Original subtitles

The wild Pacific Coast of Vancouver Island.

An ancient and rugged landscape

off the western shore of British Columbia.

From the icy peaks of age-old mountain glaciers...

...to the fog-shrouded canopies of Canada's only rainforest,

this is the wettest place in North America.

A primitive habitat

where the Pacific Ocean holds the key to life.

That's why this is one of the most remarkable places

on Earth.

A land locked in time,

where nature and the human spirit coexist.

It's just everything you'd want if you're an adventurous person.

A paradise for creatures

adapted to life by the sea.

And a never-before-seen view

of one of the most sacred places on Earth.

(♪♪♪)

(♪♪♪)

(♪♪♪)

Vancouver Island's Pacific Coast,

a lush old-growth rainforest that spans nearly 300 miles

of the western shores of British Columbia, Canada.

It's the largest island on the western coast

of the Americas.

And the wettest place in North America.

Winters here are moist and mild.

Temperatures rarely dip below 30°.

It is an unusually warm climate

in a country known for its raw and bitter winters.

Surprisingly, the small town of Tofino,

on the western shore,

receives the least snow of any town in Canada.

But what it lacks in snow, Tofino makes up for with rain.

As many as 27 feet of rain fall on Tofino each year.

The downpours are seasonal.

December alone brings more rain to the town

than some parts of British Columbia receive

in an entire year.

As a result, the region is home

to one of the world's most unusual ecosystems,

a temperate coastal rainforest.

In summer, steady heat brings little rain.

And the climate feels almost Mediterranean.

This truly is a place like no other in Canada.

Vancouver Island sits on top

of the westward-moving North American tectonic plate.

It's part of the Ring of Fire,

a string of volcanoes, deep ocean trenches,

and earthquake zones that circles the Pacific Ocean.

It's an area renowned for its violent geology

and volcanic activity.

If you look at the direction

in which all the continents are moving,

you'll see that they're encroaching

on the Pacific.

So it's probably the most dangerous part

of the planet,

because that process, and we call it "subduction",

generates enormous great earthquakes.

It generates volcanoes, it generates tidal waves.

Continental drift causes landmasses

to move dramatically over time.

Vancouver Island is a perfect example

of this phenomenon at work.

The island began its journey much farther south

than it is today.

It sits atop a large piece of crust

called "Wrangellia".

Born near the equator about 380 million years ago,

Wrangellia slowly drifted northeast along fault lines

at a rate of about 1 foot every 7 years.

As it moved and fractured,

the chunk of crust carried several different land masses

colliding into the North American plate.

These include Southeast Alaska,

the Haida Gwaii archipelago

on the North Coast of British Columbia,

and Vancouver Island.

It's like you pushing a broom across the floor

and sweeping up debris.

And so there's been a whole re-evaluation

of the geology of Western Canada,

and geologists now realize it's a mosaic.

And the pieces actually originate

from thousands of kilometers away,

and they've been added to the West Coast

of North America.

Perhaps, surprisingly, this is not the last stop

for Vancouver Island.

It continues to drift north-eastward

toward mainland Canada,

about 1 to 2 inches each year,

the same speed at which fingernails grow.

Eventually, in about 500,000 years,

the island will collide with the mainland

to create a new landmass.

Tectonic plate movement in this part of the Ring of Fire

is dangerous

and it's not necessarily millions of years

into the future.

There's something far more imminent

that's of particular concern to scientists.

A Megathrust earthquake,

known locally as "The Really Big One".

This earthquake is predicted to rival

the disastrous quake and tsunami

that devastated parts of Japan in 2011.

Vancouver Island sits along the Cascadia subduction zone

where the North America and Juan de Fuca tectonic plates

are locked in a standoff.

All the stress is building up,

and there's a lot of anticipation

and concern about when those plates unlock.

And we get what we call a mega earthquake,

a megathrust earthquake.

And it could be tomorrow, it could be next year

or maybe a thousand years' time.

But there is a history in the rocks there

of these repeated megathrust earthquakes.

At a predicted magnitude of more than 9

on the Richter scale,

an earthquake this large would trigger a massive tsunami,

nearly 400 miles wide.

Spanning from San Francisco, California,

to Juneau, Alaska,

and across the ocean to the far shores

of the western Pacific.

The earthquake would devastate large cities

including Vancouver, Victoria, Portland, and Seattle.

A quake like this is unavoidable.

The question is when will it strike?

Geological records show

that the last megathrust earthquake

hit the Pacific Coast in the year 1700.

