All language subtitles for BE2DD2A061318A26DCBE4E3912B8277E_eng

When I was a kid, this was my playground.

The Pacific Ocean,
the world's largest and deepest.

It inspires awe, wonder,

and sometimes even fear.

Our oceans are as critical
to our survival as the air we breathe.

Around the world, we have protected
close to 8% of these waters.

Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary
is an example of that.

Stretching along a quarter
of California's coastline,

from San Francisco in the north,

to Big Sur in the south…

this unique reserve protects more than
6,000 square miles of the Pacific Ocean.

It's a hot spot for visitors…

from migrating wildlife,

to the tourists who come to see them.

Monterey's rich waters are a huge draw,

even for the biggest animal of all time.

The magnificent blue whale.

All this natural wonder
right on California's doorstep.

But can protected places
and millions of people coexist?

Could there be a future for wild spaces

where, alongside all of us,
nature still thrives?

Each season in Monterey Bay
creates its own dramatic story.

The toughest time of all is winter.

It's December at Point Año Nuevo

towards the northern end of the sanctuary.

These remote sand dunes are reserved
for California's most charismatic visitor.

Northern elephant seals…

named for their long snouts,
which males flaunt to attract a mate.

But at this time of year,

the females have other things
on their minds.

Each mom usually gives birth
to a single pup.

This one is just four weeks old

and already weighs 300 pounds.

All thanks to his mother's milk.

At 55% fat, it's some of the richest
in the animal kingdom.

But producing such nutritious milk
comes at a cost.

After a month on the beach,
his mom has given all she can.

She must return to the sea
to feed herself…

never to return to him.

For the first time in his life,
this pup is on his own.

He's big enough to be weaned,
but he's still hungry.

Being abandoned is a trial
that every pup must face.

Most of these weaners now fast

until they're old enough
to hunt for themselves.

But once in a while, a pup comes along

that is not prepared to accept his fate…

…and attempts to pull off

a milk heist.

It will call for cunning and deception.

And the ability to go in under the radar.

Easier said than done.

All he has to do
is bump this pup out of the way.

Busted.

Maybe he could use a distraction.

Luckily for him…

fights regularly break out
between the two-ton males.

Almost there.

He can't afford
to get caught in the crossfire.

It's a lucky escape.

Around one in 40 youngsters
die from being crushed every year.

As peace returns

and the colony settle down for a snooze…

…he spots

a soft target.

If he doesn't wake up Mom.

Easy does it.

Success!

Mom hasn't seen the switch
and drives her own youngster away.

This young criminal mastermind

gets away with another round of feeding.

And a head start
when he first goes to sea in spring.

Only about one in a thousand pups
masters this sneaky strategy.

Those that pull it off become so enormous

that scientists call them super weaners.

But for most, winter in Monterey
means there is less food to go around.

And in the vast, open expanse
of the sanctuary,

finding the next meal is never easy.

Orca.

These supremely intelligent killer whales
are the ocean's top predators.

They live in close family groups.

This pod relies on the wisdom
of their experienced matriarch…

…named Star by the researchers
who study her.

One of Star's daughters is pregnant.

Orca have calves about every five years.

So it's more important than ever
that they find food, and soon.

A lone California sea lion.

A much-needed meal
for Star and her pregnant daughter.

Their celebration helps strengthen
the family bonds.

But this kill
won't keep them going for long.

Star must lead her family
in the search for more.

It's not just the lack of food
that makes winter such a tough time here.

As the swell rolls in…

it meets the sanctuary's
shallow coastal waters.

It becomes one of the biggest
and best-known waves in the world.

Mavericks.

Epic for surfers.

But the waves' relentless power can make
the coast an exhausting place to live.

Although there are places to find shelter…

if you know where to look.

Monterey's man-made harbors
were once home to commercial fleets

that stripped the ocean of its wildlife

on an industrial scale.

Many species,
from sardines to the great whales,

came close to extinction.

In 1992, Monterey Bay was declared

a national marine sanctuary.

Now these same harbors offer some respite.

A place to relax.

And recover.

The southern sea otter.

Once hunted for their pelts,
their numbers fell as low as 50.

