All language subtitles for Blue.Planet.II.S01E04.Big.Blue.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

The world's greatest wilderness,
the open ocean.

It covers over half
the surface of our planet.

Here, there is nowhere to hide
and little to eat.

It's the marine equivalent
of a desert.

And patrolling this desert,
spinner dolphins.

They stick together...

in a super-pod, 5,000 strong.

That maximises their chances
of finding something to eat.

Like all who live here, they must go
to extraordinary lengths

to make their home in the big blue.

There are rare moments when these
empty seas can explode with life.

Lanternfish, off the Pacific coast
of Costa Rica.

They're scarcely bigger
than minnows,

but what they lack in size
they make up for in numbers.

They are one of the most
numerous fish anywhere.

Normally, they only come
to the surface at night,

to feed on plankton,

but this immense shoal
has risen during the day,

almost certainly in order to spawn.

For the dolphins,
this would be a bonanza.

They have located the shoal
using their echo-sounding calls.

But they have to get to it quickly.

They are not the only hunters here.

Yellowfin tuna have also
detected the shoal.

And behind them, with their
two-metre wingspans, mobula rays.

Now sailfish, one of
the fastest fish in the sea,

have joined the chase.

The lanternfish may return
to the deep at any moment.

But now the dolphins have got here.

They swim beneath the shoal,
pinning it to the surface

and forcing the lanternfish
to pack more closely together.

And now the sea begins to boil.

The tuna charge into the shoal
at over 40mph.

The slower-swimming rays
arrive at last.

With their immense mouths agape,

they scoop up the lanternfish
by the hundred.

The shoal has now been
largely dispersed,

and the sailfish
pick off the survivors.

In just 15 minutes,

all that's left is
a silvery confetti of scales.

But here, such feasts
are only too infrequent.

Whilst the dolphins perform
great feats of endurance,

others are driven
to even greater extremes

to find food
in this ocean desert.

A sleeping giant.

A sperm whale.

This family is resting
between bouts of feeding.

Who knows what the owners

of the biggest brain
in the planet dream about.

One has a calf.

It's about two weeks old but still
dependent on its mother's milk.

It's hungry.

It communicates with its mother
using a pattern of clicks.

But its mother slumbers on.

The calf, covered in sucker fish,
of which it can't yet rid itself,

has to be patient.

Sleep over and refreshed,
the whales move on.

Sperm whales don't wait for
their prey to rise to the surface.

They swim down into the depths
to find it.

They take a series
of heavy breaths...

to saturate their blood
with oxygen.

Then down they go.

This entire family dives together
in search of squid.

A mother will push her body
to the limits of her endurance,

and already it's hard for
her calf to keep up with her.

The calf sticks to its mother
as closely as it can...

touching her frequently,
as if for reassurance.

But 300 metres down,

it seems the calf
can't hold its breath any longer.

In their early years, calves
are forced to sit out the hunt.

The adults continue their dive.

The mother changes her calls

into a series of louder
and more rapid clicks.

She's now using sonar
to hunt down shoals of squid.

At 800 metres, a burst of clicks.

Then silence.

She's made a catch.

A calf can have a long wait
at the surface.

A mother returns from the deep
after as much as an hour.

She has a stomach full of squid.

Finally, this hungry calf
can take some milk.

It's one of the richest
produced by any mammal,

and the calf guzzles
a bathful of it a day.

It may be six years before a calf
masters the art of deep diving

and is able to find food for itself.

The emptiness of the big blue is
what makes life so hard for hunters.

But it's this emptiness that makes
it comparatively safe for prey.

A baby turtle, hatched just days
ago, is leaving the crowded,

dangerous waters of the coast
and heading for the open ocean.

To start with, they fill
their little stomachs with plankton.

But soon they need
something more substantial.

Only recently have we begun to solve

the mystery of where baby turtles
disappear to in their early years.

Hundreds of miles offshore,
in every ocean,

there are communities
of young castaways.

So anything that floats
attracts them.

A log.

It may have been at sea
for several years,

and it has already become
the centre of a small community.

Young puffer fish are here
for the same reason.

A floating log is just
the kind of refuge

this young turtle
has been looking for.

