Jeremy Wade's Dark Waters (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Alaska's Lost River Kings - full transcript

Jeremy Wade travels to Alaska to investigate the disappearance of the majestic king salmon. His search will take him through the heart of grizzly bear territory, remote native communities ...

In the far north
of the Pacific Ocean...

What a place.

..there are reports
of strange things happening.

They stayed down deep.
They were avoiding something.

So the behaviour is strange.
Yes.

A top predator has disappeared...

What I want is something
that'll be feeding on that.

..and alien fish are showing up
where they don't belong.

That is extremely odd.

I'm Jeremy Wade,
fisherman and adventurer.

For more than 35 years,



I've travelled the globe
hunting for monsters...

Look at this beast.

..but mysteries are still out there.

There's something behind me.

I'm journeying into the unknown
to reveal...

Yes.

..the secrets hidden
in these dark waters.

I'm on my way to
the Aleutian Islands.

This is a chain of volcanic,
rocky outcrops

that extends for
more than a thousand miles

off the southwest corner of Alaska.

The Aleutian Islands are famous
for their giant Pacific halibut,

one of the largest
and hardest-fighting fish in the sea.

But something is going on
beneath the waves.



News has reached me
that invaders are taking over

where those monster halibut
used to be.

What's happening of late
is that they are pulling up

all sorts of weird fish,

species that have never been seen
in this part of the world before.

I've just landed
on the island of Unalaska.

The main port here is Dutch Harbor.

Geography here is just
so disorientating

because all the roads,
they all wind around,

and there's water here,
there's water there.

This island is home
to one of the largest

commercial fishing fleets
in the world.

Last year alone,

half a million tonnes
of seafood were landed here.

This is clearly
all about the fishing,

and it's very clearly on a scale
that goes way beyond the needs

of the small number of people
who live here.

So it's all about those people
out on the big boats,

including the boats
that make Deadliest Catch.

But could the strange occurrences
I've heard about

be a threat to all this?

I need to find out what's going on.

Anyone here? No. By all means.
Can I drop in?

Are you local here
or are you visiting or...?

No, I'm a resident here.
I've lived here for 24 years.

So while you're here, do you fish?
Every day.

Is that a silly question? Yeah.

Every day, you know,
I catch plenty of seafood

to help, you know, kind of subsidise
the food bill.

What's the biggest halibut
you've seen? My dad's 450-pounder.

It was one inch short
of eight feet long.

It took him an hour to bring it
to the boat.

When was that?
Like, 1989, 1990...

Somewhere in there. Right.
It was before I was born.

I've been hearing that

there is some sort of strange stuff
turning up from time to time.

Is that something you've seen?
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah?

Things are not where
they're supposed to be,

they're there at different times
of the year,

or there's something completely new
in a place that I had
never seen before.

Last year, I heard the pollock
didn't even show up,

and then, a week after the season,
there was a dragger pulling a net

on the bottom of the ocean,
and they found them at 400ft deep.

Pollock like to school up
at the surface,

but they stayed down deep.
They were avoiding something.

So the behaviour is strange?
Yes.

And this is happening
in a short timespan?

This has happened within the last
two or three years, and it's rapid.

Last year, I saw
more humpback whales in our bay

than I have seen
in my entire life combined
And they're really active.

Man, breaching.
Breaching like torpedoes outside...

What it's saying to me
is almost it's...

It's almost as if the whole system
is becoming a bit more unstable.

Exactly. Yeah.

So, a 450lb halibut,
but that was quite a long time ago.

And as for these other stories,
the weird stuff that's turning up,

that seems to confirm
what I've heard.

Things do seem to be out of whack.

I've never fished here before.

I want to get a line in the water
to see for myself what's down there.

Good morning.
How are you doing?

It looks like we can go out.
Yeah, I think we can...

George Vernon has been fishing
in these waters

for the last 20 years,
and he used to target halibut.

I think we're gonna go out
towards Cape Cheerful.
The wind is...

Cape Cheerful? Yeah.
All right. OK.