Now protected, the sanctuary supports
over 2,000 of these critters.

The old whaling port of Moss Landing
at the center of Monterey Bay

welcomes its newest arrival.

A baby sea otter pup,

just a few hours old.

He's utterly helpless,

so relies totally on his mom.

She needs to keep him warm and dry.

It's a never-ending job.

Fortunately, we have created
some handy haul-out sites.

If she can find any space
amongst the crowds.

And even when she does…

…it's just too high.

Time for a feed

and a rest in the warmth of the sun.

As a new mother,
she can't just stay with her pup.

To produce quality milk,
she must be well-fed herself.

And that means leaving him alone.

But the harbor's walkways are too busy.

So the search is on for a quiet,
dry place to stash him away safely.

Perfect.

Now that he's safe,

the rarest of opportunities for a new mom.

Some "me time."

She forages for shellfish
and burrowing worms.

Nursing moms need to double
the calories they eat.

Until he's weaned in six months' time,

he will depend on her
finding enough food for both of them.

And the newest resident of Monterey Bay

is back where he most wants to be.

The sanctuary also nurtures life
beyond its waters.

Warm currents flowing up from the south
release their heat into the air…

taking the bite out of winter
and creating the perfect conditions

for a precious visitor.

Arriving in these protected coastal
woodlands within the city of Santa Cruz…

a western monarch butterfly.

It's flown up to 1,000 miles to get here,

all the way from Canada.

And it's not alone.

An entire colony
will spend the next few months here,

protected from the harsh winters
further north.

Once, millions sheltered in these woods.

Now, less than 1% remain,

the others lost to climate change

and habitat destruction.

These trees are one
of their few protected havens.

Now, the monarchs must hold out
for spring to arrive.

Finally, after the long wait,
a warmer sun rises.

They spread their wings
to absorb the heat.

And flap to stir cold flight muscles.

Then, when the moment's right…

they head inland to lay their eggs.

With successive generations
working their way back towards Canada…

carrying a new hope
for the future of their species…

thanks to the gift
of the ocean's winter warmth.

Reminding us
that the health of our climate

and our ocean are intimately connected.

The arrival of spring is marked
by a change in the prevailing winds.

Northwesterlies drive an upwelling
of cold water from the deep.

It also brings nutrients to the shallows.

And within weeks,

mesmerizing patterns
start to appear all along the coast.

Forests of kelp.

These giant algae
support a vibrant community.

The perfect place for Monterey's
sea otters to search for food.

And the kelp helps
in the fight against climate change

by capturing up to 20 times more carbon
per acre than forests on land.

This hungry otter won't find
what he's looking for up here.

At the base of the kelp
is a spring pantry of fresh food.

But it's not all to his taste.

Sea otters are fussy eaters.

When young, they get a taste
for their mom's favorite food.

Some eat spiky urchins.

But not this one.

He loves mussels.

Lots of them.

And when the otters need to kick back
and digest their meal…

they roll themselves up in the fronds…

…and enjoy a nap
without drifting out to sea.

The spring kelp acts
as a safe haven for many.

But beyond lie deeper waters
with nowhere to hide.

Monterey Bay conceals an underwater abyss

every bit as magnificent
as the Grand Canyon.

Just over 10,000 feet deep,
it splits the bay in two.

Any animal swimming along the coast
will cross the canyon.

Star and her hungry family know it.

Now a grandma, Star has
a two-month-old calf to look after.

She's timed their arrival here

to set an ambush
for their most important prey.

Every April, gray whales and their calves
migrate north through the sanctuary.

Sticking close to the safety of the shore,
they are camouflaged by the kelp forests.

But when they reach the middle of the bay…

they have no option but to break cover.

Adult grays are about eight times
the weight of an orca.

Too big to take on.

So the smaller calf will be the target.

Enough to feed the whole family
for many days.

When hunting, they fall silent.

The largest adults lead the attack.

First, they ram the calf…

hitting it with so much force,
they lift the 2,000-pound young gray

almost out of the water.

But its protective mother fights back.

One swipe of her huge tail…

could be deadly to an orca.

They push the calf away from its mother.

One by one, they launch onto its back…

trying to drown it.

