01x01 - Sea of Serpents

[bunniefuu]

(BIRD CALLING)

♪

For most of European history,

Ireland was the very edge of
the world.

A remote green land
looking out into the abyss.

The great ocean
that stretched into eternity.

And off Ireland's north and west
coasts,

were the most
extreme places of all.

Rocky citadels that were
the very first

to face the Atlantic storms.

♪ (MUSIC SURGING)

Whoa!

These savage islands
were sought out

by a handful of humans
looking for God and refuge.

And by wild creatures
in search of shelter and food.

♪ (TRADITIONAL IRISH MUSIC)

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.

(SEAL CRYING)

(ANIMALS ROARING, CRYING)

But I've always
wanted to explore

the most remote places of all
and on this journey

I'll be sailing out
into the Atlantic -

to the hidden worlds
on Ireland's Wild Islands.

(BELLOWING)

(BIRDS CALLING)

(WATER GURGLING)

♪ (UP-TEMPO MUSIC)

Fair Head on a fair day.

Fair Head is a giant wedge
of volcanic rock,

on the coast of Northern Ireland

and about as far from home
as I can get on this island.

For I grew up in West Cork
on Ireland's southern tip

and this far north
is unknown country to me.

But I'm not travelling alone.

I'm travelling with a saint
- Naomh Sinach.

Naomh Sinach Mac Dara
is the patron saint

of seafarers in Connemara.

He has power over the wind
and on this little voyage,

I need all the help I can get.

Barely 25 kilometres
from Scotland,

this is where my journey begins.

From here I'll head west
into the setting sun,

exploring the wild islands off
Ireland's north coast

before turning due south and
down our Atlantic seaboard,

ending my trip
in more familiar territory,

the southern rocks and islands
of my home County Cork.

But that's a long way off yet.

The very first step
on my Atlantic journey

is Rathlin Island.

♪ (TRADITIONAL MUSIC)

Rathlin is the largest island
off Ireland's northern coast.

With over 40 shipwrecks
on the seabed round here,

It's no wonder it ended up with
not one,

but three lighthouses.

Away from the coast,

Rathlin has a sheltered,
gentle personality.

But head to the north side
of the island

and it's a very different story.

Up here you'll find
one of Ireland's

most spectacular wildlife
spectacles.

The sea stacks
and bird cliffs of Kebble.

(MID-TEMPO MUSIC ON FIDDLE)

(BIRDS SQUAWKING)

Rathlin Island is a beacon
for seabirds

from all over
the North Atlantic.

(LONG, DRAWN-OUT SQUAWK)

For there is one time
in the year,

when these open ocean
dwellers need dry land.

(CHORUS OF SQUAWKING)

(FURIOUS SQUAWKING)

There's over a quarter
of a million seabirds

nesting around Rathlin Island.

(BIRDS CALLING, SQUAWKING)

It's just... fizzing.

The place is fizzing
with energy.

Like... it's just magnificent.

What I've really come here
to see,

are the baby guillemots.

And one of the most
dangerous leaps of faith

undertaken by any animal
on the planet.

(WAVES CRASHING)

The first three weeks
of their lives

are spent on tiny ledges,

trying not to fall off.

(LOUD CAWING, SQUAWKING)

But then the day comes

when Mum's behaviour
suddenly changes.

She stops feeding her chick

and as it gets
hungrier and hungrier,

she tries to lure it
to the edge.

There's only one problem.

The chicks can't fly.

(MUSIC DARKENING)

These little ba*ls
of fat and fluff,

they're coming to the edge,
they're looking over it

nervously. And you can
see in their little faces

how vulnerable they feel,

how... how scared they are
to face that huge jump.

The chick's mother keeps
encouraging him to the edge.

(WAVES CRASHING)

It's over 100 metres
to the water.

From the waves below,

his father calls up
to reassure him.

(WAVES CRASHING)

Finally, the moment of truth.

♪ (MUSIC PLAYING)

♪ (MUSIC DARKENING)

But his troubles
aren't over yet.

After the biggest jump
of his life,

now he must now swim
for his life.

