All language subtitles for Episode 02 Spring

The sun is absent for up to
half the year in the polar regions.

When it returns,
at the beginning of spring,

its warmth will transform
this magical ice world.

The greatest seasonal change
on our planet is now underway.

Antarctica is still locked in ice,
and surrounded by a frozen ocean.

Nonetheless,
there are signs of spring.

Adelie penguins are arriving ...
just the males.

They've spent five months at sea,
where it's warmer than it is on land

and now they're in a hurry,
for spring will be short.

They have travelled 6,000 miles
across the ocean

since leaving their colony
last year,

and now
they're returning to breed.

They cannot lay their eggs on ice,
for they would freeze,

so they have to come here,
where there is bare rock.

Over the coming months,

the few parts of Antarctica
that are ice-free

will be the stage
on which five million Adelies

will build their nests.

To construct one, they need pebbles,
and without a good-looking nest,

a male will be unable
to attract a female,

when they at last arrive.

An impressive property
demonstrates your worth as a mate.

It takes stones of all shapes
and sizes to build a decent nest,

and finding ones
that are just right is not easy.

So some penguins
turn to a life of crime.

The one who has been robbed
seems unaware

that the thief is just over
his shoulder, and looking for more.

The thief's nest
is coming along nicely,

probably because he keeps
a particularly sharp lookout

for robbers...

after all,
it takes one to know one.

It's still cold,
but the early season sun

does lift the temperature
by a few degrees.

That, however, can have unexpected,
even dangerous consequences.

The sea is heating faster
than the land,

pulling cold air from the middle
of the continent towards the coast.

These katabatic winds
are stronger than any hurricane.

They are the coldest and
the most ferocious on the planet.

The storms catch
many new arrivals by surprise,

and are the reason that spring here
is, in fact, the deadliest season.

Here, early birds take a great risk.

Some years,
entire colonies are lost,

buried beneath the snow.

The survivors of this storm

must hope that the females
prove to be worth the wait

when they finally decide to turn up.

Spring in the north of our planet.

The sun, after an absence
of six months,

breaks the horizon
for the first time.

A female polar bear emerges
from her den beneath the snow.

The sun must be a welcome relief
after so long in the darkness.

Her den is on a high slope,

well away from hungry male bears
who would kill her cubs,

but close enough to the sea ice
where she can find food

for her extraordinary new family...

three young cubs.

If she can raise them all
to independence,

it'll be a rare achievement.

One of the cubs is underweight,

and will be fortunate
to survive these early weeks.

If the family reaches the sea ice,
where the female can catch seals,

her milk will be enriched,

and the smaller cub will
quickly gain size and strength.

The sea ice, though,
is a dangerous place.

The male polar bear has been out
on the frozen ocean all winter.

Times have been lean,

and a bear cub would certainly
make a welcome snack.

However, the mainstay
of his diet is seals,

and now is the time
when they have their pups.

The surface of the frozen sea
is marked with pressure ridges,

and cracks created
by the fluctuating tides.

Both are good places
to look for seals.

He has detected a seal den
beneath the ice.

Now he must pin-point it, using only
his extraordinary sense of smell.

By treading lightly,
he can avoid scaring his prey.

He will need to punch through
a metre of snow to reach the den,

and if his aim
is not exactly on target,

the seal will certainly escape.

In fact, the ringed seal
abandoned her den

just a few hours ago

and her pup has climbed up
onto the surface.

It's more exposed up here, but it's
easier to see an approaching bear.

The pup is well camouflaged.

Difficult to see when its mother
has left it to go fishing.

But he can still smell it.

Nine out of ten polar bear hunts
end in failure.

The sun's warming effect
on the Arctic is increasing

and the sea ice is showing
the first signs of weakening.

Inland, the northern rivers
are still locked in ice.

The frozen waterfalls are like dams

holding back billions of tonnes
of fresh water

that has not moved
for almost six months.

The vast water shed lies motionless,

but as spring advances,
it beings to stir.

The frozen waterfalls
start to weaken.

Above them,
the pressure is mounting.

Now, from high above, whole sections
can be seen to be on the move.

The waterfalls are straining
to hold back the force

that is building up above them.

