All language subtitles for South.Pacific.E06.Fragile.Paradise.1080p.BluRay.DTS.x264-NaRB_track3_[eng]

The South Pacific is, on the face of it,
still a healthy ocean.

We depend on it.

Over 60% of the world's fish catch
comes from the Pacific.

But like all oceans,

it has little or no protection,

so it may not stay healthy much longer.

So what's being done
to preserve its natural treasures?

And what does the future hold
for this fragile paradise?

For the South Pacific,
this is a critical time.

It's changing in ways that,
if left unchecked,

could develop into a global crisis.

Some of its residents
have been through crisis before.

Humpback whales were hunted
so relentlessly during the last century

that their numbers crashed by 90%.

But recently, they've made a comeback,

surging from 5,000 to 60,000 animals.

Their blubber is no longer
boiled down for oil.

Today, these whales are greeted
by boats loaded not with harpoons,

but with tourists.

The waters of Tonga are one of
the few places in the world

where it's legal to get in
and meet the giants face to face.

Some claim that to look
into the eye of a whale

is a life-changing experience.

In the 1970s,
a campaign to "Save the Whale"

made the headlines around the world,

and led to an unprecedented agreement

to protect what remained
of the world's whales.

It proved that global pressure
CAN save wildlife that's under threat.

So what are the current threats
to wildlife in the Pacific?

It's no secret
that the world is getting warmer.

And the low-lying islands of
the South Pacific are on the front line,

as global warming
causes sea levels to rise.

On the Pacific island nation of Tuvalu,

nowhere is higher than
five metres above sea level.

Tuvalu's nine atolls and islands
are home to 12,000 people.

Their contribution to
global warming is tiny,

but its impact on them is massive.

Sea walls are the nation's only defence,

but building higher walls
is likely to prove futile.

During big spring tides,

seawater simply bubbles up
through the ground.

In 2006, the islanders experienced
their highest tides ever.

These islands could soon
become uninhabitable.

The seawater is poisoning
the soil and groundwater.

Eventually, the islands
may have to be evacuated.

This would be an unprecedented move...

An entire nation relocated.

So the ocean is threatening its islands,

thanks to global warming.

And yet, the Pacific
is playing a massive part

in slowing down climate change.

The world's oceans have absorbed
about half of all the carbon dioxide

released so far into
the atmosphere by industry,

significantly reducing
the greenhouse effect.

But there's a catch...

For the fish, all that extra
carbon dioxide in the water

can have some unwanted side effects.

All life in the Pacific is dependent
on the tiniest of creatures -

the plankton
that floats freely in the currents.

One of the most plentiful
is the sea butterfly,

a tiny marine snail,
which uses its enlarged foot

to fly through the water.

Sea butterflies are such important
food for so many marine animals

they have been dubbed
the "potato chips of the ocean".

But they could be under threat
from all that extra carbon dioxide.

Dissolved carbon dioxide is slowly
turning the water more acidic,

making it harder for sea butterflies
to build their calcium shells.

The loss of these
swimming "potato chips"

would have repercussions
right up the food chain.

And with a billion people
around the world

dependent on fish for their protein,

fewer fish would clearly be
bad news for people too.

Of course, there's no need to worry,

if the greenhouse gases
are brought under control.

Or is there?

Although the burning of fossil fuels

is often viewed as
the biggest environmental threat,

here in the Pacific
there are more pressing concerns.

The fish may disappear

long before the impact of
climate change really takes hold.

A leading group of ecologists
recently predicted

that in just 40 years,
seafood will be off the menu.

The problem has a lot to do
with fishing.

In Fiji, the villagers of Moturiki Island
are fishing for dinner.

Using a traditional fishing
technique known as a fish drive,

they work together
to scare the fish off the reef

and into an ever-smaller corral.

Each year, in coastal waters
around the Pacific's islands,

subsistence fishermen catch
around 80,000 tonnes of fish.

In the past, there was always
plenty more fish in the sea,

but recently,
catches have been declining.

Why should this be?

It could be
that more efficient fishing gear,

such as modern nylon nets
coupled with growing island populations,

has led to over-fishing.

But catching too many fish

may not be the main reason
why there are now too few.