Scientists say there is a one-in-three chance

it will happen again within the next 50 years.

Vancouver, British Columbia,

could be among the cities worst affected.

Vancouver is built largely on very soft sediment

which was brought down by the Fraser River.

So you've got this rather unstable situation

of wet sediment.

And we know from places like Japan,

when you shake that wet sediment,

it very often turns into a liquid.

Buildings literally fall down

through the softened sediment and tilt.

So the effects of the megathrust earthquake

can be actually magnified,

because most of the city is underlined

by soft, wet sediment.

For now, the same geological processes

that threaten Vancouver Island

breathe life into its ecosystems.

As fragments of plates have subducted under the island,

its interior mountain range has risen up above.

This mountain chain forms a rain shadow,

an impenetrable wall of rock that prevents moisture

moving inland from the ocean from passing over its peaks.

It's the strongest factor in the creation

of the Pacific temperate rainforest.

By trapping precipitation on the west side of the island,

the mountains cause huge amounts of fog and rainfall

along the island's Pacific Coast,

creating a lush rainforest unlike any other.

On the edge of this unlikely northern jungle

is Meares Island,

an ancient-growth forest that's been held sacred

for more than a thousand years.

(Birds chirping)

Meares Island is home to some of the largest

and oldest trees on Earth,

1,500-year-old cedars

tended by local Tla-o-qui-aht First Nations.

It is a harmonious relationship between humans and nature

that has stood the test of time.

We have an inter-generational responsibility

that is passed on, you know, to be taking care

not only of the land, but the ocean, the rivers,

and all the living things that are in this area.

(Birds chirping in distance)

Meares Island is Canada's first official Tribal Park.

Faced by the threat of logging in the 1980s,

local people fought to protect their sacred land

from deforestation.

After intense negotiations with the Canadian government,

they were successful.

And Meares Island was declared a Tribal Park in 1984.

Now under the watchful eye of Tla-o-qui-aht First Nations,

the island is used as a nature park,

where visitors can sit among some of the oldest trees

on the planet.

(Birds chirping in distance)

Here on Meares Island's Big Tree Trail

stands one of the largest and oldest living organisms

on Earth...

(Birds chirping in distance)

...the Hanging Garden Tree.

A western red cedar 60 feet wide,

it's more than 2,000 years old.

And was likely just a sapling at the dawn of Christianity.

Some of these ancient red cedars can reach heights

of more than 170 feet.

There are only a few of these majestic giants left

on Vancouver Island.

Years of deforestation and development destroyed

much of the island's old growth.

But the time-worn cedars that do remain

are able to grow to staggering proportions

due to the torrents of precipitation that fall

each year.

Heavy rainfall in the winter and extreme fog in the summer

create a constant dampness that prevents forest fires

from igniting and burning down these ancient woods.

But it isn't just a warm, sodden climate

that keeps this forest flourishing.

It's protected by another guardian.

One so small, it's easily overlooked,

buried beneath the feet of visitors.

Yet so large,

it connects the trees of the forest,

forming one of the most immense organisms on Earth,

fungus.

Fungus is the lifeblood of this rainforest ecosystem.

It feeds nutrients to trees and animals

through a living network

that exists just below the mossy forest floor.

You're on a living mat

that connects one tree species to another tree species.

Each tree is connected to others by fungal roots called mycelium.

These strands of living tissue carry nitrogen and phosphorous,

nutrients that help plants grow.

The connections are so strong

that cutting down a tree in one end of the forest

can impact a tree on the opposite end.

This fungal network has been called

"Earth's natural internet"

and can serve as a warning system

for impending disease.

Trees pick up on chemical signals of distress

from their neighbors that travel through the network.

All of these creatures, these tree creatures,

these Ents, as in Lord of the Rings ,

truly are connected by a real physical

and biological connection.

Like the constant moisture of the rainforest,

this fungal network is key to the survival of old growth.

It provides 1,000-year-old trees with the nutrients they need

to keep growing.

Although science does not yet fully understand

the complexity of these networks,

it's clear that this unique habitat

could not exist without them.

When you go out into the forest,

you're walking on life.

Life connecting with other creatures.

It's not some spiritual thing, it's a real thing.

Yet behind it is this spirit of life,

the spirit of evolution,

that's why this is one of the most remarkable places

on Earth.

This remarkable place is also home

to a diversity of wildlife, nourished by the lush forests

and nutrient-rich inter-tidal zones.

Here, a black bear goes in search of breakfast.

