All language subtitles for irland3

(WATER GENTLY LAPPING)

(TRADITIONAL MUSIC PLAYING
ON FIDDLE)

(WAVES BREAKING)

Off Ireland's west coast,

lie some of the most remote
islands in Europe.

For Europeans, they were
the very edge of the world.

Impossible rocks, sought out
by a handful of humans

looking for God,
and wild creatures

in search of shelter and food.

Today, the humans
may be long gone,

their ancient churches
and homes deserted.

But nature has moved in.

(FLUTE PLAYING TRADITIONAL
MELODY)

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.

(GROANING)

(SPLASHING)

I'm now in the far south

and final stage of
my Atlantic adventures,

exploring the hidden worlds

that are Ireland's Wild Islands.

(MUSIC INTENSIFYING)

(BELLOWING)

(MUSIC FADES)

(WATER RUMBLING)

I'm heading south, always south,

the mountains of Kerry

and the Dingle Peninsula
on the horizon.

You have to be very careful
when you come

to this part of the world,
because you just fall

under a spell.

The people, the language,
the music,

the landscape, its beauty.

And for me I think,
the Dingle peninsula

and all of these islands,

they're like every part of
this country that I love,

distilled into one tiny,
little corner.

I'm into the third and final
stage of my island odyssey.

I began on Rathlin, off
Ireland's north-east coast,

and worked my way
west and south.

This final stage will bring me
around Kerry's magical islands

before hitting my home county,
Cork,

and the end of my adventure.

South of Clare,

the Dingle peninsula guards
the approaches to Kerry.

And the first islands you bump
into are The Maharees.

This is Illauntannig,

the island of Saint Seanach

and, sure enough,
Illauntannig is home

to an early Christian monastery,

said to have been founded
by the saint himself

in the 6th century.

Almost nothing else
is known about him,

but his monastery walls
still stand

after more than a thousand
years of Atlantic storms.

(MANDOLIN PLAYING)

Kerry's early Christian monks
were legendary seafarers

and it's somehow fitting that,
today,

these islands are
host to the greatest travellers

in the entire animal kingdom.

(CAWING)

Every spring,
Arctic and Common Terns

leave the Southern Hemisphere

and fly halfway round
the planet to rear their chicks

on the safe grounds
of the Maharees.

Closely related,
they're hard to tell apart.

Common terns have
black tipped beaks,

while those of their
Arctic cousins

are bright red right to the end.

Any of these Arctic terns
will travel

up to 70,000kms in one year.

Right down to the Antarctic
Peninsula and back again -

the longest migration
of any animal on earth.

Like that is just mind boggling.

(CAWING)

And they spend their lives
in this perpetual migration

between the Northern Hemisphere
and its summer

down to the Southern Hemisphere
and its summer.

All of that amazing journey
starts here,

on a little island off
the Maharees peninsula.

♪

Both species mate in
April and May

and the eggs are laid
in the days after.

(SQUEAKING CALL)

They're also very brave parents,

they're very defensive
of their chicks

and they have no problem
in harassing a much larger bird

if they get too close.

(TRILLING, CAWING)

This Oystercatcher seems to
be just looking for trouble.

But the chick's best
survival strategy

is to stay well hidden.

♪

And as soon as the parents
come back

with their sand eels in their
mouths,

they come rushing out
for a feed.

(CHIRPING)

♪

The reason these amazing birds
are here

is because of our long
summer days,

they need those days to gather
as much fish as possible

to feed their young,
to fledge them quickly

for that long,
incredible journey

back down to the Antarctic.

And that's the crazy thing
about these birds

and these huge migrations,
is that no one shows them

where to go or
why they should go there.

And they're
the mysteries in nature

that I don't think
we'll ever understand fully

why or how it happens.
And maybe that's better.

But it's no less amazing.

(LOUD CHIRPING)

So often, when you look
at the ocean

and that featureless surface,

it can seem so empty,
devoid of life.

But then that minor
miracle occurs.

Push your face
through that mirror

and a whole garden of Eden
is revealed.

The waters around the Maharees

are renowned
for their abundant life.

Like everywhere intensive
fishing has taken its toll.

But these backwaters
of Tralee Bay

are still home to some
very special creatures.

