All language subtitles for Oceans.Weirdest.S01E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10

This is the world's wettest arena.

Where everyone's competing
for the biggest prize.

Survival.

But that's not so easy...

when everyone's gotta eat.

There's no attack too weird.

And no defense too deviant.

in Oceans Weirdest, "Predation Games."

The sun rises across Mexico's
glittering Gulf of California.

Its nutrient-rich waters
are paradise for sardines.

This school of small fish is here to feast
on a night-time cocktail of plankton.

All they need to do is relax in the sun
and wait for their meal.

Ah! Trouble in paradise.

The sardines make
for a tasty meal themselves.

Which is why they travel together
in large groups.

Safety in numbers.

But hang on.

That really doesn't look like
there's safety in numbers.

Well, here's how it works.

When the school is loose and relaxed,
it's hard for the predators.

Just try and follow a single fish.

It's a sensory overload.

But things change
once predator numbers increase.

And if they can split a smaller school
away from the main mass,

the sensory overload
starts working the other way.

The fish huddle together.

So many dangers

from all sides.

The predators just take fish, after fish,

until...

Phew! Thank goodness that's over.

Finally, it's the sardines turn.

Night-time is when tiny zoo plankton
amass at the water's surface to feed.

It's the largest synchronized movement
of biomass on the planet.

And that's exactly
what these fish are after.

But there's more trouble in paradise.

Squid.

Humboldt squid

ascend from the deep at night...

in search of food.

They're decked out to kill.

With tentacles that hold up to
200 hooked suckers,

and a beak for tearing into prey,

they'd eat each other,
given the opportunity.

The sardines don't stand a chance.

Using chromatophore cells
the Humboldt squid flash to communicate.

"I'm going in for the kill."

"I'm changing direction."

"Get out of my way,

"or you'll be sorry."

"Told you."

Strange, such frenzied killers
can be such high-level communicators.

As dawn breaks,
they head back down to the deep.

The sun rises across
Mexico's glittering Gulf of California,

its nutrient-rich waters
are paradise for sardines?

Watch out, little fishies!

Some predators work hard to survive.

And some survive on others hard work.

Meet the opportunists.

Our featured opportunist
feeds on spawning salmon.

A brown bear.

Your quintessential predatory scene.

But weird?

No.

But what if, instead of a six-pound snack

the bear was foraging
for a one ton feast?

Ah! That got your attention

And what if it wasn't from the river,

but the ocean?

And what if it wasn't salmon,

but a whale?

But how, you ask?

Let's start here, in the waters
around Alaska's Aleutian Islands.

It's summertime and the sun barely sets.

It sets off phytoplankton blooms
that feed animals...

that feed bigger animals...

that feed even bigger animals.

Whales spend the summer
gorging on the abundance.

Fattening up to prepare for winter.

Like this grey whale and her calf.

She tips the scales at 30 tons,

and the calf is already
in the one-ton club!

But it's a popular spot.

Orca.

They're known around these parts
for harassing the guests.

They're nick-named Killer
and run in packs.

These guys are smart.

And they're not here for the plankton.

Now, warning,
what you're about to see isn't pretty,

but orca have to eat too.

All the orca have to do is

separate the young calf
from its mother to drown it.

Mum tries to defend it.

But in the end,

the only thing she can do
is save herself.

Okay! That was intense.

So, here's a tiny bobtail squid

covering itself in sand
as a bit of a palate cleanser.

After several hours of feeding,

the corpse is stored
on the seabed for later.

See? Smart!

Except for...

buoyancy.

Sometimes carcasses float to the surface.

So now, going back to where we started.

Every brown bear within a two-mile radius

can smell a potential feast.

And after the fight for first dibs...

Feast they do.

There's no saving it for later
for the bears,

they'll gorge themselves sleepy.

And why not?

They're here to make the most
of the orcas' hard work.

All that blubber's perfect
for spring-fattening after hibernation.

And it provides a much heartier
meal in one sitting than this.

Now speaking of hearty.

The Predation games are about to make room

for some real heavy hitters.

Nature.

Soothing.

Tranquil.

Peaceful.

We know better than that!

It's an all-out arms race.

And leading the charge

ae the prize fighters!

Like the great white shark.

It's known as a cold-blooded killer,

but it's going through an identity crisis.

Let me explain.

Take a look at most fish.

They're cold-blooded ectotherms.

The same temperature
as the water, pretty cold.

They rely on external sources
to warm them up, like the sun.

Being cold requires less energy
than being warm

so ectotherms eat less.

Meanwhile...

warm-blooded endotherms
generate their own body heat.

But to do that they have to eat more.

So why bother?

