All language subtitles for irland2

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

(FIRE CRACKLING)

In a small corner
of the Atlantic,

on Europe's farthest fringe,

are some of the most
spectacular islands on Earth.

Battered by storms,
and shrouded in mist,

are hidden worlds many believe
spawned the legends

of Hy-Brasil and Atlantis.

Magical kingdoms on
the very edge of the abyss...

.. where nature still runs free!

(ANIMALS ROARING)

My name is Eoin Warner
and I've spent my life

travelling the length of Ireland

in search of
its precious wild places

and the elusive animals
that make them their home.

(LIVELY TRADITIONAL
IRISH MUSIC PLAYING)

I'm almost half way down
Ireland's west coast

and with winter on the horizon,

I'm heading into one of
the most challenging stages

of this island adventure.

(MUSIC BUILDING)

(SEA ROARING)

(WAVES CRASHING)

My journey around Ireland's
north and west coast

has encountered a hitch.

It's mid-October
and massive seas

are not uncommon
in this part of the world.

But this is something else:

the tail end of a hurricane.

(WATER SPRAYING AND HISSING)

It's so humbling standing
at the very edge of this.

Feeling the energy
of the sea in your face.

(WATER SPRAYING)

It's a very unique experience.

Born in the Caribbean,

this storm has crossed six and
a half thousand kilometres

of open water.

And the first obstacles it meets

are the islands
off Ireland's west coast.

Just offshore,
they're tantalisingly close -

but in these conditions,
impossible to reach.

And yet when you see
these seabirds

almost static in the air

and I'm been blown asunder.

(GENTLE MELODY PLAYING ON HARP)

They're completely
at home in it,

calmly just taking it all in.

(GULLS CRYING)

It really feels like
the pulse of the Atlantic.

Every part of you, every inch
of you feels alive.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

I began my journey
on Rathlin Island,

off the far northeast corner
of Ireland,

and worked my way west

and then south down Ireland's
Atlantic seaboard.

Lying off a remote corner
of County Mayo,

the Inishkea islands are famed

for their wildlife and
isolation.

(BOAT ROCKING GENTLY)

It's hard to believe
that only a few days ago

that there was the tail end
of a hurricane

beating this coastline.
It just goes to show

how quickly
the sea can change here.

With the closing evening,
I'm looking forward

to getting ashore and spending
some time with these islands.

(BIRDS CALLING)

Inishkea means 'Goose Island'.

The name goes back
more than 800 years,

and though the humans
are long gone,

the geese still come calling.

(GEESE CALLING)

We've thousands
of barnacle geese

who are flying south
from Iceland,

escaping the cold.

Wintertime has arrived
on Inishkea Islands.

At their height
there were 350 people

living on these islands,
monoglot Irish speakers.

They were separated away from
the mainland.

They had their own
belief system,

their own dialect.

And on a day about
100 years ago in 1927

on the 28th of October,

a huge hurricane
hit this island.

10 of the islanders perished
while fishing for herring

and that's what really broke
the heart of the islanders.

And as a result of that,
they ended up

evacuating the island
and leaving the island

in the early thirties.

One of the striking things
that really happened

in these western islands

when they were evacuated
by people,

is that the islands fell silent

in terms of the human voice, but
they became completely alive.

Nature, slowly but surely,
just creeps its way back.

(GEESE SQUAWKING)

(BIRD CRYING)

Every November, the islands host
an invasion from the sea -

of the very first mammal
on the planet

to receive
official legal protection.

(SEALS GRUNTING, CALLING)

From far and wide,

Grey Seals descend
on the Inishkeas

to moult, mate and give birth.

(BABY SEALS CRYING)

It's just so cute
the way she just

reaches out and touches him.

Gives him a little scratch,

almost trying to help them
find an itch

that they can't reach
themselves.

Small moments of intimacy.

These are really special days
for these two seals.

I suppose the sobering
and quite sad thing

is that over half of these pups

won't make it
past their first year.

(SEAL CRYING)

Every day his Mum comes up and
feeds him really rich milk.

He'll put on nearly two and
a half kilos every day.

And these first few weeks
with mom

are so, so important
to build up his fat reserves,

to build up his blubber,

because he needs
the best start in life

to get out and survive in
the cold Atlantic.