Pacific coastal fish live and breed
in the most fragile of habitats -

coral reefs.

But many reefs have been
trampled on, smashed by boats,

and even dynamited
in the quest for fish.

And damaged reefs
support fewer fish.

This could be why the fishermen
are catching less.

In Fiji, biologists
are working with fishermen

to bring the fish back
by replanting the reefs.

This is a coral nursery.

But with wild corals
already struggling,

where have these coral seedlings
come from?

The coral gardeners monitor the reef,

looking for corals
that need a helping hand.

Despite all this real estate, many
corals end up clustered together.

Crowded out,
they will eventually die,

so the gardeners uproot them,
creating more space for some,

and giving the uprooted ones
a fresh start.

Each coral head is broken down
into a dozen or more fingers

and each of these
is tied onto a concrete disc.

As every gardener knows,
vigorous growth requires sunlight,

plenty of nutrients
and the right temperature.

So the coral gardeners
choose just the spot.

Within six months,
the corals are branching out.

They're spaced out
onto adjacent tables

and, a year or two after planting,
they're ready for harvesting.

The coral heads are
broken down once more.

In the space of two years,
a single finger of coral

has multiplied into 50 or more.

Some of these will be re-planted
on fresh discs,

while others will be returned to the reef.

If replicated,
coral gardening could help

restore reefs throughout the Pacific.

But its biggest success

may be in sowing the seeds of
conservation in the local fishermen.

Within days, these cuttings will
have stuck themselves to the reef,

while reefs that were
replanted a year ago

are already starting to bloom.

In a few more years,
this area should be awash with fish.

So there's hope for coastal fisheries
on which local people depend.

Out in the open ocean,
it's another story.

There is no protection here,

and yet this is where most fish
are now being caught.

These may look like minnows,
but they are tuna,

each a healthy two kilos or more.

Four different species are fished
in the tropical Pacific.

These are skipjack tuna,

with some yellowfin tuna mixed in.

But this boat is not setting nets.

The ancient technique of fishing
with rod and line

is now practised on an industrial scale.

The water jets break up
the outline of the boat from below,

and mimic the noise and commotion
of baitfish when under attack.

Meanwhile, live baitfish
are strewn around the boat

to keep the tuna interested.

It may look like a lot of effort
for a few fish,

but this pole and line technique of
fishing can be surprisingly effective.

Fishing for export is now big business
in the tropical Pacific,

with tuna alone accounting
for 30 times more fish

than all the fish caught
by subsistence fishermen.

So is commercial fishing sustainable?

Skipjack are the smallest,

and by far the most abundant
tuna species in the Pacific.

They reach maturity in just a year

and then spawn many times
within a season.

They seem to be the perfect catch,

as their numbers
just keep bouncing back.

But not all marine life
is so resilient.

Thanks to modern fishing,

some of the best-known animals
of the Pacific are in deep trouble.

Sharks have been top dog
in the Pacific for millions of years.

They control the numbers of other fish,

and so play a vital role

in keeping the underwater ecosystem
healthy and diverse.

In French Polynesia,
grey reef sharks gather.

While scalloped hammerheads
patrol the Galápagos Islands,

these are rare hot spots where
sharks converge in large numbers.

But divers claim this is just a fraction

of the number of sharks
they used to see.

Many sharks are ocean migrants,

travelling hundreds of miles
in search of prey,

like the oceanic whitetip.

Amazingly, this may once have been

the most abundant large animal
on the planet.

But it's fallen prey
to fishermen's hooks and nets.

Surveys suggest oceanic whitetips
may have declined

by a staggering 99%.

It's like the disappearance of bison
from America's Great Plains,

yet it's only happened
in the past 50 years,

and almost no-one has noticed.

Incredibly, the world's oceans
may have lost more than 90%

of their large predatory fish
since industrialised fishing began.

Tiger sharks still turn up
in Hawaiian waters,

drawn here by another
great ocean wanderer.

These black-footed albatross
are certainly an endangered species,

but not because of the sharks.

Thousands of adult black-footed albatross
are caught each year on fishing lines.

In fact, 19 of the world's
22 species of albatross

are endangered
or vulnerable to extinction,

largely thanks to fishing.

