The South Pacific.
The name is familiar,
but 230 years after Captain Cook's epic voyages,
this vast ocean remains little known.
In the endless blue,
isolated islands harbour life that's rarely seen.
And these are some of the most pristine waters of any ocean.
The turquoise seas
and picture-postcard islands look like heaven on Earth.
But all is not what it seems.
The South Pacific also has an unforgiving nature.
Islands born from volcanic seas
erupt with unique and extreme ways of life.
People succeeded here against the odds.
The South Pacific is a tale of the unexpected...
...a forgotten world where isolation has created the bizarre and surprising.
This is the story of life in an ocean of islands.
Out of the blue, a giant emerges from the deep.
Right now, the monster moves silently,
but it's equipped with an awesome force.
Some of the largest waves in the world break on South Pacific islands.
Their birth sums up the scale of this ocean.
The storm swell that made these waves
has travelled 3,000 miles to reach this shallow reef.
These distances proved a great challenge for animal castaways,
but when they found new land, many evolved into new species.
Human colonisers followed similar routes,
and the ocean that isolated them from the rest of the world
became central to their culture.
The big waves were an inspiration,
and riding them has been a tradition here for more than 1, 500 years.
No other ocean has had a greater impact
on the lives of so many different animals and cultures than the South Pacific,
and it's all down to its massive size.
The whole Pacific Ocean is so large,
you could fit the world's continents inside it
with nearly enough room for another Africa.
Ten thousand miles wide, less than one per cent is land.
Best known are the Hawaiian islands.
They sit 1, 500 miles north of the equator,
but their story was shaped by the south.
The South Pacific is made up of thousands of islands
united by cultures and bound together by ocean currents.
Most of the land sits in warm waters,
but travel south and the character of the islands change.
New Zealand is not tropical but temperate.
The ocean currents which cool New Zealand's waters
occasionally bring icebergs.
Starting in the Antarctic, they've drifted for nearly eight months...
...on the way, passing the most southerly outpost in the South Pacific.
Where New Zealand's temperate seas merge
with the icy waters of the Southern Ocean, lies a solitary piece of land...
85 miles of wave-lashed coastline.
It looks desolate, but it's not deserted.
At certain times of year, there's more life here
than on any other island in the Pacific.
In August, after months at sea, elephant seals arrive.
They depend on this island for breeding.
Macquarie will soon be heaving with 60,000 elephant seals,
but they won't have the beaches to themselves.
One month later, another wave of migrants appear in the surf.
These are royal penguins,
and they're about to have their first sighting of land in seven months.
They've spent that time hunting for fish and shrimp in the open ocean.
One last hurdle and they're back on terra firma.
This island is actually the only solid ground
these penguins will ever set foot on.
Macquarie's nearest neighbour is more than 400 miles away,
and in the opposite direction from their favourite feeding grounds.
Within days of the first arrivals, it's standing room only.
Nobody knows exactly how these penguins navigate back to Macquarie,
but with this many adults returning every year to breed, it clearly works.
Out in the open ocean, royal penguins lead solitary lives,
so these cramped conditions take a bit of getting used to.
Disputes settled, it's time to renew old acquaintances.
The elephant seals have also settled down...
even if some still play hard to get.
Though it's not easy turning down the advances
of a suitor six times your size.
A gentle nuzzle, and she appears won over.
And it's not just love that's in the air.
At these southerly latitudes,
ocean winds bring rain six-and-a-half days out of seven.
And when it doesn't rain...
it snows.
It couldn't be more different from the clichéd image of a South Pacific island.
But surprisingly, what makes Macquarie so rich in wildlife
also benefits other islands in the tropical South Pacific,
thousands of miles away.
Macquarie's penguins and seals depend on
a cold, nutrient-rich current... and that doesn't stop here.
Powered by the strongest winds in the world, the current continues east
until it hits the tip of South America, where it's driven northwards.
Over 8,000 miles later, the cold current reaches the equator
and a remote archipelago...
The water has warmed up on the journey north,
but it's still cold and nutrient-rich.
This has allowed some animals to live here which you wouldn't normally find
this close to the equator.
Sea lions.
Isolated on the Galápagos, they've been here so long
they've become a separate species.
When the surf's up,
the sea lions spend hours just messing around in the waves.