Here, there's not only seaweed
on which to graze, but barnacles.

But it's important
to stay under cover.

A young ocean-going silky shark
is here, too.

It's learning what tastes good.

And what doesn't.

We now know that many young turtles
stay in such places

for several years, until adulthood.

Even if it means facing
the full force of the high seas.

The sun beating down
on the deep blue

warms the surface waters
so that they evaporate.

As the vapour rises,
it condenses into clouds.

They rapidly build into
gigantic, burgeoning towers,

which eventually generate violent
storms, some 1,000 miles across.

Hurricane-force winds sweep across
the open ocean,

building waves
that can rise to 30 metres tall.

Out here, ships have been known
to sink without trace.

130 million containers are shipped
across the oceans every year.

And on average, four of them
fall into the sea every day.

In 1992, a few were lost

that contained
a consignment of bath toys...

including 7,000 plastic ducks
like these.

They started their travels
1,000 miles off Alaska.

Some drifted right across the
Pacific Ocean and reached Australia.

Others were carried north

and landed on shores
between Russia and Alaska.

They even found their way
into the High Arctic.

One duck, having been at sea
for 15 years

and crossing three oceans,

eventually landed
on the west coast of Scotland.

Their travels vividly illustrate
how a network of currents

connects all our oceans into
one gigantic circulatory system.

Many of the inhabitants of
the big blue rely on these currents

to carry them to feeding grounds.

The blue shark.

It travels over 5,000 miles a year,

riding on the currents, supported
by its broad wing-shaped fins.

This one may not have eaten
for two months.

But the currents can carry promising
traces of fatty oils

from many miles away
and will lead it to its next meal.

After days of travel,
the smell of food gets stronger.

A dead whale, recently
struck by a ship.

This could be a real feast,

but the blue shark must be cautious.

Great white sharks...

ten times heavier than a blue...

are highly possessive
around a whale carcass.

Great whites are eager to feed
on energy-rich whale blubber,

which we now know
forms a major part of their diet.

Once the great white
has had its fill,

smaller sharks, like the blue shark,
tackle what's left of the carcass.

As the oils from this dead whale
spread more widely,

more and more blue sharks appear.

Within days, the carcass
will be stripped of its blubber.

Then, no longer
kept buoyant by its oil,

it will sink into the depths below.

The blue, with its reserves
of fat replenished,

can now survive for another
two months without eating.

Over half of all animals
in the open ocean drift in currents.

Jellyfish cross entire oceans

feeding on whatever happens
to tangle with their tentacles.

Some can grow to a metre,
even two metres, across.

And when, by lucky chance,

they encounter a patch of sea
rich in plankton,

their numbers explode.

It's such a successful strategy

that jellies are one of the most
common life forms on the planet.

But among the jellies,
and looking somewhat like them,

is a rather more complex
and sinister creature.

The Portuguese man-o'-war.

It floats with the help
of a gas-filled bladder,

topped by a vertical membrane.

With that serving as a sail,

it maintains a steady course
through the waves.

Long threads trail behind it,
some as much as 30 metres long.

Each is armed with many thousands
of stinging cells.

A single tentacle could kill a fish
or, in rare cases, a human.

But among its lethal tentacles lurks

a man-o'-war fish
that feeds by nibbling them.

Whilst this fish has
some resistance to the stings,

it must still be extremely careful.

Most other fish are not so lucky.

A tentacle has caught this one
and reels it in.

It's already paralysed.

Specialised muscular tentacles
transfer the victim to others

that digest the catch, liquefying it
with powerful chemicals.

Eventually, all that is left...

is a scaly husk.

This voracious man-o'-war

may collect over 100 small fish
in a day.

For the most part, the big blue
seems featureless...

a place where the winds blow,
uninterrupted by land.

But beneath the surface
there are long mountain ranges,

deep trenches
and isolated volcanic peaks

that make it far more varied
than the human eye can see.

We are only just discovering
in any detail

how the inhabitants of the big blue
exploit that.

A lonely whale shark
on a special journey.

She is as long as a small aircraft
and she weighs over 20 tonnes.

Like many sharks, she does not lay
eggs but gives birth to live young.

She carries up to 300 of them
in her swollen belly.

