All language subtitles for Sir.David.Attenborough.Frozen.Planet.S01E04.BDRip.XviD-HAGGiS-eng

The end of the Arctic summer,

and the sun hasn't set for three months.

It's hard to imagine the bitter cold
will soon return.

Some will welcome the chills of autumn,

but for most, time is running out before
they will have to retreat to the south.

Early autumn in the Canadian Arctic

and polar bears are gathering
on the coastal strip,

waiting for the sea to freeze.

But a life spent alone on the sea-ice
is no preparation for a crowded beach.

Such close contact with other bears
must be stressful.

Surely tempers will flare.

Over half a ton of bear
slams into the other.

Polar bears will fight to the death
over mates, but not in autumn.

Now these fearsome predators display

a surprisingly tolerant side
to their natures.

Being marooned on land
means the bears no longer have access

to the seals they usually hunt

and they have to scrape by
on whatever they can find.

Like bears the world over,
they're not choosy feeders.

They even turn vegetarian,

delicately picking out berries
from between the thorns.

There are plenty to go around,

so there's no need
to squabble over them.

Any fighting is just for fun.

The bears select sparring partners
who are well-matched

and they always pull their punches.

No one wants to get hurt
in a play-fight.

Perhaps these bouts
are a way of testing rivals

in case they ever meet again
out on the sea-ice.

One thing's for sure,

the famous loners are revealing
a social, playful side we rarely see.

It's all just boisterous fun,

but with so many big males around,

the females keep their cubs
at a safe distance.

The wary mother will lead her young
to a quieter beach along the coast

while she waits for the ocean to freeze.

The sea-ice is now
at its minimum extent.

In the Canadian Arctic,
vast stretches of coastline

are now unlocked
and ready to receive visitors.

Belugas, the white whales of the north.

They're relying on open water
to reach an ancient rendezvous.

It's a journey they make every year
along traditional routes.

Baby belugas ride piggy-back,

pulled along
by their mother's slipstream.

This one is only a month old,

and won't turn white
for another five years.

Thousands of belugas are being drawn

to one special estuary
in the Canadian Arctic.

It isn't food that brings them here.

Curiously, it's personal hygiene.

When the tide is low,
they swim into the shallows

and flail around with great enthusiasm.

They're after a body scrub.

The gravel acts as a loofah

and thrashing their bodies across it
helps to get rid of their old skin.

Presumably the treatment keeps them
clean and streamlined.

But it also appears to feel good.

Bliss!

The water in the estuary is warmer
and less salty

and that seems to soften the skin,
making the scrub more effective.

This secluded estuary
is only a temporary whale spa.

The ocean will soon freeze again,
forcing the whales to travel south.

Vast seabird colonies
are the jewels of the Arctic.

Brünnich guillemots have
spent the summer months

packed together on vertical cliffs
beyond the reach of predators.

They are among the most numerous
seabirds in the Northern Hemisphere.

This colony alone contains 100,000 birds

and there are many more like it
all along the Arctic coastline.

In just a few weeks,
these cliffs will empty,

but before the guillemots can leave,
their chicks must fledge.

Their feathers are now fully formed,

but their stubby wings are still
too short for them to fly properly.

This will be a challenge.

It's a 150-metre drop

and they need to make it
all the way to the sea.

Here goes.

He falls short
and survives the crash landing.

The chicks are manna from heaven
for an Arctic fox.

The next chick is accompanied
by a parent.

Failed again.

This looks better.

Success!

Aquatic landings are certainly gentler

and foxes can't reach you out here.

The chicks will stay in
their parents' care for another month.

The guillemots are not
the only ones preparing to leave.

All across the Arctic,
millions of summer visitors

are beginning to return south.

The guillemot chicks can't fly yet,

so they and their families must swim
to their winter feeding grounds.

It's a journey that will take them
a thousand miles south to the open ocean

and away from the approaching ice.

The breeding season is over
and silence returns to the Arctic.

But as the first storms of autumn

sweep through
the deserted nesting grounds,

they bring an unexpected bonanza
for the few that remain.

The discovery doesn't
remain secret for long.

It's a huge fin whale carcass.

The polar bears have been drawn
from several miles away,

guided by their extraordinary sense
of smell.

Bears are arriving all the time,

but there's plenty of room
at this 18-metre long dining table.

They're surprisingly relaxed,

but with enough for everyone,
there's no need to argue.

The tastiest morsels
are often underwater.

Others prefer some greens
with their dinner.

After a well-balanced meal,

there's nothing better
than some good company.

Despite their reputation as loners,

it's surprising
just how sociable polar bears can be.

