All language subtitles for Secret.Life.of.Lakes.S01E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Lakes are living creatures.

These precious reserves of water

live and die according to
distinct natural cycles.

Their peaceful waters seem dormant,

yet they teem with mysterious life.

Lakes only reveal themselves

to the men and women who take time

to patiently linger beside their shores.

Together, we are going to
discover their secrets.

In the heart of Siberia,

Baikal is a lake of extremes.

637 meters deep and 636 kilometers long,

it contains nearly 20% of
the world's fresh water.

It's waters are the purest on Earth.

It's climate is one of the harshest,

dropping as low as minus 50
degrees Celsius in Winter.

But neither ice, wind, nor
the interminable Winter

can hamper the development
of an animal and plant life

that is unique in the world.

In this grandiose and hostile nature,

men and women have chosen to lead

a rare and remarkable existence.

Located 1,500 kilometers
north of Mongolia,

Baikal lies right in the heart of Asia.

It contains as much water

as all the American Great Lakes combined.

Russians call it their great, sacred sea.

For more than 20 years, Sacha Yakovlev

has been traveling the lake up and down.

Here, near Olkhon Island,

it's the beginning of March

and the arrival of Spring
has broken up the ice,

erecting a chaos of icy barriers
that are tough to cross.

Sacha transports goods and often provides

the only link between
the lake's inhabitants.

He knows when it's
possible to forage through

or when we needs to turn back

because unlike Baikal,

the ice always has the last word.

Even when it's over a meter thick,

the lake's ice remains alive,

subjected to powerful internal forces.

Huge blocks of ice collide,

long cracks form,

and actual walls rise up.

These barriers on Baikal

are what we call ice hammocks.

They form very easily.

When the lake starts to freeze,

the layer of ice is torn
up and carried by the wind.

The pieces are blown into certain spots

and pile up to form barriers like this.

This hammock is relatively small,

but there are thicker ones.

When that happens, it's
impossible to cross them by car.

These vertical ice sheets

can loom 10 to 12 meters high,

but they are not the only
danger lurking for travelers.

Fractures can appear and
stretch for several kilometers.

Depending on the temperature
and weather conditions,

they either contract or expand,

sometimes leaving a gap two meters wide.

I've fallen
in the water before.

It happened last year on April 26th.

I was driving along on an old fissure

and in those spots, the
ice disappears much faster,

and becomes more fragile.

So, there we were and the car sank,

right in the middle of Baikal.

We didn't even bother
trying to get it out.

Very few people

live along the shores
of this immense lake.

There is only one city in
the north, Severobaykalsk,

with just 20,000 people.

The south boasts a
handful of small villages,

who's total population is under 50,000.

For hundreds of kilometers

between these two outermost points,

there is not a single
road, nor barely a soul.

Over 2/3 of Baikal's shores

are completely untouched and uninhabited.

This pristine environment
is home to a host

of animal and plant species,

some of which are found
nowhere else on Earth.

How did such rich biodiversity develop?

How do these animals manage to survive

and what is their
relationship with Lake Baikal?

Over the past few decades,

national parks have been
created around the lake.

Here in the Baikal-Lena Nature Reserve,

Sergei and Natacha
Chabourov are on a mission

to protect and study
this unique environment.

Natacha is a biologist.

She could have got a
job in a lab in Irkutsk,

but she has chosen to
live here with her husband

in a cabin that measure
only 12 square meters.

Sergei is one of the
reserve's Forest Rangers.

By the size and
height of these scratches,

I'd say the bear is about
four or five years old,

an average sized bear.

The animals you find most frequently

throughout the reserve
are Roe Deer, Sika Deer,

Reindeer, Moose, and Mouse Deer,

which are all ungulates.

And for carnivores, you
find Brown Bear, Wolverines,

Wolves, Lynx, and Foxes, of course.

There, we see deer feeding on the hill.

Soon, they'll be done with their breakfast

and go off to rest until evening.

I think along our coast,

there are about 300
deer within a territory

that stretches 110 kilometers long.

While Sergei
tramps through the forest,

Natacha takes samples each day

for the reserve's biological studies lab

because Baikal's underwater life

is just as rich as that on land.

Though the lake's water
is very cold in Winter,

it is still home to countless species.

