Breathtakingly beautiful.
Yet brutal. Over the generations, the people
who live here have learned how to survive in this
inhospitable landscape. We travel through the Arctic. From Svalbard to Eastern Siberia. We want to learn how people’s
lives are changing in this remote part of the world. Cruising through the Arctic
Ocean at 20 knots an hour. We’re aboard the Sapphire
Princess, one of the big cruise ships now touring the Arctic with
increasing frequency. An Arctic adventure has never been easier or
more comfortable — provided you’re willing to share the experience with
many others. Just before 7 a.m. we cross into the Arctic
Circle — and see its rugged nature without
being exposed to it. As adventures go it’s “Arctic light”.
Though that’ll soon change. Why did you get up so
early in the morning? To go to the gym. Aah, you’re coming from the gym! Yeah, but I didn’t realize
it was gonna look like this. And it’s fantastic! You know, it’s inspirational. It
really helps you to get closer to nature. And that’s a good thing.
If people thought more about that they wouldn’t be tossing
their garbage around and driving big SUVs. My wife wants to see
the Northern Lights. I hope she won‘t
be disappointed. Does that mean you’ll
stay up all night? I won’t. She can! The Arctic landscape is harsh and
forbidding. Yet it’s one of the most fragile ecosystems on the planet. The weather in the far North is
temperamental. The ship with its 18 decks starts to rock
from side to side. The swimming pool is
transformed into a wave pool. Below deck they’re still cooking up
a storm. Due to the rough weather we’ve lost our appetites. But we still
meet with Stephen Reynolds, who shows us around his domain. With a twinkle in his eye, he says a
few guests will likely leave the ship heavier than when they boarded it. One: We need to make it look
like our presentation. Yes? You’ve got a bit of the potato left. That’s good. OK. Happy with that? Arctic cuisine's not what
the passengers want. In general, the British market that
we’ve just been in, they still want to come for their roast beef and
Yorkshire pudding. They want their fried egg and bacon. The Danzls like to travel in style.
We meet the couple from Tyrol for an aperitif. They have
taken cruises for years- This is their 23rd. Does it bother
them that this kind of holiday is increasingly viewed as
environmentally unfriendly? Life is a compromise. On the one
hand, you want to see places. On the other there are
environmental problems.. But this makes the region more
popular, so people see how it’s changing. It’s important the
region become better known, but that’s only possible if lots
of people can visit it. The cruise ship industry is enticing
people to come to the Arctic while it’s still intact. Its ships are
bringing guests to ever more remote locations. To ensure that this
booming business doesn’t fall victim to environmental misgivings,
companies are trying to go green. On board, trash is separated for
recycling. And some ships are now running on liquefied
petroleum gas instead of heavy crude oil or
marine diesel fuel. Travelling through these icy waters
poses particular dangers, Captain Paolo Ravera tells us. So he and
his crew have gone through special navigational training. Full of water navigation. Icy water.
We appear yet not to have a lot of drifting ice, but there are
places where there is drifting ice. So we have to be careful,
because ice is like rocks that float. A small iceberg or
growlers can actually damage the propellers. And if we go into
quite a high concentration of ice with the ship itself, we can
actually damage the hull. Unless it’s a ship which is built for icy
water, which this is not. This is for normal icy conditions, but
not very thick and dense. This evening we catch a glimpse
of one of the Arctic’s most fleeting attractions:
the Northern Lights. The Aurora Borealis once inspired
belief in the supernatural. Now it’s something tourists film
and post on social media. We leave the ship’s
warm comfort zone. From Alta we continue on to
the Svalbard archipelago. In summer, huge cruise ships come,
carrying thousands of passengers. In the off-season, smaller ships dock
here not far from the North Pole It’s no longer just well-equipped
explorers who are venturing this close to the North Pole. The number of tourists has
doubled over the last decade. Each year 70-thousand visitors
descend on Longyearbyen, a town of some 2-thousand residents. For
the locals, tourism has become a reliable source of revenue now
that mining is in decline. Still, it has its challenges. Svalbard’s search and rescue team say
the number of distress calls has increased — along with
people’s expectations. We accompany the air rescue
team on a training mission. Wearing a protective suit is
mandatory. Should we fall into the icy cold water, it would keep
us from getting hypothermia — at least for a few minutes. Snorre Hagen is in charge
of the two Puma helicopters stationed on Svalbard. Each of them can transport as
many as 20 people in an emergency Svalbard is an Arctic desert,
yet it’s growing ever wetter. There’s more rain and less snow. We’ve been here for quite a few
years and it’s noticeable that all the glaciers are getting smaller
and retreating. The temperature on Svalbard is increasing