The Antipodean, or wandering albatross

is found in the waters
around New Zealand,

home to the most diverse
seabird community in the world.

These are rich fishing grounds
for fishermen too.

The birds know that
where there are fishermen,

a free lunch is sure to follow.

So how does this get them into trouble?

With a wingspan over three metres,
an albatross is built to soar

thousands of miles across the ocean
in its quest for food.

As it might go for days with nothing,

it can't afford to be choosy.

Anything near the surface is snapped up.

Unfortunately, not everything
a fisherman casts overboard

is a healthy meal.

Far out at sea, a long-line
fishing vessel is setting its line.

It's long-line vessels in particular
that have been held responsible

for the decline of the albatross.

The fishermen pay out a line
30 miles long

across the surface of the ocean,

and every few metres,
they attach a secondary line

with a hook,
baited with a fish or squid.

Every night, this vessel casts
over 1,000 hooks,

and it is just one of many
long-liners plying the Pacific,

some with lines 100 miles long.

But this fisherman is well aware
of the threat to the seabirds,

and to prevent them
from swallowing his hooks,

he has adopted
bird-friendly fishing methods.

It's why he sets his lines at night,
when the albatross are sleeping.

And he deploys tori lines.

These simple streamers
are remarkably effective

at scaring birds away from the hooks.

He also thaws out his bait
before hooking it,

so it sinks out of sight quickly.

His bird catch is now virtually zero.

This leaves more hooks free
for his target species - bigeye tuna.

These are powerful fish,
and can weigh well over 100 kilos.

It may look brutal, but the most
humane way to kill one quickly

is to shoot it.

The future of the albatross
still hangs in the balance.

The birds around New Zealand
are benefiting from a law that states

all long-line fishing vessels
must use bird-friendly methods.

But albatross are great travellers,

so they're still at risk throughout
the rest of the South Pacific.

Only if all fishing vessels adopt
the same bird-friendly techniques

will the story of the albatross -

like that of the whale -
have a happy ending.

Saving sharks is not so straightforward.

They're not just caught accidentally -

their fins are worth a fortune,

thanks to an Oriental taste
for shark-fin soup.

Over 70 million sharks
are killed every year,

many in the South Pacific, where
shark finning is neither outlawed

nor properly regulated.

This is a bigeye thresher,

a shark that's almost never
been seen in the wild.

Shark finning is a wasteful
and often cruel practice,

and one that may ultimately disrupt
the balance of life in the ocean,

proving catastrophic
for other marine life too.

So how can sharks be saved?

In Bega Lagoon, in Fiji,
the local people are proving

that sharks can be
more valuable alive than dead.

Tourists will pay good money
for an encounter with real live sharks.

This is a community-owned reef,

and some of the money
goes to the local villagers -

a big incentive
not to kill the main attraction.

Fijians have long had
an affinity with sharks.

Their ancestors worshipped a shark god,

who they believed
kept them safe from harm.

They would feed sharks, not hunt them,

and these divers continue the tradition.

First to the feast
are tawny nurse sharks.

But these sharks are scavengers.

It's the big predators
the tourists want to see.

Bull sharks.

Growing up to
three-and-a-half metres long,

these sharks are one of
the ocean's top predators,

with an aggressive reputation.

The chief shark feeder

is from a village where
the shark god is still worshiped.

So he has no fear.

A bowl of shark-fin soup can sell
for over 100 dollars,

but here, each tourist pays that
to see these sharks alive,

and dives take place
several times each week.

To protect the sharks, this reef
has now been declared a marine reserve...

...with the added bonus
that other fish are protected too.

Before the reserve was established,
this reef had been fished-out.

Even a single giant trevally
of this size was a rarity.

Today, the divers
are in for a special treat.

A five-metre tiger shark.

The dive leaders have named her Scarface.

She turns up once a month or so.

She's inquisitive, but not aggressive.

The show's over.

The divers have had a great day,
and local people benefit too.

With so many fish, some spill over
into the waters beyond the reserve,

where fishermen now catch many more

than they did before
the reserve was set up.

Marine reserves clearly work.

So why aren't there more of them?

In truth, marine protection is decades
behind wildlife protection on land.