My job is to study lakes.

Or more specifically, zooplankton,

which I've been studying for 20 years.

This zone hasn't been studied
much by hydrogeologists,

so it's a bit like virgin territory.

Here in Baikal,

these planktonic organisms are
what make the water so clean.

Particularly the crustaceans,

and notably the Aulacoseira baicalensis.

This tiny organism is what allows us

to call Baikal as self-cleaning lake.

All these sponges and
epischura filter the water

and keep it as clean as possible.

Baikal's water is reputed

to be the purest in the world.

Scientists have long wondered

how the lake manages to
rid itself of impurities.

To find out,

one must be prepared to dive
into three degree water.

People who come to Baikal,

who live in Irkutsk or it's outskirts,

think there's not much life here.

But actually, if you just
lift a stone very gently,

you realize it's teeming with life.

One of the lake's

most surprising endemic species

is a strange creature called goopkey.

They almost look like water plants

the way they flutter in the current,

but goopkey are actually
primitive animals,

freshwater sponges with no organs.

Their vivid green color
come from the algae

they live in symbiosis with.

They have a calcium skeleton

that filters the water.

For example, a two
centimeter square sponge

is able to filter close to
20 liters of water a day.

The water and everything else there is

passes through the sponges.

For instance, organic residue,

the remains of algae,
or other dead organisms.

It all collects on the surface.

Obviously, the pores where
the water flows though

and is filtered would get clogged

if no one was around to clean them.

But a large quantity of
different organisms exist

by cleaning these sponges' bodies.

Goopkey
have lived in the lake

for over 3 million years

and are a genuine biological treasure.

Without them, the lake's water
wouldn't be as transparent.

The exceptional purity of the water

has made it possible to set up an uncommon

scientific instrument in the lake.

Composed of a string
of underwater spheres,

the Baikal Deep Underwater
Neutrino Telescope

is an electronic eye fixed on the stars.

It tirelessly peruses the Heavens

in search of evasive elementary
particles, neutrinos.

These particles travel
at the speed of light

and are emitted by some
of the most spectacular

cosmic events in the universe,

such as solar eruptions, or supernovas.

Neutrinos have virtually no mass

and travel through interstellar space

unstopped by any obstacles they encounter.

They pass straight though the Earth

from one side to the other,

which slows them down and makes
it possible to observe them.

It takes an enormous quantity
of the purest water possible

for the neutrino detector to function.

And there are few places on Earth

that fulfill these conditions
as perfectly as Lake Baikal.

In order to record,

the environment has to
be very transparent.

Whether water or ice,

and the water's of Baikal
are the most transparent

of any lake in the world.

It is also the deepest lake.

Lake Baikal, our common treasure,

has made it possible to gather
this scientific information.

That's why it was chosen.

Sunk over a
kilometer deep in Baikal,

this detector may one day transform

the way we see our universe.

The depths of the lake harbor
a multitude of other secrets.

Some are known only to geologists

who have plumed the rocky
strata several kilometers

beneath the frozen surface of the lake.

In Khakusy, in the North of the lake,

inhabitants enjoy the hot springs

with little concern
that the healing vapors

are caused by intense volcanic activity.

Or that the Earth's crust
is much thinner here

than elsewhere in the world.

Baikal rests on a fault

that stretches across Siberia
like an enormous scar,

the result of tectonic
upheaval 50 million years ago.

Back at the time,

powerful terlluric forces
disfigured the Eurasian continent,

thrusting up mountains and
gouging out deep valleys.

This also caused a
gigantic fissure to appear

where the Earth's mantle split open,

what geologists call a rift.

The geological process
that gave rise to Baikal

is still underway.

The lake's shores continue to spread apart

at the rate of several
millimeters per year,

further enlarging the immense ditch

which is already over
seven kilometers deep.

Separated from other lifeforms
for millions of years,

the lake's numerous
plant and animal species

have evolved in ways that
have made them unique.

For the novice,

it is hard to tell the
difference between this seal

and it's cousins living in the icy waters

of the Russian Arctic.

Yet, this is no common Harbor Seal.

It is an entirely unique
species called the Nerpa,

one of the few freshwater seals on Earth.

How it got here remains a mystery.