Because being warm-blooded
allows them to perform at any time

and maintain peak performance
for longer.

So, they need fuel.

Endotherm, eat more, perform longer.

Ectotherm, eat less, perform less.

It's a trade-off.

Which brings us back to the shark.

The sun may be shining,

but it's down in the depths.

It wants to shake its reputation,
as a cold-blooded killer.

Because it's actually
a warm-blooded killer.

It's part endothermic.

So, what to do?

Should it go slow
and maintain its reputation?

Or use that warm-blooded,
heat-generating body

to really chase those seals.

Sometimes it's best to embrace
all sides of yourself.

It can slowly cruise the depths,

ready for a high-speed ambush
when the time is right!

The best of both worlds.

Doesn't it feel good to celebrate
after a win?

The name's shrimp,
peacock mantis shrimp.

He's a secret agent.

So secret,

he's not even a shrimp at all.

He's a stomatopod,
a distant relative of the lobster.

And all good secret agents
need a mission.

Secret Agent Shrimp,

your mission
should you choose to accept it.

First, establish your personal HQ.

Second, defend HQ against enemy agents.

Finally, find enemy agent The Crab

and end him!

Good luck, Agent Peacock Mantis Shrimp.

Burrow time.

At the base of a coral reef
is prime position.

Out of the way of prying eyes,
but close enough to the action.

Coral will make a strong structure.

A u-shape means easy in, easy out.

And it pays to have an exit strategy.

HQ complete.

But no agent is complete without gadgets.

Agent Peacock Mantis Shrimp has some of
the best gadgets in the animal kingdom.

His eyes.

He has in-built infrared,
he can detect UV light.

he sees circular polarized light.

What does that mean?

Well it's hard to know because
it's impossible for us to imagine.

But it makes him awesome.

Rather than processing everything he sees,

one theory goes
he filters only what he needs,

and acts.

His left eye did that
while his right eye spotted this shrimp.

An enemy agent
looking to steal his burrow.

Not today.

Ritualized combat
decides who is the stronger.

Mission two complete. Burrow defended,
enemy agent neutralized.

Final mission.

Take on The Crab.

If you thought his eye-tech was crazy,
check out this extreme gadget.

Powered by stored elastic energy,

he releases
his raptorial appendage and...

Boom!

Fifty miles per hour.

Acceleration similar to
a .22-calibre bullet.

Delivering 340 pounds of force.

Best eyesight.

Fastest punch.

Good job, Agent Peacock Mantis Shrimp.

Not all predators are made equal.

Some are even weirder than others.

We've met oceans weirdest prize fighters.

Now let's meet...

the surprise fighters.

Crabs.

A highly successful animal.

They've colonized all the world's oceans,
and even found in freshwater and on land.

But they have a very small brain
that's not great at solving problems.

Like how to get out of, a cage.

On the opposite end of the spectrum,
you've got a giant Pacific octopus.

He has a complex
and adaptable intelligence.

But he's shy.

He'd prefer not to have to leave his den.

But he has to, for food.

Like crabs.

To find them,
he'll use all nine of his brains.

Along with his central brain,
he has one in each arm.

So, his arms can function
under their own control.

With suckers that smell and taste.

The perfect predatory device.

If he lost an arm,
it could carry on working without him.

But he still has all of his.

What he doesn't have
is a good set of social skills.

He'd prefer to go unseen.
So, he has a clever workaround.

Camouflage.

Even his skin is clever, it contains
the same protein pigments as his eyes.

In essence, it sees the change
it needs to become.

The perfect solution
to prevent awkward encounters.

The crabs meanwhile
have no solution to their problem.

Which is a bonus for our brainiac.

Except when you can't get to them.

Step one, come up with an alternative.

Step two, use your brains.

Step three, squeeze your bone free body
through the tight space and get out.

Problem solved.

Solving problems, tool use, and memory,
are all things he's capable of.

What he seems perfectly capable of
right now...

is eating more.

Without a cage in the way,

he goes for his usual style.

He's managed to catch enough take-away

to save him from having to leave his den
for a while.

Where he doesn't have to socialize
and he doesn't have to clean up.

The coral reef.

It's a tough neighborhood.

Competition... breeds killers.

To survive here you need to be fierce.

Especially when you're as small
as a quarter-inch long.

Meet, the nudibranchs.

They run this place.

Thousands of different varieties
pretty much left to their own devices.

But how do you get to be a top predator

when you look like little more
than a colorful, gooey blob?

By being made of tough stuff.

Nudibranchs are so tough
they do what most can't,

eat coral.

Their digestive system is really clever.

It helps them consume toxic oils that make
them taste bad enough to be left alone.

