All language subtitles for South.Pacific.E01.Ocean.of.Islands.1080p.BluRay.DTS.x264-NaRB_track3_[eng]

The South Pacific.

The name is familiar,

but 230 years
after Captain Cook's epic voyages,

this vast ocean remains little known.

In the endless blue,

isolated islands harbour life
that's rarely seen.

And these are some
of the most pristine waters of any ocean.

The turquoise seas

and picture-postcard islands
look like heaven on Earth.

But all is not what it seems.

The South Pacific
also has an unforgiving nature.

Islands born from volcanic seas

erupt with unique
and extreme ways of life.

People succeeded here
against the odds.

The South Pacific is a tale
of the unexpected...

...a forgotten world where isolation
has created the bizarre and surprising.

This is the story of life
in an ocean of islands.

Out of the blue,
a giant emerges from the deep.

Right now, the monster moves silently,

but it's equipped
with an awesome force.

Some of the largest waves in the world
break on South Pacific islands.

Their birth sums up the scale
of this ocean.

The storm swell that made these waves

has travelled 3,000 miles
to reach this shallow reef.

These distances proved a great challenge
for animal castaways,

but when they found new land,
many evolved into new species.

Human colonisers followed similar routes,

and the ocean that isolated them
from the rest of the world

became central to their culture.

The big waves were an inspiration,

and riding them has been a tradition here
for more than 1,500 years.

No other ocean has had a greater impact

on the lives of so many different animals
and cultures than the South Pacific,

and it's all down to its massive size.

The whole Pacific Ocean is so large,

you could fit the world's continents
inside it

with nearly enough room
for another Africa.

Ten thousand miles wide,
less than one per cent is land.

Best known are the Hawaiian islands.

They sit 1,500 miles
north of the equator,

but their story was shaped by the south.

The South Pacific is made up
of thousands of islands

united by cultures
and bound together by ocean currents.

Most of the land sits in warm waters,

but travel south
and the character of the islands change.

New Zealand is not tropical
but temperate.

The ocean currents
which cool New Zealand's waters

occasionally bring icebergs.

Starting in the Antarctic,
they've drifted for nearly eight months...

...on the way, passing the most southerly
outpost in the South Pacific.

Where New Zealand's
temperate seas merge

with the icy waters of the Southern Ocean,
lies a solitary piece of land...

85 miles of wave-lashed coastline.

It looks desolate,
but it's not deserted.

At certain times of year,
there's more life here

than on any other island in the Pacific.

In August, after months at sea,
elephant seals arrive.

They depend on this island for breeding.

Macquarie will soon be heaving
with 60,000 elephant seals,

but they won't have the beaches
to themselves.

One month later, another wave
of migrants appear in the surf.

These are royal penguins,

and they're about to have their first
sighting of land in seven months.

They've spent that time hunting
for fish and shrimp in the open ocean.

One last hurdle
and they're back on terra firma.

This island is actually
the only solid ground

these penguins will ever set foot on.

Macquarie's nearest neighbour
is more than 400 miles away,

and in the opposite direction
from their favourite feeding grounds.

Within days of the first arrivals,
it's standing room only.

Nobody knows exactly how
these penguins navigate back to Macquarie,

but with this many adults returning
every year to breed, it clearly works.

Out in the open ocean,
royal penguins lead solitary lives,

so these cramped conditions
take a bit of getting used to.

Disputes settled, it's time
to renew old acquaintances.

The elephant seals
have also settled down...

even if some still play hard to get.

Though it's not easy
turning down the advances

of a suitor six times your size.

A gentle nuzzle,
and she appears won over.

And it's not just love that's in the air.

At these southerly latitudes,

ocean winds bring rain
six-and-a-half days out of seven.

And when it doesn't rain...

it snows.

It couldn't be more different from the
clichéd image of a South Pacific island.

But surprisingly, what makes
Macquarie so rich in wildlife

also benefits other islands
in the tropical South Pacific,

thousands of miles away.

Macquarie's penguins and seals depend on

a cold, nutrient-rich current...
and that doesn't stop here.

Powered by the strongest winds
in the world, the current continues east

until it hits the tip of South America,
where it's driven northwards.

Over 8,000 miles later,
the cold current reaches the equator

and a remote archipelago...

The water has warmed up
on the journey north,

but it's still cold and nutrient-rich.

This has allowed some animals to live here
which you wouldn't normally find

this close to the equator.

Sea lions.

Isolated on the Galápagos,
they've been here so long

they've become a separate species.

