

Already the leaves of
some trees are changing colour.

After three months the cherry salmon

have nearly reached
their spawning ground.

And they're beginning
to live up the to their name.

When they set out from the river mouth

and swam past the cherry blossoms,
they were silver.

Now, as autumn comes
their bodies redden.

The males shift into breeding gear.

Their jaws elongate,
curving to reveal ferocious teeth.

The cherry salmon
are living off their reserves,

propelled by the overwhelming
instinct to spawn.

Heedless of all dangers,

they continue their
headlong rush day and night.

For some, the journey could end early.

Night is the time many predators prefer.

In this world between
the mountains and the sea,

the fish owl reigns supreme.

Now it shows how it earned its name.

As a final test of their endurance,

the salmon who've survived
the hazards of the journey

must snake their way through some of
the river's shallowest stretches.

Now an extraordinary encounter unfolds.

The tiny yamame who
have stayed in the river wait to breed

with the cherry salmon
they drove away to sea.

They have returned as giants

and completely ignore the yamame

even the larger ones in their
breeding colours of gold and black.

Spawning starts as soon as
she scrapes a nest.

Females may attract the attention
of more than one large male.

Even though they're exhausted
from their long migration,

their mating instincts drive them
into a frenzy of combat.

The two are evenly matched
and their battle rages

for more than thirty minutes.

Eventually the winner claims his female,

but he must continue defending
his right to fertilise her eggs.

A further challenger
is soon brushed aside.

As the moment of spawning approaches,

the male stimulates the female
by vibrating against her.

Although it seems
that the tiny male yamame

have no chance of
mating they know otherwise.

When the yamame approach the female,

they're so small that the large male
fails to identify them as a threat,

and so doesn't bother
to drive them away.

Although the yamame are
too small for him to fight,

their sperm are still effective.

The moment to which their
whole life has been geared is near.

İmmediately the female
releases her eggs,

the yamame rushes to fertilise them.

The little male the yamame

that never went to sea gets
its chance to breed.

The female lays more than
two thousand eggs,

which she protects
by covering them with small stones.

The male cherry salmon
who has fertilised

most of the eggs drives off
other fish who try to eat them.

Throughout the two weeks of spawning,

the same ritual is played out day
after day in hundreds of home streams.

The yamame's sneaky strategy
for spawning gives them a chance,

despite their small size, of leaving
offspring and passing on their genes.

They fertilise fewer eggs
than the cherry salmon,

but their living is easier
and they enjoy the same life span.

To return to their home waters,

the larger males
and females have had to survive

the dangers of the ocean
and the hazardous journey upriver.

Once they arrive,
they have only oöne chance to mate,

and once that chance has passed,
like other Pacific salmon, they die.

The male yamame who hatched
in the same spawning grounds,

never had to leave their home waters.

And next season, some will even
get a second chance to spawn.

In death the cherry salmon
completes another cycle

delivering the bounty of
the sea to the freshwater.

As winter approaches,

life in the marshes
again begins to slow down.

During the short summer,

the reeds have
grown up to six feet tall.

Now they must spread
their seeds before the ground hardens.

A single cat-tail pod can
spread tens of thousands of seeds,

which will lie dormant
until next spring.

The frogs that have grown from tadpoles
are preparing for their first winter.

It will be a further two seasons
before they can lay eggs.

The fallen leaves
will make a protective shelter.

Falling temperatures and chilling wind

and rain cool the shallow waters of
the marsh and insects are now scarce.

The crane chick is now nearly as tall
as İts parents, and is eager to fly.

İt is becoming hard to
find food on the marshes.

Unless the cranes move soon,
the chick won't survive.

İts first flight may be a long one.

The family head for farmland
to forage in the stubble.

In the rivers,
freshwater is returning to ice.

Yet even as-everywhere-activity

closes down underwater
new life is stirring.

The cherry salmon eggs
hatched three months ago.

The fry have
remailned beneath the stones,

sustained by the nutrients
from of their eggs sacs.

Now they emerge to feed.

The cherry salmon cycle is renewed.

As snowflakes begin to fall,

the cranes renew the courtship calls
which season after season,

underpin their pairing
and strengthen their bond.

Although the harsh
freezing winters of North East Asia

challenge all freshwater life,

snow brings the promise
of water to come.

Despite the grip of winter,

the Cranes' Dance is a
celebration of life and of the certainty

that the abundance of Spring will come
again for the Creatures of the Thaw.