All across the Arctic,
the temperature is now dropping

and the sea is beginning to freeze.

Every day over 20,000 square miles
of ocean turn to ice

as the cold spreads south.

At first, a thin, greasy film
appears on the surface.

Next, pancakes of ice start to appear.

The pancakes lock together
and form a continuous sheet.

The Arctic Ocean is freezing again.

At last, the bear family can return
to the sea-ice, where they belong.

It's been six months since
the cubs first emerged from the den.

They've survived the hazards
of melting sea-ice in spring

and lack of food in summer,

and now, at last,
they are in their element again.

As the north of our planet
turns away from the sun,

the big chill travels south.

Temperatures on the tundra
start to fall.

The shorter days and colder nights
trigger a dramatic change

in the willows and blueberry bushes.

They stop producing the green pigment
that harnesses the sun's energy.

And red and yellow pigments
build up in their leaves.

The tundra blazes with color
and the whole landscape is transformed.

A bull musk ox marks his territory
with scent from the glands on his face.

He's preparing for the breeding season.

He shadows his harem of females

as they graze the last
of the summer grasses.

He must be on his guard.

An outsider is arriving,

a large male
whose intentions soon become clear.

The newcomer circles
the resident bull warily.

The resident must take up
the intruder's challenge.

This clash of polar Titans could
easily become a fight to the death.

The impact is like a car crash
at 30 miles an hour.

A heavy skull
and a helmet of horn four inches thick

provide some protection
for the musk ox's brain.

Over the next half hour,
the advantage ebbs and flows,

as each tries to finish the duel.

If one can turn the other
and gore its flank,

the fight will be over.

The stakes rise as the risk of injury
or even death increases.

The rival is out-maneuvered.

And the champion returns to his females.

By now, most animals
have migrated south,

but the musk oxen
with their thick coats will stay

and face the approaching winter.

As autumn progresses,

the moisture in the air freezes
and hoarfrost decorates the leaves.

Ice crystals grow like diamonds
on every twig.

All across the tundra, both the rivers
and the ground freeze solid.

Glassy cathedrals form, as the remaining
water becomes locked up as ice.

Soon, even the largest waterfalls
will be motionless.

The tundra has been transformed
once again.

It appears deserted.

Caribou on their migration.

Unlike the musk ox,
caribou do head south for the winter,

but it's a long and difficult journey.

They use the frozen lakes as ice roads.

These are flat and firm,

but it seems hooves and ice
were never really meant to go together.

The frisky males would be well-advised

to keep at least one eye on the road
as the mating season begins.

A cow is being closely guarded
by a mature bull,

with his much larger antlers.

The females are busy feeding up
for the winter,

but the bull has other things
on his mind.

The cow is playing hard to get.

She heads off with her admirer
in pursuit.

Several other bulls join in the chase.

She's out in front,

but the amorous males
are gaining on her.

The big bull breaks off his chase
to deal with a rival.

But now he's fallen behind
the other challengers.

The younger bulls,
with their lighter antlers,

keep up with the cow more easily,

but as the pace slows,
the older bull catches up.

Again he has to stop and fight.

A decisive victory for the big male.

He's earned the respect
of the vanquished bulls

and they now trail in his wake.

It's now become a game
of Grandma's Footsteps.

One look from the boss

and the young-bloods freeze
in their tracks.

The exhausted bull guards his prize,

but he'll need to recover before he is
able to make the most of his victory.

And the herd continues its journey south

to avoid the worst
of the advancing cold.

From the ocean to the tundra,

the north of our planet
is now completely frozen.

The Antarctic.

In the far south,

autumn can be a particularly savage
and unpredictable time.

South Georgia is a splinter of rock

in the middle
of the vast Southern Ocean.

It's only 100 miles long
and is battered by the elements.

This ocean generates some of
the largest waves on the planet.

They gain size and power
as they travel around the globe,

uninterrupted by land for 12,000 miles.

As they buffet South Georgia,
they also bring food.

A seal carcass.

A prize worth braving the surf for.

Giant petrels are the vultures
of Antarctica

and are always the first to the spoils.

The word is out and the hordes move in.

Like feathered dinosaurs,
they lock beaks in battle.

These butchers provide a service
for some unlikely meat-eaters.

With the carcasses now opened,
pintail ducks arrive for a meal.

There's plenty of good food here

and none of South Georgia's inhabitants

can afford to be fussy
with winter looming.

After the feast,
it's time for a rinse and spin.

The breeding season is finally over

and the petrels will
soon be heading out to sea

to avoid the worst of the winter.

A snowstorm is an omen
of things to come.

