Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
*
Every year, the frozen waters of Hudson Bay
open up for just a few months...
Unlocking a seasonal bounty...
That lures in ghostly forms who come to feed...
*
As winter releases its frozen grip,
the surrounding land transforms...
Into a vast wetland teeming with life.
*
Thousands converge here to reap the summer's abundance...
*
While the very survival of others is under threat.
*
It's a world that ebbs and flows with
the ancient rhythm of the seasons...
*
A rhythm now in distress,
in the face of unprecedented climate change.
*
This is the story of feast and famine
along the western shore of Hudson Bay.
*
*
*
*
Mighty Hudson Bay cuts through the Canadian North,
extending the Arctic's icy reach deep into the continent.
*
Nowhere else on the planet does the
polar sea ice extend this far south of the Arctic Circle.
*
The southern shore of Hudson Bay is on
the same latitude as London,
though the average temperature is a full
thirty degrees Fahrenheit colder
*
Hudson Bay is frozen over from December to June.
*
Winter temperatures can plummet to a bone-chilling
negative forty, making it one of the
coldest places in the Americas.
*
The long deep freeze allows polar bears to hunt on the
vast expanse of ice for months,
roaming further south than anywhere else on earth.
For most of the year they're hunting seals,
their favorite food.
*
But now, it's July.
*
The Arctic summer is finally here...
*
*
The temperature rises dramatically,
m an average low of negative xteen degrees Fahrenheit
in January, to a high of
plus 53 in July.
*
*
Huge chunks of sea ice wash ashore,
and shrink away in the summer sun.
*
With the summer thaw, Hudson Bay's
distinctive shoreline emerges.
*
This is the estuary of the Churchill River,
which flows 1,000 miles
om its headwaters in central Saskatchewan.
*
The shoreline comes to life with the summer thaw.
Creatures from as far away as Antarctica make an
annual pilgrimage to take advantage of the brief,
but bountiful, warm season.
*
*
Each July, strange voices
to ring through the water.
(squeals)
At first, they're scattered...
Echoing through the depths.
(squeals)
But then...they become louder and louder.
(squeals)
Calling back and forth...
in a complex song.
*
The beluga whales of Hudson Bay
return to their summer home.
*
*
(clicks, chrips, squeaks)
(clicks, chrips, squeaks)
The Inuit call them Qilalugaq...
White whale.
*
Their skin is so starkly white...
it seems almost incandescent
in the dark water.
(chirps)
In the spring, the belugas leave their winter homes in
Hudson Strait and the Atlantic Ocean and
begin heading southwest -
many of them swimming almost 1,000 miles
to the shores of Western Hudson Bay.
(clicks and chirps)
Over the coming weeks around 57,000 belugas
will congregate here,
over a quarter of the total estimated population,
and the largest single gathering of belugas
anywhere in the world.
They come seeking warmer water and
rich feeding grounds.
*
*
*
*
Like all whales,
belugas communicate with each other through sound.
By blowing air through nasal sacs near their blowhole,
belugas create squeaks...
Clicks...
And whistles.
(beluga sounds)
hey produce such a diversity f sounds that their songs
have earned them the nickname "canaries of the sea."
The bulb on the beluga's head
focuses sound waves into a beam,
which bounces off objects all around the whale.
Sound moves faster and further in water than in air,
and belugas can sense the size and shape
of objects up to 30 miles away.
Up close, a sonic survey quickly distinguishes
friend from foe.
Belugas have been migrating here for thousands of years,
but now their summer home in Hudson Bay is changing.
*
Global warming means less ice,
increasing the human reach of shipping and industry.
*
This deafening new presence poses a real threat to a
species that relies on sound for navigation,
to find food and to detect predators.
*
As it becomes more difficult for them to communicate,
the future of these whales is uncertain.
*
Above the water, things are changing too.
Summers are lasting longer.
*
These harbor seals have spent the entire winter here.
They enjoy an afternoon nap
in the warming rays of the sun.
While very agile swimmers, they're cumbersome on land...
Always on the lookout for polar bears.
*
The thaw comes as a relief after a long winter on the ice,
where the seals are at a distinct disadvantage to
the bears that hunt them relentlessly.
*
Harbor seals pretty much keep to themselves
all winter long.
But for a few weeks each summer,
these introverts become more tolerant of one another.
*
In a few days mating season will begin.
These two males are waiting for the females
to come into estrus.
Their play is a form of competition.
They can swim up to 12 miles per hour.
*
Companions for now, competitors in a few days,
they head out together into the estuary to
gorge themselves on a rich dinner of fish.
*
Life in the Churchill River estuary
is governed by the tides.
*
Twice a day, as the water recedes,
this landscape dramatically transforms.
*
The water drops as much as sixteen feet at low tide,
and the shores of the estuary lie exposed.