Surfing burns a lot of energy, and they can only do it
because these cold seas support vast numbers of fish.
The sea lions share these nutrient-rich waters
with another equatorial misfit.
Penguins -
the only penguins found in the tropics.
Like the sea lions, Galápagos penguins can survive here
because the water keeps them cool and well fed.
But these conditions are not constant.
In EI Niño years, when currents reverse, warm waters replace cold,
fish populations crash
and then, stuck on Galápagos, penguins and sea lions starve.
Their numbers will bounce back,
but it's the price these animals pay for life on these isolated islands.
There are thousands of islands in the South Pacific.
Many are unbelievably remote.
Some are thousands of miles away from the nearest continent
and hundreds of miles from their nearest neighbour.
Imagine each island as a castle,
and the ocean a giant moat stretching to the horizon in every direction,
and you have captured the essence of their isolation.
It's a wonder how any life reached these islands at all.
But no matter how remote or small an island is,
animals have somehow conquered the massive ocean barrier
to reach these specks of land.
For the lucky few that made it,
South Pacific islands provided great opportunities.
Once here, they had the freedom to be different.
Crabs may not seem unusual,
but there's one kind here that's like no other.
On this little island in Vanuatu lives a real oddity.
It's the largest terrestrial invertebrate on Earth...
...the robber crab.
The biggest can weigh up to four kilograms -
the same as a newborn baby -
and have a leg span of one metre.
It's a hermit crab on steroids.
At night, the huge "robbers" really come alive.
Although these crabs are found throughout the Pacific,
it's only on undisturbed islands that you can see them in such numbers.
Exactly why robber crabs have grown so big is a mystery,
but with so few creatures making it to these remote islands,
the giant crustaceans
seem to have filled a niche normally taken by medium-sized mammals.
And with almost no competition from other native animals,
the crabs' huge size allows them to make the most of another great coloniser -
something found here in abundance.
Coconuts are one of their favourite foods -
it's why they're also called "coconut crabs" -
and they've been known to carry them as far as three miles to a favourite den.
Robber crabs are perhaps the only animals in the world able to break into a coconut.
The husk is ripped off by powerful pincers.
Other legs drill through the germinating holes on the seed itself
until the nut finally cracks.
The whole process can take several hours,
but the reward is a meal rich in protein.
Robber crabs may rule the land, but they're no masters of the sea.
An adult crab would drown in a few minutes, which raises the question -
how did these monsters get to so many of the South Pacific's most isolated islands?
This female carries the answer -
thousands of eggs, which will soon be left to the mercy of the ocean currents.
A few shakes of her tail are all that's needed to send them on their way.
The eggs will hatch immediately.
Then the larvae will have just 50 days to find a new home above the water.
For animal castaways,
finding new land in this vast ocean was a chance in a million.
To beat the odds, luck was needed,
sometimes coming from an unlikely source.
Cyclones.
Each year, these powerful, tropical storms form over the huge ocean.
The largest can span more than 600 miles.
Cyclones are one of the most destructive forces in the South Pacific.
Yet surprisingly, they have played a critical role
in spreading life to the loneliest islands.
And few islands are more remote than these.
Two thousand miles from the nearest continent,
Hawaii is the world's most isolated archipelago.
It's so far-flung,
that less than 500 kinds of animal settled here in 30 million years.
Remarkably, many of these colonisers
were carried to Hawaii on the back of cyclones.
For an animal to be sucked up by storm winds, carried across the ocean
and dumped here alive was a matter of extraordinary luck.
Yet that's what happened to the ancestor of this insect.
It's a kind of fruit fly...
but no ordinary one.
Hawaii's fruit flies are the birds of paradise of the insect world.
They attract females with elaborate courtship rituals
and have a sophisticated range of territorial behaviour.
Male hammerhead flies use their heads as battering rams.
A male clavisetae fruit fly fans sex pheromones from his raised abdomen.
His extended tongue is an added attraction.
Since that first coloniser,
they have evolved into nearly 1,000 species,
many with their own unique behaviour.
When it comes to choosing a mate, females are very fussy.
One wrong move by her suitor and she's off.
Hawaii's isolation has had a curious effect
on the evolution of some of its other wildlife, too.
Crawling around these ferns are caterpillars.
They're the larvae of a moth and look ordinary enough.
But these tiny caterpillars are perhaps the strangest of their kind in the world.
