National Geographic: Arctic Kingdom - Life at the Edge (1995)

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Arctic Kingdom: Life At the Edge

In the far northern reaches

of planet Earth

lies an alien sea of ice

its waves frozen in time

in darkness, in uncompromising cold

It's winter on the Arctic Ocean

But a great power is returning to

conquer this frozen sea

The sun's rays touch the ice

and like a living thing

it responds

As the ice surrenders to

the rising sun

it becomes a world in motion

a shifting stage full of danger

and drama

Where creatures are trapped

between moving sheets

Stranded on the frozen waters

Caught in the struggle to live in one

of the harshest places on earth

And where the ice meets the open sea

the sun awakens a world of strange

and glorious life

This is the Arctic under the sun

a short

brilliant season of survival a miracle

and a resurrection at the edge

of the ice

After three months of

winter's hard darkness

the first light of spring spreads a glow

across the ice It's dawn in the Arctic

in the season of eternal sun

A lone predator st*lks the ice

in the early light

A polar bear is on the prowl

in different to the k*lling cold

Even in temperatures of fifty below

he doesn't hibernate

The bear is the supreme master

of winter on the ice

He can grow to seventeen hundred

pounds of hunting power

but his life depends on

just one creature

The ringed seal takes a quick breath

and returns to his world below

the ice

He, too, has endured all winter

just beneath the feet of his

mortal enemy

It's April. A female is also

on the ice

bringing her cubs out hunting

for the first time

They were born four long months ago

and since then, their mother's

had nothing to eat

Her sense of smell is so keen

that she can detect her prey

through several feet of snow

and half a mile away

She seeks out ridges

where drifting snow

covers the breathing hole of

a ringed seal

Inside this protective snow cap

a seal has dug al lair

She catches his scent

The seal rests but only sleeps

a few seconds at a time

its sharp hearing tuned to danger

A tense contest of the senses begins

Even the top predator on the ice

misses 19 times out of 20

And yet, the mother bear

will need to k*ll

at least two seals a week to keep

her cubs alive

The seal is safe for the moment

but each new trip to the surface

to breathe could end in another ambush

It's an oversized game of cat

and mouse

The bear eats mostly the blubber

licking bits of fat from the snow

A stealthy white shadow has been

following the bear

An Arctic fox

For days he has been tracking

the great hunter

crossing miles of ice in hopes

of leftovers from a k*ll

When hunting is good, the bear

leaves a feast behind

The fox finds a morsel and

buries it a precaution

against an unpredictable future

The sun now skims the horizon

and will not set again

for four months

Day by day

it begins to take control of the ice

in the seasonal tug of w*r

between darkness and light

But for nearly half the year

the far north is angled away

from the sun

and sleeps in the dark shadow

of winter

Left in the deep-freeze of space

the Arctic seas lie covered with

six million square miles of ice

As the year progresses

the planet swings around the sun

Light returns to the top

of the world

With 24-hour sunshine

the polar ice begins to retreat

By spring, the ice edge has receded

to a tangle of islands

in the high Canadian Arctic

and to the entrance of Lancaster Sound

An ice-breaker cuts the first breech

of the year

through six feet of solid ice

It brings goods to and from villages

and mining outposts 500 miles north

of the Arctic Circle

For the ship, the ice is an obstacle

For some, it is home

The Init have carved life from

this place for 4,000 years

The ice is their world

and spring promises a rich season

of hunting ahead

The ice itself has been guarding

a secret world

But now the crystal fortress

begins to crack

its walls pierced by light

In the shallows forty feet below

the sun reveals a garden of

unexpected color

Golden sea anemones...