When the surf's up,

the sea lions spend hours
just messing around in the waves.

Surfing burns a lot of energy,
and they can only do it

because these cold seas support
vast numbers of fish.

The sea lions share
these nutrient-rich waters

with another equatorial misfit.

Penguins -

the only penguins found in the tropics.

Like the sea lions,
Galápagos penguins can survive here

because the water
keeps them cool and well fed.

But these conditions are not constant.

In El Niño years, when currents reverse,
warm waters replace cold,

fish populations crash

and then, stuck on Galápagos,
penguins and sea lions starve.

Their numbers will bounce back,

but it's the price these animals pay
for life on these isolated islands.

There are thousands of islands
in the South Pacific.

Many are unbelievably remote.

Some are thousands of miles away
from the nearest continent

and hundreds of miles
from their nearest neighbour.

Imagine each island as a castle,

and the ocean a giant moat stretching
to the horizon in every direction,

and you have captured the essence
of their isolation.

It's a wonder how any life
reached these islands at all.

But no matter how remote
or small an island is,

animals have somehow conquered
the massive ocean barrier

to reach these specks of land.

For the lucky few that made it,

South Pacific islands provided
great opportunities.

Once here,
they had the freedom to be different.

Crabs may not seem unusual,

but there's one kind here
that's like no other.

On this little island in Vanuatu
lives a real oddity.

It's the largest terrestrial invertebrate
on Earth...

...the robber crab.

The biggest can weigh
up to four kilograms -

the same as a newborn baby -

and have a leg span of one metre.

It's a hermit crab on steroids.

At night, the huge "robbers"
really come alive.

Although these crabs are found
throughout the Pacific,

it's only on undisturbed islands
that you can see them in such numbers.

Exactly why robber crabs
have grown so big is a mystery,

but with so few creatures making it
to these remote islands,

the giant crustaceans

seem to have filled a niche normally taken
by medium-sized mammals.

And with almost no competition
from other native animals,

the crabs' huge size allows them to make
the most of another great coloniser -

something found here in abundance.

Coconuts are one
of their favourite foods -

it's why they're also called
"coconut crabs" -

and they've been known to carry them
as far as three miles to a favourite den.

Robber crabs are perhaps the only animals
in the world able to break into a coconut.

The husk is ripped off
by powerful pincers.

Other legs drill through
the germinating holes on the seed itself

until the nut finally cracks.

The whole process
can take several hours,

but the reward
is a meal rich in protein.

Robber crabs may rule the land,
but they're no masters of the sea.

An adult crab would drown in
a few minutes, which raises the question -

how did these monsters get to so many of
the South Pacific's most isolated islands?

This female carries the answer -

thousands of eggs, which will soon be left
to the mercy of the ocean currents.

A few shakes of her tail are all
that's needed to send them on their way.

The eggs will hatch immediately.

Then the larvae will have just 50 days
to find a new home above the water.

For animal castaways,

finding new land in this vast ocean
was a chance in a million.

To beat the odds, luck was needed,

sometimes coming
from an unlikely source.

Cyclones.

Each year, these powerful, tropical storms
form over the huge ocean.

The largest can span
more than 600 miles.

Cyclones are one of the most destructive
forces in the South Pacific.

Yet surprisingly,
they have played a critical role

in spreading life
to the loneliest islands.

And few islands
are more remote than these.

Two thousand miles
from the nearest continent,

Hawaii is the world's
most isolated archipelago.

It's so far-flung,

that less than 500 kinds of animal
settled here in 30 million years.

Remarkably, many of these colonisers

were carried to Hawaii
on the back of cyclones.

For an animal to be sucked up by
storm winds, carried across the ocean

and dumped here alive
was a matter of extraordinary luck.

Yet that's what happened
to the ancestor of this insect.

It's a kind of fruit fly...

but no ordinary one.

Hawaii's fruit flies are the birds
of paradise of the insect world.

They attract females
with elaborate courtship rituals

and have a sophisticated range
of territorial behaviour.

Male hammerhead flies
use their heads as battering rams.

A male clavisetae fruit fly fans
sex pheromones from his raised abdomen.

His extended tongue
is an added attraction.

Since that first coloniser,

they have evolved
into nearly 1,000 species,

many with their own unique behaviour.

When it comes to choosing a mate,
females are very fussy.

One wrong move by her suitor
and she's off.

Hawaii's isolation
has had a curious effect

on the evolution
of some of its other wildlife, too.

Crawling around these ferns
are caterpillars.

They're the larvae of a moth
and look ordinary enough.