When one finds the right spot, it settles down to chew through a leaf.
So far, so normal.
But the caterpillar is not actually swallowing the bits of leaf.
It's channelling a gap between the segments.
When finished, it'II tuck itself into the space.
So what is so strange about this animal?
Well, those are not your typical caterpillar feet,
and what follows is not your typical caterpillar behaviour.
This is a carnivorous caterpillar...
...with a vice-like hold and a bite to match.
Hawaii's numerous fruit flies were just too good an opportunity to ignore.
And the stick-like camouflage of another kind of meat-eating caterpillar
is just as effective when ambushing prey.
Nobody knows what set Hawaii's carnivorous caterpillars on this extraordinary path,
but it's the sort of quirky evolution that's common on isolated islands.
Each South Pacific island has its own unique set of creatures.
With so many islands, this adds up to thousands of animals
found nowhere else on Earth.
Isolated by miles of ocean,
human colonisers also developed different ways of life.
Each culture has its own customs, and some are truly bizarre.
The locals are in celebratory mood.
This man is about to perform one of the strangest rituals in the world.
It's a tradition that tests the mettle of the most courageous men.
Having a head for heights is only the start.
Forest vines are tied around his ankles.
They will be his lifeline.
For centuries, Pentecost men have been leaping head first
from wooden scaffolds with only forest vines to break their fall...
...a tradition that inspired modern bungee jumping.
The jumps may look like acts of madness,
but the festival's origins have a serious side.
They celebrate the annual harvest of their staple crop.
And with up to nine cyclones pounding the South Pacific a year,
a successful harvest is worth celebrating.
The close calls with Mother Earth are not miscalculations.
The diver's hair is actually meant to brush the ground
in a symbolic act of fertilisation.
And it's believed the closer the jumper gets to the ground,
the taller the crops will grow the next year.
Human history across most of the South Pacific
dates back less than 2,000 years.
By comparison, animal colonisers first arrived on these shores
over 30 million years ago.
Yet by the 12th century,
people had colonised almost every habitable piece of land.
Surrounded by water, the ocean became embedded in their culture -
sometimes in surprising ways.
In the Banks Islands, women use the sea to make music.
And their songs celebrate the creatures that live in it.
No matter where people settled in the South Pacific,
their survival depended on
a deep understanding of the ocean and its wildlife.
And one ocean event has featured in the Pacific islanders' calendar
since they first arrived here.
It happens on just one night a year, in November.
Armed with torches and homemade nets,
these islanders prepare for a harvest.
They gather in the reef shallows,
watching and waiting for what will soon be a flurry of activity.
As the moon rises,
it triggers a natural phenomenon and a very strange spectacle...
...the rising of worms -
palolo worms.
These are actually the worms' rear ends - their reproductive segments.
The part with the head remains in the coral rock.
When they reach the surface, eggs and sperm will mix.
The tide washes the wriggling worms into the shallows
where they are scooped up by the bucketful.
The whole event lasts just a couple of hours, but in that time,
hundreds of kilos can be gathered.
Rich in proteins and fats,
palolo worms are the caviar of the South Pacific.
This may be a short-lived feast,
but living in the South Pacific means making the most of anything going.
Every year, in June, tiger sharks appear
in the shallow waters around this scattering of tiny, sandy islands.
They've travelled hundreds of miles in anticipation of an event
that lasts less than two weeks.
And their timing is impeccable.
Albatross chicks are sitting ducks.
The sharks may have lost the element of surprise,
but their high visibility will make little difference
to the albatross chicks' behaviour.
Right now, the focus is on flying.
For fledging albatross, that's not as simple as you'd think.
The problem is the island's runway is a bit short,
especially for a bird with one of the world's longest wingspans.
The maiden flight often ends in a wet landing.
And that's why the sharks are here.
With their highly acute senses,
they're onto the chicks within a few moments of touchdown.
During two weeks of fledging,
over 100 albatross chicks make the same fatal error...
and the sharks take full advantage.
In an ocean where food can be surprisingly scarce,
this annual feast is something these sharks depend on.
The size of many South Pacific islands means that food is often limited.
The smaller and more isolated they are, the harder it is to survive.
And in this ocean of islands, there's one tiny island that stands out.
It's home to perhaps the most remote community of people on the planet,
with a truly inspiring story.