There is now little left to eat

and South Georgia's beaches will soon be
abandoned to the cold and ice.

Further south still,

and the first storms are
striking the continent of Antarctica.

The Adélie penguins must rear
their half-grown chicks to adulthood

before winter hits
in just a few weeks' time.

The chicks are only three weeks old.

Their downy coats
aren't fully waterproof yet

and they cluster together for warmth.

These crèches are essential
during bad weather,

as most of the adults are away at sea
fishing for their fast-growing families.

When the parents return,

their offspring quickly leave
the comfort of their peers.

Both chicks are ravenously hungry.

But there may be only
enough food for one.

This race could determine
which chick has the better prospects.

Most Adélie pairs will only manage
to raise a single chick each season.

And this may not be it.

At least number one
is getting stronger by the day.

With one meal delivered,
the parents must quickly find another.

To rear their chicks
before the onset of winter,

the penguins must work round the clock.

The parents can travel over 100 miles
to reach the best fishing grounds

and may be gone
for several days at a time.

They return with a kilogram
of fish and squid in their bellies,

feed their chicks

and then go off again
to repeat the process.

The job must be finished
before the sea freezes over again.

At seven weeks old,

the chicks are losing the last
of their baby down,

and are now fully equipped
to take the plunge.

Confidence is all that's lacking.

Perhaps it'll help
if the parents lead by example.

There. Effortless
and as graceful as any fish.

It seems penguins are not born
with a love of water.

Staying submerged is the next problem.

Buoyancy control is clearly a skill
that needs practice.

Well, it's a start.

And at least
they can now reach the ice floes.

Swimming is the first of many lessons.

They must next learn
to recognize danger in all its forms.

A leopard seal.

Even high up on an ice floe,
the penguins aren't safe.

Each year, leopard seals will take
5,000 of them from this colony alone.

The Adélies that survive drift out
into the Southern Ocean.

They will spend the next five months
feeding at sea,

avoiding the great freeze
that is about to envelop Antarctica.

The edge of the sea-ice advances
by up to two and a half miles a day.

Eventually, over five million
square miles of ice

will surround the continent
of Antarctica,

effectively doubling its size.

The great white wilderness is empty.

But not for long.

Bizarrely, it's now that
the emperor penguins arrive,

just as all the other penguins
have left.

These giants are now at their heaviest.

They've been feeding at sea all summer
and can weigh 40 kilos.

From the edge of the sea-ice,
they head towards their colony.

But an obstacle course of
jumbled ice blocks stands in their way.

The males are particularly fat
at this time of year.

This will be crucial for
their survival in the months ahead,

but it doesn't make squeezing
through narrow gaps any easier.

With the worst behind them,

they start a 20-mile march
into the freezer to breed,

the only animals to do so.

By tobogganing, they can travel
at twice their walking speed

and it takes the weight off tired feet.

Their destination is the thicker ice
closer to shore,

which will stay solid long enough
for them to safely rear their chicks

throughout the months to come.

Their colony is in the lee of icebergs
trapped in the frozen ocean,

which will shelter them
from the bitter Antarctic winds.

Newly formed pairs promenade together.

Courtship demands that both partners
strike and hold a variety of poses.

It's an important process,

as the bond between the couple will have
to be an exceptionally strong one.

The final act lacks the elegance
of the prelude,

but at least it's quick.

The egg is laid a few days later.

It contains the female's last reserves.

She now has nothing more to give

and must pass the egg to the male
to incubate.

The couple must be quick.

If the egg rests on the ice
for too long, it'll freeze.

With their eggs safe in the care
of the males,

the females start the long journey
back to the sea.

The sun is also leaving
and will be gone for many months.

The precious eggs,
balanced on the males' feet,

will make the terrible ordeal ahead
worthwhile.

With no food
and only each other for warmth,

they will attempt
to keep the next generation alive

while surviving
in the most brutal conditions on Earth.

Not all of them will succeed.

At both ends of our planet,

the sun sets for the last time
in autumn.

A season of change comes to an end

and one of endless darkness
and bitter cold begins.

The spectacular return
of the emperor penguins

was a key event
for the Frozen Planet team.

The crew will have to operate

in the most dangerous
of all polar environments,

the edge of the sea-ice.

They have to fly in
everything they'll need

for a month of living
on the frozen ocean.

On board are slow-motion cameraman
John Aitchison,

underwater cameraman Didier Noirot
and director Chadden Hunter.

With the plane gone,
the team are on their own.

This is home for the next month.

But it doesn't look like much right now.