(WATER ROARING)

(SHRIEKING, CALLING)

♪ (MUSIC BUILDS AGAIN)

(BIRD CRYING)

(YELPING)

Many don't make it.

(SQUAWKING)

(SING-SONG CALLING)

(CHIRPING)

Others land among
the rocks below.

Unharmed but not out of danger.

Here,
they're extremely vulnerable

and are an easy meal
for the gulls.

From the water,
her father calls.

Desperate to make contact.

(INSISTENT CHIRPING)

She hears him and calls back.

♪ (HOPEFUL MUSIC ON BANJO)

(CHIRPING)

♪ (MUSIC PLAYING)

(WAVES CRASHING)

Finally she makes it
to the water.

That very tender moment,
it's just special

when you see them just going
off, facing into the open ocean.

Two little black dots on top
of the cresting waves.

♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYS ON BANJO)

Many chicks jump in the dark,

when there's less chance
of being attacked by gulls.

So the jumping continues

all through these short
summer nights.

(GENTLE CHIRPING)

But come late July,
the cliffs are falling quiet.

The last jumplings heading out

for their very first winter
at sea.

(WATER LAPPING)

Rathlin is believed to be

the very first Irish island
to be settled by humans,

with the earliest pioneers

crossing over from Scotland
8,000 years ago.

Rathlin was at the very heart

of the ancient Gaelic kingdom
of Dál Riada,

encompassing the coast of Antrim

and the west coast of Scotland.

And it's had
a really chequered history.

It's been a place of refuge

but also a place of m*ssacre.

It was here on Rathlin Island

that the Vikings
first attacked Ireland in 795.

And to add insult to injury,

they use it as a base then
to control the Irish Sea.

If these cliffs could speak.

(BIRDS CALLING)

I'm on the hunt
for a shape-shifter...

.. a witch in deep disguise.

Mists, caves and lakes
were gateways

to the Celtic underworld.

Through these portals,

female spirits could enter
our world,

and take the form
of this animal.

The Irish hare.

♪ (LIVELY MELODY ON FLUTE)

Ever since I've been a child,

I've loved that intimate moment
that you have with a hare

when you accidentally flush it
from its form, from its nest.

And then you reach down
and you can touch and feel

the shape of the hare.

You can feel their warmth.

♪ (MUSIC CONTINUES)

Superstitions apart,

it is something very special

to see these beautiful creatures
on an island, off an island,

off the far edge of Europe.

Birds can fly to Rathlin,

but creatures of the Earth
had to find another way.

♪ (MUSIC BUILDS TO STOP)

But maybe they're not
creatures of this Earth.

In Irish mythology,
witches turned into hares

so they could creep up on cows

and steal their milk and butter.

And shadowing the cows
in these fields,

is a very strange beast indeed.

The Golden Hare of Rathlin.

♪ (MAGICAL SOUNDING MELODY)

The very first Golden Hare was
seen here in the 1970s.

Some jumble of genetics
has given Rathlin

a truly unique animal

found nowhere else
on the planet.

And there's something so regal
and noble about any hare,

but to see a Golden Hare
standing on its back legs,

almost sizing you up

and those striking blue eyes
are just fantastic.

A blonde bombshell
of Rathlin Island.

And just for that moment
you have that connection

and then they're gone.

♪ (MUSIC QUIETENING)

(FLAPPING)

(ROPE KNOCKING ON BOAT)

During both world wars,

these northern waters
became critical shipping lanes

between America
and the Allies in Europe.

German U-boats
lurked everywhere.

Huge numbers of ships were lost

as torpedoes and bad weather
took their toll.

♪ (MYSTERIOUS MELODY ON PIANO)

The Lochgarry was
a troop transport ship

that sank in 1942

when she hit rocks off Rathlin.

23 lives were lost on that day.

Further west, HMS Audacious
lies more than 60 metres down.

She hit a German mine in 1914.

Her giant g*ns, now silent.

These wrecks are a magnet
for marine life.

Coal fish, Catshark and lobster
take every advantage

of the countless nooks and
crannies on offer.

In death, the ships bring
new life to these waters.

(WATER LAPPING)

Saying goodbye to
the northwestern end of Rathlin.