*
With the ice finally gone, and the tide at low ebb,
an enormous summer buffet awaits.
(clicks, chirping)
Sandhill cranes return to Western Hudson Bay
after wintering in the American South and Mexico.
They take advantage of the shallow water.
For much of the year,
cranes enjoy a mostly vegetarian diet,
eating plants and grains --
but summer is their season of indulgence.
They become voracious carnivores dining on
invertebrates and small amphibians...
Like the wood frog.
Sandhill cranes are not the only summer residents
of the lively estuary.
Exposed mudflats are also crucial to
many species of shorebirds.
(chirps)
This greater yellowlegs is built for water,
so a tree landing is a clumsy enterprise.
*
The bird migrated with thousands of others,
over 2,500 miles from South America,
to share in the rich bounty the Arctic offers every summer.
*
It's a long trip to make for a diet of worms,
snails and small crustaceans.
But it's worth it.
The yellowlegs finds its food by feeling,
with its long probing beak.
*
This summer resident on the other hand,
finds its food by sight.
The semi-palmated plover's ability to sense motion is
up to three times more powerful than that of a
human with 20/20 vision.
*
The ebb and flow of the tides provide an
ever-changing food source for the 250 species of birds
that call the Churchill River estuary
their summer home.
A rhythm governed by forces far beyond the shores
of Hudson Bay.
The spin of the Earth holds water to its surface...
But the gravitational tug of the moon
pulls the ocean's water toward it.
The bulge of high tide tracks the moon
as it passes overhead, circling the globe.
*
And now, the water is once again on the rise.
*
*
*
Here, in the shallow, warmer water,
protected from the perils of the open ocean,
the beluga whales raise their young.
The calves were born just over a month ago.
They were just about five feet long at birth,
and will reach up to thirteen feet as adults.
(chirps)
*
Their brownish grey will turn snowy white
ound five or six years of age.
(chirps)
*
The mothers have help taking care of their calves.
A community of sisters, cousins,
aunts, and grandmothers offer support.
Many of the females start producing milk when another
female's new baby is born,
even if they themselves have no infant.
*
They form kindergarten groups,
with 10 to 15 young calves playing and socializing
under the care of a few watchful adults.
(chirping)
And...they all talk non-stop.
(beluga sounds)
Their system of communication is complex.
Hinting at a level of intelligence
we are only beginning to understand.
But they're not born with this ability to chirp,
squeak and whistle.
(chirps, squeaks)
Just as human babies aren't born knowing how to speak,
belugas can only make barely audible sounds
soon after birth.
They must learn the repertoire of sounds
from their elders.
The Churchill River estuary is a summer school
for these young whales.
(squeaks, whistles)
*
As the water reverberates with the chatter of belugas,
the sky also fills with sound.
(squawking)
Thousands of snow geese arrive from their wintering
grounds in the southern United States
to feed and breed.
(honking)
*
Geese form strong family units.
Last year's parents and chicks have spent the winter
together, and flown back here together.
Now, the families break up and the
yearlings separate to start out on their own.
The parents will breed again this summer,
while the yearlings must wait another year or two to
reach sexual maturity.
But for all the geese, old and young,
eating is top priority.
Their sharp beaks are ideally suited to shear off
plants, or to rip entire stems from the ground.
Snow geese are impressive travelers not only by air...
But also by land!
The geese nest together by the thousands,
a strength in numbers which keeps their eggs
safe from predators.
But the tradeoff is that food is often scarce.
So after the chicks hatch, they disperse with their
parents, looking for places where there's more to eat...
Sometimes up to fifty miles away from the nest.
*
Even though young snow geese can't yet fly,
they can outrun many predators --
an incredible ability for an aquatic species
more famous for waddling than walking.
*
Like the snow geese,
tundra swans also me to the estuary to breed,
and to teach their young the basics.
*
There's a first time for everything.
(chirping)
The young swan only hatched 48 hours ago,
but its first and most important lesson
has already begun.
It needs to learn to swim.
The water is daunting.
This baby swan has never swum before.
Instinctively the parents know that the
summer will soon be over,
and their young have a steep learning curve
if they want to survive the long and
dangerous migration south.
(chirping)
*
The father coaxes the hatchling to come in.
*
(chirping)
*
The cygnet still doesn't seem convinced...
*
*
But the second it hits the water, instinct kicks in.
*
Now the whole family -- parents and three chicks --
go on their first excursion.
*
But here, on the water,
danger always lurks from above.
The ever-present gulls keep an eye on the young swans.
*
(squawks)
They are still light enough to be carried away,
making for a perfect meal.
*
But the swan family stay close together and
keep their young safe.
The gulls must move on to search for an easier target.
*
(loon calls)
The haunting cries of Pacific loons
carry across the estuary.