Remarkable survivors that
have changed very little

since dinosaurs ruled the earth.

(SLOSHING)

Stingrays.

At high tides near
the full moons of summer,

they come in from the deep
to breed,

cruising these shallow
waters in complete silence.

At the very base of the tail,

you can see the barb,
their defensive weapon,

and that's where
they get their name.

Their sting
is extremely painful,

but if you keep your
distance, there's little to fear

for these are
shy and gentle creatures.

And they're in danger.

Worldwide, their numbers are
plummeting from overfishing.

A sad story
for remarkable survivors

that have been around for
150 million years or more.

This place is so special,

to them and to so many other
ray and skate species.

They're here because Tralee Bay
is a sanctuary for them.

They're protected.
There's no tangle nets here.

Protection works,
legislation works,

people's action works.
And it's not about

the next generation
or the younger generation.

Each one of us is complicit

in the changes that are
happening,

each one of us
can make a difference.

(GURGLING)

♪

It's funny how, you know,
mountains are always measured

in feet above sea level,

but you really rarely
ever see one

coming up straight out
of the sea like this.

The whole immense size
of Mount Brandon.

Brandon's named after
St. Brendan the Navigator,

who set off to find
the New World to the west

from just round the corner
at Brandon's Creek.

(MUSIC BURSTING)

Today, Brendan is the patron
saint of the US Navy

and Christopher Columbus is said
to have consulted his voyages

before his own
trans-Atlantic adventures.

The ancient texts describe
Brendan reaching Arctic islands

of ice and fire
in the 6th century.

Some claim he was
the first European

to reach North America itself.

Early in the voyage,

Brendan stopped to rest
on a small island.

Lighting a fire,
he soon discovered

he wasn't on an island at all -

but the back of a giant beast.

(POWERFUL WHOOSHING)

♪

Today, some of the largest
whales on the planet

still visit these waters
off County Kerry.

The fin whale is
the second largest creature

to have ever lived.

(POWERFUL WHOOSHING)

Big whales like deep water,

and out here the seabed quickly
drops to 100 metres or more,

which is why these fin whales
can be seen so close to land.

One minute they dominate
the waves,

their loud blows jetting
8 metres into the air.

Seconds later they're gone,

the ocean empty and silent.

(GENTLE RIPPLING)

In my mid-teens, I was sent
to the Dingle Peninsula

to learn Irish by my mother.

It was my first time actually
seeing the Irish language

spoken as a community language -

spoken by old people,
by young people.

(MUSIC RISING)

I found an affinity
with the Irish language

when I came here that time,

and I always promised myself
that I would learn it properly,

someday.
So in my mid twenties,

I left my career and came down

and I spent a year in a cottage.

And I never thought at the time

how it would impact
the rest of my life.

But there I met my wife and...

And it's funny
how one year in your life

can change
the rest of your journey.

(MYSTICAL MELODY PLAYING
ON FLUTE)

Almost every day of that year,

I walked this coast

haunted by some brooding
characters just offshore.

Until 70 years ago,

the Blasket Islands were one
of the last true outposts

of an ancient Gaelic culture.

Home to a community
of native Irish speakers,

whose language and stories
were some of the last whispers

from a fast-fading world.

Those people are gone now,

and today
the Great Blasket Island

is home to one of Ireland's
greatest wildlife spectacles.

At first glance, it looks
almost like a pile of rocks.

Then the rock begins to move.

(LIVELY TRADITIONAL MUSIC
PLAYING)

There can be a thousand grey
seals hauled up on this beach.

It's like a scene
from Antarctica.

They spend up to two thirds of
their lives out in the ocean -

but twice a year they have
to come ashore,

to mate, give birth, and moult.

(FLAPPING) (GROWLING)

Grey seals have
two layers of fur,

which they must shed every
year...

a hugely uncomfortable business.

(SHUFFLING) (GROANING)

They're so itchy
and they just haven't got

the limbs to scratch what they
want to scratch.

You can see them
arching themselves,

just trying to find that one
patch that they can't reach.

and then they'll just resort

to rubbing themselves
in the sand again.

(SNORTING)

(GROANING)

You really see the conflict
happening

when the tide is filling,

because it's pushing
the individuals

further and further up the beach

and there's less and less
beach left there for them.