Take the islands of New Zealand.

Beyond the farmed landscape
are wild places where nature can flourish.

More than a quarter of the country
is set aside

in national parks and other reserves.

In contrast, less than 1 % of
the Pacific Ocean is protected.

Instead, it is divided up
into fishing zones.

Each island nation owns the fishing
rights up to 200 miles offshore.

Beyond these territorial waters
are the so-called "high seas".

Bounded by national waters,

the high seas pockets
of the western Pacific

cover half a million square miles.

The surrounding island nations
would like these pockets

to be declared marine reserves -

safe havens
where migratory fish can breed.

The idea is being promoted
by Greenpeace.

Greenpeace made their name
campaigning to save the whales.

They're now responding to concerns

about the future of the Pacific's fish.

The high seas pockets
they're now patrolling

were once a fishing free-for-all.

Although now regulated
by international treaty,

they are rarely policed,

so Greenpeace have assigned
a monitoring role to themselves.

This is the Esperanza -

Greenpeace's largest vessel.

The crew are searching for
any sign of fishing activity

but it's a huge area.

After two weeks at sea,
a blip on the radar indicates

a fishing vessel is near.

Greenpeace want to discover

where the vessel is from
and what it's been catching.

They launch their inflatable boats.

Although Greenpeace film
their own activities,

we put our cameraman on board
to ensure an unbiased record of events.

As these are international waters,
any nation can fish here legally,

and many do, including the US,

the European Union, Japan
and other East Asian countries.

This is a large Taiwanese long-liner.

Taiwan has a large fishing fleet,
with many vessels fishing

almost exclusively
in international waters.

The encounter turns out
to be entirely amicable.

Visitors are rare for fishermen
on the high seas,

and these men are not aware that
they have anything to hide.

Greenpeace ask if they can
inspect the vessel's catch

and the fishermen oblige.

In a freezer, there are
several dozen frozen sharks

but the valuable parts
are being stored elsewhere.

The shark fin, what do you...?

- Do you sell them in Taiwan too?
- No, no.

In another freezer
are a dozen sacks of shark fins.

The fins from hundreds of sharks.

By documenting these catches,
Greenpeace hope to highlight

why it's necessary to declare these
high sea pockets marine reserves,

and to back the growing movement
from Pacific Islanders for protection.

This would help to protect all ocean life,

especially the valuable tuna.

Tuna are predators.

They herd smaller fish to the surface,
where they can be picked off one by one.

They are high-speed fish -
the cheetahs of the ocean.

They're also the wildebeest -
they herd together in their thousands

and undertake epic migrations across
the Pacific in search of their prey.

If these animals lived on land,

they'd be famous for providing
the greatest wildlife spectacle on Earth.

Instead, they're better known
as a filling for a sandwich.

In an ocean with no marine reserves,
migratory fish have nowhere to hide.

Up to 2 kilometres long
and 200 metres deep,

"purse seine" nets are designed
to encircle schools of tuna.

A fisherman checks his nets,
breathing air pumped down a tube

from the vessel above.

It's not only tuna
that get caught in these nets.

A lone turtle was in the wrong place
at the wrong time.

She can only hold her breath
for a few minutes

and the path to the surface isn't clear.

She begins to panic.

These fishermen are superstitious
about turtles.

Bringing one on board

is bad luck.

It's her lucky day.

More and more fishing vessels
are being drawn

to the South Pacific each year,
as this is one of the last oceans

where healthy numbers of fish
still remain.

But for how much longer?

Fishing is now a high-tech operation,
with radar picking up

distant flocks of birds
that indicate fish feeding below.

The net is paid out
in a wide circle around the fish.

It's a race against time, as the fish
could disappear at any moment.

As the circle closes, pellets of dye
are dropped into the water.

The dye, and the speedboats overhead,

discourage the tuna from making
a dash through the closing gap

in the wall of net.

As the net closes,

a draw-cord running along the bottom
of the net is pulled tight.

The net becomes a bag, or "purse",
and the fish are trapped.

There are 150 tonnes of fish
in this one haul.

It used to take a fishing vessel
one whole year to catch this many fish.

These are mostly yellowfin tuna,
plus some skipjack.