The birds spend most of the year on North America's
west coast, from as far north as Alaska
o Baja Mexico in the south.
They migrate to Western Hudson Bay for three months
in the summer to breed.
Pacific loons are excellent divers,
propelling themselves with their strong legs and
steering with their wings.
Most loon species are solitary and territorial,
with each mating pair dominating
huge areas of water.
Pacific loons are more social than other loons,
sharing space and sometimes even fishing grounds.
These loons are the estuary's
most accomplished fishers.
By summer's end, each adult loon consumes up to
250 pounds, or twenty times its weight.
*
And the biggest catch of the summer is about to arrive --
not just for the loons, but also for belugas,
seals and other water residents of the estuary.
*
Capelin arrive in vast schools...
tens of thousands swimming together.
They typically prefer cold, deep water on the high seas
of Hudson Bay... But now,
ey migrate into the shallow,
warmer waters of the estuary to lay their eggs.
*
And for these capelin,
these beaches are a treacherous run to reach.
*
Pods of belugas descend on the tasty little fish.
*
(clicks, chirps, whistles)
Working together, the whales
herd the capelin into shallow water.
Then, they attack.
(clicks, chirps)
The belugas feed in a series of jerky head movements,
taking in as many capelin as possible
in their short, small jaws.
*
The panicked capelin stay as close as possible to the
rocky bottom to avoid the whale's deadly attack.
They're small, less than eight inches long.
But these bite-sized fish provide beluga whales with
vitamins and nutrients in their fatty flesh.
(clicks, chirps)
*
*
Young belugas join their mothers on the hunt,
watching and learning.
*
This youngster still relies on its mother's milk for food.
*
*
Like human babies,
beluga calves don't have teeth...
It will take over a year before they grow in.
Only then the young whales can join in the capelin hunt.
*
*
The feeding continues for days,
as over 50,000 belugas gorge on the clouds of capelin
pouring into the estuary.
*
While the whales feast, polar bears watch from the
shoreline, with almost nothing at all to eat.
Polar bears are the world's largest land carnivores.
More than a thousand of them thrive here
on the western shores of Hudson Bay,
the most southern extent of the species' range.
Polar bears feed mainly on seals.
In the winter, they hunt them out on the ice.
In the summer, when the ice is gone,
the seals are faster swimmers and
harder to catch.
So the end of winter means one thing...
Hunger...
And sleep.
*
The bears wile away the hours and...
Contend with millions of blackflies.
*
It's a tough time of year for the bears,
and in the face of climate change
it's only getting tougher.
*
More ice-free days mean a longer period with little food,
which poses a clear threat to their survival.
*
Throughout the Arctic, polar bears are
solitary predators, hunting alone and
keeping their distance from other bears.
*
It's only here, on the shores of Western Hudson Bay
that the bears come together every summer.
*
*
Some of these bears might not have seen another of
their kind for the entire year.
Still, they recognize each other,
as polar bears have exceptionally good memory.
And some males create strong,
lasting bonds.
*
*
*
A mother and her cub give the males a wide berth...
Cannibalism is common among polar bears.
Male bears can prey on cubs.
*
This mother takes no chances.
Staying downwind she sniffs the air...
trying to read the mood they are in.
*
But the males pay her no mind...
*
Polar bears are famous for being fierce predators,
but they also have a playful side.
These two males don't seem very fearsome now.
The cool water offers welcome relief
from the hot summer sun.
*
*
*
*
*
While polar bears throughout the Arctic must now endure
longer summers, those that live in Hudson Bay
are already accustomed to long periods
stranded on land with little food.
This has been their way of life for generations.
The bears in Western Hudson Bay are currently unable to
hunt seals for about 150 days each summer.
If that threshold is pushed by just thirty more days,
up to fifty percent of young bears
could die of starvation.
Their ice-free diet is a steady routine of grass,
seaweed, bird eggs...
And geese.
But this varied summer menu is no nutritional match
for one good, fatty seal.
*
till, polar bears can devastate entire goose colonies...
so the adult geese are watchful.
*
The adults are aggressive, and would not hesitate to
attack the bear if it came too close.
*
The polar bear weighs the investment of its energy
against the return of a small goose...
and this time, makes no pursuit.
*
Longer, hotter summers are hard on the bears,
but good for the geese.
A longer growing season means more food.
And after the geese move on,
they leave behind a much-needed addition
l over the estuary's shores.
Animal feces are one of the few sources of nutrients and
minerals in the poor, boggy soil of the tundra
known as muskeg.
Muskeg covers most of the Hudson Bay lowlands.
Its acidic soil is made up mostly of waterlogged peat
and sphagnum mosses.
uch a huge expanse of peat,
over 125,000 sq miles,
occurs nowhere else in North America.
*
Arctic arnica... moss campion...
And Labrador tea...
all call the boglands home.