The Baikal seal
is an incredible creature.

It's an aquatic mammal.

It's become a sort of
symbol, you might say,

it's Baikal's calling card.

It's an extremely curious animal.

It's believed
the seal's ancestors

migrated up the rivers
from the Arctic Ocean,

gradually passing from
seawater to brackish water

before finally adapting to
the freshwater of Lake Baikal.

Cut off from marine seals
for thousands of years,

Nerpa have evolved distinctly
from their distant ancestors.

They have a flatter snout,

longer claws, bigger eyes,

and their hind flippers are very different

from those of the ocean dwelling seals.

With it's wealth of endemic species

such as goopkey and Nerpa,

Lake Baikal is a reservoir
of unique biodiversity,

more biologically rich than
any other lake on Earth.

It's also a true inland sea

who's influence on the
climate is clearly visible.

For over 50 years,

scientists have been taking
shifts in the weather stations

located along the shores of Lake Baikal,

attempting to understand

the lake's highly particular climate.

Youri Oussof has been
studying the question

for over 20 years.

Visitors are rare in the Winter,

but Sacha never fails to turn up.

Every three hours, Summer and Winter,

Youri records the temperature,
pressure, humidity,

and all the other data

that go into making a weather forecast.

Generally,

we see the lowest temperatures in January.

Right here, now,

the temperature's about
minus 30 or minus 35 degrees.

The
temperatures Youri records,

first at 50 centimeters, then
one meter, and two meters deep

show a curious phenomenon.

Baikal takes longer to
cool down and heat up

than the rest of Siberia.

For example,
in May in Irkutsk,

it's the middle of Spring,

while here in Baikal, it's still Winter.

It's very cold and the
temperature always drops

below freezing at night.

In the Fall, it's the opposite.

Lake Baikal has been heating up all Summer

and the water is still pretty warm.

So, when it starts to get cold in Irkutsk,

here on the lake, we still
enjoy nice Fall days.

Baikal acts like

a kind of thermal buffer zone.

It's immense volume of water

gives it a great deal of inertia,

and influences the climate

for dozens of kilometers around the lake.

Today, it's a rare few
who have managed to adapt

to this splendid, yet hostile environment.

The cold, isolation, and
challenging lifestyle

are powerful dissuasions to anyone

who considers settling along these shores.

Poachers have long taken
advantage of the situation

and the survival of
certain rare animal species

is occasionally threatened.

Forest Rangers are the final defenders

of this endangered biodiversity.

Only four people still
spend the Winter in Davsha,

a village built in the 50's,

two meteorologists,
Youra, the Forest Ranger,

and his girlfriend, Urina,

who also tends the small
animal museum on the reserve.

The scientists and their
families who use to live

year round in this quaint
and sleepy village,

only return once the weather warms up.

Leaving Youra on his own

to develop a close relationship
with the unspoiled nature.

The first Nuthatch
that grew accustom to me

has stayed nearby.

He takes a seed,

then flies off to hide
it in my shirt or hat.

Then, comes back to fetch another seed.

Once the Great Tits saw that,

they started landing on my arm, too.

Actually, they heard the chirps.

When a bird flies away
happy after a good meal,

it starts chirping with
joy and the others hear it.

Youra doesn't communicate

with all the animals of the forest, yet,

but he is able to detect

the least little trace
of them in the snow.

A small endangered creature
happened by here not long ago.

These here are
the fresh tracks of a Sable

that came to check out this hole.

It ventured out to the
forest, had a look around,

then went back since it didn't
find anything worthwhile.

Despite a total hunting band

since the end of the 20th Century,

Siberian Sables have
always attracted poachers

for their fur.

In 1915, the species were
even in danger of extinction.

Biologists offered to study
the vast expanses of Siberia.

And it was here, around Lake Baikal,

that the last remaining
Sables were discovered.

If I'm not mistaken,

there were about 2,000
Sables left in all of Russia.

At that moment, the question arose,

it was absolutely necessary
to study and protect them,

and the reserve was created.

The reserve
has allowed the Sable

to escape hunters and
survive as a species.

In Davsha, they now venture
right up to Youra's house,

giving him a chance to
capture his encounters

with the little creatures on film.