Saying goodbye
to the little jumplings.

I'm really happy to have
the first island under my belt

and to have the summer sun
in my face,

it's just a great,
it's a great start.

That's if the wind picks up
and I actually start to move.

So I can eventually leave
Rathlin Island behind me.

At the rate I'm going,
I'm probably gonna end up

in Scotland
rather than in Inishtrahull.

Inishtrahull is my next island

and lies just off the most
significant landmark

on this entire stretch of coast.

Malin Head - the northern tip
of mainland Ireland.

Legend has it that the waters
off Malin Head

would fill with
so many sea serpents

that you could walk over their
backs to the islands offshore.

In recent years there have been
curious sightings here,

suggesting there
could be some truth

behind this massing of monsters.

♪ (GENTLE MELODY PLAYING)

Once hunted
to the edge of oblivion,

some old friends have returned.

(MUFFLED SPLASH)

I've seen many strange
animals in my life,

but these giants have swum

straight out
of prehistoric times.

Basking sharks have hardly
changed in 35 million years,

so they must be doing
something right.

Basking sharks are the second
biggest fish on the planet.

And they survive on some
of the smallest life

in the ocean
- plankton -

sieving 2,000 tonnes
of water an hour

through their giant gills.

I've been trying to swim
with basking sharks for years,

and every year,
they've eluded me.

I've always been a day too late.

And it's unbelievable
when you see

how incredibly large they are.

In spring, they appear like
phantoms off the west coast

and then slowly work their way
northwards through the summer.

slow being the operative word.

But very occasionally,
for reasons unknown,

they get notions.

They head for the sky.

♪ (MUSIC BUILDS)

This breaching behaviour
is very rarely seen

and, like so much about them,
little understood.

♪

It was always thought

that basking sharks overwintered
out in the deep Atlantic.

But recent research
has cast new light

on their hidden lives.

Many spend the winter
just off Ireland,

but in black water down
a thousand metres or more.

Others head west to America,

or south to Africa and beyond.

Inishtrahull is coming up
on my port side

and with it has come the wind.

And along with it,
a decent swell,

so I'm kind of surfing
and sailing at the same time.

Woo, this is fun.

(CHUCKLING)

Oh my God. Woohoo.

Wahey!

The rocks that make up
Inishtrahull

are a third as old
as the planet itself.

1.6 billion years,

the oldest rocks in Ireland.

(BIRD CHIRPING)

On a day like today I couldn't
think of a nicer place to be,

but in the heart of winter,
the darkness, the wind,

the wildness,

it must have been
a raw rock to live on.

So the last island I was on,
Rathlin,

it's still got
that manicured feel

because people are living on it.

And funny,
when you're walking through

the little houses around here
and they're just crumbling away,

you can see that
as soon as people leave,

nature takes over and bit by bit

our mark on the landscape
just begins to fall away.

It just starts to feel wild.

Until 1929, up to 80 people
lived on Inishtrahull,

scraping an existence
through farming and fishing.

Today Inishtrahull is deserted.

(BIRDS CALLING)

Sometimes I think
we look for wild places,

but realistically there's
very few wild places left.

You know, the touch
of humans are everywhere

and I'm starting to think now
that it's not wild places,

it's people-less places,

places where
there are no humans.

That's what makes it different.

That's what gives us that
strange, I suppose wild magic.

(BIRD CALLS ECHOING)

(SPLASHING)

These are Eider ducks -

source of those most famous
of all feathers - Eider down.

Eiders are Arctic birds,

found all around the world
at northern latitudes.

I love their calls -

it's like they're constantly
surprised to see each other.

(COOING, EXCITED CALLING)

In spring,
the gaudy males display

for the attention of the ladies,

fighting rivals and
showing off their wares

to the far less
colourful females.

(LOW, FUNNY CALLING)

A fleeting affair,
and the job is done.

(BIRD SQUAWKING)

Because these islands are
uninhabited,

there's no ground mammals
like rats or foxes

to predate the eggs
and that's why they choose

these out of the way places.

♪

They have this really cosy
eider down

underneath
their breast feathers.