quite a lot on average. The captain of this expedition
vessel has agreed to take part in the rescue exercise. As has
our cameraman, who’s now being lowered on a rope. The ship’s crew also takes part
in the exercise. They know the importance of such
maneuvers in an emergency. After a little refreshment,
it’s back to work. If a ship gets in trouble,
Snorre’s crew rescues the passengers one by
one — by helicopter. Once they’ve all been evacuated,
there’s still another problem to deal with. A shipwreck full of
diesel, stranded in an extremely fragile ecosystem. To give guests an unforgettable
experience, Snorre says some captains take big risks in this
dangerous region. The rescuers must cover vast distances. He finds
these cruise ships most problematic. The thing is that we should
always be able to help, but it might take a lot longer time than
we want to. So it’s all a matter of?.It’s a bit harsh to say, but
it’s a matter of getting the rescue done before people die. So if we
start to say, yeah, we’re going to rescue a ship with 7-thousand people
on board, it might take a week. People here say that tourism needs to
be steered in the right direction, to ensure that Svalbard’s
spectacular nature is protected. And that all visitors
return home safely. Norway has sovereignty over
Svalbard, but the archipelago is a visa-free zone. Russia has an Arctic
outpost here, in Barentsburg. To reach it, we must take a boat. There’s not a single road
leading to Barentsburg. This sign in Cyrillic is a
reminder of bygone times: ‘Our goal?communism’. The Soviet
spirit where geopolitics has long spoken another language. Valeriy comes from Eastern
Ukraine, a region plagued by divisions and a war backed
by pro-Russian forces. He works on Svalbard for a
state-owned Russian coal company. My wife stayed at home. I’m here
alone. There aren’t any jobs for women here. They can’t
earn much money here. Mining coal is hardly profitable
anymore. But prospectors are drawn by other natural resources. It’s believed there are huge oil- and
gas reserves off Svalbard’s coasts. Norway and Russia disagree
on who they belong to. Russia’s Consul General on
Svalbard serves us tea. Sergey Gushchin says his country has a
good, neighborly relationship with NATO member Norway. Such
conciliatory tones are rare in Russian diplomacy these days.
Gushchin says the Arctic climate is too harsh for conflicts.
Though the friendship proves short-lived
when it comes to oil: Do you have any idea what
huge profits that would generate? In the billions.
Everything here will turn to gold — if the Russian
interpretation is applied. That’s why we haven’t been able to
come to an agreement with the Norwegians about this. Once an oil
or gas field is found here, the legal disputes will certainly start. A few nautical miles away, in the
Barents Sea, Russia stages military maneuvers. That fuels worries
here that worse things than legal action could happen— even if on the
hillside they invoke ‘world peace’. To find out what happens to a
remote northern town when fossil fuel deposits are found just offshore,
we pay a visit to Hammerfest. In winter, Norway’s north is plunged
into darkness for two long months. So for a long time, people
were leaving in droves. But then along came ‘Snow White’ —
that’s what they call the natural gas field off the coast
from Hammerfest. Since 2007, Snow White has been a
fairytale dream come true for the town’s finances. And
the high wages paid have attracted many
skilled workers. This is a good morning for Anna.
Her little daughter Ava doesn’t make a fuss when she’s dropped
off at daycare. Afterwards, Anna heads straight to the office. Her
partner is currently working offshore, as always in
two-week long stints. Sometimes you have a meeting
that you can’t miss and then you really have a challenge. Balancing motherhood with a career
at Equinor, Norway’s state- owned energy company is no easy feat.
For Anna it’s not just a question of time, but of ideology,
too. She drives a hybrid car, avoids plastic and recycles her waste.
Protecting the environment is important to her, as it is to most
Norwegians. Yet she works for a company that makes its money
from extracting fossil fuels. The 21-year-old assures us
there’s no contradiction there. At this plant, Equinor liquefies
natural gas and puts it into tanks. It also operates a pilot project. The firm separates the CO2 from
the natural gas and pumps it back into the ocean floor. This process
reduces the amount of harmful greenhouse gases making their way
into the Earth’s atmosphere. Norway cites such projects as proof
of its green credentials. Yet it continues to award exploration
drilling licenses in the Arctic Ocean, and its finances count on
petrodollars. Environmental activists call that hypocritical. Anna considers their criticism
unfounded. Yet she’s used to having to justify working
for the industry. People might think that you would
be a hypocrite if you think about the climate crisis and
things, and still work in the industry. But I think that my
company is a place where we grow better fossil energy. Banning Norway’s profitable fossil
fuel extraction wouldn’t change anything, Anna says. Customers would
just buy their gas elsewhere. And that wouldn’t benefit
the climate at all. Her mother has always
supported her choice. She has always been a tough girl.