And you'll find in particular
the big beach masters,

the big males are constantly
snapping and snarling

at anything that comes
near them.

(SNARLING)

And come breeding season,

all hell breaks loose.

(WAILING)

(GRUNTING)

(ROARING)

(SNARLING)

(WAILING)

It's easy to forget that most
of these animals' lives

are spent in or under the water.

And it's that real torpedo shape

that gives them
huge manoeuvrability,

but also speed
and power under the water.

And any time I go freediving,

I try to emulate that
movement, try to mimic it,

but unfortunately,
I ain't no seal.

They don't just come here
from Kerry or Cork,

they come from northern France,

from the west coast of
Scotland, all to these places,

because this is one place,
where they feel safe.

And it's safe because there's
no humans living here anymore.

♪

Back in 1916, there were
176 people living on the island.

And you have to really respect
the people who lived here.

That was a really,
really hard graft.

They were completely isolated.

And ultimately,
that's the reason

that people left this island.

The vast majority
of the islanders,

they went to Springfield,
Massachusetts

in the United States.

You wonder how they would
see the island now today,

with their houses ruined

and the beach left to the seals.
They couldn't imagine

this number of seals here.

(BELLOWING)

And to think that these animals
were almost extinct,

a century ago. These were
the first animals

where there was
international legislation

brought in to conserve
their numbers in 1914.

Like this is just a national
treasure,

absolute national treasure.

(WAVES CRASHING)

Just a few kilometres west
of the Great Blasket,

is Inis Mhic Uileáin,

where just one family scraped
a living out of the Atlantic.

(JAUNTY TUNE PLAYING
ON MANDOLIN)

Every island I've been to
on this journey

has its own personality,
its own character.

And this island, Inis Mhic
Uileáin, is no different.

What's really special about it,

is that you're elevated
at all times,

which gives you
the most amazing vistas.

And being on a small island,

you're just surrounded
by the sea,

the constant sound of it.

You can taste
the salt in the wind.

(GULLS CALLING)

(FIRE CRACKLING)

The gulls are going to sleep,

the last call of the evening.

This is the most
westerly habitable island

where families were raised,
in Europe.

Spending a night here
on Inis Mhic Uileáin

is such a privilege because so
few people have ever lived here.

The last people,
the Ó Dálaigh's,

they left in 1903.

They raised 10 children
on this rock,

on the edge of the Atlantic.

One by one,
all of their children

left for the new world,
left for America.

This is splendid isolation,

and I feel so lucky
to be part of it.

(GENTLE MELODY RISING)

It's almost as if
the landscape is unreal,

it's so perfect, so perfect.

(BELLOWING)

(LENGTHY BELLOWING)

(BELLOWING CONTINUES)

The calls of Red Deer have
echoed across Ireland

since the Stone Age -
5,000 years ago.

These are some of
the last survivors

of the original bloodline.

Their numbers were decimated

from deforestation
and hunting by humans.

So much so that there was
only about 70 animals left

in the 1960s,
in Killarney National Park.

There was a big danger,
they would hybridise

with introduced sika deer.

And it was thought
a really inventive idea

to bring these animals out
to Inis Mhic Uileáin,

where there would be a pool
of their genetics here

to repopulate the mainland
if anything ever happened

to the Red Deer there

through hybridization
or disease.

Only 13 animals were brought
out here in the eighties.

And over that time,
they've flourished.

The stags this time of year
are the most regal looking.

They're at the peak
of their condition.

(BELLOWING)

This is the rut -

this is what separates
the men from the boys

as they compete for the females.

(SLOSHING)

Smell plays a vital part
in the process.

Wallowing in mud helps spread

the stag's masculine scent
all over his body.

(GRUNTING)

At the end of the day,
these animals don't want

to fight each other
because if they fight,

there's a chance that
they're gonna get injured

or lose a lot of energy.
So there's a lot of posturing

to see who is going to be
the king of the island.

(GRUNTING, BELLOWING)

But when they do clash,
it's serious.

(CLANGING)

♪

(TRIUMPHANT BELLOW)

It's the females, the hinds,
who pick their stags.

They're the ones
who are going to choose

who's going
to father their offspring.