The dam bursts...

and the river is unleashed.

Millions of tonnes of ice
grind their way downstream,

driven by the unstoppable force
of the meltwater.

Boulders and trees are plucked
from the bank side.

Within just a few days, the rivers
of the north are all running.

The Arctic's fresh water
is flowing again.

These vast floods contain
10% of the world's fresh water

and as they enter the ocean,
they accelerate the break-up.

Soon, an area of sea ice
the size of Australia

will vanish from the Arctic Ocean.

As the huge ice-sheet breaks up,
wildlife returns to the North.

The polar bear mother has made it
to the edge of the sea-ice,

but the smallest cub
is nowhere to be seen.

It's a sad outcome,

but the disappearance improves
the chances of the remaining two,

who now have more milk to share.

Having led her cubs
to the edge of the ice,

the mother's next challenge
is to catch a seal.

Not easy with these two in tow!

Her prey beneath the ice
can detect the slightest vibration,

especially from bears.

And this is not
the stealthiest of hunting parties.

Leaving her cubs behind however,
is not an option...

a male bear would eat one
in a moment.

This is not going to be easy.

It seems that the cubs already
see themselves as fearsome hunters,

but they're still young enough
to accept their mother's discipline.

It's the naughty corner for you!

This is not going to be
their lucky morning.

They saw no sign of a seal
and the cubs are hungry again.

The mother has been nursing for four
months without once eating herself,

and now her milk is drying up.

She must catch a seal soon,
or the whole family will starve.

The challenge of finding food
is getting harder.

She needs the sea-ice
as a platform from which to hunt

and it's breaking up faster
with each passing day.

Even the ice around the coast
is starting to break.

The first cracks here
are eagerly awaited by some...

narwhals.

The unicorns of the North
are on a mission...

to reach the new fishing grounds

in the bays that have been frozen-up
all winter, but are now opening up.

To get to them, the narwhals
must travel down leads...

temporary cracks in the ice.

But these new roads
could close at any time,

cutting off the air
that they need to breathe.

The road narrows until there's
barely room for one-way traffic.

Then, a surprise...

narwhals coming
from the other direction.

It's a stand-off.

Each team faces an armoury
of sharp tusks.

Finally, one side concedes

and everyone continues
in the same direction.

Within a week, the remaining bays
break wide open,

and the narwhals turn
their attention to social matters.

No-one knows exactly what
the narwhal's tusk is for.

Some say it's used for fencing,

yet these exchanges are too gentle
to be real fights.

Perhaps these encounters

are to remind each animal of
where it stands in Narwhal society.

We may never know.

Bizarre creatures appear
as if from nowhere.

The tiny plankton they eat have been
fuelled by the increasing warmth

of the sun
and fertilised by the nutrients

brought down by the great rivers and
released from the melting sea-ice.

Sea gooseberries strain the water
with their stinging filaments,

their beating cilia
scatter the sun's rays

into dazzling bursts of colour.

Beneath the breaking sea ice,
a predatory sea slug

flies through the water
on translucent wings.

It's on the trail
of a peculiar swimming snail.

And now the most voracious
of the plankton-eaters

swim up from the depths...

Arctic cod.

The shoals can be enormous,
some containing 500 million fish

and predators travel hundreds
of miles to feast on them.

The cod harvest is THE annual event

for the birds and seals
of the far North.

For just a short period,

the combination of the strengthening
sun, the newly-flowing rivers

and the breaking sea ice make
the Arctic Ocean teem with life.

The land is also transformed
by the sun's heat.

The small patches of bare ground
that appear are darker than the snow

so they absorb more
of the sun's energy.

This accelerates the melt.

The Arctic tundra is unveiled.

By tracking the sun, Arctic poppies
catch its rays around the clock,

so their flowers are always warmer
than their surroundings.

For early season insects,
this warmth is even more valuable

than nectar if they're
to stay active in the cold.

The woolly bear caterpillar does not
need the warmth from flowers

to kick-start its spring.

It's always the first insect
to appear after the snow retreats

and the story of how it does so
is truly astonishing.

At the start of spring, the
caterpillar eats as fast as it can,

as indeed it must, for this far
north, the season will be brief.