She was early pointing out: “I want to work in that company.
This is my dream.” Norwegians are serious about
protecting the environment. However, they’re unwilling to give
up selling oil and gas any time soon, because that’s what’s made
Norway into one of the richest countries worldwide.. We continue our journey
eastwards — from Hammerfest to Bovanenkovo, on the Yamal
Peninsula. In the language of the indigenous
Nenets people, ‘Yamal’ means “the end of the world”. But now the
peninsula is the site of one of Russia’s largest economic projects. We’re just in time to witness them
tapping a new gas source. Russian energy giant Gazprom has
developed the Bovanenkovo gas field in record time. Sergey Silantyev won Gazprom’s
Best Welder title in 2015. He’s accustomed to metal,
fire and heat. But here he must deal with
other elements, too. “Wind and frost. Sometimes it’s
minus 15 degrees Celsius. In those temperatures you try not to work
outside. But sometimes there’s an accident and you have to go out and
work — whether you want to or not” Gazprom has created a small town
for 3-thousand workers, in this secluded part of Siberia. We were
only allowed to visit Bovanenkovo after receiving special permission
from the state-owned Russian company. It took weeks of emails
and phone calls to get it. The workers are made to feel like
heroes. They’re serving their country’s aim to make
the Arctic lucrative. But Sergey tells us the main
reason they’re all here: On average workers in northern
Siberia earn roughly double the amount compared to the rest of Russia. Here they work for 30 days straight,
then they have 30 days off. Sergey’s family lives a day’s
journey away from Bovanenkovo. Sometimes it’s hard, especially
at the end of your stint. Your morale sinks and the monotony
gets to you. But you pay a price for everything in this life.
So this is quite OK. The warming of the Arctic is a boon
for Russia’s economic ambitions The section of the Northeast
Passage along Russia’s coast is now ice-free more often, making
it easier to export Siberian gas. Goods coming from China by boat
can also reach Europe quicker. And Russia plans to
profit from this. The Port of Sabetta is
pivotal to this strategy. But that doesn’t leave much room for
these nomadic reindeer herders. In the shadow of the drilling rigs,
they fear the loss of their homeland. We’re visiting the Vanuito family.
They belong to the indigenous people known as the Nenets. They’ve
lived here for centuries and are perfectly adapted to the
inhospitable conditions in the Arctic. But now these nomadic people must
contend with industrial sites, train tracks and streets. Drilling
is underway for oil and gas on the Nenets’ grazing land, endangering
their traditions and culture. You call this a fridge, I call it
a ‘parya’. It stands on legs like this, so we can stack meat, fish
and so forth up there. Then they stay fresh for a long time. The gas companies now have a
Nenets commissioner, who acts as a mediator between heavy industry
and the indigenous people. It’s good PR. Hello, nice to see you. Is she yours?
How many do you have? Sometimes the companies donate
firewood or a generator to the Nenets. Though Grigoriy tells us
this hardly compensates for what they’ve lost due to
industrial expansion. It‘s not good. Why? Shouldn’t they help? They should help. But we’ve
surrendered so much of our land to the gas workers.
There’s no longer enough grazing land — not
here nor in the south. A source of food, clothing and
transportation: reindeer are everything to the Nenets. The
Vanuitos have 200 of them. But times are changing. The winters
are getting warmer. And the animals are growing thin, as they
have a hard time finding food. Without snow it’s harder to keep
the reindeer together. They go off in all directions. And
groups break off from the herd. The Vanuitos will soon set off to
their winter grazing lands — like every year. But their route will
be different?. determined more and more by the economic interests
of the distant capital. We continue on our Arctic adventure.
From Sabetta we travel to the settlement of Chersky, in
the middle of the Arctic summer. In the tundra, it can reach
40 degrees Celsius in the summertime. Yet, with every
step we take it gets cooler. And it smells of fish. Because,
despite its beauty, this serves as a freezer for the local people. In sub-zero temperatures, the
remains of plants and dead animals from past eras
don’t decompose. The permafrost functions like an icy
safe, keeping its store of carbon locked up. Double the amount of
carbon dioxide contained in the entire Earth’s
atmosphere. It’s a ticking, climatic time bomb. Sergey Zimov thinks he knows
how to keep it from going off. But first, the Russian scientist
wants to show us the problem. He takes us for a ride on the
Kolyma river, which is frozen over for most of year. We hit a sandbank and are stuck.