The pup doesn't wanna see
mommy going back to sea.

She gave him one last scratch
to say, 'Don't worry.'

'I'll be back in a few hours.'

(GROANING, CRYING)

(LOUD WAILING)

It's really striking to see how
awkward they are on dry land,

but once they're in their own
element, once they're in water,

it is absolute poetry to watch
them move.

(SLOW, MAJESTIC MUSIC)

(SUDDEN SPLASHING)

(GRUNTING)

These weeks of short days
in the middle of winter time

are all about the passing on
of genetics.

As soon as these pups are born,

the bulls are looking to mate
again with the females.

(PLAYFUL MUSIC)

(GRUNTING)

It doesn't look pretty

but this is true love
in the Grey Seal world.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

(WAILING)

After a while,
there's a tenderness to it,

but at times you
don't know if they're fighting

or if they're actually mating.

Normally these guys are brought
into this world

on beaches or on stony coves.

But because there's no humans
on this island,

the cows don't feel
in any way in danger.

Then they're happy to come right
up on the shore to give birth.

And he's probably never seen -

well he has never seen
a human before.

I'm the first one and he gives
you those strange looks.

Those 360s.

Looking at you upside down,
from the side.

But these few weeks
are really formative weeks

for these pups.

(LOUD WAILING)

It's really important that
you give them their space.

But these young seals can't seem
to help themselves.

Their curiosity is just
so strong -

they wanna check you out.

(GRUNTING)

It's really tiring being
a young seal.

Sometimes you just need
to take a nap.

♪

(LOW WHINING)

These seals are probably over
three weeks old at this stage

and they're having great fun

discovering this new...

.. this new found activity
of swimming.

And I suppose for
the first time in their lives,

it all makes sense.

Watching these guys,
it really reminds me

of my own two boys
splashing and playing.

They seem to be having
so much fun.

(LOUD GRUNTING)

Youth is certainly
wasted on the young.

You only get that
when you're older.

As a species ourselves, we're so
lucky that we have this long,

protracted childhood,
to learn life skills

while our parents do all
the hard work for us.

Whereas these guys
only have a few short weeks

before they have to face
the open Atlantic

and hunt for themselves.

Grey Seals were once hunted
to the edge of extinction.

Today they're protected

and now Ireland and Britain

account for almost half of
a healthy global population.

So places like the Inishkeas

are critical sanctuaries for
animals caught up

in a rapidly changing world.

(LIVELY TUNE ON BODHRAN)

(GUITAR AND KEYBOARD JOIN)

Looming over the Inishkeas,

Achill Island is like a fortress

on Ireland's Atlantic coast -

its huge bulk dominating
the route south.

(SAIL CREAKING)

Just rounding the back
of Achill Island,

with its stunning cliffs,

it really feels
for the first time

that I'm starting to face south
on my journey.

And already the topography
looks different.

It's almost like coming
into another world,

like entering Mordor
or someplace like that.

Everything is so sharp
and edged,

cut by the wind and cut by
the sea over millennia.

And then you come around
the corner

and there in all its glory
is Croagh Patrick,

Ireland's holiest mountain.

Towering over Clew Bay,

Croagh Patrick
is steeped in legend.

As are the seas and islands
all around me.

On this journey,

one ancient story
resonates above all others -

about one of our most revered
wild animals.

(SQUAWKING)

The Children of Lir.

Lir was a sea God who had
four children he adored,

much to his second wife's
displeasure.

And so she cast a spell of
enchantment on the children,

turning them
into beautiful swans

and she banished them for
900 years to roam Ireland.

For the last 300 years
of their banishment,

Lir's children roamed
these islands and waters

off County Mayo.

And that story has echoed along
this coastline for millennia.

And the beautiful thing is,
that the swans still come.

As soon as there's a chill
in the autumn air,

chevrons of swans
are seen high in the sky,

coming from the Arctic,
escaping from the cold.

(SQUAWKING)

It's a story that connects
the past and the present

in a way that always moves me.

That over thousands of years,
the swans still come.

And hopefully they always will.

(SWANS CALLING)

♪

Like a giant beached whale,

Clare Island sits at
the entrance to Clew Bay,

shielding the inshore waters

from the worst
of the Atlantic storms.

1,600 people scraped
a living here

just before the Great Famine
of the mid 19th century.