As they're slower breeders
than skipjack,

many yellowfin are caught
before they're old enough to breed.

This makes them more vulnerable
to over-fishing.

Tuna fishing has grown into
an eight-billion dollar industry.

And over four million tonnes of tuna
are caught worldwide each year,

a four-fold increase
in as many decades.

Almost two-thirds of the catch
now comes from the Pacific.

In the Atlantic, yellowfin catches
have been shrinking since 1990.

Now a similar decline
has begun in the Pacific.

Tuna need to swim constantly

to keep water flowing over their gills,
otherwise they can't breathe.

The fishermen want to get them
out of the water as quickly as possible.

When starved of oxygen, a build-up
of lactic acid in their muscles

causes the quality of their meat
to deteriorate.

The fish are scooped up from the water,
a tonne or two at a time.

Every last fish from this school

of 7,000 yellowfin and skipjack tuna
is plucked from the water.

With fishing techniques now so efficient,

and with ever more vessels
plying the Pacific,

there is real concern among biologists

that even the resilient skipjack
may begin to decline.

This vessel is not one of the newcomers.

It's a Papua New Guinea-flagged ship,
fishing in their territorial waters.

So it is subject to catch limits

and regulations that are amongst
the strictest in the Pacific,

designed to ensure that
tuna fishing remains sustainable.

But New Guinea's fishermen are concerned
about the increasing numbers

of foreign vessels
now fishing for Pacific tuna.

They were the first nation to propose

that the high seas pockets
beyond their national waters

be declared marine reserves,
as now advocated by Greenpeace.

After our cameraman left the Esperanza,

Greenpeace continued their journey,

and captured these images
of the world's biggest purse seiner,

with a capacity almost four times
larger than the New Guinea vessel.

It's a Spanish ship
fishing for Pacific tuna

to stock European supermarkets.

The presence of such large vessels,

from countries that have already
over-fished their own tuna stocks,

has riled the operators
of local fishing fleets,

perhaps with some justification.

Some biologists have recently warned
that tuna populations in the Pacific

will be crashing within five years
unless urgent action is taken.

Perhaps it's time to think again
about the ways we fish.

These pole and line fishermen
are Solomon Islanders,

and this fishing is a local industry.

They target specific species,
and mature individuals.

There's almost no by-catch -
no seabirds, no sharks.

And they can be selective -
flicking juvenile fish off their hooks

so they can grow and breed.

Because it's impossible
to hook every last fish in a school,

some are always left
to fight another day.

And since the fish
don't suffer for hours in nets,

this meat is of a high quality.

These fishermen may not catch
as many fish as a purse seiner,

but then, that's the point.

Whether any fishing is sustainable

depends on how many fish are caught,
how many are left to breed

and how many other species
are caught by accident.

But these fishermen
may have got it about right.

The Marine Stewardship Council
assesses the environmental impacts

of the world's fisheries,
and they believe

that pole and line fisheries
have the potential

to be approved as officially sustainable.

So now it's down to us, the fish-eaters.

It may cost a few pennies more

to buy a tin of tuna
labelled "sustainably caught",

but it could ensure future generations
can also enjoy a tuna sandwich,

tuna steak or sashimi.

And protecting the fish
will ensure a healthy ocean

for all the marine life of the Pacific.

It will require international
commitment and co-operation,

but the whales are a reminder
that it can be done.

For the whales, for the fish,
and for ourselves,

the way we harvest the Pacific is key
to protecting this fragile ocean paradise.

To film the purse seine fishing sequence,

the South Pacific team decided
they would need to put a cameraman

inside the fishing net.

Few divers have ever
attempted this before.

And it proved to be a real challenge.

To be in the right spot at the right time,

the film crew must take up residence
on a purse seine vessel.

This 60-metre Papua New Guinea vessel
can hold 800 tonnes of fish.

For the 30-strong, all-male crew
this boat is home.

They spend 330 days of the year at sea,

and can go two years
without seeing their families.

Their lives are
a never-ending quest for fish.

They're in port for three days,

which gives the film crew a chance

to jump on board.

Here we are.

It's a vast ocean,

and even the fishermen
don't know where the fish are,

so they set a course for the location
of their last big catch.