Although the common butterwort might look dainty...
it's anything but.
The soil it's growing in is so poor in nitrogen it has
devised its own strategy to supplement its diet.
It has turned carnivorous.
Its bright yellow-green leaves exude a sticky fluid,
which attracts unsuspecting insects.
Once an insect gets trapped,
enzymes digest the prey... alive.
*
Across the stony tundra Lapland rosebay forms a
lush blanket of pink...
stretching to the horizon.
This plant is as rugged as it is beautiful.
It's so well adjusted to these harsh lands,
it cannot grow in warmer climates.
*
Western Hudson Bay is also home to the most
dainty of flower families...
the orchids.
The round-leaved orchid is an unusual
representative of its kind...
It's tough as nails...
able to withstand the frigid Arctic winds.
It thrives in moist and mossy areas
in the sphagnum bogs.
Its cousin... the northern lady slipper
prefers it sandy...
and tends to grow on exposed gravel ridges.
*
But whether the bed is sandy,
gravely, salty or rocky...
underneath...there's peat.
Once thought to be a barren wasteland,
it's now understood that these peatlands
are crucial to life on earth.
They help regulate our climate.
*
When a wetland drains, carbon stored in the soil
converts to carbon dioxide.
There's as much potential carbon dioxide held in the
world's wetlands as in the atmosphere.
The peatland ecosystem is the most efficient
carbon sink on the planet.
Wetland protection is vital, to slow global warming.
*
nd there is yet another crucial function muskeg performs.
It also filters toxic chemicals from water systems.
The Hudson Bay watershed is
the second largest in North America.
The lakes and rivers covering almost
one and a half million square miles
drain into Hudson Bay,
from as far west as the Rocky Mountains.
*
This land contains most of Canada's
agricultural industries.
*
Anything dumped into the water including runoff from
cities, pesticides from farms and
overfertilized fields
eventually ends up in Hudson Bay.
Muskeg filters out these poisons.
But this fragile environment is under threat.
Vast summer algal blooms threaten to choke out
all other plant life in the waters that flow into
Hudson Bay, disrupting the muskeg's delicate balance.
*
The survival of animal life in the estuary depends on
the survival of these lowlands.
*
On the edge of the bog,
a colony of Arctic terns have built their nests.
*
These are the world's greatest long distance flyers.
*
They make an astonishing journey on a flight path
of over 22,000 miles...
from the Arctic to the Antarctic...
And back again... within a single year.
No other species on earth travels as far.
These birds see two summers per year and more daylight
than any other creature on the planet.
*
The Hudson Bay lowlands are a crucial stop on their
annual, globetrotting flight.
It's where they raise their young.
(chirping)
The female lays one to three eggs.
They seem dangerously exposed to predators
on the open ground...
but they are perfectly camouflaged.
*
Arctic terns are caring parents...
And both incubate the eggs.
*
Three or four weeks later, the chicks hatch.
(chirping)
*
*
*
The parents continue to keep them safe and warm...
(squawks)
*
But within a few days, the young venture off
on their own and explore their surroundings.
They usually try to stick close to large rocks,
where they can hide more easily...
though this one has other ideas.
*
The chicks seem to be all alone...
But looks are deceiving.
Even though they are helpless and flightless
on the ground...
a tern colony is actually the safest place
for any chick to be.
Arctic terns are extremely defensive of their territory.
*
They gang up on any intruder that
dares to venture close to their young.
Even one of the world's most dangerous predators
doesn't scare the fearless birds.
They might be too small to cause serious injury,
but diving down at high velocity they can draw blood
and send any predator packing by the sheer
determination of their assault.
*
The short summer will soon be over...
and the terns will once again make
their long journey south.
The shores of Western Hudson Bay will fall silent again.
The swan family is also getting ready to migrate south.
The days when the young cygnets were
scared of the water seem long forgotten.
The tides maintain a steady rhythm.
The capelin have long since departed...
's like they were never here.
But their millions of eggs deposited along the
gravely beaches of the estuary,
evidence of their presence.
The larvae will hatch at the end of the summer...
And wash away with the tides...
into deeper waters of Hudson Bay
and beyond to the Atlantic.
Next year, these young capelin will feed thousands
of beluga whales, now readying for their
920 mile journey back to the open sea.
And the cycle continues.
*
Soon Hudson Bay will begin to freeze over and
become uninhabitable for the whales.
It's time for them to go.
*
*
Soon it will be time for the polar bears to go, too.
The Bay will freeze over, and their winter hunting
on the ice will begin --
a rhythm that has continued for generations.
*
The creatures of Hudson Bay face new,
dramatic changes caused by human impact
on this once-remote world.
Theirs is an enduring connection,
bound by the fragile balance of the seasons,
to the estuaries of Hudson Bay.
*
*
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.