When I was a kid, this was my playground.
The Pacific Ocean, the world's largest and deepest.
It inspires awe, wonder,
and sometimes even fear.
Our oceans are as critical to our survival as the air we breathe.
Around the world, we have protected close to 8% of these waters.
Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary is an example of that.
Stretching along a quarter of California's coastline,
from San Francisco in the north,
to Big Sur in the south…
this unique reserve protects more than 6,000 square miles of the Pacific Ocean.
It's a hot spot for visitors…
from migrating wildlife,
to the tourists who come to see them.
Monterey's rich waters are a huge draw,
even for the biggest animal of all time.
The magnificent blue whale.
All this natural wonder right on California's doorstep.
But can protected places and millions of people coexist?
Could there be a future for wild spaces
where, alongside all of us, nature still thrives?
Each season in Monterey Bay creates its own dramatic story.
The toughest time of all is winter.
It's December at Point Año Nuevo
towards the northern end of the sanctuary.
These remote sand dunes are reserved for California's most charismatic visitor.
Northern elephant seals…
named for their long snouts, which males flaunt to attract a mate.
But at this time of year,
the females have other things on their minds.
Each mom usually gives birth to a single pup.
This one is just four weeks old
and already weighs 300 pounds.
All thanks to his mother's milk.
At 55% fat, it's some of the richest in the animal kingdom.
But producing such nutritious milk comes at a cost.
After a month on the beach, his mom has given all she can.
She must return to the sea to feed herself…
never to return to him.
For the first time in his life, this pup is on his own.
He's big enough to be weaned, but he's still hungry.
Being abandoned is a trial that every pup must face.
Most of these weaners now fast
until they're old enough to hunt for themselves.
But once in a while, a pup comes along
that is not prepared to accept his fate…
…and attempts to pull off
a milk heist.
It will call for cunning and deception.
And the ability to go in under the radar.
Easier said than done.
All he has to do is bump this pup out of the way.
Busted.
Maybe he could use a distraction.
Luckily for him…
fights regularly break out between the two-ton males.
Almost there.
He can't afford to get caught in the crossfire.
It's a lucky escape.
Around one in 40 youngsters die from being crushed every year.
As peace returns
and the colony settle down for a snooze…
…he spots
a soft target.
If he doesn't wake up Mom.
Easy does it.
Success!
Mom hasn't seen the switch and drives her own youngster away.
This young criminal mastermind
gets away with another round of feeding.
And a head start when he first goes to sea in spring.
Only about one in a thousand pups masters this sneaky strategy.
Those that pull it off become so enormous
that scientists call them super weaners.
But for most, winter in Monterey means there is less food to go around.
And in the vast, open expanse of the sanctuary,
finding the next meal is never easy.
Orca.
These supremely intelligent killer whales are the ocean's top predators.
They live in close family groups.
This pod relies on the wisdom of their experienced matriarch…
…named Star by the researchers who study her.
One of Star's daughters is pregnant.
Orca have calves about every five years.
So it's more important than ever that they find food, and soon.
A lone California sea lion.
A much-needed meal for Star and her pregnant daughter.
Their celebration helps strengthen the family bonds.
But this kill won't keep them going for long.
Star must lead her family in the search for more.
It's not just the lack of food that makes winter such a tough time here.
As the swell rolls in…
it meets the sanctuary's shallow coastal waters.
It becomes one of the biggest and best-known waves in the world.
Mavericks.
Epic for surfers.
But the waves' relentless power can make the coast an exhausting place to live.
Although there are places to find shelter…
if you know where to look.
Monterey's man-made harbors were once home to commercial fleets
that stripped the ocean of its wildlife
on an industrial scale.
Many species, from sardines to the great whales,
came close to extinction.
In 1992, Monterey Bay was declared
a national marine sanctuary.
Now these same harbors offer some respite.
A place to relax.
And recover.
The southern sea otter.
Once hunted for their pelts, their numbers fell as low as 50.
Now protected, the sanctuary supports over 2,000 of these critters.