The film crew have arranged
for a dive boat to meet them there.

Without the support
of a professional dive boat,

it would be dangerous
to get in the water and film.

Just hours after leaving, reports
come in of big tuna catches up north,

and the captain sets a new course.

This is not good news for the team.

Our dive boat is based out of here...

and we're gonna be up here.

For the dive boat,
that would be about 45 hours.

This new location is well out of range
of the dive boat.

With the success of the shoot
hinging on the diving,

this is a worrying turn of events.

The fishing boat motors on
all night, taking the team

further and further
from their planned rendezvous.

Our position now is three degrees...

Eventually, the crew make contact
with a passing fishing boat,

and it's heading back
in the direction of their dive boat.

There is another boat out here,

which is going on a much better course,
so we're gonna transfer.

It's a lucky escape for the team.

The new vessel spends
all day and all night

motoring towards
the new fishing grounds.

8.28 in the morning,
and we've already discovered fish.

Right out there, about 150 metres,

the sea is frothing and boiling

and that's obviously where the tuna are,

so the ship is doing a circle round it
and that's where they'll set the nets.

It's all on, it's all on.

Although it's a relief to begin filming,

the real challenge is still to come.

They need to get inside the net,

and right now, that's not
a very inviting prospect.

But first, they need their dive boat
to find them in this vast expanse.

I can see our dive boat on the horizon,
she's a little speck in the distance.

Here we ago again, ship transfer.

There you go, that's our new home.

See you tomorrow.

At five in the morning, the fishermen
are already setting the nets.

It's time to take the plunge.

It may seem a little strange

why we're putting fishing net
on our scuba gear,

but it has a very useful purpose.
These jagged edges of the gear

are completely covered
with this fishing net

to prevent us from getting
snagged and caught like fish.

I don't normally wear a knife this big,
but in this kind of situation,

with all the nets around
and possibility of entanglement,

it's a really good idea.

This is a shark shield,
and with a tuna-fishing boat,

thousands of bloody tuna in the water,

and a sea full of sharks,
it could come in very handy.

They enter the net.

Despite having done
all they can to prepare,

this is a jump into the unknown.

The scale of the net is breathtaking.

They're relieved to find
that there are no sharks this time.

But there are also no fish.

Frustratingly, days pass

and the fishermen
fail to find any more fish.

We're going down to the wire here.

We've got two days left
and we still haven't seen any fish,

so getting a little nervous.

Yeah, it'd be tragic to be out here
and not have the opportunity to film this.

Eventually, they locate a school.

So the question is,
are there any fish in that net?

This is the team's last chance
to get the sequence.

To their great relief,
all their effort has finally paid off.

They share the net
with 150 tonnes of tuna -

one of the biggest catches of the year.

It's an intense experience.

Once again, there are no sharks.

But as the net tightens,
the space inside gets ever smaller.

The fish begin to panic.

Eventually, the crew have to bail out.

They continue to film
from outside the net.

The filming has been a success,

but seeing death on this scale
has quite an impact on the team.

Speechless, really.

It was...unbelievable.

Really. It's hard to find words
to describe that.

At first you got in, it was just empty,
there's just that serene silence, that...

Turn around, and all of a sudden,
this whole space is filled with fish,

just frenetic, fast-moving fish
just going crazy.

From then on in,
it was just absolutely intense.

You don't know
which is up or down or side.

Your whole frame of reference goes off.

And finally, the net
was the one static point, wasn't it?

ELLEN: At the start of the dive,
you feel like the net

is something to keep away from,
but by the end of the dive

the net is the only thing
you can use as a frame of reference

and everything else is just moving,
and it's very disorientating.

And there were other surprises.

The slick of blood that comes from this
is just, like, pouring out of the net

in this massive slick,
and you would have thought in this ocean

it would have attracted
hundreds of sharks,

but I didn't see a single one,
not one shark.

It's a worrying sign
that all is not well in the South Pacific.

So what of the fish?

What we saw today
was a highly unique experience

and I think it does make you wonder
what our impact on the oceans are

when you see it first-hand like that.

The team were lucky.

With so many vessels
now fishing throughout the Pacific,

it may not be possible to film scenes
like these for very much longer.