Sergey Zimov, a highly regarded member of the Russian Academy of
Sciences has to get out and push. Our cameraman steers, while I film. After more than four hours,
we reach ice-cliffs. But the sound of running
water soon makes it clear: Siberia’s
permafrost is melting. These microbes sleep close to 50
thousand years. Now they wake up and I hear they start to breathe.
And produce smell. The organisms start eating right
away, and in doing so they transform carbon into carbon dioxide.
In our area there’s so much of it that Europe’s climate
will become unbearable if it all thaws out. The speed at which the ground is
releasing greenhouse gases is exceeding scientists’
most dire predictions. Back to Sergey’s plan. Large creatures
once roamed the Mammoth Steppe. We collect evidence of
that within minutes, surrounded by swarms
of mosquitos. The remains of bison,
horses and woolly mammoths. Everywhere people appear
unspoiled nature disappears. In Russia there’s still a lot of open
spaces. It’s our duty to restore the natural variety that
our forefathers witnessed. Zimov is a scientist who wants to
put his theories into practice. So, over two decades ago,
he began resurrecting the Ice Age with his
Pleistocene Park. Together with his son
Nikita, he chopped down trees and planted ancient grasses.
Then they introduced yaks and bison. The
herbivores are tasked with a huge responsibility: slowing the
pace of climate change. In December, a thick blanket of
snow insulates the ground from the cold. The horses, on the hunt
for grass, dig around in the snow and tramp it down. This
allows the permafrost to freeze more thoroughly, which protects it
from thawing out in the summer. The animals pack down the earth,
which is then able to store the cold better. At least that’s the
Russians’ basic hypothesis. Sergey Zimov puts it more bluntly.
He calls his park a battlefield. The fight is between an eco-system that’s
ill-equipped to combat climate change and the ice age one
he aims to resurrect. His experiment has drawn
scientists from around the world, including a German team that’s
examining the grasses the Zimovs have introduced. They’re trying
to measure the levels of environmentally harmful gasses here. We assume the whole thing has a
much more active circulatory system or exchange with the
atmosphere. But that ultimately the ground absorbs more
carbon, due to more photosynthesis and the more
active grasses that grow here. The Zimovs say the ground at their
Pleistocene Park is already retaining the cold better. The Russian republic of Sakha is
sparsely populated. In summer, most of the people here live
from fishing. In winter, they hunt muskrat and ermine. Leonid and Sergey share
a lifelong friendship. But they have different
views on climate change. No, I don’t believe in it. Period.
Nothing’s changed. Everything’s the same as always. Yet, just months before, the banks
of permafrost behind Leonid’s house melted — causing an entire
lake to slide into the Kolyma river. There are billions of lakes like
that, where the water flows in or out. That’s normal. It doesn’t
have any effect on nature. On my life, yes. But not on nature. Zimov says that, long ago, some
people refused to believe the Earth was round. Today, some refuse
to believe climate change is happening. Or it simply
doesn’t bother them. Russians don’t fear global warmig.
They’ll say: We’re looking forward to it and
preparing for it. The Europeans, Americans, North Africans and
Asians must sound the alarm: those already feeling the negative
effects of global warming. The Zimovs aim to recreate the
steppe landscape that existed in the Arctic 12 thousand years ago.
A return to the ice age! They want to create an ecosystem
that can regulate itself: Whether to live or die.
Eat or be eaten. Ultimately, I let a lion or a tiger
in here and say: Now this your park. Then I turn around and leave.
That’s a joke, but I do want the system to become balanced,
resistant and expand on its own beyond our current borders. Sergey can even imagine that, one
day, woolly mammoths will be grazing here alongside the bison. I don’t want to leave my
grandchildren and great- grandchildren this sad northern
landscape in which only mosquitoes feel at home. I want
to leave them the species-rich nature of our forefathers.