Whether they live in one of the
rare villages along the lake

or in a simple cabin on it's banks,

Baikal's inhabitants almost all live

on the fish from the lake.

But in the Winter, how does one catch fish

when the entire lake is blanketed
in a thick layer of ice?

An original method was needed.

And the solution Baikal's
fishermen came up with

is ingenious.

As soon as the first
thawed ice begins to form,

they set up a rope that allows them

to cast their nets beneath the ice.

But when it's minus 20, it's not so easy

to pull out a net
weighing nearly 100 kilos.

The lake contains over 50
different kinds of fish,

but only a few of them are worth catching.

There are
different fish in Lake Baikal,

like Railing, Whitefish,
Sturgeon, Roach, or Perch.

But mainly, we fish Omul.

This fish
is another species endemic

to Lake Baikal.

It belongs to the Salmon family

and can grow up to 50 centimeters long

and weigh up to five kilos.

Omul is sometimes nicknamed
The Bread of Baikal

and is the main food produced by the lake.

But contrary to appearances,

fishing this silver fish is not risk free.

In Winter, any activity on
the ice can prove dangerous.

Once,

two guys were dropping their net by hand.

One was suppose to pull the rope

and the other one stayed in the shed.

So, the guy was pulling,
and pulling, and pulling,

and after a while, the rope got stuck.

What's going on, he wondered.

But the other guy didn't reply.

So, the guy who'd been pulling

went to have a look in the shed.

When he got there, it was empty.

He looked all around and
finally saw the other guy's head

poking out of the hole.

His foot had got caught in the rope

and he'd been dragged down the hole.

You get some funny stories like that.

Today, the number of Omul

appears to be steadily dwindling.

Paradoxically, fish in seal communities

seemed larger at the
start of the 20th Century,

back when they were the subject
of intense exploitation.

In the North of the lake, in Bajkalsko,

a Soviet area collective
fishing operation called Kolkols

was founded in the 1920's.

Each day, boats would leave the village

to fish Omul and hunt seals.

Everything they brought back

was shared among the entire community.

There were about 170 people,

karlkosnokoffs who worked here,

mainly men.

The women would salt the fish

and sew chapkas out of seal fur.

There were four or five large boats

and right down here, there
was a salting factory,

and also a seal treatment factory.

People still fish today,

but everyone works for themselves.

Today, the fishing
collective has closed down

and living conditions are precarious.

Many houses don't have running water,

despite their close proximity to the lake.

The families who still live here

gather in the center of the village

at an odd sort of service station.

This is where they come
to pump the lake water

they use for their daily needs.

In Bajkalsko, the bustling
activity of the Kolkols

and it's tons of fish are
nothing but a distant memory.

After six months of interminable Winter,

the frozen icy landscape
comes back to life.

The ice cracks, breaks
apart, and begins to thaw,

freeing the lake's water once more.

Encircled by mountains who's tallest peaks

loom nearly 3,000 meters high,

Baikal also takes in
water from the torrents,

streams, and rivers of
an immense watershed.

There are about 330 rivers

that empty into Lake Baikal.

The biggest ones are the Selenga,

Barguzia, and Upper Angara.

The rest are only small rivers.

Only one of them, the
Angara, leaves Lake Baikal.

It flows into Siberia's Yenisei River

and then, continues onto
the icy Arctic Ocean.

Once more, it
is possible for scientists

of every field to pursue
their studies of the lake.

Olga Rousina has been
studying Baikal's fish

ever since she got her PHD in Biology.

I can tell you

there are 61 species
of fish in Lake Baikal

and about half of them are endemic.

These species are, for the most part,

linked to single family
called the Kotyada.

After years of evolution

and being isolated in Lake Baikal,

they develop into 32
different kinds of fish.

And that's one of the endemic families.

Scientists
wonder if the stocks of Omul

aren't indeed dwindling,
as fishermen fear.

Personally, I
don't see any major change

in quantity and when it comes to the Omul,

it's quantity has actually
increased in Lake Baikal.

More specifically, in the schools of Omul

that live deep down at
the bottom of the lake.

Only in April

is fishing finally able to begin again.

The Siberian nature
makes up for lost time.

Pines, Cedars, and Larches,

Rhododendrons and Blueberry Bushes,

countless species of Moss and Lichen

finally shrug off their mantle of snow

and revel in the sun.