But these tiny caterpillars are perhaps
the strangest of their kind in the world.

When one finds the right spot,
it settles down to chew through a leaf.

So far, so normal.

But the caterpillar is not
actually swallowing the bits of leaf.

It's channelling a gap
between the segments.

When finished,
it'll tuck itself into the space.

So what is so strange
about this animal?

Well, those are not
your typical caterpillar feet,

and what follows is not
your typical caterpillar behaviour.

This is a carnivorous caterpillar...

...with a vice-like hold
and a bite to match.

Hawaii's numerous fruit flies were just
too good an opportunity to ignore.

And the stick-like camouflage
of another kind of meat-eating caterpillar

is just as effective
when ambushing prey.

Nobody knows what set Hawaii's carnivorous
caterpillars on this extraordinary path,

but it's the sort of quirky evolution
that's common on isolated islands.

Each South Pacific island
has its own unique set of creatures.

With so many islands,
this adds up to thousands of animals

found nowhere else on Earth.

Isolated by miles of ocean,

human colonisers also developed
different ways of life.

Each culture has its own customs,
and some are truly bizarre.

The locals are in celebratory mood.

This man is about to perform
one of the strangest rituals in the world.

It's a tradition that tests the mettle
of the most courageous men.

Having a head for heights
is only the start.

Forest vines are tied around his ankles.

They will be his lifeline.

For centuries, Pentecost men
have been leaping head first

from wooden scaffolds with
only forest vines to break their fall...

...a tradition that inspired
modern bungee jumping.

The jumps may look like acts of madness,

but the festival's origins
have a serious side.

They celebrate the annual harvest
of their staple crop.

And with up to nine cyclones
pounding the South Pacific a year,

a successful harvest
is worth celebrating.

The close calls with Mother Earth
are not miscalculations.

The diver's hair is actually meant
to brush the ground

in a symbolic act of fertilisation.

And it's believed the closer
the jumper gets to the ground,

the taller the crops will grow
the next year.

Human history
across most of the South Pacific

dates back less than 2,000 years.

By comparison, animal colonisers
first arrived on these shores

over 30 million years ago.

Yet by the 12th century,

people had colonised
almost every habitable piece of land.

Surrounded by water, the ocean
became embedded in their culture -

sometimes in surprising ways.

In the Banks Islands,
women use the sea to make music.

And their songs celebrate
the creatures that live in it.

No matter where people settled
in the South Pacific,

their survival depended on

a deep understanding
of the ocean and its wildlife.

And one ocean event has featured
in the Pacific islanders' calendar

since they first arrived here.

It happens on just one night a year,
in November.

Armed with torches and homemade nets,

these islanders prepare for a harvest.

They gather in the reef shallows,

watching and waiting for
what will soon be a flurry of activity.

As the moon rises,

it triggers a natural phenomenon
and a very strange spectacle...

...the rising of worms -

palolo worms.

These are actually the worms' rear ends -
their reproductive segments.

The part with the head
remains in the coral rock.

When they reach the surface,
eggs and sperm will mix.

The tide washes the wriggling worms
into the shallows

where they are scooped up
by the bucketful.

The whole event lasts
just a couple of hours, but in that time,

hundreds of kilos can be gathered.

Rich in proteins and fats,

palolo worms are the caviar
of the South Pacific.

This may be a short-lived feast,

but living in the South Pacific means
making the most of anything going.

Every year, in June,
tiger sharks appear

in the shallow waters around this
scattering of tiny, sandy islands.

They've travelled hundreds of miles
in anticipation of an event

that lasts less than two weeks.

And their timing is impeccable.

Albatross chicks are sitting ducks.

The sharks may have lost
the element of surprise,

but their high visibility
will make little difference

to the albatross chicks' behaviour.

Right now, the focus is on flying.

For fledging albatross,
that's not as simple as you'd think.

The problem is
the island's runway is a bit short,

especially for a bird with one
of the world's longest wingspans.

The maiden flight
often ends in a wet landing.

And that's why the sharks are here.

With their highly acute senses,

they're onto the chicks
within a few moments of touchdown.

During two weeks of fledging,

over 100 albatross chicks
make the same fatal error...

and the sharks take full advantage.

In an ocean where food
can be surprisingly scarce,

this annual feast is something
these sharks depend on.

The size of many South Pacific islands
means that food is often limited.

The smaller and more isolated they are,
the harder it is to survive.

And in this ocean of islands,
there's one tiny island that stands out.