These men are from the island of Anuta.
This fishing technique is unique to their island
and essential when the weather is too rough for their boats.
Octopus tentacles are used as bait.
And it's very effective.
Once a shoal has been found, dozens of fish can be caught in this way.
The struggling fish are killed with a quick bite to the head.
Anutans have more fishing techniques than almost anywhere else in the Pacific -
a vital skill, given the size of their island.
And this is it.
Just one-sixth of a square mile in area.
Anuta is so small that no matter where you are
the sound of the waves is ever present.
Life on Anuta has changed little
since these people's ancestors arrived here nearly 400 years ago.
Many Anutans still spend their entire lives on this remote speck of land.
Anuta's isolation has meant that the 300 people who live here
have had to become completely self-sufficient.
Almost every square metre of the island is cultivated to grow staple crops
like taro or breadfruit.
Some food will be stored in the ground - an insurance policy against cyclones.
With few trees on the island,
their wooden outrigger canoes are treasured items.
Some have been in continuous use for nearly 150 years.
Without them, these people would struggle to survive here,
since it's the sea that Anutans look to for many of their needs.
The men have a plan for whichever direction the wind takes them.
They know the location of every one of their reefs,
lining up landmarks on the island to gauge their exact position.
It makes fishing trips very productive.
Anuta's isolation has shaped their society.
Too far away to trade with other islands,
they have a strong community spirit.
Everything is shared and all work together for the common good.
It's the secret of their success.
Anuta has one of the highest population densities on Earth -
equal to that of Bangladesh - yet on their tiny speck of land,
these people have always lived completely within their resources.
It's a remarkable achievement,
and not one that is shared by all who have made a home in the South Pacific.
Lost in the vastness of this ocean
is an island with a legendary tale of over-exploitation.
This was once the most inaccessible island in the world.
When the first people arrived here 1,000 years ago,
Easter Island was a paradise
thought to be richer in wildlife than even the Galápagos.
Back then, its hills were cloaked with a forest of giant palms.
It was also home to one of the largest seabird colonies in the South Pacific.
Initially, life must have been easy for the Easter Islanders, the Rapa Nui.
And with time on their hands, they set to work
carving huge stone statues known as moai.
Before long, each clan was trying
to carve larger, grander figures than those of their neighbours...
...competition that was to be their undoing.
Vast quantities of wood were used to transport the stone statues,
and slowly but surely, the Rapa Nui used up their island's precious resources.
Eventually, their civilisation descended into chaos and warfare.
Clan fought against clan, with disastrous consequences.
By the time of their ultimate collapse, the Rapa Nui
had changed their island beyond recognition.
These are the hills where the giant palm forest once stood.
And these are the cliffs that once rang to the sound of those huge seabird colonies,
all hunted to extinction by the Rapa Nui.
Today, the giant stone statues
are a poignant reminder of the precarious nature of life on remote islands.
All South Pacific islanders must make the most
of whatever resources they have...
...and the Anutans are no exception.
They harvest the wildlife that also depends on this little piece of land.
Each hunter uses his own preferred call.
The noise will lure their quarry closer to their nets.
Noddy terns.
They've spent the day fishing out at sea,
so it's only when they return to roost at night they can be caught.
It would be easy for the Anutans to over-harvest the noddy terns -
even exterminate the colony.
But that's not the Anutan way.
Their approach ensures a future for the next generation to enjoy.
Life has always been precarious in the South Pacific,
but with the right balance, both people and animals
will continue to thrive in this great ocean of islands.
Some of the biggest waves in the world break on South Pacific islands.
One of the aims of this series
was to capture the awesome power of these natural forces from underwater.
So the team headed to Pohnpei in the Caroline Islands...
...well known for big, barrelling waves.
On board was top surf cameraman Bali Strickland.
Often you're like, "If I'd been one metre that way, the shot would've been perfect."
So to actually get the perfect position is pretty hard.
But Bali was used to a camera housing this size, so how was he going to manage
with one this big?
German camera technician Rudi Diesel
had only finished building this housing one day before the shoot.
Inside was a camera that could film in super slow motion and high definition.
Until now, no-one had ever tried using one underwater.
About to take a $100,000-plus camera into the water.
Don't see much in the monitor.
Unfortunately, the camera turned out to be...
well, camera shy.
- Oh, boy! - The anticipation was there.