I think they call it Cheerful
cos you're happy to see it
when you come in.

Right. Makes sense, yes.
It's not really too cheerful
out there.

Not too long ago,
these waters were producing

record-breaking halibut.

George shows me the lures
that used to do the trick.

White jigs.

And you put a bit of flavour
on that as well, or just...

Yeah. Got some
salmon belly leftover.

I let the lure sink all the way
to the ocean floor.

This is where halibut
should be found.

Yeah. We're nearly 200ft here.

Yeah.

OK. There we go.

Don't know. It might have...

OK.

There it is.

Cod. Pacific cod, yeah.

The Pacific cod is a voracious feeder
and common in these waters.

All right. There he goes.

There it is. You can see the fish.

And it's a cod... Another.
Just an ordinary-sized cod.

So, halibut have more of that.
They have...

The rod tip is more, like,
up-up-up, down-down-down.
Yes. Yes, yes.

It's another cod.

Codfish. Cod.

All I'm catching is cod after cod.

They're bottom feeders, like halibut,
and they are one of

the main commercial catches
landed at Dutch Harbor.

But is that all that's down there?

Something....

Yeah, this is a fish.

The possibilities start racing
through my mind.

Come up closer.

Whatever's on the end
of my line this time

feels like something
entirely different.

I'm in the Aleutians,
a chain of islands

that separates the Bering Sea
from the Pacific Ocean.

I'm investigating strange occurrences
in these icy waters.

But despite reports that halibut
are disappearing...

We got halibut.

..I've just caught one.

That would fit in the mouth
of a big one, but this is a halibut.

It's small, but encouraging.

Even halibut this size
are highly effective predators.

They lie flat on the ocean floor,
camouflaged against the sand.

Their eyes are located
next to each other

on the side of their head.
This bizarre positioning

allows halibut to spot and ambush
prey passing above them.

At three or four pounds,

this one is probably just
a couple of years old.

The big ones, if they're still here,
are more like 40 years old

and can weigh hundreds of pounds.

I fish for another six hours

and I catch more halibut,
but nothing big.

Something small is on there.

Small.

This one's very small
as it comes up.

In a place famous
for its giant halibut,

it seems only small, young fish
are here now.

I need to find out what's happened
to the big ones.

Heading back,
something catches my eye.

Here. The tail just went down here.

We are surrounded by humpback whales.

Humpbacks feed on tiny krill
and small fish like sardines...

..so the whales aren't suspects
in the halibut's disappearance.

For me, an amazing sight.

These waters clearly support
a giant ocean species,

so it's strange that the big halibut
don't seem to be here.

Recreational fishermen
aren't catching them,

but how are
the commercial boats doing?

There's a halibut long-liner
about to depart.

Hello. Am I just in time?
Hey, hey, hey! Yeah.
How are ya? Fine.

Shall I jump on the back?
Come aboard. Great.

We're heading 60 miles down the coast
to an area of deep water.

So, this boat fishes for halibut
using long lines.

So instead of me sitting in a boat

with a single line
going down to the bottom,

they set a line with multiple
baited hooks down on the bottom,

and they're just about to go
and take one in.

The line is hauled in mechanically,
hopefully with fish attached.

It's coming up from over 3,000ft,

twice the height
of the Empire State Building.

At first, all we see is cod,

which have taken the bait
meant for halibut.

But cod is not all that's down there.

So, the halibut are starting to come.

It's a very impressive
choreographed system
that's going here,

made all the more impressive
by the fact that the floor
is shifting.

There's water everywhere.

It definitely seems to be the case
that if there's one,
there'll be a few.

I think it has to do
with the type of ground
down on the bottom.

I'm still feeling hopeful.

These guys are pulling up
2,500 hooks.

There has to be a giant
on one of them.

Despite nearly two miles
of line being pulled up,

almost all of the fish
are around the 20lb mark.

Nothing bigger than 50lb.

Which really makes me ponder the odds
against catching a big halibut

on a single line down there
on the bottom,

with me on the other end
of that line.