For the inhabitants of Baikal,

the race against the clock has just begun.

In just three months,

gardens need to produce
the fruits and vegetables

that will last throughout the year.

In Davsha, Irina,

curator of the small
natural sciences museum

grows an endangered plant
known as Golden Root.

It's also a
beautiful plant that smells nice,

but it's most important feature

is that it's root contains a compound

that's a type of rhodiolacide.

It has highly stimulative properties

and is even considered
stronger than ginseng.

We use it mainly for
fatigue or lack of energy,

it's invigorating and an energy booster.

In Davsha,

we find another strange plant

who's history is tied to Baikal's.

It is one of the oldest
plants in the world,

several million years old,

and has survived through the last Ice Age.

This here
is craniousbermosvelosum,

a plant endemic to Baikal

and a vestige of the Tertiary Period.

It's very rare on our shores.

In general, it grows in what
we call the Pribaikalskiy

the Northeast of the lake.

It grows in sparse little clumps

with no more than one
plant per square meter.

It's called solvulosken

because it's covered with tiny hairs

that soak up the sun's heat.

As soon as the snow and ice have melted,

the plant starts to grow.

First, the leaves, then buds appear,

and it starts to flower.

At the same time,

the animals that were living at half speed

during the cold winter months,

start to bustle about in search of food.

For Natacha Chabourov

it's the perfect time to take a head count

of the migrating birds

that have nested around the
lake to nest their chicks.

During this season,

it is not unheard of to encounter

another one of Baikal's
emblematic creatures,

the Brown Bear.

Bears wake up
towards the end of March.

They come out of their lairs
when they've been hibernating.

Spring is when they purge
their systems of parasites,

so they eat grass and dig up roots.

Since bears are omnivores,

their diet is extremely varied.

They eat insects and ants,

plants and roots,

animal carcasses,

or else small animals
they can catch easily.

In the Spring,

on of the bear's main food
sources is a curious insect

that looks both like a
butterfly and a moth,

the Caddisfly.

During the breeding period,

the female lays her eggs on
rocks along the lake's shores.

Once the larvae hatch,

they cling to the rocks
until they reach maturity.

For the hungry bears just emerging

after months of hibernation,

it's too good to be true.

They lumber out to the
shores to enjoy the bonanza.

The Caddisflies
gather on rocks all around

and bears can gorge themselves on them.

They lick them right off the rocks.

They're a source of protein,
so good for the bear's health.

They also find dead fish.

They're constantly on the
move in search of food.

Bears are opportunists.

Once the Caddisflies are gone,

they turn to ant masses.

And as soon as the fields dry out,

they feed on tasty berries.

Later, once their strength is built up,

they hunt young deer or newborn moose.

Baikal's nature is generous.

Over 1,000 species live around the lake.

With the return of warm weather,

the Nerpas bask on the rocks

where the best spots are
often keenly contested.

These animal's good health

is an excellent gauge of the
quality of the lake's water.

The least imbalance in
Baikal's delicate ecosystem

would inevitably have
repercussions on their lives

and on those of dozens
of other animal species.

And yet,

the vast lake seems fairly
unthreatened by pollution.

But to what extent is Baikal
able to regenerate itself?

Are it's filtering organisms enough

to sustain it's exceptional transparency?

It's something scientists have
been wondering for decades.

Elvira Alexandrovna and her husband

were the first to study the question

at the biological
station in Bolshiye Koty.

We have a database

containing all the research
we've done for 46 years,

and we've taken samples every 10 days.

Elvira's
son, Viatcheslav Maximov,

has continued the work his parents began.

An expert in Marine Biology,

he takes daily samples from the lake,

ranging from the surface
to 700 meters deep.

Baikal is stable.

We use to say self-cleaning,

but my father didn't agree with that

because there's no such
thing as self-cleaning.

But Baikal remains stable

thanks to it's geography and climate.

Twice a year, the water
mixes from top to bottom

due to temperature variations.

As soon as it starts warming up a bit,

the top layer of water

gets about one to four degrees warmer.

That makes it heavier
and it starts to sink.

And then, the lower layers rise up.

That's how they mix.