She plucks these feathers
from her breast

just to line her nest.

I think when any of us
think of being in a nest,

we think of something
that's really comfy and cosy,

but there's nothing
as cosy I'd say,

as being in
an eider duck's nest.

Literally these ducklings

have the bed of a king
underneath them.

Mother duck will sit on the eggs
for nearly a month

and won't feed
in that entire time.

She may leave briefly
to get a drink,

maybe once a week.

Otherwise she just sits tight,

minding her precious cargo.

Through thick and thin.

(WATER SPRAYING)

Like imagine sitting in
one place for nearly a month,

without eating.
That ultimate sacrifice

to hold back,
to give the next generation

the best chance of survival.
That to me is really beautiful.

(WAVES CRASHING)

Coming to this island
has been like a pilgrimage

but also a waiting game,

waiting to see
the ducklings when they hatch.

And for that
you just need patience.

And ever since
I've been a child,

that's one thing that nature
has taught me

and that is just patience.

(WAVES CRASHING)

At nighttime myself,

when I'm lying by the ocean,

it's the most beautiful lullaby.

And that's exactly the lullaby

that these eider ducklings
are listening to

as they develop
within the shell.

(ROARING AND CRASHING
OF THE OCEAN)

♪

This is a remote island,

but on the horizon is a reminder

that the surrounding waters
are a strategic highway

between east and west.

A huge nuclear submarine
from God knows where,

is heading out to sea.

(HARP PLAYING SYNCOPATED TUNE)

These little guys,
as soon as they hatch,

they're able to swim
and they're even able to dive.

That's no good to you
if you're sitting on dry rock

or on grassland, you need
to get down to the waves.

You need to get down
there as soon as possible.

♪ (MUSIC RESUMES)

The first day of
these little ducklings' lives

is their most challenging day.

And almost ironic when you think

that the safest place
for those ducklings

is in the crashing waves
down below.

(SQUAWKING)

When they're in the open, that's
when they're most vulnerable

to predators from the air,
to black-backed gulls.

(LOUD, ANGRY SQUAWK)

But to watch that
really careful procession

down through these rocks

to reach those crashing waves
is something to behold.

And I really hope she makes it
because she has put the time in.

(GULL CRYING)

♪

They tend to nest
in small, loose colonies,

and when all the ducklings
are hatched together,

they form
these little nurseries.

(COOING)

They're the cutest little sight
when you see them all together,

a whole raft of ducklings.

A little playschool
amongst the waves,

learning about life.

(GENTLE MELODY ON VIOLIN)

(OCEAN ROARING)

Such a lovely end
to my time in Inishtrahull

to watch the sun going down
over the Tór Rocks -

the most northerly part
of Ireland.

Ireland is a pretty small place,

barely 500 kilometres
top to bottom.

But it's remarkable
the difference

that 500 kilometres makes.

Up here feels almost
Arctic to me.

It's midsummer and
the sun both rises and sets

in open sea to the north.

There's just three
or four hours of darkness

and even then
it's not complete darkness.

Sail into the setting sun

and the next stop is Greenland.

At certain times of the year,

the night skies here
can come alive

with the northern lights.

♪ (LULLABY MUSIC)

A very different world
for a southern lad like me

a long way from home.

(WATER LAPPING GENTLY)

(BOAT ROCKING)

A whole pod of dolphins just
skipped right under the boat.

♪ (MELLOW MUSIC)

♪ (MUSIC CONTINUES)

♪ (MUSIC FADES)

This boat is a Galway hooker -

a classic traditional boat that
for hundreds of years

was used to transport goods
along Ireland's west coast

and out to the islands
off-shore.

She was built in the late 1800s.

140 years old
and doing very well

for such an old girl.

It's like sailing through
a picture.

And you rarely get days
like this,

where you've got sunlight,
the perfect wind...

It's consistent and it's even
blowing in the right direction

and I'm getting
a straight line into Tory.

Tory Island, the furthest of all
the inhabited islands

off the coast of Ireland.

♪

In ancient times,
Tory was a pirate's den,

ruled by a one-eyed God king
called Balor of the Evil Eye.