(WAVES CRASHING)

Today just 160 people
live on Clare Island,

and most of it is boglands
and bare, bare mountain.

But Ireland's islands
once looked very different.

Many used to be extraordinary
wild worlds -

bristling with life and covered
in native forest.

Clues to this lost world
can still be found...

..if you know where to look!

♪

When these trees were alive,

wolves and bears roamed
a very different Ireland.

It's incredible really
to run your fingers

along these gnarled
skeletal remains

of these Scots Pine trees.

And these have been carbon
dated back to 7,500 years old,

exhumed by the islanders here
as they dug for turf

to heat their homes.

All of these trees were almost
in a tomb of peat,

almost like a black grave
with no oxygen, no light

that completely preserved them.

Every single part of this island

was covered in pine forest
right up to the very tip top

of Knockmore.

And that's exactly the scene
that the first farmers,

the first settlers arriving on
this island would've come across

- a thick forested place.

(SHEEP BLEATING)

The natural history of Ireland

is a history of deforestation
by us.

Our islands are becoming
wastelands -

shorn of anything wild.

In the last 50 years,

countless island farmers could
only survive by rearing sheep.

And too many sheep eat
mountains to the bone.

But in one secluded valley,

Clare Island hides
something truly remarkable.

Its existence feels miraculous,

perhaps the last echo of
original native woodland

on Ireland's western islands.

(BIRDS SINGING)

Down in this little valley,

the soundscape changes

the sound of the wind through
the leaves, the bird song,

it feels healthy,
it feels happier I suppose,

it feels the way it should be.

That lovely smell
of fresh new growth,

everything from the mainland,
from celandine,

bluebells...

.. and wood sorrel.

And you wouldn't expect

to have such a diversity of
flora on an island.

And all these are indicators
of an ancient woodland.

(BIRD SQUAWKING)

No one knows the full story of
this mysterious little forest.

♪

Most of these places,
nearly all of them are gone.

And yes, we need to farm.
Yes, we need to produce food.

We can do it in a better way.
We don't need to use

all the land. We need to leave
places like this for nature.

This is a really,
really special place

and it's a place
that has to be preserved,

because these woodland habitats

bring a whole range of different
species and richness

to the biodiversity
of these islands

that so many of the
islands are now missing.

♪

(BIRDS COOING, CHIRPING)

Very few land predators make
it to Ireland's islands.

But Clare Island is home to one

of the most mysterious
and ferocious...

(RUSTLING)

.. Ireland's smallest mammal
- the Pygmy Shrew.

Barely six centimetres long

and five grams in weight,

these tiny hunters
stalk the forest floor

and never rest.

They'll take on any little
prey that they can manage,

but sometimes the prey is too
big and they can't take it,

so for example,
even a large earwig

can fend off their attack.
They're that small.

And it's constantly
against the clock.

They have such a high metabolic
rate, they have to feed

every two hours
or they'll starve to death.

They really do live their life
on a knife's edge.

But how on earth did they get to
Clare Island?

The closest cousins of
Ireland's Pygmy Shrews

seem to be from northern Spain
and the Pyrenees.

Some of the first humans to sail
these waters may provide clues.

As the last Ice Age retreated -

it's thought that Stone Age
Spaniards migrated north,

eventually reaching Ireland.

With the glaciers gone, they
settled an untamed wilderness.

Like most Irish men today,

I carry Iberian genes from
those pioneering sailors.

A powerful thought
on my own voyage

through time and tide.

(STIRRING MUSIC)

For thousands of years,

Ireland's Atlantic waters
were famous

for mysterious islands
that would appear

out of the evening mists...

.. but no mortal soul
could reach them.

Legendary Hy Brasil -
an Irish Atlantis

which supposedly appeared
only once every 7 years.

And Tir na nOg -
the isle of eternal youth.

All were found out here on
the edge of the great ocean.

It's hard to resist
an enchanted island.

And 20 kilometres south is just
such a place - Inishbofin

- the island of the white cow.

Because of their isolation,

our islands were
the last great bastions

of some of our traditions,
like storytelling.

And one particular story that
I love about Inishbofin

is its originator story -
of how two fishermen

were lost in the fog
and they came across

this magical island
that was suspended.