Hungry predators like him take advantage of low tides

that expose small prey in the early morning

and turn shorelines into a buffet of mollusks

and crustaceans.

It's 8:00 a.m., low tide and the best time to find food.

But it's a race against the clock,

every minute counts.

In just a few hours, the high tide will wash back in,

hiding prey under more than 9 feet of water.

But for now,

clams, oysters, and crabs are ripe for the picking.

The black bear is the smallest bear

of the three species in North America.

But this is no average black bear.

This is a Vancouver Island black bear,

an endemic subspecies of the common black bear.

Here, the bears run larger than their mainland cousins.

Females weigh an average of 400 pounds,

while males can tip the scales at more than 600 pounds,

the weight of a large touring motorcycle.

Green shore crabs scuttle off,

wary of the bears that feed on this bank.

They're common on the shores of Vancouver Island

and make a tasty snack.

The breakfast buffet of the inter-tidal zone

feeds more than the local bear population.

(Seagulls screeching)

Crows and gulls also take advantage

of the exposed shoreline, pecking for small prey

and scavenging the remains left by larger animals.

These opportunistic hunters find plenty of food

on the nutrient-rich beaches.

Larger birds make this coastline home

as well.

A bald eagle rests in a cedar tree,

its keen eyes able to spot small prey 100 feet below.

Eagles find easy meals on these shores during low-tide.

Today, the shores begin to clear out around noon.

The feast dies down as the high tides creep back in.

But another kind of frenzy is just getting started.

(♪♪♪)

Powerful waves crash along the shores,

creating ideal conditions for the best surfing in Canada.

With more than 20 miles of surf-able beach break,

Tofino is known worldwide

as a top spot to catch a wave.

Surfers flock here year-round.

I really like surfing early in the morning,

before the wind picks up and before people wake up.

You can, you know, find waves where it'll just be you

and your friends surfing for 3 or 4 days

if you make the effort to maybe go on a plane ride

or a boat ride or really hike down

in through some forests.

Or if you just wanna be lazy and surf,

the beaches are right on your doorstep.

Uh, there's probably about five or six beaches

that you can surf here.

Water temperatures remain cool but consistent at about 50°.

Surfing here is a year-round sport.

The largest waves come in winter,

when the surf rises with powerful swells.

But each surfer's ideal wave is different.

My favorite time of year to surf is the fall.

When the water is still kind of warm

from the summer,

but the waves start to get bigger,

and we start to get some bigger swells coming in.

Chesterman Beach, with its dramatic V-shape,

is a surfer's playground.

Dissected at its point by Frank Island,

the beach is split perfectly in two.

South Chesterman packs a punch

with southern swells and northwest winds.

North Chesterman provides the opposite experience,

with climbing north-west swells and south-easterly winds.

Surfers don wetsuits to ward off chilly water temperatures.

And there are other hazards for surfers in Tofino.

In addition to bears on the beach,

there are orcas in these waters.

Surfers have been forced out of the sea

by circling pods of killer whales,

though there's never been an attack.

For nature lovers and adventure seekers,

there is more to Tofino than rolling waves.

If I'm not surfing, I'm hiking and not just hiking the beaches.

Like within an hour's drive from here,

you can hike up a beautiful mountain

like up a waterfall and swim in a lake,

you know, up the top.

It's just everything you'd want

if you're an adventurous, fun-loving person.

But other places along the same stretch of shoreline

are not so hospitable.

The Pacific coastal region between Northern Oregon

and the top of Vancouver Island

is one of North America's most treacherous coastlines.

Unpredictable weather, jagged shores, and intense fog

have sunk thousands of ships,

earning this stretch of coastline the nickname,

"The Graveyard of the Pacific".

The historic Amphitrite Lighthouse

has helped sailors navigate

the island's treacherous coastlines

for more than 100 years.

The lighthouse was built in 1906

after the tragic sinking of the Pass of Melfort

in the winter of 1905.

The four-masted, steel-hulled ship

was on its way to Seattle on a routine timber run

until seasonal storms whipped up deadly waves,

leaving the vessel in ruin just 160 feet

off the shore of Amphitrite Point.

The tragedy left 36 people dead.

Since then, the lighthouse has guided sailors to safety

through thick fog along rocky coasts.

(Waves splashing in distance)

The most ancient layers of Vancouver Island

are comprised of marine volcanic rock

formed by undersea lava deposits

more than 300 million years ago.

Over millennia, the calcium shells

of countless marine animals added to the rock

to create limestone.