It was on this magnificent crag
- Tor Mór,

that he imprisoned
his only daughter Eithne,

for a Druid's prophecy foretold
that if she had a son,

he would k*ll Balor.

Today part of the headland
is still called "Dún Bhaloir" -

Balor's fort.

(BIRDS CRYING)

(SHARP-WHISTLE LIKE CALLS)

Walking down these laneways

and you're just bathed
in bird song.

Meadow pipits, skylarks,
red shanks, lapwings.

It's almost like a warm duvet
of sound around you

on a summer's day.

(DETERMINED TRILLING)

First settled 4,500 years ago,

today around 120 people
live on Tory.

While tourism is one of
the islanders' mainstays,

peak holiday season
is a while away yet.

But some important visitors
have arrived.

And their annual stay has made
Tory internationally famous.

They've flown from Africa

and will spend
the next four months on Tory

before heading south again
for the winter.

Elusive in the extreme...

.. you'll be lucky to catch
a glimpse.

But you will always hear them.

(CREAKING-LIKE CALL)

(CREAK-CREAK)

Once their calls echoed

the entire length of Ireland's
Atlantic seaboard.

But no more.

(CREAKING NOISE)

The Corncrake is now threatened
with extinction In Ireland.

Once, so many came here,
they were uncountable.

But like all of these
little local populations,

they're on an absolute
knife edge.

13 males made it this year...

to try and find a female

and ensure the survival
of their kind.

(CORNCRAKE CRYING)

Night and day this male calls
for a mate.

But have any made it
out of Africa alive?

His hard work finally pays off -

a female appears.

With an elaborate display,
and some choice gifts,

he tries to woo her.

So rare and elusive
are these birds here,

that as far as we know,
this is the first time

their mating behaviour has ever
been filmed on these islands.

♪ (MAJESTIC MUSIC)

Once mating has taken place,

the male moves on
to search for other partners,

while the female is left
to fend and nest for herself.

(DISTANT TRILL OF OTHER BIRDS)

(RUSTLING)

Mowing fields
with modern machinery

is one of the main reasons for
the Corncrake's downfall.

In past times,
the hand-cutting of meadows

later in the season
allowed the birds

ample time to nest
and rear their young.

And one thing we've really
learned from the Corncrake,

and particularly
in the initiatives

in trying to protect them -
is that agriculture and nature

don't have to be
mutually exclusive.

We just have to think of our
agriculture in a different way

and understand and believe
that this isn't our land,

that we're actually sharing
it with nature.

And I suppose
it's really important

that we can still hear
these birds because,

it reminds us of what we had
and what we can have again.

(CORNCRAKE CALLING)

(DISTANT BIRD SOUNDS)

(WATER LAPPING)

I'm just coming up
along the Donegal coast

and there's a whole
flock of Gannets

and they are just like daggers
spearheading into the ocean.

(SPLASH)

And it is spectacular,

the way they fold back
their wings

to make themselves
so aerodynamic

and then they just spearhead
into the water.

The perfect 10 out of 10
Olympic dive every single time.

(GANNETS CALLING)

(CALLING GATHERS PACE)

(SPLASH)

The place is just fizzing
with life and you can...

.. you can just sense it
in the air.

And then you just sail through
it and out the other end

and it's just calm,
deep blue again.

♪ (UP-TEMPO TECHNO MUSIC)

It's great to finally finish

the first leg of my journey

after coming along
the north coast

and in the top northwest
part of the country.

So heading south,

and getting closer to Cork and
closer to home all the time.

The one thing that is
instantly recognisable

when you get
to the north Mayo coastline

is that this is big country.

♪ (UP-TEMPO TRADITIONAL MUSIC
ON FIDDLE)

And it's made all
the more spectacular

when you have the full weight
of Achill Island laid out

across the sea before you.

And the most spectacular part

are the cliffs of Cruachán
mountain over 2,200 feet high.

The highest cliffs
in the country.

This is Mayo's best kept secret.

♪ (DESCENDING NOTES ON FLUTE)

Achill, the largest Irish island
of all.

A true Atlantic fortress.

Before the Great Famine
of the 1840s,

almost 5,000 people
lived on Achill.

