All language subtitles for Episode 04 Autumn

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 tonne 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 slip stream.

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.

Brunnich's 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 green pigment
that harnesses the sun's energy

and red and yellow pigments build
up in their leaves.

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

A bull musk ox marks his territory
with scent from 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

provides 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-manoeuvred.

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 a hundred 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 Adelie 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 creches 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 only be enough
food for one.

This race could determine which
chick has the better prospects.

Most Adelie 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 practise.

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 recognise
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 Adelies 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 5 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
neighbours around 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 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.

OK, let's go.

With their penguin guides
leading the way,

snowmobiles are brought in
to haul 500kgs 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
chiselling 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 computerised
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.

There's a lot of adrenalin.

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's 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.

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.

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 70mph 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 film crew by surprise.

Each day they must dig out
their buried equipment.

Filming has ground to a halt.

One week and a metre 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 OK? That's perfect.
They are coming. I can see some.

Oh, wow!

Penguins 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 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're 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.

Just come a little this way.
There we go.

I'm getting run over by penguins!

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.