The days shorten only too soon,
but the caterpillar has not yet

got enough reserves
to transform itself into a moth.

It can't leave the Arctic,
for it can't fly,

so it settles down beneath a rock.

The sun's warmth rapidly dwindles.

Beneath the rock, the caterpillar
is out of the wind,

but the cold penetrates
deep into the ground.

Soon, its heart stops beating.

It ceases to breathe,
and its body starts to freeze...

first its gut, then its blood.

Spring.

After four months of darkness,
the Arctic begins to thaw.

And the caterpillar
rises from the dead.

By the time the first shoots
of willow appear

in the early spring, the woolly bear
is already eating.

But no matter how fast the woolly
bear eats, it will not have time

to gather enough food
this year, either,

and the cold closes in once again.

Year after year, the caterpillar
slows down in the autumn

and then freezes solid.

But eventually,
a very special spring arrives.

This one will be its last.

It's now 14 years old ...
the world's oldest caterpillar.

Its remaining days
now become frantic.

It starts to weave a silk cocoon.

Inside, its body is changing
into one that can fly and search,

abilities that will be crucial
in the days ahead.

It's waited over a decade for this
spring and now, its time is near.

All across the Arctic,
moths are emerging.

After completing
their 14-year preparation,

they now have just a few days
to find a partner and mate.

No life illustrates more vividly
the shortness of the Arctic spring

or the struggle to survive
in this most seasonal of places.

As spring advances,

the transformation
of the tundra continues.

Migrants begin arriving
from the south

and suddenly the tundra
is alive with birds and chicks.

The Arctic's transformation
is complete.

This influx of life is good news
for some permanent residents.

Food is rarely plentiful
out on the tundra.

The Arctic wolves must make the most
of this boom while it lasts.

The wolves must gather
as much food as they can.

Many miles from here, other members
of the pack are relying on them.

This barren landscape is a hard
place to make a living,

forcing wolf packs to be smaller
here than further south.

Six hungry mouths to feed.

The cubs are just over a month old.

The ducks are devoured instantly,
but on the long journey home,

they also caught an Arctic hare,
a mainstay of the tundra diet,

and one the cubs
seem to be particularly keen on.

Uneaten food is usually hidden
for leaner times,

but there will be
no leftovers today.

The cubs are growing fast
and are always hungry.

The good times are certainly back,
but these white wolves remind us

of the Arctic's less welcoming side.

Their coats are pale to conceal them
during the long, snowy winter.

It's easy to forget
that one month ago,

this land was a barren,
white desert.

At the southern end of our planet,

the Antarctic sea ice
is still at its greatest extent.

But there are a few islands
on its outer edge

that the sea ice
never quite reaches.

South Georgia is washed by the rich
waters of the Southern Atlantic

and the comparative warmth
of the sea

takes the edge off
the vicious southern winter.

It's even possible
for a few hardy animals,

like the Wandering Albatross, to
live here throughout the whole year.

The enormous Albatross chicks
take 13 months to fledge,

so they have no choice but
to sit here throughout the winter.

It can't be easy,
but the thick layer of fluffy down

keeps out the worst of the cold.

Their parents travel thousands
of miles to collect the fish

and squid they need
to stay warm and to grow.

The season is turning and storms
blow in with little warning.

King penguins have also been here
all winter.

Their chicks survive by huddling
in creches to conserve their heat.

A solitary bird here standing alone
would quickly die of exposure.

It seems for a hardy few, violent
storms are a price worth paying

for year-round fishing in the
rich waters of the southern ocean.

The penguins have had the beach
to themselves all winter,

but that is a luxury
that will not last.

As the winter storms subside,
life begins to return.

For half of the year, South Georgia
has the greatest concentration

of sea birds in the world

and most of them arrive
in the early spring.

Macaroni penguins make
the most impressive entrance...

over five million pairs of them.

They are the world's
most numerous penguin

and half of them are now here.

The arrival is complete.

Courtship is next on South Georgia's
busy spring schedule.

The Wandering Albatross
has the most elaborate display.

These two are renewing their bonds
after being months apart.