It seems like a very,
very tall order.

So, even the commercial boats
with their thousands of hooks

and miles of line aren't finding
any big halibut.

So far, no-one has been able to offer
any explanation

behind their disappearance,
only confirmation that it's real.

I'm wondering if something
has changed

in this part of the ocean
to trigger this shift.

People who spend time in the water
might have more insight.

Hello there. Hi.
Nice to meet you.

Roger and Barry tell me
they've been diving for crabs

around Dutch Harbor
for over 20 years.

It's so convenient to dive just
straight out of your pickup truck.

Fantastic. He doesn't own a boat.
I don't own one. Yeah.

And boats are expensive.

What's your day job?
I'm a heavy-equipment operator.

I have him to... Yeah?

Well, you know what?
I'll let you do it,

but if I come up and I'm wet,

you have to buy me
a cheeseburger later on.

Sound good? So I just tie this...?

During crab season, they'll dive
for two different types of crab -

tanners and kings.

How deep are you going up here?
We might hit 120. Right.

Kings are running deeper right now
because the water

isn't as cold up near the surface
as it normally is.

Halibut will feed on king crabs.
If kings are moving to deeper water,

maybe the big halibut
are following them.

Do you ever see any big halibut?
I have. Have you?

My buddy and I, we were...
Arms out like that... Right.

Laying at 90ft. Hang on. Two of you?
Yeah, two of us.

So, we were just like this.
You can tell it with our hands.
Yeah. We were laying like that.

And so, the head
was right here at my arm,

and then the tail was down there
at him. Right.

So, I mean, it's well over
six feet long. It was huge.

When was that? So, that was '06.

Nothing like that since? Nothing.

The crab season for this year
has just opened.

Each island resident is allowed
a quota of crabs,

but only for personal consumption.

Nice and warm?

That's quite a creepy sight,
just the legs above the surface.

That's a big, old crab.

Part of the fun is cooking up
the crabs right where you land them.

You ready? Yeah.
Now there's dinner.

The knuckles up in here
are really good.

Is that water temperature changing?

Has it been changing,
the last few years?

Right now, I'm in very minuscule,
thin clothing for the summertime,

which two years ago,
I would have been...

And the water temperature today
I read on my gauge was 42 degrees.

I think that's a little too warm,
and that's, you know...

We're lucky to get some crab today.

And you say it appears that
that's pushing the crab further down?

It is. Yeah, that's what
I thought. Enjoy the rest. Bye.

It's interesting. These divers are
people who wear instrumentation,

and they're saying in recent years,
water temperature has risen,

and what they've noticed
at the same time

is that the crabs have become
more scarce,

but also, they're going deeper.

Just like the king crabs,
halibut won't hang around

if the water becomes too warm.

They would either go deeper
or move somewhere else entirely.

If halibut have fled this area,

I would expect other species
to move in

to take their place
in the food chain.

I wonder if the reports I've heard
of unusual fish catches

could be linked to this.

I guess the obvious thing to do
is to look for a scientist.

I'm told anything unusual
caught by trawlers

ends up in the freezer
at the local offices of NOAA,

the National Oceanic
and Atmospheric Administration,

where the fish
are identified and logged.

I've been invited to take a look.

Hello. How are you?

Researchers Jay Orr
and Thomas Piecuch

have pulled out some of
their most recent specimens.

Cod, am I right, that one?
Yes, Pacific cod.

That one, I have no idea.
What's that? That's a snailfish.
Snailfish. Snailfish.

This one... What's that
hanging out there?

Is that just a...?

It's a layer of goo under the skin
that these guys ooze.

It probably helps them
with buoyancy.

That is almost like a human face,
isn't it? Yes.

Some of these fish are so rare
that until they turned up here,

they were unknown to science.

I have a dozen new species
that are on my shelf

that I need to write,
and I should put names on.

It's a bit of a spooky world
down there in the deep ocean,
isn't it?

These have telescopic eyes
as larvae.