It's home to perhaps the most remote
community of people on the planet,

with a truly inspiring story.

These men are from the island of Anuta.

This fishing technique
is unique to their island

and essential when the weather
is too rough for their boats.

Octopus tentacles are used as bait.

And it's very effective.

Once a shoal has been found,
dozens of fish can be caught in this way.

The struggling fish are killed
with a quick bite to the head.

Anutans have more fishing techniques
than almost anywhere else in the Pacific -

a vital skill,
given the size of their island.

And this is it.

Just one-sixth
of a square mile in area.

Anuta is so small
that no matter where you are

the sound of the waves is ever present.

Life on Anuta has changed little

since these people's ancestors
arrived here nearly 400 years ago.

Many Anutans still spend their
entire lives on this remote speck of land.

Anuta's isolation has meant
that the 300 people who live here

have had to become completely
self-sufficient.

Almost every square metre of the island
is cultivated to grow staple crops

like taro or breadfruit.

Some food will be stored in the ground -
an insurance policy against cyclones.

With few trees on the island,

their wooden outrigger canoes
are treasured items.

Some have been in continuous use
for nearly 150 years.

Without them, these people
would struggle to survive here,

since it's the sea that Anutans look to
for many of their needs.

The men have a plan for
whichever direction the wind takes them.

They know the location
of every one of their reefs,

lining up landmarks on the island
to gauge their exact position.

It makes fishing trips very productive.

Anuta's isolation
has shaped their society.

Too far away to trade with other islands,

they have a strong community spirit.

Everything is shared and all work together
for the common good.

It's the secret of their success.

Anuta has one of the highest population
densities on Earth -

equal to that of Bangladesh -
yet on their tiny speck of land,

these people have always lived
completely within their resources.

It's a remarkable achievement,

and not one that is shared by all
who have made a home in the South Pacific.

Lost in the vastness of this ocean

is an island with a legendary tale
of over-exploitation.

This was once the most
inaccessible island in the world.

When the first people arrived here
1,000 years ago,

Easter Island was a paradise

thought to be richer in wildlife
than even the Galápagos.

Back then, its hills were cloaked
with a forest of giant palms.

It was also home to one of the largest
seabird colonies in the South Pacific.

Initially, life must have been easy
for the Easter Islanders, the Rapa Nui.

And with time on their hands,
they set to work

carving huge stone statues known as moai.

Before long, each clan was trying

to carve larger, grander figures
than those of their neighbours...

...competition
that was to be their undoing.

Vast quantities of wood were used
to transport the stone statues,

and slowly but surely, the Rapa Nui
used up their island's precious resources.

Eventually, their civilisation
descended into chaos and warfare.

Clan fought against clan,
with disastrous consequences.

By the time of their ultimate collapse,
the Rapa Nui

had changed their island
beyond recognition.

These are the hills
where the giant palm forest once stood.

And these are the cliffs that once rang to
the sound of those huge seabird colonies,

all hunted to extinction
by the Rapa Nui.

Today, the giant stone statues

are a poignant reminder of the precarious
nature of life on remote islands.

All South Pacific islanders
must make the most

of whatever resources they have...

...and the Anutans are no exception.

They harvest the wildlife that also
depends on this little piece of land.

Each hunter uses
his own preferred call.

The noise will lure their quarry
closer to their nets.

Noddy terns.

They've spent the day fishing out at sea,

so it's only when they return to roost
at night they can be caught.

It would be easy for the Anutans
to over-harvest the noddy terns -

even exterminate the colony.

But that's not the Anutan way.

Their approach ensures a future
for the next generation to enjoy.

Life has always been precarious
in the South Pacific,

but with the right balance,
both people and animals

will continue to thrive
in this great ocean of islands.

Some of the biggest waves in the world
break on South Pacific islands.

One of the aims of this series

was to capture the awesome power
of these natural forces from underwater.

So the team headed to Pohnpei
in the Caroline Islands...

...well known for big, barrelling waves.

On board was top surf cameraman
Bali Strickland.

Often you're like, "If I'd been one metre
that way, the shot would've been perfect."

So to actually get the perfect position
is pretty hard.

But Bali was used to a camera housing
this size, so how was he going to manage

with one this big?

German camera technician Rudi Diesel

had only finished building this housing
one day before the shoot.

Inside was a camera that could film
in super slow motion and high definition.

Until now, no-one had ever tried
using one underwater.

About to take a $100,000-plus camera
into the water.

Don't see much in the monitor.

Unfortunately,
the camera turned out to be...

well, camera shy.