Wanderers pair up in their teens

and can spend
a further 50 years together...

one of the longest partnerships
in the animal world.

By the middle of spring,
the snows have cleared

from the coves and the low ground.

The beaches are almost free
of ice too,

but that isn't the biggest change
facing the king penguins.

Their peaceful waterfront has turned
into an obstacle course of blubber.

The elephant seals have arrived.

This beach now contains
a greater mass of animals

than any other in the world.

The young seals
were conceived here a year ago,

and now that they've been born,

their mothers are ready
to mate again.

The mating rights on this patch of
the beach belong to a beach master.

His harem contains 50 females...

females that are coveted by others.

His authority is being challenged.

This rival means business.

This could be the beach master's
first serious test

of his spring campaign.

The beach master himself
weighs four tonnes,

but this rival is his equal.

When these titans clash,

bones crunch.

He has won the first battle,

but he may have to defend his harem
every hour for the next month.

If he can stay master
of his beach for this period,

many of the young born here
next year will be his.

It's the end of spring on
the Wandering Albatross's cliffs,

their season for fledging.

Last year's chicks
have lost their fluffy down

and step up to the challenge
of getting into the air.

An albatross is not very
competent on the ground,

so until it can fly,
it isn't good for much

and this makes the maiden flight

The crucial event
in an albatross's life.

Managing the largest wing span
in the world takes practice...

lots of it.

Weeks can go by like this.

Certainly the winds must be right,
but it does appear that for some,

the problem is something
of a mental one.

At last.

The Southern Ocean beckons.

This bird's feet will not touch land
again for five years.

1,000 miles further south,

on the edge
of the Antarctic continent,

the sea ice is only just
starting to break.

But the Adelie penguin's activities
are certainly warming up.

The males have now finished
their nests by fair means or foul

and the females
are finally returning,

just as the weather is improving.

Now their courtship can begin.

The eggs are laid and the females
leave the job of incubating them

to the males, while they go fishing
out on the fragmenting sea ice.

Killer whales.

It's teamwork that makes
killer whales so dangerous.

And this is a big team.

There is no real need
for the penguins to be alarmed.

These killer whales
are a kind that only eats fish.

Rising out is simply the best way
for the whales to work out

which cracks lead towards the coast
and better fishing.

A new generation of Adelies
steps forth

into the short Antarctic spring

to be nurtured by industrious
parents who've taken great risks

to give their young a head start.

They will need to grow fast
if they are to fledge

and leave before the freeze
sets in again.

It's a battle they will win or lose
over the approaching summer.

To film the entire breeding cycle
of the Adelie penguin,

Frozen Planet sent a team to one
of the world's largest colonies,

at Cape Crozier, Antarctica.

I've heard so much about it
and read so much about it.

Finally we're going to get there.
It's good.

Cameraman Mark Smith
and director Jeff Wilson

plan to spend the next four months
living amongst the penguins

in a location first visited by
the early explorers a century ago.

So arduous was Scott's
winter expedition to Cape Crozier

that it became known as
"the worst journey in the world".

Wow, it's fantastic!

Modern means make Mark and Jeff's
journey a more comfortable affair,

but once there, they will be tested

to the very limits
of their endurance.

The pair arrive in early spring

with enough supplies to
survive the next four

months working alone in
the Antarctic wilderness.

We're here!

Scott's legend of Cape Crozier
tells of some extreme weather,

to say the least,

so Mark and Jeff take advantage
of the clear conditions,

in the knowledge that
the Adelies' arrival is imminent.

But the next morning,
things take a turn for the worse.

We've just come up to this ridge

to go and check what it looks like
down in the colony.

But even here you can hear...

a huge kind of roaring noise

up on the hill. Never really heard
anything like that before.

Up there, it must be blowing
the most almighty gale,

and that is, pff, you know,
just a mile away or something.

So that means that that could
get here very, very quickly.

So yeah, it makes you slightly
scared. It's weird, isn't it?

The winds here
are famously ferocious,

and with so little experience
of this location,

Mark and Jeff retreat to
the relative shelter of their hut.

I was just stood here thinking,
"Well, it can't be too bad,"

"because we haven't seen rocks
starting to blow around yet,"

and just at that moment a rock
took off and rolled down there.