Their tents should be secure
on the permanent sea-ice,

but they're still miles from the ocean,
where they hope to film.

The locals are keen to get acquainted

with anything
of a familiar shape and size.

The emperors are welcome neighbors
around the camp,

but the team need to film them returning
from the water

and to do that,
they face a daunting task.

They must find a path to the open sea

through a shifting landscape
of jagged sea-ice.

Their first scouting trip
doesn't look promising.

Neither maps nor sat-nav are any help
in this ever-changing environment.

The only clue that the ocean
lies somewhere to the east

is a steady procession of penguins.

Any suggestions, Didier?

- We must find a way.
- Yes.

And we will find a way.

I like the attitude.

The penguins have found a way.

It seems the emperors
will be the key

to reaching the ice edge.

Okay, let's go.

With their penguin guides
leading the way,

snowmobiles are brought in
to haul 500 kilograms of equipment

through the icy maze.

It's tough going for film crew
and penguins.

When the ice ridges halt progress,
it's time for some back-breaking work.

The next three days are spent chiseling

through mile after mile
of broken sea-ice.

Once finally clear of the ice boulders,
they spot their goal,

a patch of open ocean with penguins.

John is first in position.

He hopes to capture
the most striking images

by using a computerized
slow-motion camera.

But attempts
to film the penguins underwater

are halted by an unwelcome visitor.

We just saw the head
of a massive leopard seal.

So we'll get closer
to see what's going on.

We must be careful, because those guys

can come out very quickly
out of the hole and give a bite,

but being red like that,
we should be quite protected, you know?

Being dressed in red
may be Didier's idea of safety,

but the rest of the crew have
a healthy respect for leopard seals.

They can be fiercely territorial
and are not afraid to attack humans.

I think I can run faster
than him on land.

That's very exciting,

that's the first time I've ever seen
a leopard seal in my life.

And he's come straight out of the hole
and starts walloping towards us.

So there's a lot of adrenaline.

With the seal
frightening the penguins away

and hassling the crew,
it's time to try a new hole.

Oh, hello.

Can you see him?

While the seal is around,

there's little hope
of filming the penguins.

But now a far greater threat is posed
by the changing weather.

That dark headland in the distance
is Cape Washington.

That's our last sign of mainland.

We can't see anything else.

Once we lose sight of that mainland,

that means we're out here
on our own on the sea-ice

and this visibility is getting
lower and lower.

It's started snowing
and this wind is just blowing off-shore,

so if all this ice heads out,
we don't want to be on it.

So I think we're going to
can filming for the day.

All the signs suggest that
a big Antarctic storm is on its way.

Winds pick up to 70 miles an hour
and everyone retreats to their tents.

High winds then turn to heavy snow.

On the driest continent on Earth,
a big snowfall is rare.

White-out conditions take the penguins
and the film crew by surprise.

Each day they must dig out
their buried equipment,

filming has ground to a halt.

One week and a meter of snow later,
the headland is visible again

and the team are raring
to get back to the ice edge.

They follow their old route
back through the frozen maze

and with no leopard seal in sight,

it's time for another attempt
with the pole cam.

It's cumbersome, but it allows the team
to capture underwater images

without having to risk
the icy water themselves.

- That is okay?
- That's perfect.

They are coming, I can see some.

- Oh, wow.
- Oh, penguin's coming in the hole.

This is awesome, this is great.

The aim now is
to film the penguins' dramatic exit

from the hole.

The only problem, which hole?

These penguins keep outsmarting us.

We tried to switch holes
to film them coming up

and of course, they all just
completely came up behind us.

Whatever the crew try,

there's always someone
who hasn't read the script.

John has been filming,

but he can't view his slow-motion shots
until they are downloaded to a computer.

While he waits,
Didier seizes his chance.

Come, my friend, come.

If you can't beat them, join them.

It's time to go scuba diving
in the coldest waters on the planet.

I will see you on the other side.

The team
are 300 miles from help

and have only a small hole
as their lifeline to the surface.

A magical world opens up.

For the first time, Didier now shares
the penguins' perspective

from beneath the ice.

This is Antarctica
at its most enchanting.

For Chadden, after weeks of struggle,

the sequence quite literally
falls into his lap.

Whoa!

Sorry!

I think I'm in the way.

Up they go.

Oh! Just a little...
Come this way. Here we go.

I'm getting run over by penguins. Ooh!

I think it worked.
It's very difficult to tell.

John's camera
is finally capturing

the super-slow-motion images
of the emperors' dramatic return.

With the penguins performing perfectly,
it was all falling into place.

The team were finally able
to capture Antarctica's

most spectacular belly flop.