There was huge expectation.
When you're breaking new ground, you have to be prepared for swings and roundabouts.
You have to be patient sometimes.
And there was another problem.
The waves were tiny - more Cornwall than Carolines.
The team had brought along world-class surfer Dylan Longbottom
to give some scale to the waves, but it was having the opposite effect.
When you look at the size of the waves, it's hard to imagine that in a single day,
if the conditions were right, the wave would break way over your head
with this perfect barrel.
But there's no sign of it at the moment.
Next day, Rudi felt sure his custom-built housing was now up and running.
OK, switch it on...
Yes, it works!
The words I like to hear most often on a shoot - "Yes, it's working."
The words I don't like to hear very often, Rudi,
are, "No, it's not working. I think it's broken."
But all was well with the housing
and, finally, it was ready to make a splash.
Bali and Dylan paddled out to the surf zone.
The waves were still small,
but the hard, jagged reef beneath Bali's feet
was a constant reminder of the dangers here.
And even in small waves,
getting into position with the large housing was going to be a challenge.
Bali lined up for his first shot...
...capturing the action at 20 times slower than normal speed.
An interesting shot, but not what the team were after.
So why were there no big waves?
There's no land between here and Kamchatka, 3,000 miles away.
And the waves that arrive here start off around Japan or the east coast of Russia.
And when a storm hits these places, it whips up the sea, generating swell.
It's rather like throwing a pebble into a pool.
The ripples radiate outwards
which, when they reach land, make waves.
So if the size of these waves was anything to go by,
Japan and Russia were having some unusually mild winter weather.
And that was more than you could say for Pohnpei.
And there were still no big waves.
The only good news was that the housing was still working
and remained watertight, despite being soundly tested
both below and above the water.
And then, when the team thought things couldn't get any worse...
If conditions got any calmer here, we'd probably have small boys
out sailing their toy boats out on this millpond!
I mean, we came for 12ft barrelling waves and we've got a sort of gentle riffle
at the moment.
Time to check the swell charts.
There was better news on the Russian front -
a big storm sending swell Pohnpei's way.
At the end of the shoot, the waves arrived -
the biggest the team had seen so far.
The big surf proved even more of a challenge for Bali.
And there was still the sharp reef to avoid.
Bali's final shots had promise,
but these waves were still much smaller than the team had hoped for.
Having seen the potential of Rudi's camera underwater,
I just know I've got to get it back out
on one of these locations and use it in a big barrel,
because the results will be incredibly surprising and totally unique.
Four months later, with news of a large swell coming from Russia,
the team were back in Pohnpei.
This time, the waves looked big, even with surfers in them.
And expert surfer Dylan couldn't wait to get out there.
Well, we've turned up and we've seen a couple of absolutely monster barrels.
So we've got what we came for.
And, um...I'm pretty nervous,
because I'm about to swim that huge torpedo camera back out there...
...and it's dangerous-looking!
The big waves had brought surfers from all over the world,
but this was definitely a day for the professionals.
Bali was going to have to use all his surf experience
to get the shots without risking his safety.
Positioning was going to be everything.
This really is a dangerous sport.
Superficially, it looks a bit like skiing down the face of a mountain.
The difference here is that the mountain is actually chasing YOU
and wanting to gobble you up as you go along.
Oh!
This is what we came for.
Bali got into position for his first shot of the day -
a ten-foot barrel wave.
Capturing a shot like this leaves little margin for error, as Bali discovered.
I tried to hold on as long as I could
and it sucked me over the falls afterwards.
This thing is so heavy, I was in the foam, inside, trying to get up.
My right leg cramped and I couldn't get up for ages.
I was just lucky there wasn't really much behind it,
or I'd still be in there trying to get out. Phew!
For the next shots, Bali's position in the waves was right on the money.
Using the slow-motion camera underwater had paid off,
here, for the first time, revealing the vortices created by huge waves.
Then the shot that crowned a perfect day.
I shot it. I wasn't sure how good it was.
I've watched it back and I've still got shivers in my spine,
because it's probably the best shot I've ever got in the water, without a doubt.
And here it is.
Big-wave surfer Dylan Longbottom
in a 12ft, monster barrel wave
filmed in super slow motion -
the first shots of their kind ever recorded.
And this time, Bali's exit from the wave was perfect.