These ancient rocks formed long colonnades

that jut out into the Pacific Ocean,

posing hazards for passing ships.

But even more dangerous than the jagged rock

is the unrelenting fog.

August on the west coast of Vancouver Island

is nicknamed "Fogust".

Two types of fog cloak the west coast,

radiation and advection.

Radiation fog is common during late summer

and is created when surface temperatures

cool rapidly at night.

Ground water evaporates into warmer air,

condensing as a thin layer of surface cloud

close to ground.

Daytime rising temperatures typically burn off radiation fog

by mid-afternoon.

But advection fog can last for several days

when warm, moist air blows across cooler land

or water.

The fog is an essential part

of the Pacific Coast's rainforest ecosystem.

During the dry summer,

it supplies the forests with much-needed moisture.

Fog drip accounts for more than 35%

of the rainforest's annual precipitation.

Without this thick haze,

Canada's only rainforest could not survive.

Life on this remarkable island

depends on the delicate balance of its ecosystems.

Like waves of the Pacific shore,

life here ebbs and flows in a natural rhythm.

To the keen observer,

this lush paradise

can provide everything needed for survival.

A really big compliment that you can get in our culture

is that you have been very observant.

So there was a lot of time that people just spent in nature

observing various things.

What the birds are saying, what the tide is doing,

do you hear a rumble along the ocean

that'll help you know what's going on out there

in terms of swell.

What the clouds are doing,

which mountain tops they're sitting on top off.

All these things,

and you can learn so much just from that observance.

For generations, First Nations have lived off the land,

looking to nature to supply shelter and food.

In the past, we managed these root vegetable gardens

that were our main starches

and those were very carefully gardened

and managed by specific families within the tribe.

Some First Nations communities still rely on the shores

of the island for food.

Living off the land demands an expert level

of observance.

Foragers need to be aware of the balance

of supply and demand.

Through the ages, the lives of First Nations

were intertwined with the natural world.

Aboriginal people considered the growth

and reproduction cycles of plants and animals

before harvesting

to sustain the food supply for generations to come.

It's important to learn about whatever that resource is,

not just as a human use thing, but its own lifecycle

and just how,

under what circumstances does it thrive, or not?

And if you do have access to indigenous knowledge

and people that are willing to share, to respectfully ask,

that's a good start.

From up high,

the lush rainforests of Vancouver Island

burst with life.

Dense greenery is a vivid sign of a healthy forest.

These aerial views also provide clues

about the health of a different species,

salmon.

The carcasses of salmon

dragged from spawning streams hundreds of feet inland

provide a rich source of nitrogen to nearby forests.

Studies show the trees here obtain up to 50%

of their nitrogen from the decaying fish.

Forests made healthy by dead salmon

attract more birds and insects,

increasing the overall well-being

of the ecosystem.

As a result, lush forests like this

usually indicate a healthy salmon run.

(Water splashing)

There are four kinds of salmon on Vancouver Island.

Chinook salmon is the largest.

It can live for up to 9 years

and reach weights of more than 130 pounds,

making it the largest salmon species on Earth.

These muscular fish spawn in the majority

of Vancouver Island's streams and rivers.

Every fall, salmon return to the place they were born

to lay their eggs and restart the cycle of life.

It's an epic journey

that can cover thousands of miles

from the wide-open Pacific Ocean to natal streams

that can reach far inland.

Guided by the Earth's magnetic fields

and their own sense of smell,

salmon find the river of their birth,

then brave waterfalls and rapids

to make it to their spawning grounds far upstream.

Once they arrive at their destination,

females can lay between 2,000 to 5,000 eggs

before they become senescent, meaning they've spawned out.

The high number of eggs is vital to the survival

of the species.

The ova are vulnerable to predators, pollution,

flooding, and disease

Less than 10% will make it to adulthood

and just 2% will survive the incredible journey

back to their birthplace to spawn

and continue the cycle of life.

South of Tofino is the crown jewel

of Vancouver Island's west coast.

Pacific Rim National Park,

home to rainforests filled with ancient cedars

and diverse wildlife.

It's also home to one of the island's

unexpected and rarest ecosystems,

sand dunes.

In Western Canada, sand dunes and sandy beaches

comprise less than 10% of our shoreline.

That makes them rare, but what makes them special

is that these are selected spots for a whole host

of different species that only exist

in sandy substrate.

Dunes are created in equal parts by wind and water.

Over time, wind pushes waves and sand ashore,

piling grains of sand into wind deposits.

These dunes are the largest in British Columbia

and are an important transitional zone

between beach and forest.