They're looking for the stag

with the deepest bellow,
who can bellow the longest,

who has the finest
and largest set of antlers.

Only the strongest,
fittest males

will mate and carry on
their genetics

for the next generation.

(WAVES CRASHING)

(GULLS CALLING)

To watch what must be

one of Ireland's
most beautiful animals

in one of the most
spectacular settings...

..it is just magical.

The complete and utter wildness
of this corner of Ireland.

All you have to do is
just take one look

at this whole landscape,
how it's being cleaved

and carved by the sea.

And strangely enough,
this little corner

of the Dingle Peninsula

has probably the largest
concentration

of wild mammals
in the whole country.

(POWERFUL WHOOSHING)

(GULLS CALLING)

A playground
for some of the most

impressive animals on Earth.

After a century on the edge
of extinction,

humpback whales reappeared
in Irish waters in 1999.

Since then, Kerry
has become a hotspot

for these wonderful animals.

They come here
for the rich feeding.

(WHOOSHING)

(GULLS CRYING)

Bubble netting
is a favourite trick.

In a remarkable display

of co-operation and
intelligence,

humpbacks will blow
rings of bubbles

to trap the fish inside,

that then can then be scooped
up in giant mouthfuls.

(WHISTLING)

(GULLS CRYING)

(UNDERWATER CALM)

And what better way
to round off a fine feed

than a spot of pec-slapping.

♪

Is this play or
a message to a mate?

We may never know.

Always on the move,

humpbacks can travel
8,000 kilometres a year

up and down the Atlantic,

between rich fishing off Norway

and their breeding grounds
off Africa or the West Indies.

(PIANO PLAYING MELODY)

Since their reappearance
at the turn of the century,

over 100 different humpbacks

have been recorded passing
through these waters.

It is just wonderful
to see them back.

We are on
the very edge of Ireland.

And up ahead of us,

Sceilg Bheag and Sceilg Mhichíl.

(TINKLING MELODY ON PIANO)

"I tell you the thing doesn't
belong to any world,

you and I have ever
lived or worked in."

"It is part of our dream world."

George Bernard Shaw was right -

there is nowhere
quite like Skellig.

(HAUNTING VIOLIN MELODY PLAYING)

Two pinnacles of sandstone,

dropping sheer
into the Atlantic.

♪

When you come up on
Sceilg Bheag at a distance,

you see this white haze
around it.

And as you get close,
you realise

that white haze is thousands
and thousands of gannets.

(FURIOUS CALLING)

50,000 gannets

choosing this rock
to nest and breed

and bring on
the next generation.

(CAWING, SQUAWKING)

And they're such
a magnificent bird -

almost 6 foot across
in wingspan.

And the colouration,
the brightest of whites

blending into that beautiful
kind of mustard yellow

and those piercing blue eyes.

(GANNETS CALLING)

Sceilg Bheag
or "Little Skellig",

is one of the largest
gannet colonies in the world.

The birds spend the winter

roaming the entire Atlantic

until spring draws them back

to this cathedral in the ocean.

(COOING)

1,500 years ago,

a group of monks set sail
from mainland Ireland.

Their mission was
to build a monastery

on the very edge of the world.

On the most extreme place
in all of Christendom.

(GENTLE MELODY PLAYING
ON GUITAR)

They chose Skellig Michael.

♪

Over hundreds of years,

the monks built
their staircases to the sky.

It strikes you as you first
begin to climb the steps,

the amount of time that
was put into them -

from chiselling out
individual steps

into the bare rock,
to physically moving

every single stone, one by one.

(CAWING)

Over 600 steps lead up

to one of the most magical
ancient sites on Planet Earth.

♪

Skellig's early
Christian monastery.

The monks lived in these
dry stone cells

and had a number of tiny chapels

for ceremonies and prayer.

Most still intact

after more than a thousand years
on this isolated pinnacle.

And when the monks came here,

they gave complete
dedication of their lives.

Their life's work was to purify
themselves,

to ready themselves
for the next world.

For these monks,
they were looking to

build a monastery
in the clouds, in the sky,

as close as they possibly
could get to God.

Until very recently,
until 600 years ago,

we believed the world was flat

and this was the end
of the known world.