She may be the biggest fish
in the sea,

but the place where whale sharks
give birth has not yet been found.

Today, however, we may be a step
closer to solving this mystery.

We have known that great numbers
of whale sharks,

at certain times of the year,
appear around the Galapagos Islands.

Here they assemble around
a tiny islet

that rises abruptly
from particularly deep water.

It's known as Darwin Island.

Here, swirling currents
bring up nutrients from the deep,

so enriching these waters
that they attract

great concentrations of fish
from far and wide.

Thousands of hammerhead sharks
also assemble here.

They are nearly all female.

They, too, it seems,
have come here to breed.

The whale shark receives
an extraordinary welcome.

Silky sharks, themselves
three metres long,

bounce against her rough skin...

perhaps to scrape off
any parasites they might have.

These sharks could be a danger
to any newly born young.

So, perhaps to avoid them,

the whale shark dives...

down to around 600 metres.

And there she may release her young.

In these great depths,

away from the predators
that hunt in the waters above,

and with abundant food,

her babies could grow
and eventually disperse.

No-one, it is true,

has ever seen young ones
in these little-visited depths.

But the fact that hundreds
of expectant whale sharks

come here every year

is strong evidence
that somewhere here

lies the nursery of
the biggest fish in the sea.

There are almost
30,000 sizeable islands

scattered across the world's oceans.

One of them is South Georgia...

an ideal place for
those ocean dwellers

who are compelled to land
in order to breed.

The wandering albatross.

It may spend as much as a year
continuously at sea.

Searching for food,

gliding on wings that are
3.5 metres across -

the biggest of any living bird.

The entire world population
of 16,000 wanderers

nest on South Georgia

and half a dozen or so of the other
smaller islands

that lie in the Southern Ocean.

It's spring and this bird
is returning

to the nest site
it's always used.

Its lifelong partner
is already here.

In South Georgia,

individual birds have been studied
for their entire lives,

revealing that older pairs,
in their late 30s,

will go to extraordinary lengths
to give their young

the best possible start in life.

This chick is now several weeks old,

but still has its warm, downy coat.

The chick will need a regular supply
of regurgitated fish and squid.

With food so scarce in
the open ocean,

both parents may have
to scour thousands of square miles

just to provide enough for one meal.

Ageing parents struggle on
all through the Antarctic winter

to raise a chick that is
big, strong and healthy.

After some 130 days,

the youngster begins to replace
its down with flight feathers.

Finally, nine months
after their egg was laid,

this chick is ready to leave.

Of all the chicks they've reared
in recent years,

such a favoured chick will have
the best chance of survival.

But it will also be their last.

Elderly parents never recover
from their exertions.

They will soon leave this island,
never to be seen again.

Surviving in the open ocean

has always tested animals
to the limit...

but today they face
a new additional threat.

Plastic.

Just over 100 years ago,

we invented a
wonderful new material

that could be moulded
into all kinds of shapes

and we took great trouble to ensure
that it was hard-wearing,

rot-proof
and virtually indestructible.

Now, every year,

we dump around eight million
tonnes of it into the sea.

Here, it entangles and drowns
vast numbers of marine creatures.

But it may have even more widespread
and far-reaching consequences.

A pod of short-finned pilot whales.

They live together
in what are, perhaps,

the most closely knit of families
in the whole ocean.

Today, in the Atlantic waters
off Europe, as elsewhere,

they have to share the ocean
with plastic.

A mother is holding
her newborn young.

It's dead.

She is reluctant to let it go

and has been carrying
it around for many days.

In top predators like these,

industrial chemicals
can build up to lethal levels...

and plastic
could be part of the problem.

As plastic breaks down,

it combines with these other
pollutants

that are consumed by vast numbers
of marine creatures.

It's possible her calf
may have been poisoned

by her own contaminated milk.

Pilot whales have big brains.

They can certainly
experience emotions.

Judging from the behaviour
of the adults,

the loss of the infant
has affected the entire family.

Unless the flow of plastics
and industrial pollution

into the world's oceans is reduced,

marine life will be poisoned
by them for many centuries to come.

The creatures that live in the
big blue are perhaps more remote

than any animals on the planet.