- Oh, boy!
- The anticipation was there.

There was huge expectation.

When you're breaking new ground, you have
to be prepared for swings and roundabouts.

You have to be patient sometimes.

And there was another problem.

The waves were tiny -
more Cornwall than Carolines.

The team had brought along
world-class surfer Dylan Longbottom

to give some scale to the waves,
but it was having the opposite effect.

When you look at the size of the waves,
it's hard to imagine that in a single day,

if the conditions were right,
the wave would break way over your head

with this perfect barrel.

But there's no sign of it at the moment.

Next day, Rudi felt sure his custom-built
housing was now up and running.

OK, switch it on...

Yes, it works!

The words I like to hear most often
on a shoot - "Yes, it's working."

The words I don't like to hear
very often, Rudi,

are, "No, it's not working.
I think it's broken."

But all was well with the housing

and, finally,
it was ready to make a splash.

Bali and Dylan
paddled out to the surf zone.

The waves were still small,

but the hard, jagged reef
beneath Bali's feet

was a constant reminder
of the dangers here.

And even in small waves,

getting into position with the large
housing was going to be a challenge.

Bali lined up for his first shot...

...capturing the action at 20 times slower
than normal speed.

An interesting shot,
but not what the team were after.

So why were there no big waves?

There's no land between here
and Kamchatka, 3,000 miles away.

And the waves that arrive here start off
around Japan or the east coast of Russia.

And when a storm hits these places,
it whips up the sea, generating swell.

It's rather like throwing
a pebble into a pool.

The ripples radiate outwards

which, when they reach land, make waves.

So if the size of these waves
was anything to go by,

Japan and Russia were having
some unusually mild winter weather.

And that was more
than you could say for Pohnpei.

And there were still no big waves.

The only good news was
that the housing was still working

and remained watertight,
despite being soundly tested

both below and above the water.

And then, when the team thought
things couldn't get any worse...

If conditions got any calmer here,
we'd probably have small boys

out sailing their toy boats
out on this millpond!

I mean, we came for 12ft barrelling waves
and we've got a sort of gentle riffle

at the moment.

Time to check the swell charts.

There was better news
on the Russian front -

a big storm sending swell
Pohnpei's way.

At the end of the shoot,
the waves arrived -

the biggest the team had seen so far.

The big surf proved
even more of a challenge for Bali.

And there was still
the sharp reef to avoid.

Bali's final shots had promise,

but these waves were still much smaller
than the team had hoped for.

Having seen the potential
of Rudi's camera underwater,

I just know I've got to get it back out

on one of these locations
and use it in a big barrel,

because the results will be
incredibly surprising and totally unique.

Four months later, with news
of a large swell coming from Russia,

the team were back in Pohnpei.

This time, the waves looked big,
even with surfers in them.

And expert surfer Dylan
couldn't wait to get out there.

Well, we've turned up and we've seen
a couple of absolutely monster barrels.

So we've got what we came for.

And, um...I'm pretty nervous,

because I'm about to swim
that huge torpedo camera back out there...

...and it's dangerous-looking!

The big waves had brought surfers
from all over the world,

but this was definitely a day
for the professionals.

Bali was going to have to use
all his surf experience

to get the shots
without risking his safety.

Positioning was going to be everything.

This really is a dangerous sport.

Superficially, it looks a bit like skiing
down the face of a mountain.

The difference here is that the mountain
is actually chasing YOU

and wanting to gobble you up
as you go along.

MAN: Oh!

This is what we came for.

Bali got into position
for his first shot of the day -

a ten-foot barrel wave.

Capturing a shot like this leaves little
margin for error, as Bali discovered.

I tried to hold on as long as I could

and it sucked me
over the falls afterwards.

This thing is so heavy, I was in the foam,
inside, trying to get up.

My right leg cramped
and I couldn't get up for ages.

I was just lucky
there wasn't really much behind it,

or I'd still be in there
trying to get out. Phew!

For the next shots, Bali's position
in the waves was right on the money.

Using the slow-motion camera
underwater had paid off,

here, for the first time, revealing
the vortices created by huge waves.

Then the shot
that crowned a perfect day.

I shot it. I wasn't sure how good it was.

I've watched it back
and I've still got shivers in my spine,

because it's probably the best shot I've
ever got in the water, without a doubt.

And here it is.

Big-wave surfer Dylan Longbottom

in a 12ft, monster barrel wave

filmed in super slow motion -

the first shots of their kind
ever recorded.

And this time, Bali's exit
from the wave was perfect.