These are very rare, very selected habitats

for a whole host of different species

and communities that only exist in select spots

like here in Tofino, Ucluelet.

Migratory birds, bears,

and a variety of plants and insects

call the dunes home.

But an intruder has put the dunes at risk.

Dune systems of this size are really rare.

What we see in most coastal dune systems

in the northern hemisphere is that

they are slowly shrinking or stabilizing

by vegetation moving in on their margins.

We see that on the fore-dune here,

in response to an introduced or invasive species,

that's known as an American or European beach-grass.

Beach-grass was originally brought

to Vancouver Island

to stabilize coastal areas at risk of erosion.

But over time, this invasive species

began to block the natural transfer of sand

between dunes.

Without a natural flow of sand, dunes can shrink over time

endangering the plants, insects and animals

that make their home in the sand.

To help fight invasive European beach-grass,

the park introduced a restoration program.

Local community members remove the beach grass by hand,

replacing it with the endangered plants.

These kids here are pulling invasive dune grass

for the dune restoration project.

It's a very important ecosystem here

and these kids are helping to restore it.

The goal is to restore the way wind naturally blows

the sediment and shifts the dunes.

By freeing up sand to move with the wind,

researchers hope to maintain the natural microhabitats

of the dunes.

All of these plants that you see around here,

they're disturbance-loving plants.

They need that disturbance, that abrasion by sand,

that burial, that erosion to grow and live.

An invasive species like the beach-grass

will move in, choke out, and stabilize

or cover the surface.

The species that we're really focused on

and for this dune restoration project

are three species that are considered endangered

in Canada

and one of those is pink sand verbena.

By replacing the invasive beach-grass

with pink sand verbena,

researchers will restore the natural rhythm of the dunes.

We've removed those grasses,

we've returned these environments

to a more natural regime,

and we have seen the increase

in a lot of those rare species

that we were trying to enhance.

We're making great strides in giving them a home.

On Vancouver Island,

another ecosystem straddles the line

between Earth and water.

But this place is not by the ocean.

It's thousands of feet above sea level.

A hidden paradise at the top of a mountain.

These towering peaks split Vancouver Island

into east and west.

Their steep slopes retain moisture

along the Pacific Coast

and help create lush rainforests.

But historically, these thirsty forests

were quenched by another source, glaciers.

In the 1970s,

Vancouver Island was home to more than 170 glaciers.

Ice capped the peaks of many mountains on the island.

In the heat of the summer,

these slow-moving ribbons of ice melt

and saturate the dry forests below.

In the spring, melted glaciers become rushing waterfalls.

In the Nahmint Valley,

in the centre of Vancouver Island,

spring waterfalls flow freely.

Locals refer to this area as "Waterfall Heaven".

Here, glacial runoff creates towering waterfalls.

One of the tallest, Virgin Falls,

cascades more than 170 feet.

Rising global temperatures have reduced

the number of glaciers on Vancouver Island

to just five.

Fewer glaciers means less water to feed

the hundreds of waterfalls

that flow down from the mountains.

Some scientists predict

that all of Vancouver Island's glaciers

could be gone within 25 years.

(♪♪♪)

In some cases, melted glaciers feed mountain lakes.

Water from these lakes feeds the surrounding forest

to create a vibrant ecosystem

hundreds of feet above sea level.

But as the climate continues to warm,

these high alpine regions are shrinking.

Within the next century, they may disappear completely.

These secluded mountain tops of Vancouver Island

provide a haven for fragile ecosystems.

Tucked away among the mountains is Henderson Lake.

This secluded body of water

sits on Uchucklesaht First Nations land,

a region that holds special meaning

to Pacific First Nations.

For thousands of years,

Henderson Lake teemed with salmon.

Salmon runs here were among the most spectacular

in the world.

There was enough fish to feed entire communities.

But disease brought by European settlers

took its toll on tradition.

We've been here for thousands of years

and at one time

we were approximately 8,000 warriors strong

a few hundred years ago.

And through the epidemics

and smallpox

and those kind of events,

we were basically diminished

to very small numbers,

less than a hundred.

And now we are growing,

we are closed to 300 members at this point.

Encircling Henderson Lake are the five sacred mountains

that have guarded the spiritual secrets

of Pacific First Nations for millennia.

This is the Thunderbird's Nest,

home of the mythical thunderbird.

A supernatural creature able to bring rain and lightning

to Vancouver Island's coastal rainforest.