All you see is sky and sea.

But for them,
they had no knowledge

of what lay beyond that.
This was the frontier,

the very liminal part
of human civilisation.

(SEA ROARING IN DISTANCE)

You really get an appreciation
of how these monks lived.

And you can almost imagine
in dark, windy,

cold nights like this,

that lovely soft glow
of light...

.. seeping through
the cracks of the cells,

from an oil flame,

as the monks worked by night.

And things haven't changed
that much

in the last thousand years
when the monks were living here.

The same sounds of water,
and of wind.

(LOW GUTTERAL COOING)

And there's one other sound.

And as the night matures
and grows darker,

the sound gets stronger

and it's an unworldly sound.

I can only imagine
what the monks

must have thought
when they heard it first.

(PERSISTENT, RAPID BIRD CALLING)

Legend had it that the calls
were dead sailors,

returning to torment the living.

(CALLING HEIGHTENS)

But these are
the calls of a creature

that has travelled from
the Antarctic ocean and Brazil,

to rear their young
on Skellig Michael.

The Manx Shearwater.

Supreme flyers,

shearwaters
are hopeless on land.

And easy prey for
the giant gulls

that patrol the island by day.

So this male has picked
the very darkest night

to return to the nest.

Somewhere in the monastery,

his mate and chick are
patiently waiting for him.

They call to each other
in the darkness

to help guide him home.

(SING-SONG SQUAWKING)

(TRILLING CALL)

For days, even weeks,

they've been waiting
for him to return

with a belly full of fish
for the chick.

(LOUD SQUAWKING)

And she is just delighted
to see him.

♪

Shearwater's pair for life

and the parents' powerful bond,

brings them back year after year

to raise a single chick
on Skellig.

(SQUEAKING)

These are very
demanding youngsters,

requiring up to 70 days care

before they can survive
on their own.

(WHISTLING CALL)

It's now Dad's turn to babysit.

Mum is starving.

She must head to sea before
the gulls come hunting

in the first light of dawn.

Because of the lack of lights
out in these islands,

there's a depth of darkness

that you just don't get
in the mainland anymore.

And that depth of darkness
really reveals the night sky.

That's one thing
that we're really losing

with the rollout of strong
LED lights.

We're losing
the connection with the sky.

We're losing with connection...
with darkness in general.

(LULLABY-LIKE MUSIC)

When you're sailing

you tend to
feel the wind in the sails

before you actually feel
the wind on your face.

And you just get
that squeak of the ropes

as everything tightens.

And you are sailing...

.. and saying goodbye
to Sceilg Mhichíl.

(GANNETS CALLING)

I'm now heading

into a very familiar part
of the world.

My home county, Cork.

This is the closest part of
this country to my heart,

this is Bantry Bay.
This is where I grew up.

This bay was also where I grew
to love the natural world.

I remember the excitement
of anything new,

anything unusual,

from strange ducks
to stray dolphins.

But recently Bantry
has become home

to something
very special indeed.

♪

The largest aerial predator

to hunt in these skies
since the Ice Age.

White Tailed Eagles.

(SPLASHING)

For the last 100 years,
there were none,

they had been persecuted
to extinction.

But in recent decades,
a wonderful initiative

has brought
these magnificent birds

back to Irish skies.

Almost 150 chicks
were gifted by Norway,

and slowly but surely,
they're settling in.

Critical to their success
is breeding -

the new arrivals raising
families of their own.

Garnish Island is tucked away

at the head of Bantry Bay.

And here is a remarkable
symbol of hope -

a nest with some of
the first sea eagles

to be born in Ireland
in more than a century.

You can see the haze,
the heat haze

and there they sit and wait
for their parents to visit.

(SPLASHING)

And this male is the first bird

to sire Irish-born sea eagles

in this country
in over 100 years.

He was born in Ireland
and now he's siring

the next generation,
and that is really special.

But when you see
how well this has worked,

you begin to imagine
as to the other animals

that were wiped from
this stunning landscape

and how the skies
could look again,

how the woods could feel again

if we bring them back.

Bantry Bay is where
I became an adult,

and it's here I learned
how to sail.

My early childhood
we'd spend a lot of time

going to the various islands
within the bay

in my Dad's boat.