But some are even tougher than that.

Corals are relatives of jellyfish.

Deadly to most
because of their nematocysts.

What's a nematocyst you ask?

They're nasty little stingers,
that detonate like tiny hand grenades.

Blasting excruciating,
paralyzing venom harpoons

at anything that comes close.

But the nudibranch can handle it.

By storing unexploded stingers

right at the tip of its digestive tract
in its spikey cerata.

Perfectly placed
to deal with any wise guy.

But most know the score
and keep well away.

Why?

The nudies broadcast their toughness.

Those colors are an aposematic warning.

They're saying, "Best case I'll taste bad,
worst case I'll poison you."

Either way,

back off.

So, what's as tough as a nudibranch
you ask?

Another nudibranch.

And what's weirder
than a nudibranch you ask?

Oh, so many things.

And they only get weirder.

In an arms race, it helps to have a lot.

Meet the players
that will leave you seeing stars!

It's said that counting stars
is like trying to count grains of sand.

If that's the case,
you're in the right place.

There are around 2,000 species
of star in the ocean.

Sea stars, hanging out everywhere.

Everywhere.

Everywhere.

And they're busy.

Eating.

Some are invasive eating machines.

This crown-of-thorns sea star can cause
serious destruction to coral reefs.

Hold on!

We all know how nature works,
something must be eating the sea stars.

There's always
some kind of balance at play!

Right, here we go.

Meet, harlequin shrimp.

Gorgeous!

This flamboyant little pair
love the same activities

and share the same tastes.

They've been together for years. Aw!

All two inches of them.

Stop! Hang on!

Do you expect me to believe they hunt
on prey over seven times their size?

Oh, look, they do too.

In fact, they exclusively hunt and dine
on sea stars.

It's how they keep
their relationship alive.

Their antennules help them
sense a star nearby.

The hunt is on!

Before the sea star knows it,
it's surrounded.

The harlequins shrimp's sharp
pointed claws pierce the soft tissue.

And their large plate-shaped claw
helps them flip their prey.

Suddenly their size
doesn't seem like such an issue.

And on its back, the sea star is helpless.

It's got thousands of tube feet
but it ain't going nowhere.

It's even retracted them as if it knows
what's about to happen.

The shrimp dine out on its soft tissue,
digestive gland and gonads.

Eating the sea star alive.

On some hunts, sea stars will shed a limb
to try to save themselves.

But the shrimp just see that as a buffet.

They'll be back for the rest.

It's all part of keeping sea-star numbers
in check.

But don't be alarmed!

There are still plenty of sea stars
to go around.

Like any bustling metropolis,

different seafloor communities
prefer different living arrangements.

You've got your high-density living,

where sun-seeking coral
prefer the pent-house.

While, sand dollars all want a piece
of the soft, sandy, substrate.

And some live in tough neighborhoods.

Like this big bully.

His name, sunflower sea star.

But there's nothing sunny about him.

Or flowery for that matter.

He's big, 11 pounds, 24 arms

and 15,000 suckered feet big.

He wants dollars.

- Sand dollars.

And he's coming to collect.

He can move at over three feet per minute.

On the seafloor,
that's practically a sprint.

The slow-moving sand dollars
pay the ultimate price.

He's eaten them.

But there are others that have the anatomy
to put up more of a fight.

Like an alarm system, this cockle
has tiny tentacles outside his shell

that sense the sea stars approach.

His best defense is to put his foot down.

He can propel himself away fast enough
for the sea star to have to give chase.

But his one-footed jump is too slow
to shake the speedy star.

The sea star uses all his suckers
to pry open the shell

and make a meal of our cockle.

But all bullies
eventually meet their match.

The Puget Sound king crab.

There's a new boss in town.

With his right claw made for cutting,
the crab takes the win.

And an arm.

It looks bad.

But you don't have this many arms
without a few tricks up your sleeve.

Sunflower sea star will regrow
the severed arm.

And next time?

He'll keep away from the crab.

But keeping away from weird
is easier said than done.

Especially when it's all around you.

We've seen brute force at its best.

But what about brains and teamwork?

Let's meet the players using
tactical moves.

When it comes to popularity,

dolphins are like the good-looking jocks
of the animal kingdom.

Athletic, coordinated
and part of a winning team.

But to stay on top you need to innovate,

which might explain
the bottlenose dolphins'

weird compulsion for developing new moves.

And like any championship team,
they're looking to score big.

Match day, the Florida Keys.

The opposition has arrived.

Mullet.

Conditions are looking perfect.

The water's about three feet deep,
the mud is soft.

- Kick off!

The dolphins are using the mud
to their advantage,

slamming their flukes into the sediment.