So these eyes are actually hanging
out of their head,

kind of moving around. Right.
As they grow, they get sucked in.

They're strange.
That is extremely odd.

The fish here...

Wow. Let's try to get it all on.

I've never seen one
in the flesh before,

but I recognise the lancetfish.

Normally, whereabouts are they?

Subtropical
and sort of warmer oceans.

Lancetfish are usually found
in the mid-Pacific,

more than a thousand miles away,

but this washed up near here
just a few weeks ago.

They're ferocious
predators, actually.

They were going after
whatever they could find.

It's clear that some marine life
isn't where it should be,

but I've still got more questions
than answers.

Jay and Thomas say
there's another scientist
on the island who I should talk to,

and she's agreed to meet me.

What I'm trying to find at the moment
is the resident biologist,

who is somewhere at the water's edge
down here, apparently.

Melissa Good has been based in
the Aleutians for the last ten years.

'Morning. I'm Jeremy, by the way.

Melissa. Nice to meet you, Jeremy.
Good to meet you. Hi, there.

She's been studying
a warm-water phenomenon
that took place in 2016.

The ocean water temperatures
heated up several degrees,

and we've seen a lot of changes
that were associated to this.

And then, you know,
the whole ecosystem
is affected by that.

No-one is sure what triggered it,

but it began as a circular zone
in the Pacific

about a thousand miles wide
and more than 300ft deep,

and it spread towards
the coast of Alaska.

This could explain why
warm-water fish

like the lancetfish
have ended up here.

It looks like that warm water
was affected across Alaska,

through the Alaska coastal current
and then up into the Bering Sea.

Not wanting to be alarmist,
but sort of thinking
worst-case scenario,

this warming could continue?

A lot of the climate scientists
think that it will continue,

we will continue to see warming.

So, what would
this prolonged warming mean

for the rulers of
the icy ocean floor?

We talked to people that lived here
a long time, and it used to be

you could just take your small skiff
out just here in the bay

and get as many halibut as you want
and fill your freezer.

And big ones? And big ones,
and world-record ones.

Now people are having to get
bigger boats,

they're having to travel
much further,

they're having to go out into
the passes, which is really extreme.

I'm wondering if the big halibut
have moved out.

To have any hope of finding one,

I may need to go deeper
and more remote.

I've heard about a place

120 miles further west
along the Aleutian chain.

Hello. Nikolski? Yeah.

The tiny village of Nikolski
is the only settlement on Umnak,

one of the least populated islands
in the Aleutians.

The water around it
plunges down to 6,000ft.

We're barely in the air
in our small plane,

and we encounter a thick fog.

We're at 760ft, and some of the cloud
over there looks lower than we are.

I'm beginning to have second thoughts
about this plan.

The volatile climate makes
flying in this region perilous,

and it doesn't always end well.

I'm in the Aleutian Islands,
the westernmost part of Alaska.

I'm flying through fog
to a remote outpost called Umnak,

where few outsiders venture,
to investigate

if giant Pacific halibut have fled
into colder and deeper waters.

We're here.

I'm relieved to be on the ground.

I'm on the south end
of the 70-mile-long island.

It's 6pm, but I still have
hours of daylight ahead.

This far north,
the sun is rarely below the horizon.

What a place.

What a unique place.

I've been to lots of
interesting places in my life.

I've been to some very remote places,
but I think...

..this sort of feels more isolated.

The priority for me

is to find somebody who's gonna
take me out on the water.

And actually,
the more immediate priority,

I need to put some more clothes on.
This is cold.

The village of Nikolski
is thought to be

the oldest continuously-inhabited
place in the world.

There's been a settlement here
for more than 8,000 years.

I see houses, but so far, no people.

This place is so isolated,
disposing of anything is costly,

so things are left to rust and rot.

There's almost a post-apocalyptic
feel to this place.

Abandoned bits of machinery,
abandoned houses.

Hello. Good evening. Hi. Hi.

How's it going?
Not short of driftwood, then, here.

Nope.

So, how many people
are living here altogether?