As the water sinks,

it drags along a large amount
of dead organic material.

All sorts of creatures feed

on theses miniature waste products.

The most important
stage in cleaning the water

is the microbiological stage.

Here, there are all
sorts of microorganisms,

from those that lean oil,

to those that feed on dead
organic matter, or bacteria.

Actually, Baikal is an oligotrophic lake,

an environment with very
low levels of nutrients.

So, as soon as there's
something to eat, even oil,

all the organisms race straight for it

and devour it until there's nothing left.

Oil.

Though the word almost sounds
out of place in this setting,

it none the less describes an actual fact.

Lake Baikal contains oil.

For years, scientists have been aware

that oil is seeping from
the bottom of the lake,

almost four tons per year
according to their estimations.

But where do the hydrocarbons come from?

The only way to tell is to
dive to the bottom of the lake,

nearly 1,700 meters down.

Once mere submersibles
were put at their disposal,

a handful of lucky scientists
were able to explore

the depths of the great lake.

Our immersion
to the deepest point

of Lake Baikal began at a
depth of some 1,600 meters.

Let's say, 1,700 meters.

The constant
seepage of hydrocarbons

ought to pollute the lake,

but in fact, it does no such thing.

The oil disappears almost
immediately without any trace.

What happens to it?

We've already
defined certain new organisms.

In particular, we've discovered
new species of nematodes.

These are small worms

that live in agglomerations
of bitumen near oil sources.

They live in rather dense liquids,

but how they survive is
still a bit of a mystery.

That's what we're trying to understand.

How do they manage to live here?

After dozens of dives,

scientists finally discover
that besides worms,

certain bacteria also play a crucial role

in cleaning the lake.

The oil disappears because it
gets eaten by microorganisms.

On the shores of the lake,

Spring and Summer are
but a brief interlude.

The Siberian Autumn is already back.

Almost as suddenly as it vanished,

the ice reappears.

This seasonal cycle

with it's temperature contrasts
and environmental upheavals,

has marked nature and
human lives for ages.

Inhabited since the Neolithic Era,

Lake Baikal has guarded the
traces of hunter-gatherers

who survived by hunting reindeer,

trapping seals, and fishing.

In the South of the lake, in Sagan-Zaba,

a practically vertical white cliff

holds traces of their presence.

Scenes engraved in the rock

show them on horseback
or hunting deer and swans

with bows and arrows.

The pertroglyphs also
include strange images

of antlered shamans dancing
with their arms raised.

Baikal's untamed nature has been venerated

by Siberian shamans
since prehistoric times,

and their rites have been
handed down to the present.

The small circular bay at
Khuzhir on Olkhon Island

is no doubt their most
spectacular sanctuary.

Faced with the immensity of the lake

and an environment that exceeds them,

today's shamans perpetuate the tradition

and continue to pay homage

to the countless spirits
that dwell within nature.

For example,
here on Lake Baikal,

we have a goddess of the
surface of the water, Abihatan.

The god of the depths, Losuthon.

We also have gods of
fish hooks and fishing.

All these spirits help the fishermen.

Thousands of
ribbons tied to the totem poles

on Olkhon Island flutter in the wind,

carrying messages from
Baikal's inhabitants

to the spirits of nature.

Offerings placed at the
feet of these totems

speak of the people's
attachment to these traditions,

which many continue to honor,

no doubt out of a certain superstition.

And even
after thousands of years,

we continue to perform the ceremonies.

23 million years old,

guardian of Siberia's water,

and enriched by it's singular nature,

Lake Baikal leaves a permanent impression

on those who visit it.

And supplies it's inhabitants
with a feeling of eternity.

When I first came
to Lake Baikal with Sergei,

we were looking for a
place that suited us.

At first, I didn't feel like
Baikal was the place for me.

When we crossed the
reserve and arrived here,

something deep inside told me to stay.

People often think it's hard to live here,

but that's not true at all

because the sense of freedom
and beauty that surrounds us

are truly beneficial.

For Baikal,

the issue today is to remain
this peaceful, proud lake

that suffers from no ills.

Projects to build large scale
tourism centers in the South

are a source of concern

for those whole live along it's shores.

Lake Baikal is listed
as a World Heritage site

and must be preserved.