It's a tactical move.

Generating muddy walls
that confuse their opponents.

Surrounded by dark clouds, they leap.

Right out of the water.

But this pod isn't the only team
with winning moves.

Different teams have different tactics

and they're so niche,
they're habitat specific.

In South Carolina,

the bottlenose dolphins have developed
a winning play of their own.

And they've turned this shallow water
into a scoring advantage.

The players take their positions.

Then rush the shore in formation.

With nowhere else to go,
the mullet are chased right onto the bank.

The dolphins always surge
with their right flanks down.

Experts still aren't sure why,
but it's sure working for the dolphins.

It's another winning formula in
the bottlenose's predation playbook.

Chameleons.

In nature, it's one of these.

In language, it's a term used to describe
a changeable

or inconstant character.

So, in that sense,
it could be one of these.

A brown pelican.

There are eight different species
of pelican all told,

but the brown could be considered
the most changeable.

They seem happy enough with their lot,
and why not?

Who cares about a bit of waddling

when you can spend the day
preening oil into your feathers?

There's the comfort
of a dedicated partner,

well for this season at least.

And then there's a ready supply
of food nearby.

But how does this,

catch that?

That's where the brown's chameleon-like
change and inconstancy come in.

Where most other pelicans
fish from the water's surface,

brown pelicans dive for food.

They transform from clumsy landlubbers

into flying aces.

Their six-and-a-half-foot wingspan
lifts them on the wind.

Precision eyesight means pinpoint accuracy
from over 60 feet.

Target locked.

Dive initiated.

Retract head.

Wings bent.

Brace for impact.

No easy feat for this 11-pound bird.

Their bodies hide air-sacs
that cushion the blow of landing.

So they can scoop two and a half gallons
of water and fish

into their gular pouch.

All that sea salt can wreak havoc
on even the most robust rig.

But the brown pelican can handle it.

A special gland near his eye
excretes excess salt from his system.

Like a finely-tuned machine.

Makes you look at them in a whole new way.

Well, almost.

Pelicans are weird.

But not as weird as it gets.

Get ready to meet the award winners!

Some things are so weird,
they defy explanation.

But deserve an award.

Welcome to Oceans Weirdest awards night!

Welcome to the four billionth
annual Weird Predator Awards!

Coming to you live from the ocean's
beautiful tropical reef,

tonight we bring you all the glamor!

Four billion years of evolution has
created these streamlined physiques.

Stunning outfits, outstanding beauty.

But all these star qualities

are an attempt
to carve out a niche in this,

the most competitive environment
in the ocean.

And then there's the blue streaked wrasse.

Now, she may not be part
of the glitterati,

but she helps make them shine.

She works at a cleaning station

carefully chomping off
customers' dead skin and parasites.

She has a great reputation and can clean
up to 2,000 fish per day.

There's a tacit agreement at work,
you don't bite the mouth that cleans you.

Like most clients,

this four-foot long moray eel
is packing a lot of parasites.

Making the wrasse one small
but well-fed little predator.

But it's a competitive market

and she's about to risk everything
for a craving.

She's producing eggs and wants
her client's nutrient-rich mucus.

Which is strictly off limits.

So she's running a scam.

She needs to wait for the right target.

This sweetlips has potential.

She cleans him properly to start,
before nipping off mucus.

Ah, that's one customer
that won't be returning.

But with more clients waiting
it seems she's got away with it.

Still she'll need to cheat carefully

if she's to keep her reputation intact.

Welcome back to the four billionth
annual Weird Predator Awards.

The nominees for this year's
Most Venomous on the reef are.

The blue-ringed octopus.

The banded sea krait.

The lionfish.

And the stonefish.

- And the winner is...

The banded sea krait!

He always wins.

He's 10 times more venomous
than a rattlesnake.

But it's not just the venom
that impressed the judges.

They were also impressed by the fact

that he nests on land
but hunts on the reef, adaptable.

His flattened tail acts as a paddle
but it has a second purpose.

It looks a bit like his head.

So when he's busy searching
the reef for prey,

potential predators don't sneak up on him.

But really,
it's not the sea krait that's in danger.

He is the danger.

It's a moray eel he's looking for.

There's one.

Look how clean he is.

His best option is to hide.

The eel is big, but not big enough
to deter the sea krait.

The neurotoxins in the snake's venom
paralyze the eel.

The snake can take all the time he needs

to swallow the eel down
for slow digestion.

Congratulations once again
to the banded sea krait.

But let's not forget
the rest of the ocean's weirdos.

They're winners too.

After four billion years of evolution,

to even take part in the predation games
is an incredible accomplishment.