Year-round out here,
a population of 20. Right.

For a long while,
a couple of years there,

the population was about 14.

And I guess everybody fishes, yeah?
Does everybody fish? Pretty much.

What about the halibut?
Do you catch halibut? Yeah.

What's the biggest halibut
anyone's seen here?

2009, I caught a 7'7".

We had it hanging off
the ceiling there,

and I can just barely reach up
and grab where the gills started.

Even after an hour of fighting it,
we had to hurry up
and try and hog-tie him.

It was flapping around like crazy.

A fish that size is quite rare,
I'm guessing, is it? No.

Anything over five foot for halibut

is not really good to eat,
and so we'll throw 'em back.

Huge halibut have been caught here

much more recently
than off the mainland.

But are they still here?

I head out on the water
with Danny Snigaroff,

a fifth-generation
Aleutian Island fisherman.

It's hard to think of
a more remote fishing spot.

I've been in a few, but this is
up there with the remotest.

So, is that salmon? Yeah.

Red salmon. Red salmon, yeah.

Red salmon belly.

This fatty flesh sends out
a strong scent into the water.

So, we've got gourmet bait here.

To find a halibut in a sea
this vast and deep,

I'll need all the luck I can get.

I'm told this hand line
is the same one

used to land a seven-foot halibut.

So instead of using a rod and reel,

I'll be hand-lining, the way
locals have for hundreds of years.

But if I hook a halibut on this,

getting it in is going to
really test me.

So, hand line, I need to just
focus my mind on what to do,

and one of the most important things

is not to get my feet
anywhere near the line.

Halibut are powerful fish.

Even a medium-sized one
on the end of this line
could drag me overboard.

One difference between this
and rod-and-line fishing is

it's really heavyweight, this,
it's a thick line.

So, it's actually feeling
something hitting the bait.

I've been working the line
for two hours, but nothing is biting.

If there was anything here,
we'd know by now.

We would know it by now. OK.

This time, maybe. Yeah.

What's that? Yeah. What's that?

Sculpin. That's a sculpin? Yeah.

So, to me, that's weird,

but here, they know what that is.
It's a yellow sculpin.

So the weird ones
I've been hearing about,
they're weirder than this.

It's a fish.

Not what I wanted, but it is a fish.

I'm worn out already
just pulling in a five-pounder.

This is our second spot,
and so far, nothing, so...

..it's not a promising start.

Is there something?
There's something on.

Yeah, there's something on there.

There it is! There it is!

It's big. Watch out.

Just get hold of it.
You can see it. It's there.

That was hard work,
getting that. It's a small one.

I'm guessing it weighs around 30lb.

This is a good sign.
It wouldn't class as a giant,

but it's ten times the weight of
the one I caught off Dutch Harbor.

That is very much a predator's mouth.

So, they lie there. When that opens,

there's teeth,
creates an in-rush of water.

Because it's so well-camouflaged,
small fish are just swimming along,

and the next thing you know,

the lights go out
and you're inside this.

The halibut is a powerful swimmer
when in pursuit of its prey.

Its heavy, muscular tail can be used
to stun or even kill its target.

Don't lose any time,
get the bait down there.

Before I arrived in the Aleutians,
I'd heard giant halibut were gone.

That 40-inch fish has given me hope
that monsters are still out there.

I just have to find one.

That's a fish.

That's quite a fat, old cod.

What I want is something
that's going to be feeding on that.

This is our last spot.

The light is deceiving. It's already
almost 10:30 in the evening,

and all I'm catching now is cod.

It's a case of rest up and...

..hit tomorrow with renewed vigour.

The islanders have set me up
in an empty hunting lodge,

but the endless daylight
makes for a restless night.

The next day, we start early.

It's 36 degrees, and strong winds
are in the forecast.

I need to take advantage
of the calm weather while I can.

Yesterday's catch has me hopeful

that giant halibut are still
down there somewhere.

We're heading to another spot where
Danny has caught halibut before,

but the temperature
is already dropping

and the wind is starting
to sting my face.