Today barely half that number

lives in small settlements
and isolated houses

concentrated along the south
and east coasts of the island.

Most of Achill is farmland,

open bog and high mountains.

(GULL CRYING)

Achill may be magnificent,

but it's also bare.

The island was once covered
in native forest,

but over thousands of years,
that was completely cleared,

leaving the vast open hills and
bog lands we see today.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

But tiny pockets of deciduous
woodland still exist here -

planted by wealthy landowners
in the 1800s.

(BIRDSONG)

There's a real magical contrast

when you leave the windswept
landscape of the island

and you enter this other world.

It's great.

The lovely rolling notes
of wood pigeons

and the melodic calls
of blackbirds and wrens.

But then suddenly,
the atmosphere changes...

(CAWING)

.. and the songs become
alarm calls.

Those initial calls
to let everyone know

in the woodland
that the predator's nearby.

(TRILLING, CAWING)

And then she just appears,

bursts onto the scene,
this ball of energy.

But you only get
a glimpse because,

one thing about stoats is that
they're always on the move.

And every so often they'll stop
to get a better vantage point.

And the first thing
that you spot

are those beautiful alert eyes,

black shiny pools of mischief.

♪ (LIVELY, PUNKY TRADITIONAL
MUSIC)

This mother is collecting moss

to keep her kits warm somewhere
deep underground.

♪ (MUSIC RESUMES)

But they'll need more than
moss to keep them going.

I've been watching her now
for several hours

and every so often she returns
back with another prey item,

another sacrificial victim.

A wild Irish stoat like this

has to use every tool
in its toolbox.

They've somehow adapted to use

all the skills
that a hunter must have.

They can climb trees to steal
eggs and nestlings.

They can swim. The only thing
they can't really do is fly.

And even at that they can jump
huge distances.

And it's all the more poignant
when you think

how little woodland
like this we have left,

that these little pockets

where these animals have been
marginalised over centuries

are so, so important.

These guys have been pushed
to the very extremes to survive.

And these are the survivors.

They just need
a little help from us

and they'll do
the rest themselves.

♪

(DISTANT SOUND OF BREAKING
WAVES)

I think the Irish language
found itself in this landscape.

It evolved here in places
like this for millennia.

Like even this place, Keem Bay
is "An Choim" in Irish,

which is a hollow in a mountain,

which perfectly describes what
this natural amphitheatre is.

Keem Bay, often voted one
of the world's most beautiful.

But it's a bay with a dark side.

(BIRD CALLING)

For millennia, sharks have been
coming to this particular spot.

But humans took advantage
of this,

and this quiet,
serene looking bay

for decades became the scene

of the most successful basking
shark fishery in the world.

Over 9,000 basking sharks were
k*lled here over 15 years,

during the 1950s and 60s.

During the height of the basking
shark fishery here in Keem Bay,

there were 45 people employed
over three crews.

Each one of them had a hut
and they fished 24 hours a day,

right through the night.

(DRAMATIC, MOURNFUL MUSIC)

The focus of the crew was to
control the head,

to keep away from the tail

because that's where
the power was.

That's where the huge
trashing of a fish

that was 30 foot long,
4 tonnes in weight

could upend a boat in no time.

One old fisherman described how

once the eyes of the shark
rolled back

and turned white,
that the job was done.

(g*nsh*t)

The awful violent end
of an animal

that is so quiet, so serene,

and that knows no predators
in these waters - except man.

And after a few decades,

the population
completely collapsed

and the fishery disappeared.

The last one was
only k*lled here in 1984.

It's amazing how we as a species

have this sense
of a God-given right

to take from the environment
what we want.

And when we single out
one particular species

like the basking shark because
of its valuable oil to us,

that we can almost hunt them
to extinction.

Despite the fact

that for decades
these sharks were hunted,

they still come back
to this place.

Nature has this amazing way of
wiping the surface clean,

of cleaning itself
of that history.

The curve of the coastline,
the high cliffs,

whatever it is that draws
in the plankton in here,

every summer like clockwork,
the sharks return.

(GULLS CALLING)

♪ (MUSIC)