And they came ashore
and they lit a fire.

And as soon
as they lit the fire,

it froze the island in position.
And with that,

they saw an old woman hunting
a white cow out of the lake,

out of this lake,
Lough Bó Finne.

And that's how Inis Bó Finne,

the island of the white cow
got its name.

Many animals are born and live
and die in one place,

but some have
this uncontrollable urge

to seek out far distant places.

And one of those animals

call the dark murky waters
of this lake their home...

.. the European Eel.

(LIVELY TRADITIONAL MUSIC)

They are so beautiful and
mysterious in their own way.

They have this amazing, just
amazingly complex life cycle

with so many stages -
from 4,000 miles away

in the Sargasso sea
all the way to the shores

of Inis Bó Finne.

The adult eels spawn
way off the coast of Florida

in deep, deep water.

Over the next few years,

the baby eels travel across
the entire Atlantic.

These eels literally float on
ocean currents.

Whether they
end up on the River Rhine

or whether they end up in
a little lake on Inishbofin,

it is just random,
a game of chance.

Once they hit freshwater,
they're called elvers

and are still just
a few centimetres long.

As a child,
we used to kick about

the rivers around West Cork
all summer long.

And every July,

when the temperature
reached a certain point,

the streams would literally turn
black with elvers -

this wriggling mass, as they
slowly slivered upriver.

(WATER GUSHING)

Their journey is one

of the greatest
animal migrations on earth.

What extraordinary instincts
in their tiny brains

drive these animals
to cross an ocean

and fight rocks
and rapids to get to a place

they have never been?

Those that do survive
then disappear

for 10, 20 even 30 years,

melting into the lakes
and rivers across the island.

And they spend years
slowly growing,

preparing themselves to go
for another migration.

(ROPE THUDDING)

The silver eels, when they leave
these shores to spawn,

they wait for the darkest and
wettest nights of winter

to make their secret escape back

4,000 miles to the Sargasso sea.

When they get there,
if they get there,

then they can breed.

It's just amazing to me,

that with all of our technology
and all of our science,

we still don't know for certain
what part of the Sargasso sea

these animals breed in.

And that, I suppose, is part
of the charm and the mystery

of these animals.

♪

(BIRD SQUAWKING)

'A savage beauty,
in every way magnificent',

wrote Oscar Wilde of the land
on my horizon...

..the ancient Gaelic territory
of Connemara.

And the homeland of my boat -
a Galway Hooker.

Halfway down
Ireland's west coast,

Connemara is a barren kingdom

of bog, rock and water.

And mountains.

Like a dark wall on the horizon,

the 12 Bens are always there,

always watching.

♪

Its turquoise waters,
powdery white sand beaches.

It is paradise.

Absolutely beautiful.

♪

You could be anywhere
in the world,

but we are in South Connemara
at Feenish Island.

(GENTLE, RELAXING MUSIC)

(WATER SPRAYING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

There's one sound that,
to my ear,

beats all others
at this time of year.

The skylark -

the sound of summer
on Ireland's west coast.

Though their song
is all around you,

they're almost
impossible to see.

For they are tiny birds
and rise high in the sky

before they pour
their hearts out.

But like so many
in this day and age,

skylarks are having
a terrible time.

The long grass and dunes
on these western shores

are in retreat because of
overgrazing and climate change.

And skylarks need that
long grass to hide their nests.

(RUSTLING)

Ground nests are
extremely vulnerable

and there's no shortage
of predators about.

Black Backed Gulls are always
looking for an easy meal.

(ROLLING CALL)

(CALLING CONTINUES)

Skylarks take
all kinds of precautions

to avoid giving their nest
locations away.

They fly all round to check
that the coast is clear.

And then land
away from the nests

before carefully creeping
the final stage.

♪

Most of the time the chicks
know that keeping quiet

is crucial for survival.

But when food arrives, they
throw caution to the wind.

(TRILLING)

♪

I know when I'm here
in Connemara

that I'm the best part
of halfway along my journey

on the coast, heading
home to West Cork.

But for this boat, Naomh Sinach,

this is her home,
Mweenish Island.

This is where she was built
in the 1880s.

It's 140 years of different
hands on this tiller.

It's lovely to have
the privilege

of sailing a boat like this
in an area like this,

because you feel a connection
down through the ages.