The kind of nature that stabilizes the climate
and feeds millions of people. Sergey has often been accused of
playing God. But he argues it’s just the opposite: He’s simply trying
to restore what humanity began destroying centuries ago. The last stage of our journey takes
us to Chukotka in Russia’s Far East. From the town of Anadyr,
we’ll travel to Vankarem, with a stop in Egvekinot. According to Siberian superstition,
you shouldn’t photograph a helicopter just before take off. But
we can’t resist taking a shot when no one’s looking. People here tell us the Mi-8 is
Russia’s most reliable helicopter. But, as passengers, we can’t help but
feeling that it’s rather reluctant to remain airborne. Still, the view out the window
quickly makes up for that.. After an hour and a half , we land
in Egvekinot. Another storm’s brewing, so we change modes of
transport — from a helicopter to a triple axle jeep. We’ll need the 6-wheel drive. North of the Arctic Circle,
the roads come to an end. We’re travelling 200 kilometers as
the crow flies; our average speed is just 11 kilometers an hour. As the uppermost layer of the
permafrost has thawed, driving here is like taking a mud bath. Sometimes the riverbed isn’t as bumpy
as the road running alongside it. At some point we stopped counting
the number of flat tires . There’s just one settlement along the
route. At the winter quarters of these nomadic reindeer herders, our
team attracts a fair bit of attention. They rarely receive visitors. But
music is a universal language. We’re in the Chukotka Autonomous
Okrug, home to the indigenous Chukchi people. Double
the size of Germany, it has just 50-thousand
residents. During the night, our
drivers get hungry. In the early morning hours, we
reach our destination: Vankarem. Only 180 people live here. But
every year they’re inundated with visitors: several thousand walruses. We spend the next few
days with Sergey Kavry. A member of the
indigenous Chukchi people, he belongs to a family
of marine hunters. He wants to pass on his knowledge
to his nephew Yuri. As soon as the weather improves, they plan
to go hunting together. Sergey tells us that the Chukchi live
from walruses. He takes us to see their colony. Sergey has noticed
changes to the marine mammals’ rhythm of life. He says the walruses, which can
weigh several tons, are spending longer times on land. Lounging around
on the ice is no longer an option. The ice disappears earlier and
it keeps retreating. But the walruses need to have somewhere
to rest. They take a holiday with us in Vankarem,
from August to October. But panic keeps breaking out
among the walruses. Often they trample one another to death. To
document the fatalities, Sergey must free their bodies which
are frozen to the ground. The extensive spread of
civilization in the Arctic, the use of the Northeast Passage,
the increase in military technology and even tourism are
possible causes. We need rules and regulations that help the
walruses and reduce their panic. Another reason why walruses get
spooked can be seen up on the cliff. Sergey says he’s counted some
200 polar bears around Vankarem. The Chukchi have always lived
alongside polar bears, so Sergey knows when it’s
best just to leave. The polar bear is suddenly
looking too interested in us. In our religion, we believe
that you’re descended from an animal. My brother, for example,
descends from a polar bear. They told me, to my great
disappointment, that I’m the descendant of a wolf. Not long ago, a polar bear scented
something edible right in front of Sergey’s kitchen window. The more their habitat melts away, the
closer these predators get to humans. That’s why even the smallest children
here learn how to use a flare gun. Once a year, Sergey pays a visit
to the primary school in Vankarem. Here he teaches children how to
avoid a confrontation with a bear. A bear! A bear, right. And who can tell
me which direction the bear went? North. Children can go to school in
Vankarem until fifth grade. After that, they must attend
boarding school, far from home. People here say
that, during that time, they often forget their own
culture and language. Vankarem’s only general
store offers everything from cheese to shoes. But no alcohol — at
least not officially. They fear that, in this
harsh climate, people will try to drown their
sorrows in drink. There’s a saying in Chukotka: Here
the weather’s bad one month of the year, very bad for two months
and for nine months it’s awful! Yuri lives in the town most of
the time. He works as a heating technician, and has
a wife and child. I don’t know what it is, but
something keeps drawing me back here. Here I forget
my fear and my sorrows. For Yuri, today is a special day:
He’ll be leading the harpoon team for the first time. People here go for months in winter
without seeing the sun. But these men tell me nothing compensates
for that better than walrus meat. They also say
it’s safer to kill the animals in the water than on land. As indigenous people, the Chukchi
are permitted to hunt walruses — to meet their own personal needs. Even
though they are faced with extinction. Sergey says that his people are also
threatened with extinction. Yet, unlike the walruses, the
Chukchi don’t have a lobby. Whether in this region or any
other, the few indigenous peoples on this Earth have never
inflicted great harm on nature. And that’s something you
can’t say of white people. Our journey along the Arctic Circle
ends here, where only the Bering Strait separates
Russia from Alaska. We’ve fought our way through
thousands of kilometers of this bleak and inhospitable landscape.
People here have long braved the elements and forces of nature.
But now they’re confronted with immense changes which
will alter their lives, their homeland and our world forever.