bright orange starfish

and small crustaceans awaken

from a winter trance

Overhead, the skylight of ice glows

green with life

A vast pasture of algae now blooms

on its surface

spreading across the sea for

hundreds of miles

Countless young fish

and shrimp like creatures come

here to graze

These in turn become food for

staggering numbers of Arctic cod

Protected by the shield of ice

some half million tons of cod flourish

in Lancaster Sound

All this abundance is solar powered

As light floods the water, it sets

off an expl*si*n of life

Great stores of food can now

be reached

where the ice meets open water

It's May, and animals begin

to gather

for this annual feast of spring

Thick-billed murres fly in

from the North Atlantic to plunder

the cold waters for cod

They flock to Lancaster Sound

in the hundreds of thousands

Murres are uncertain aviators

Their true medium is water

Once beneath the waves

they're the Arctic version

of a penguin

With short

flipper like wings they dive

nearly 300 feet

for three minutes at a time

On the way back up

air trapped in their

feathers expands

They rocket to the surface

in a jet trail of bubbles

At the ice edge nearby

a polar bear scents

the shifting wind

As though navigating by satellite

he continues to hunt

across the same range

even as the ice turns into ocean

Beneath his fur

the white bear has jet black skin

to absorb heat

from the sun when he's on the surface

In the near freezing water

four inches of blubber keep

him warm and afloat

He's not above taking a bird or two

But the murres take no notice

and prepare to leave

for they have an urgent

appointment to keep

Timing is everything here

and the schedule is set

by the sun

The murres head for land

The short breeding season

has begun

and for those who come late

there'll be no second chance

Their destination is a lonely

outpost in Lancaster Sound

...the towering cliffs of Prince

Leopold Island

Half a million seabirds crowd onto

these rocky ledges

one thousand feet above the sea

The murres alone number

almost 200,000

Vicious fighting breaks out

as the murres battle

for the safest nest sites

They lay only a single egg

pear shaped to prevent

it from rolling off

the narrow rock shelf

The stronger, more aggressive birds

win sites midway down the cliff

leaving the weaker birds at the top

where they're most vulnerable

An Arctic fox has been stranded here

as the ice retreated from the island

His white winter fur has been replaced

by a sleek, brown coat

A castaway for the summer

he hunts alone on an island of birds

He heads for the cliffs the only

place to find food on the island

Faced with a dangerous thief

the birds abandon their eggs

And though they can lay another

a late season chick will not survive

The fox steals all the eggs

he can reach

but he'll need dozens each week

to stay alive

Some he stashes in the cold ground

There will be lean days ahead

It's June. A hundred miles

from the island

a fleet of white whales has arrived

at the ice edge

belugas hunting for cod

The sea is suddenly alive with sound

This chirping

white chorus emerges

from feeding grounds beneath

the frozen sea

like a gathering of polar ghosts

With no dorsal fin to impede

their icy travels

these are true Arctic whales

The belugas' rich symphony

of sounds hints

at the complexity of their lives

Their sonar may be the most

sophisticated of any whale

Navigating under miles of ice

they bounce clicks off shifting floes

using a kind of "sound imaging"

to master their world

Their melodies pulse from

their rounded foreheads

the frequencies fine tuned

like a focused beam of light

piercing the blue depths

The bonds between them are strong

A mother and calf will swim side

by side for three years

Shadowy gray at birth

they only gradually turn as perfectly

white as the surrounding ice

The sun is riding high now

Strong winds from the open sea

unleash their power against the ice

Beaten by wind and wave

weakened by sun and current

the ice fractures and begins

to split apart

Immense cracks open behind the

leading edge of the ice

These "leads" extend for miles

opening up new feeding areas

and hunting grounds

The Inuit are experts at navigating

the tricky ice fields of spring

It's a skill born of necessity

of the ancient

need to hunt on this

ever changing surface

Olyuk knows how to read the ice

Still

men and machines are sometimes lost

In the old days

entire hunting parties could

disappear without a trace

They are now sixty miles from home

They are hoping the trip will end

in a successful hunt

but it may take days

Not far away, one of the most

aggressive animals

in the Arctic hauls out to rest

adult walruses

heavily armored with tusks

and skin that is one inch thick

Their skulls are massive

and backed by a body weighing

one ton

they can bash through nine

inches of ice

Out of the water

their only enemies are polar bears

and human hunters

The walrus feed on vast beds of

clams buried 200 feet below

in the muddy sea floor

Each one can eat thousands of

clams in a single meal

And the mud harbors less obvious

but just as deadly predators

A carnivorous snail begins a slow

methodical attack

It smells the clam hiding in the mud

and tries to penetrate the tightly

closed shell

But the clam can defend itself

with a strong kick from

its single foot

Even stranger creatures patrol

the dark ooze

They thrive in the near freezing

waters of the Arctic feeding

on the remains of the dead

...and on each other

Overhead, the surface is warming up

Frozen salt water melts first

and from deep inside the ice

salty brine begins to drain away

Plumes of super cool

salty liquid spill downward out

of holes in the ice

freezing the waters just beneath

Hollow stalactites build up around

the draining brine

some reaching three feet in length

The waves continue to hammer

at the ice

and the edge gives way under

the relentless as*ault

Wind and strong currents push

ice floes together

Massive blocks pile up and

over each other

building miniature mountain ranges

In the wake of the shifting ice

giants come to fee

The bowhead whale is named

for its great curving jaw

A favorite target of whalers

it has never recovered from

two centuries of slaughter

Numbering only in the hundreds

bowheads in the eastern Arctic

make their last stand

Reaching 60 feet in length

it's the largest animal

in the Arctic seas

Yet the bowhead comes to

feed on the smallest

Energized by the touch of the sun

the depths now pulse with millions

of minute animals

They seem electrified

their transparent bodies glimmer

with iridescent light

More liquid than solid

these delicate drifters are

miracles of survival

wrapped in enchanting beauty

But to live here, they must also k*ll

A jelly trails its long tentacles

snaring a copepod

then reeling it in to its death

These tiny hunters float in a world

of their own

unaware of the leviathan that could

devour their entire universe

The bowhead sweeps through the water

like a living trawl net

Between the cavernous jaws

dark sheets called baleen filter

the water

collecting thousands of

small creatures

Its enormous white tongue will

scrape the baleen clean

harvesting the sea one giant

mouthful at a time

The sun is winning control of the ice

and the surface pools with melt water

Temperatures now reach a balmy

Dripping water measures the

fleeting season

the sound of summer ticking away

Fresh leads break into the

remaining ice

The Arctic's most intriguing creature

moves in from the sea

The narwhal - with its ivory tusk

a living tooth up to ten feet long

The whales converge along

the narrow highway

This is what Olyuk has been

looking for

Hunting is at the heart of

Inuit culture

a way of life and a skill still

passed down from father to son

It's a proud link to the past

and the only way to live off the

land in the Arctic

Today, the Inuit are still allowed

to hunt whales

but their take is strictly controlled

Yet Olyuk remembers the not

so distant days

when hunting meant the difference

between life and death

They have landed a female only males

have a tusk

Whale skin is especially nutritious

high in vitamin C

Without such a diet

the Inuit would have suffered

from the scurvy

which plagued many Arctic expeditions

Eaten raw, it's a delicacy

called "muktuk."