The old whaling port of Moss Landing at the center of Monterey Bay
welcomes its newest arrival.
A baby sea otter pup,
just a few hours old.
He's utterly helpless,
so relies totally on his mom.
She needs to keep him warm and dry.
It's a never-ending job.
Fortunately, we have created some handy haul-out sites.
If she can find any space amongst the crowds.
And even when she does…
…it's just too high.
Time for a feed
and a rest in the warmth of the sun.
As a new mother, she can't just stay with her pup.
To produce quality milk, she must be well-fed herself.
And that means leaving him alone.
But the harbor's walkways are too busy.
So the search is on for a quiet, dry place to stash him away safely.
Perfect.
Now that he's safe,
the rarest of opportunities for a new mom.
Some "me time."
She forages for shellfish and burrowing worms.
Nursing moms need to double the calories they eat.
Until he's weaned in six months' time,
he will depend on her finding enough food for both of them.
And the newest resident of Monterey Bay
is back where he most wants to be.
The sanctuary also nurtures life beyond its waters.
Warm currents flowing up from the south release their heat into the air…
taking the bite out of winter and creating the perfect conditions
for a precious visitor.
Arriving in these protected coastal woodlands within the city of Santa Cruz…
a western monarch butterfly.
It's flown up to 1,000 miles to get here,
all the way from Canada.
And it's not alone.
An entire colony will spend the next few months here,
protected from the harsh winters further north.
Once, millions sheltered in these woods.
Now, less than 1% remain,
the others lost to climate change
and habitat destruction.
These trees are one of their few protected havens.
Now, the monarchs must hold out for spring to arrive.
Finally, after the long wait, a warmer sun rises.
They spread their wings to absorb the heat.
And flap to stir cold flight muscles.
Then, when the moment's right…
they head inland to lay their eggs.
With successive generations working their way back towards Canada…
carrying a new hope for the future of their species…
thanks to the gift of the ocean's winter warmth.
Reminding us that the health of our climate
and our ocean are intimately connected.
The arrival of spring is marked by a change in the prevailing winds.
Northwesterlies drive an upwelling of cold water from the deep.
It also brings nutrients to the shallows.
And within weeks,
mesmerizing patterns start to appear all along the coast.
Forests of kelp.
These giant algae support a vibrant community.
The perfect place for Monterey's sea otters to search for food.
And the kelp helps in the fight against climate change
by capturing up to 20 times more carbon per acre than forests on land.
This hungry otter won't find what he's looking for up here.
At the base of the kelp is a spring pantry of fresh food.
But it's not all to his taste.
Sea otters are fussy eaters.
When young, they get a taste for their mom's favorite food.
Some eat spiky urchins.
But not this one.
He loves mussels.
Lots of them.
And when the otters need to kick back and digest their meal…
they roll themselves up in the fronds…
…and enjoy a nap without drifting out to sea.
The spring kelp acts as a safe haven for many.
But beyond lie deeper waters with nowhere to hide.
Monterey Bay conceals an underwater abyss
every bit as magnificent as the Grand Canyon.
Just over 10,000 feet deep, it splits the bay in two.
Any animal swimming along the coast will cross the canyon.
Star and her hungry family know it.
Now a grandma, Star has a two-month-old calf to look after.
She's timed their arrival here
to set an ambush for their most important prey.
Every April, gray whales and their calves migrate north through the sanctuary.
Sticking close to the safety of the shore, they are camouflaged by the kelp forests.
But when they reach the middle of the bay…
they have no option but to break cover.
Adult grays are about eight times the weight of an orca.
Too big to take on.
So the smaller calf will be the target.
Enough to feed the whole family for many days.
When hunting, they fall silent.
The largest adults lead the attack.
First, they ram the calf…
hitting it with so much force, they lift the 2,000-pound young gray
almost out of the water.
But its protective mother fights back.
One swipe of her huge tail…
could be deadly to an orca.
They push the calf away from its mother.
One by one, they launch onto its back…
trying to drown it.
In the thick of the action, the youngest orca calf,
already learning from its elders.