There's just a handful, you can count on one hand,

of areas that you would call the Thunderbird's Nest.

And in our language it's called the "T'iitsk'in Pawaats".

Every nation has stories about having thunderbirds,

but not Thunderbird Nest.

According to ancient mythology,

the land was home to a family of thunderbirds.

Five birds inhabited the tops of each

of the five sacred mountains within the T'iitsk'in Paawats.

Over time, the mythical birds began to leave the nest.

Some were traded away to neighboring tribes

during times of wedding and war,

creating sacred bonds that tied communities together.

The Thunderbird's Nest holds precious significance

to Pacific First Nations

and has never before been filmed.

The land remained a well-guarded secret

until loggers attempted to clear-cut the area

and members of the Uchucklesaht Tribe

took action to save it.

Not very many outside people knew about the story

of the Thunderbird's Nest and our secret ceremonies

and the activities we carry out in the nest.

It came to light in the '90s.

We were shocked and astonished to learn that

the forestry company was logging out

in the upper part of the province.

So we immediately went and met with the forest companies

and asked them to cease.

And after much meeting, and discussions

and educating them of our interest in the area,

of the spiritualness and the sacredness of it,

they agreed to stop harvesting.

Logging this area would have been disastrous

to the spiritual ancestry

of more than 14 Pacific First Nation tribes.

My mother, at that time, she was about 75 years old.

And she said if they're not willing

to protect the area

or they're not prepared to stop logging--

When they were logging,

she was gonna make her way up there

and park herself in the middle of the road

so nobody can haul any wood out of there.

So that's how determined our people were

to ensure that logging would not happen

in that spiritual area.

First Nations Tribal Councils

now govern the area

protecting more than 5,000 acres from the logging industry

for future generations.

Because of its special ties to the thunderbird,

this land has been used by the Uchucklesaht people

for sacred rituals

since long before the appearance of Europeans.

Each piece of the nest holds a specific sacred purpose.

The lowest mountain has a number of sacred ponds

and waterfalls

that are traditionally used to cleanse a member of the tribe

before a difficult journey.

It's a place where our people

went for ceremonies and celebrations

and the ceremonies ranging

from 1 day or 1/2 a day

to maybe a week to a month or 8 months

depending on what you were there

to prepare yourself for.

One of the most intense spiritual practices

in the Thunderbird's Nest occurred prior to a whale hunt.

Tribe members would camp alone among the mountains

for up to 8 months,

cleansing the body and mind in preparation for a hunt,

that, if successful, could feed an entire family

throughout the winter.

People often have big reactions to the idea of whale hunting

and like very kind of gut level.

But I think there is a lack of understanding.

There's intensive spiritual and physical preparation

that takes place before going on a whale hunt.

And there's so much respect for these big animals

and one of the incredible things is that one of these animals

can feed so many people and in former times,

the oil, the blubber of them was,

you know, that was so precious.

Because there wasn't other forms of oil around here.

Smaller events took place within the nest as well.

Weddings commonly occurred on its shores.

Coming-of-age ceremonies played out in its woods.

Community members walked these grounds

while mourning the loss of a loved one

or while preparing to give birth to a new member of the tribe.

These lands were a place to prepare the body and mind

for many of life's journeys.

Each family had their own bathing site

or place of worship within the Thunderbird's Nest.

A place so secret that an intruder could be killed

for entering the space without invitation.

Some of our people still practice these ceremonies

and activities to this day.

I still come up at least once a year

to do "osimich" which is go into the water and bathe.

And it's really good for relieving your mind of stress

and planning for the rest of your week

or your month or your year.

I usually come in the winter months

and go into the lake.

And I sit in the lake for up to an hour

and it's really relaxing,

you don't feel the cold of the lake,

the air is colder than the water is

in the winter months.

These spiritual practices,

so linked with the natural surroundings,

are representative of the island as a whole.

This is a place where humans and nature

have been inextricably linked for millennia.

We call it "God's country", this whole area.

It's just a place you come to and you never forget

and you don't wanna leave.

It's such a powerful place to be.

When you're in there, you feel the,

you know, the presence of nature,

the presence of the Creator.

From the dense canopies of ancient rainforests

to the fungal roots that connect sleeping giants,

from the bears and salmon that call this place home

to the many different people who live off the land,

this magnificent landscape is a rugged reminder

of a world that thrived long ago.

From its volcanic beginnings

to its powerful ocean shores.

From lush rainforests

to magnificent islands in the sky.

It is an age-old landscape

that continues to preserve ancient ways of life.

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