Dear, it's getting stronger.

By the second day of the storm,
the winds reach 80 miles an hour,

and it's apparent that even getting
lunch from the outside larder

is too risky.

To their increasing alarm,
the storm continues to build.

All afternoon, it's
been blowing about...

must have been 100
miles an hour,

and in the last half-hour
it's just got a lot stronger.

Aside from being utterly terrified,

there's the added worry that our
gear is stashed outside somewhere.

We didn't have room for it
in the hut,

and we don't know whether it's
going to be there in the morning,

which could spell
the end of our trip.

On the third day of the storm,
the winds hit 130 miles an hour.

The hut starts to shake
from its very foundations,

and Mark and Jeff's situation
becomes critical.

The wind's so strong,

it's constantly blowing the pilot
light out on the paraffin stove,

so the temperature's dropping.

The wind's rising. Sounds like
the bloody roof's coming off.

The really scary thing is that
had we gone out down to the colony

and tried to film today,

there's a very high likelihood
that we'd be dead by now.

And I don't say that lightly.

There's no way we would have
seen this through down there.

And that is quite sobering.

After four terrifying days
inside the hut,

the winds finally drop,
and Mark and Jeff are keen to see

what, if any, equipment
has survived.

All the real important stuff,
the camera stuff, is all still here,

and it's still strapped
to this rock.

You have no idea
how much joy that gives us.

We can get on with our jobs now!

The first things to welcome us
to the colony are these skuas,

which come in
and batter us from above.

At its height, the colony will swell
to over half a million penguins,

and in the 24-hour daylight
of the Antarctic summer,

Mark and Jeff spend
all of their waking hours filming.

Unpredictable weather
continues to force the team

to climb the two miles back to
the relative shelter of their hut,

and Mark devises a novel way
of testing the wind speed.

Stop!

After six weeks,
the first sign that the pair

might be tiring
of their penguin neighbours.

Over there's a leopard seal.

It's the first non-penguin-looking
animal in two months!

Will you look at that?
It's a leopard seal!

I was down here
filming the penguins coming in,

followed this penguin that came
out of the waves up the beach,

very nice shot, stopped the shot

and there in the middle of the frame
was this completely white penguin...

trying to get into the shot.

We suspect that he might be
following us around now.

Working around the clock
for this length of time

in the presence
of half a million screaming penguins

would test anyone's resolve.

I hate carrying gear. Hear that?
I hate carrying gear.

I don't want to do it any more.

Midway through their trip, after more
than 1,000 hours amongst the penguins,

their grip on reality
is beginning to loosen.

Here we are
on the penguin superhighway,

where the penguins
go down to the sea.

It seems that they follow
the American system...

driving on the right, going down
to the sea on the right,

coming back from the sea on
the left as you're facing the sea.

I'm fairly sure that yesterday
they were doing the British system.

The legendary Cape Crozier weather
soon snaps them back into reality.

I'm just filming the penguins

with this huge kind of wind storm

coming over the ice cap,

the kind of thing we were warned
about by the guy who was here before,

who has been here several
years, saying "With"

skies like this, you
should run for home".

But we're just going to stay
and film it.

Because we're the BBC!

But in this part of the world,

working for the BBC
doesn't count for much.

Within minutes,
the winds reach hurricane strength,

and the crew are in serious trouble.

So, we've got to now venture out
and go about a mile up this valley,

which looks like it's got
about 80mph winds blowing down it.

So it's going to be
quite an adventure.

Bit frightening, though, really.

After three months,
the pair are now fully aware

of the strength the winds can reach.
Getting a little stronger now!

There is a very real danger

that they could be separated and
lost in these white-out conditions.

Two terrifying hours later,
and their relief

at finally reaching the
hut is tangible.

With a month still to go
at Cape Crozier,

Mark, Jeff and the penguins will
face many more storms like this.

But it seems
their greatest challenge

will be to maintain their sanity.

Here we are, travelling through
the Antarctic by sled.

We're being pulled by a herd of
huskies.

12 of them panting out front,
breath steaming from their mouths.

And as we go along,

we see the happy people waving at us.