(IN IRISH) ♪ Nil falach I gcabhail
ar Shadhbh Ní Bhruinnealla ♪

♪ Ach seanchóitín donn
gan cabhail gan muinchille ♪

♪ Ora a Shadhbh,
a Shadhbh Ní Bhruinnealla ♪

♪ A chuisle is a stóirín,
éalaigh is imigh liom. ♪

♪ Máistir báid mhóir go
deo ní ghlacfaidh me ♪

♪ Nuair a fhaigheann
siad an chóir ♪

♪ 'Sé is doichi
nach bhfanann siad. ♪

♪ Ora a Shadhbh,
a Shadhbh Ní Bhruinnealla ♪

♪ A chuisle is a stóirín,
éalaigh is imigh liom. ♪

This song is about
a hooker captain

trying to entice a woman,
Sadhbh Ní Bhruinnealla,

to marry him.

We'll never know
if it worked or not.

This is Golam Head with
the Napoleonic watchtower.

You know you're leaving
Connemara

when you're leaving
Golam Head behind.

♪

Getting up in the morning time

to experience the sunrise is
always that bit of a challenge

when you're fond
of the bed like myself,

but it always pays off
in huge dividends.

There are times out here
you can feel...

..like you're
the only one around,

that you're the only one left
in the world. And then...

(SPLASHING)

.. a pod of dolphins comes
along and just wakes you up

and brings that huge
amount of energy.

♪

(ECHOEY THUDDING)

But in recent years,
a number of lone dolphins

have put Ireland
in the headlines.

Solitary individuals
who have set up home

along the west coast,

choosing to live
entirely on their own.

This is a lone female, Dusty,

named after the singer,
Dusty Springfield,

who had her ashes scattered
off the Clare coast

and this dolphin appeared
soon after.

For over two decades,

Dusty has haunted
the underwater world

off the Clare coast
and Aran Islands.

Highly sociable creatures,

it's very unusual for dolphins
to live solitary lives.

Maybe some personality quirk

means she doesn't need the
company of friends and family?

Whatever the reason,

Dusty brings a unique presence
to these clear Atlantic waters.

(ECHOING UNDERWATER NOISES)

(GULL SQUAWKING)

Ahead of me is probably
the most iconic

and world-famous
of the archipelagos

off the west coast of Ireland,
the Aran Islands.

These three islands are known
the world over,

not only for
their cultural heritage

but for their amazing barren
beauty.

There's something
really poignant

about coming to the Aran Islands
in a Galway Hooker,

because the Aran Islands were
part of the main trading route

for these Galway hookers

plying their trade between
Connemara

out to the Aran Islands,
bringing out turf,

because on these islands
there's nothing to burn.

There's no... there's no turf,
there's no bogs.

And so the Connemara people
would bring across turf

and the Aran Islanders
would sell wool,

poitín and fish
to the mainlanders.

(MID-TEMPO MUSIC WITH
SALSA FEEL)

The largest of the three
Aran Islands is Inis Mór -

home to one of the most
spectacular ancient monuments

in Europe.

Dún Aengus, Aengus's Fort,

a clifftop fort built over
3,000 years ago.

Facing the vast Atlantic
and the setting sun,

Dún Aengus really feels
like the fort

at the edge of the world.

The story of Aran is very
much the story of rock.

One of the most impressive
features of the islands

are these stone walls.

It's estimated to be over
1,000 miles of stone walls

between the three islands.

And every single wall
tells a story.

Each one of these stones
was placed by hand.

And I often think about
the people who built them,

the hours it took,
the conversations they had,

the thoughts, the musings,
the songs that were sung.

(LAMBS BLEATING)

When the first settlers
came here 6,000 years ago,

these islands were
completely wooded.

We slowly brought
agriculture with us

and we started
to cut down the trees.

And when the trees were gone,

you had these huge prevailing
winds from the Atlantic,

which swept and eroded a
lot of the soil.

And so all you were left with
is these sheets of limestone.

The island farmers
were left with two choices,

give up farming or work wonders.

And work wonders they did.

Over many centuries,
they set about creating

new fields of earth
with brand new soil.

Years and years and years
of hard labour of families,

of generations working together
to bring up seaweed after storms

and sand from the beach

to slowly but surely build up
an organic soil here.