In the thick of the action,
the youngest orca calf,

already learning from its elders.

The gray whale's mother
hasn't given up yet.

She tries to keep her calf's head
above the surface.

But she's no match
for the family working together.

It's a mercifully swift end to events.

This one whale will sustain many.

And Star has passed on the skills
her family will need to survive.

Spring turns to summer, and there's
a dramatic change in the weather.

After warming the land all winter,
the sea now cools it.

The cold water welling up from the deep
meets the warm summer air…

and sea fog starts to form.

Known locally as the June Gloom,
it blankets the shore.

At the sanctuary's northern edge,

it envelops San Francisco's
iconic Golden Gate Bridge.

For the next few months,
it will bring badly needed moisture

along the coast to one of the most
drought-ridden states in America.

Supporting towering forests.

And maintaining a lush, green landscape
through the hottest months.

But gradually through the summer,

the sunshine burns off the fog
and begins to warm the sea surface.

New creatures start to appear.

Some having traveled thousands of miles.

Majestic blue whales.

They pair up here
en route to mating grounds further south.

Giant sunfish, ten feet across,

lie on their sides
to soak up the sun's rays.

Risso's dolphins play in the swell.

And a mysterious new arrival.

A great white shark.

She's around six years old.

Not yet big enough
to maintain her own body temperature.

So she's heading
for a warm, shallow cove by Santa Cruz…

already busy with other summer visitors.

But she's just six feet long…

…and only interested in eating fish.

For the last few years,
dozens of young great whites

have been hanging out here in summer.

Nicknamed Shark Park,

this is the northernmost place
in the Pacific

these youngsters are known to gather.

An inspiring opportunity
for the sanctuary's human visitors

to appreciate these icons of the ocean.

But Monterey's greatest spectacle
is still to come.

Where sunlight meets the nutrient-rich
water rising up from the deep…

the ocean turns green.

Billions of microscopic algae
called phytoplankton multiply.

They might be tiny,
but these plant-like cells

are critical for all life.

Globally, they generate more oxygen

than all the world's
rain forests combined.

Within days, a green flame forms
on the surface of the ocean

that's visible from space.

These blooms are the first rung
of a complex food chain.

And as summer turns to fall,
they trigger the start

of one of the most incredible events
in the ocean.

Beginning with sea nettle jellies.

One and a half feet across…

and up to 15 feet in length…

these otherworldly creatures
drift until they find the plankton blooms.

Then, pulsating, they fight the current
to gorge themselves.

Forming huge swarms.

The great gathering has begun.

Anchovies arrive in their millions,

also here to feast on the plankton.

These dark, dense shoals of fish
can stretch over a mile wide.

But they, too, are on the menu.

California sea lions.

Anchovy hunters.

Hundreds strong.

But finding the shoals
over such a vast area is far from easy.

Humpback whales join the hunt.

They can pinpoint the anchovies
from huge distances away.

How they do this is a mystery.

But the sea lions seem to know
what the whales are up to…

and follow in their wake.

Once they have zoned in on the fish…

the sea lions charge in…

rounding them up.

As the anchovies panic,
they form an ever-tighter ball.

A 5,000-gallon mouthful.

It pays to work as a team.

A pod of a thousand dolphins

rush to join the bonanza.

Everyone will feast
until the shoal is no more.

This extraordinary banquet
is one of the great wonders

of the natural world…

playing out within sight
of the densely populated California coast.

Monterey Bay's marine life
has seen a remarkable recovery.

But it's a very small piece
of a much bigger jigsaw.

And around the world,
ocean health is in steep decline.

Sea temperatures are rising,
damaging entire ecosystems.

Fish stocks are plummeting,
causing havoc up and down the food chain.

And pollution is escalating,

poisoning our seas.

To tackle these threats,

we need to expand
and connect our marine sanctuaries.

And by protecting the ocean's hot spots,

we can generate impact
far beyond the sanctuary's borders…

enriching the ocean beyond,
and our own lives too.

The fate of the world's oceans
affects every single one of us.

They are our life-support system.

Our health and theirs are bound together.

Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary
gives us hope

that although human activity
has harmed the ocean,

as long as we make
the right choices from now on,

we can heal it too.