In the still twilight of midnight

the narwhals joust a slow

stately ritual of mythic beasts

The purpose of their strange single

tusk remains a mystery

Like the peacock's tail and

the lion's mane

it may serve as a banner of

male prowess

It could be a weapon

But it's the stuff of legend

In the Middle Ages

the tusks were sold as unicorn horns

for ten times their weight in gold

The sea ice is flooded now

although beneath the water

the ice is still several feet thick

Out on the melting surface

an abandoned ringed seal has

lost her bearings

She has wandered away from

her breathing hole

and cannot find her way back

Now, she is trapped above the ice an

easy target

for a hungry polar bear

And if she cannot return to

the sea beneath her

she will starve

The young seal is now exhausted

but luck finally leads her to a hole

in the ice

She is safe, but now she's in

unknown territory

a long way from her familiar network

of breathing holes

She won't stray far for a while

All around her the ice is changing

The pasture of algae

that once blanketed the surface has

sloughed off

and joined together in flowing

ribbons of green

Long tendrils reach out to

absorb light

and nutrients from the

passing currents

A new lead has opened in the ice

and a pod of narwhals comes

streaming into the crack

They usually travel in small numbers

but when fishing is good

hundreds may come together

As they enter the crack

these specialized hunters

take a risk

The opening unlocks a rich store

of Arctic cod

but the ice is still shifting

Without warning, the lead closes off

The whales are trapped

The entire pod must surface to breathe

in this small pool of open water

They bob up and down

in a crush of bodies

careful not to wound each other

with their tusks

If the hole closes over completely

the narwhals will have to make a

run for open water

if they don't find it

they will suffocate and die

Then suddenly, as unpredictably

a it closed

the lead reopens

and the whales are free

High off the cliffs of

Prince Leopold Island

fulmars and kittiwakes ride

the wild winds

Even gusts of 40 miles per hour

present no problem

for these aerial acrobats

Landing is the tricky part

There is new life in the murre colony

The adult birds are busy plying back

and forth to the sea

returning with cod for their young

The chick will need to triple

its weight over the next three weeks

and feeds round the clock

in the constant daylight

At the top of the cliff

glaucous gull chicks are hungry too

But gulls don't limit their

diet to fish

This one goes hunting closer to home

looking for an unprotected chick

It returns with a grisly catch

For the fox, these are hungry times

Egg laying is over and the chicks

have hatched out of his reach

He has only his store of buried eggs

to see him through

High summer finally reaches the Arctic

The last remnants of ice swirl near

the shores of Lancaster Sound

The frozen sea is broken at last

drifting in tattered pieces

on the current

Moving inshore are the gleaming

white shapes of belugas

They return by the hundreds to the

same inlets they frequent each year

Their smooth, white skin has turned

yellow and wrinkled

It's time to molt

On the rocky bottom of the shallows

the whales scrape off their old

weathered skin with a rejuvenating rub

Terns wheel overhead and dive

for bits of molted skin

As the tide turns, the whales retreat

into deeper water

But one young beluga has pushed too

far inshore

The benevolent sun now becomes

his greatest enemy

He could easily sunburn

and out of the cold water

he could overheat

The others can do nothing

The rocks have cut his sensitive skin

All he can do is wait for

the incoming tide

With one last surge

the young beluga recovers his freedom

It's only August, but autumn is closing

in on the murre colony

The chicks are just three weeks

old still unable to fly

Yet the time has come to leave

the island

Escorted by its father

a chick makes its way

through a gauntlet of hostile adults

still defending their ledges

Driven by irresistible instinct

the chick prepares to make an

incredible leap

from the thousand foot cliff

With its father close behind

he plummets to the waters below

For the next eight weeks they'll

drift southward

as the young murres grow the feathers

they need to finally take to the air

The fox is left alone

His stash of eggs is gone

and he may starve before he

can escape the island

The moon now looks down on Lancaster

Sound the cold

pale face of the coming winter

All across the Arctic, animals

are on the move

fleeing the coming freeze

The cold is returning to claim

these seas

The great bowheads depart

as their food supply begins to dwindle

in the fading light

Slowly, the surface begins to transform

crystals congeal into grease ice

then thicken into pancake ice

The season of the sun is over

Soon, winter and the white bear will

stalk the ice once more

Cold howls across the empty expanse

of frozen sea

Darkness deepens

The bear settles in to stay

and the Arctic turns once more toward

the dark night of space