Dad was obsessed
with boats generally,

but above all
he loved these boats,

Galway Hookers.

My father worked
at sea for years,

and that's all
he ever wanted to do.

He was... half-married to it,
I guess.

When a new oil terminal was
built on the island ahead of me,

Dad got a job there
as a ship's pilot,

guiding the tankers in to
offload their oil at the jetty.

It was perfect.

He could spend his days at sea,

and still be home for dinner.

But one night,
everything changed.

Unfortunately, in 1979,

just off Whiddy Island
in front of me,

the Betelgeuse oil tanker
broke its back and exploded,

killing all 50 people on board,
including my father.

So many things went wrong that
shouldn't have gone wrong,

especially when you see
the old jetty,

twisted and rusted,
and half-melted

from the heat of
what happened that night.

And it was an awful way...

.. to lose your life,
between drowning and fire.

(GENTLE MELODY ON GUITAR)

The scar both physically and
emotionally is still there.

(EMOTIONAL) And even now,
sailing towards it...

(COMPOSED)
It's not easy.

(FEMALE VOICE SINGING
IRISH MELODY)

♪ Faoiseamh a gheobhadsa

♪ Seal beag gairid

♪ I measc mo dhaoine

When your father dies
at such a young age,

you're robbed of so much.

Like, I would've loved for him
to have shown me

how to sail a boat like this.

♪ Maidin is trathnona

♪ O Luan go Satharn

But you know, when someone goes,

I believe that part of them
lives on through you

and certainly for myself
and my brothers,

the love of the sea -

being on it, sailing on it,

swimming and diving
underneath the surface of it,

it is so strong in us all.

(SINGING RESUMES)

♪ Faoiseamh a gheobhadsa

♪ Seal beag gairid

♪ I measc mo dhaoine

♪ O chra chroi

♪ O bhfuar d'aigne

♪ O uaigneas duairc

Fastnet Rock,

the southernmost point
of Ireland

with a beautiful lighthouse
sitting on top.

Its name in Irish
is very descriptive -

it's Carraig Aonair,
the Lone Rock.

And it carries
a huge significance

to a lot of the emigrants
that left these shores

in the 19th century,
fleeing the Famine.

Because this was
the last sight they saw

before hitting the New World.

These Atlantic stretches
off County Cork

feel the most exposed
of all Irish waters to me.

Due west and
the first stop is Canada,

due south, Africa.

Year round,

the Gulf Stream brings warm
water from the Caribbean,

blessing Ireland
with mild winters

and buckets of rain.

(SPLASHING)

The Gulf Stream
also brings life.

(TINKLING PIANO MUSIC)

One of the most beautiful
fish in the sea.

It's like all of
the ocean's colours

have been distilled
into one animal.

Blue shark are among

the greatest ocean wanderers.

Found all over the planet,

they follow their prey,
herring, mackerel and squid,

wherever it takes them.

Apex predators, at the top
of the food chain,

they are curious creatures
and show no fear.

I wish they were more fearful.

For they are the most heavily
fished sharks on the planet,

hunted for their meat
and the insane demand

for shark fin soup.

Fate and an ocean current

brought them to these seas
off County Cork.

A journey not unlike my own.

Both of us in search of
a rich, clean ocean,

where the creatures
of the wild still swim free.

(ATMOSPHERIC MUSIC BUILDING)

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

This journey, I've been looking
forward to for so long,

and now I know because
I'm rounding the Fastnet,

that it's coming to an end.

From the northernmost point
of this island

up in Inishtrahull,

down to the Fastnet,
the southernmost point.

But like any journey, it's more
than going from A to B.

(MUSIC BURSTS)

On this journey, I was
hoping to find places

where Ireland's
wild creatures still flourish.

(SQUAWKING)

To find echoes of our once
wonderful wild world.

I feel elated, tired...

.. so privileged to have been
able to see what I've seen.

This journey has been about
getting a small glimpse

into the lives of the animals
that make

the most extreme edge
of this island their home.

Remarkable creatures

who have survived centuries
of hunting and harassment,

but still cling to life in
the vast sea of uncertainty,

that we humans have created.

Long may they live,

out here on
the edge of the world -

on Ireland's Wild Islands.