The gray whale's mother hasn't given up yet.
She tries to keep her calf's head above the surface.
But she's no match for the family working together.
It's a mercifully swift end to events.
This one whale will sustain many.
And Star has passed on the skills her family will need to survive.
Spring turns to summer, and there's a dramatic change in the weather.
After warming the land all winter, the sea now cools it.
The cold water welling up from the deep meets the warm summer air…
and sea fog starts to form.
Known locally as the June Gloom, it blankets the shore.
At the sanctuary's northern edge,
it envelops San Francisco's iconic Golden Gate Bridge.
For the next few months, it will bring badly needed moisture
along the coast to one of the most drought-ridden states in America.
Supporting towering forests.
And maintaining a lush, green landscape through the hottest months.
But gradually through the summer,
the sunshine burns off the fog and begins to warm the sea surface.
New creatures start to appear.
Some having traveled thousands of miles.
Majestic blue whales.
They pair up here en route to mating grounds further south.
Giant sunfish, ten feet across,
lie on their sides to soak up the sun's rays.
Risso's dolphins play in the swell.
And a mysterious new arrival.
A great white shark.
She's around six years old.
Not yet big enough to maintain her own body temperature.
So she's heading for a warm, shallow cove by Santa Cruz…
already busy with other summer visitors.
But she's just six feet long…
…and only interested in eating fish.
For the last few years, dozens of young great whites
have been hanging out here in summer.
Nicknamed Shark Park,
this is the northernmost place in the Pacific
these youngsters are known to gather.
An inspiring opportunity for the sanctuary's human visitors
to appreciate these icons of the ocean.
But Monterey's greatest spectacle is still to come.
Where sunlight meets the nutrient-rich water rising up from the deep…
the ocean turns green.
Billions of microscopic algae called phytoplankton multiply.
They might be tiny, but these plant-like cells
are critical for all life.
Globally, they generate more oxygen
than all the world's rain forests combined.
Within days, a green flame forms on the surface of the ocean
that's visible from space.
These blooms are the first rung of a complex food chain.
And as summer turns to fall, they trigger the start
of one of the most incredible events in the ocean.
Beginning with sea nettle jellies.
One and a half feet across…
and up to 15 feet in length…
these otherworldly creatures drift until they find the plankton blooms.
Then, pulsating, they fight the current to gorge themselves.
Forming huge swarms.
The great gathering has begun.
Anchovies arrive in their millions,
also here to feast on the plankton.
These dark, dense shoals of fish can stretch over a mile wide.
But they, too, are on the menu.
California sea lions.
Anchovy hunters.
Hundreds strong.
But finding the shoals over such a vast area is far from easy.
Humpback whales join the hunt.
They can pinpoint the anchovies from huge distances away.
How they do this is a mystery.
But the sea lions seem to know what the whales are up to…
and follow in their wake.
Once they have zoned in on the fish…
the sea lions charge in…
rounding them up.
As the anchovies panic, they form an ever-tighter ball.
A 5,000-gallon mouthful.
It pays to work as a team.
A pod of a thousand dolphins
rush to join the bonanza.
Everyone will feast until the shoal is no more.
This extraordinary banquet is one of the great wonders
of the natural world…
playing out within sight of the densely populated California coast.
Monterey Bay's marine life has seen a remarkable recovery.
But it's a very small piece of a much bigger jigsaw.
And around the world, ocean health is in steep decline.
Sea temperatures are rising, damaging entire ecosystems.
Fish stocks are plummeting, causing havoc up and down the food chain.
And pollution is escalating,
poisoning our seas.
To tackle these threats,
we need to expand and connect our marine sanctuaries.
And by protecting the ocean's hot spots,
we can generate impact far beyond the sanctuary's borders…
enriching the ocean beyond, and our own lives too.
The fate of the world's oceans affects every single one of us.
They are our life-support system.
Our health and theirs are bound together.
Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary gives us hope
that although human activity has harmed the ocean,
as long as we make the right choices from now on,
we can heal it too.