But not remote enough, it seems,

to escape the effects of what
we are doing to their world.

The biggest challenge of filming
in the vastness of the open ocean

is to find your subject...

and the Blue Planet team
wanted to film

one of the most elusive of them all,

the rarely witnessed "boiling sea".

Until now, this feeding frenzy
has been the stuff of legends.

After some promising sightings off
the north-east coast of Australia,

the team heads out to investigate.

We know it's a phenomenon,
we know it's out there,

the scientists have documented it,

the fishermen have told us about it,

so we know it's happening,
but no-one has been crazy enough

to attempt to go out there and
actually film it - except for us.

The team start their search
100 miles out in the Pacific Ocean.

The reason it's called a
"boiling sea" is that the tuna

are actually coming out of the water

and attacking lanternfish
and it creates a lot of white water.

To film the boiling seas,

the team must first find
a large shoal of bait fish,

most likely to be lanternfish

rising to the surface
at night to spawn.

A few days out,

Adrian thinks he may have spotted
a giant shoal on the echo-sounder.

What we're seeing is
a very, very dense layer

at about 200 metres' water depth.

And so, the fact that we've got
this would suggest

that we have a very deep
and dense layer of fish.

One of the best ways to film
at such depths in the open ocean

is to use an ROV -
a remotely operated vehicle -

carrying a light-sensitive camera.

But working with such heavy
equipment in the high seas

is a risky operation.

Fortunately,
a team of technicians is on hand,

and 24 hours later,
they're ready to relaunch.

Adrian drops them on top

of what he hopes is a
large shoal of lanternfish.

Good news is,
we've just put the ROV down,

we're down at 250 metres,

which means we've gone
to almost the end of the cable

and nothing's blown up
so we're back in business.

But there's almost nothing there,

just a thick layer of plankton.

Over the next three weeks,

they don't find
a single lanternfish.

This trip is the perfect
illustration

of why we know
so little about the ocean -

we came out looking for something,

we've searched and
searched and searched,

and we still haven't found it

even with every single tool
you could wish for.

As it turned out,
the team had been filming

at the very start of El Nino -

an unpredictable climatic event

when sea temperatures
can suddenly rise

and disrupt
the spawning behaviour of fish.

It would be 18 months
before conditions would improve

and the team could
continue their quest.

The other side of the Pacific Ocean,
off Costa Rica.

This time, rather than
searching for their prey,

the team are looking
for their predators.

But in the endless blue,

even finding a massive pod
of dolphins isn't easy.

20 miles offshore,
series producer Mark Brownlow

leads an aerial filming team

scanning thousands
of square miles of ocean...

but there's not a dolphin
in sight.

Day three, no spinner dolphins.

Getting worried now...

Finally, after ten days
on the open ocean,

they get their reward.

OK, dolphins!

Woohoo!

Yes!

Spinners!

With dolphins in sight, the dive
team race to intercept them.

Spinners, look!

The plan is to film the dolphins'
feeding frenzy from underwater.

Several hundred dolphins
jumping all over the place,

it looks like this could be it.

They catch up with the dolphins.

But they're too late.

Ah, dear.

Nothing, Rog? Just... nothing.

Just fish scales and bones,

it's like turning up at a battle

just to see
all the dead bodies left over.

To stand a chance of filming
the dolphins' feeding,

the dive team need
to be more proactive.

Rachel hitches a ride,
following them underwater,

searching for any clue
to where they might go next.

Finally,
after three weeks of searching,

the dive team catch a huge
feeding event,

a massive shoal of lanternfish

being rounded up by hundreds
of spinner dolphins.

That was incredibly intense.

A very large bait ball

spread over probably the size
of a football field.

Things coming in and over
your shoulder, over your head,

it was incredible.

For the first time,

the aerial team can record
the epic scale of this spectacle.

You know, we heard these stories
of boiling seas, but it's real!

They're huge.

The vastness of the ocean wilderness

made capturing this extraordinary
event a great challenge.

But this is the reward,

a moment of unparalleled drama

in the immense expanse
of the big blue.

Next time, we journey
into the bountiful green sea.

These are enchanted worlds,
home to strange creatures...

where only the most
ingenious will triumph.