And look at it now. It's just
the most amazing rich habitat.

♪

(BUZZING)

For such small islands,

the Aran Islands have
a huge diversity of plant life,

over 500 species. That's
over half the amount

of species that are found on
the mainland in Ireland,

which is really impressive
when there are no rivers here,

there's no woodlands,
there's no bogs.

And one of the things
that's really unique

about the diverse range
of plant life here,

is the Alpine and Arctic plants
often growing

hundreds of feet up in the Alps.

Here they grow at sea level,
side by side

with plants
from the Mediterranean,

often in the same crevice
or grike.

Because the farmers
are letting cattle in here,

at the end of the growing
season, they cut the grass down,

they munch it back,
allowing these little flowers

to get the sunlight.

So what we're seeing around us

is the most amazing
balancing act

between human agriculture
and nature.

The Aran Islands'
fractured moonscape

creates wonderful hideaways

for one of Ireland's most
unusual creatures.

A pioneer that somehow
made the crossing

from mainland Europe to Ireland

and then made the last jump
to the Aran Islands.

The Viviparous lizard.

The Viviparous lizard is
Ireland's only native reptile

and this female is carrying
a precious cargo.

Almost all other reptiles on
the planet lay eggs.

But that would be
a dangerous strategy

for a cold blooded creature in
this cold Atlantic kingdom.

These lizard mothers
give birth to live young -

and she looks completely
deflated after delivery.

(PERCUSSIVE MELODY)

The baby lizards
are now on their own -

their mother will have
nothing more to do with them.

Fully-formed mini-dinosaurs
ready to take on the world.

(WATER CRASHING)

From the Aran Islands,
it's a short hop

to one of the most iconic sites
on the west coast of Ireland.

♪

The Cliffs of Moher,

standing almost 700 feet tall.

They tower over
the Atlantic seaboard.

♪

One of the biggest things that
strikes you about these cliffs

is the layers of rock,
how it lays bare

the strata of history.

Exposing what it once was,
a huge river delta

in an ancient sea over
300 million years ago.

And that river delta
wasn't here,

it was 6,000 miles south
near the equator.

And over the interim of
those 300 million years,

through tectonic plate movement
- slowly moved, northwards,

pushing and rising
out of the sea.

The power of time.

(WATER GLUGGING)

Any of the free-diving
I've done before,

has always been off the shore

and the sea bed has
a very gradual decline.

You always feel close
to terra firma.

But when you get in the water
out here, it feels different -

like you're on the edge of
a whole new world.

And with 3,000 kilometres
of open Atlantic

starting right here,

you just never know what might
come in from deep water.

♪

(MUSIC BUILDS)

Basking sharks cruise
the west coast of Ireland

in spring and summer.

They usually appear
in ones and twos -

with their mouths wide open,
feeding on plankton.

But in the last seven years,

something extraordinary has
been discovered...

..this.

(MUSIC SOARING)

A huge gathering
of basking sharks,

only ever seen
a handful of times before.

Dozens and dozens
of these gentle giants

gathering for
a few days in late summer

off the coast of Clare.

This is the only place on Earth
where this is being seen -

the sharks appearing
in such large numbers,

forming beautiful
concentric circles.

♪

It's such a spectacular feeling

being that close to
a wild animal -

but not just any wild animal,
but an animal that size.

They are just gargantuan.
And when you're in the water

with them,
they fill your whole vision.

♪

Scientists studying
this remarkable gathering

have found what seems

like an equal number of
males and females.

They've likened it to a kind of
speed-dating event

for the basking shark world.

All indications are that this is
a critical breeding behaviour,

especially important,

when there are so few of these
giants left on the planet.

One estimate puts
their number in the Atlantic

as low as 10,000.

So the hundreds of sharks
at these gatherings

are a very significant chunk
of the global population.

(SOOTHING MUSIC)

There's a beautiful saying
in Irish -

'chomh sámh le liamhán gréine' -

as gentle as a basking shark.

And there's no doubt

that they are the gentle giants
of our waters.

To be in such close proximity
to them,

and that number displaying
that amazing behaviour

was just,
it's just mind blowing.

Absolutely mind blowing.

It's days like this
that you realise

what a rich and amazing place
the west coast of Ireland is.

♪