I'm limited to one spot
because of the weather.

We're just in a bit of a bay,
close to land.

Anywhere else is fairly insane.

Let's go get it.

I can just about feel my fingers.

I just wanna feel a sign of life.

So, it's a whole new area
we've worked today,

and, er, no halibut.

I just don't know
where the halibut are.

No fish, and the weather
is deteriorating.

The wind is blowing harder
and harder by the minute.

Yeah. There was a forecast of sorts
that said 15 knots.

This is way more than 15. Yeah.

This is more like 30.

If you think we have to go in,
you just tell me, and we'll go.

The wind is now more than 40mph.

A strong gust could
easily flip this boat.

Danny calls it,
and we head back to land.

The next morning, there's no let-up
in the bad weather.

Many fishermen have died
working in this inhospitable region.

Danny doesn't want to risk
his boat or our lives,

but I have to keep trying.

Locals say that at one time
halibut was so easy to catch

you could do it from the shore.

OK.

This is a very non-standard form
of halibut-fishing.

Obviously, I can't see
what's beneath the surface,

but Danny's caught them here before,
big halibut.

So I have a certain level of
anticipation. This, you know...

This has the feeling of a real spot.

The local method is to leave
the bait overnight.

The view here has become
very monotonous. It's just...

..just white in every direction,
more or less.

Out at sea, the bay's not too bad,

but as soon as you get past the reef,
it's six-foot seas.

So that's way too much
for that small boat.

For now, all I can do is wait,
which is very frustrating.

There's a good chance
the halibut are here,

but I can't get out to catch them.

And now another blow.

Danny has just told me
that he went to check the set line,

and the line was bust.

Apparently, whatever took it
pulled it so hard

that the near end of the line
was just wedged,

deeply wedged, tightly wedged
in a crack in the rock.

So that has to be something
with some force that did that.

This, of course, is the problem

with leaving a line
to fish for itself.

All I can do is set another line.

Something big went after my bait,
but what was it?

I'm stuck on a remote island
on the edge of Alaska,

on the trail of
a giant Pacific halibut.

Strong winds, freezing temperatures
and relentless fog

have stopped me getting out to sea
for three days.

My only hope is a line cast
from the shore.

I was wanting to find the line
absolutely taut into the water,

but slack means
there's nothing there.

Fishing from the shore isn't working.

It ate the bait.

What do you think that was?
I don't know.

The next morning
brings no better news.

Actually can't get out today,
the boat won't go out.

Another day of poor visibility
and high winds means

it's still too dangerous to head out
in the inflatable boat.

I'm making no progress.

I've got to leave this island,
but it's not safe to fly
in this weather.

I was originally told this plane
had just been dumped here,

but it turns out there's a bit more
to the story than that.

This was trying to take off
and it was hit by a cross-wind gust,

so it basically came back down
onto the runway.

The right landing gear
poked through the wing,

the propeller got chewed up
on the ground.

Basically, they just decided,
rather than fix it,

just tow it out of the way,

get the motors taken out,
the instruments,
all that kind of stuff.

And it is now just here as a reminder
of how important it is

to respect the weather and not to fly
when the conditions are sketchy.

Talking to people here.

They're telling me people sometimes
get stuck here for three weeks.
The record is five weeks.

There's no way I can afford to be
stuck here for that amount of time.

Hello.

You're gonna become a resident here.

It does look like that, doesn't it?
Tradition says...

Our tradition... Yeah.

..if you get new people
on the island,

it's going to rain
to wash your footprints away.

So that's why it's raining.
So it's my fault.

Yup. It's all your fault. Right.

I've come too far to give up,

but the fog isn't budging.
I've got to fish somewhere else.

I hear conditions are better

on the other side
of the Aleutian chain.

I just need to figure out
how to get there.

OK, well, where does it come in?
Is it down...? Just...

All right, and what time
are you expecting it, roughly?

It looks like I could be leaving.

There is a helicopter on its way.
It left Dutch Harbor
half an hour ago,

should be here within the hour.

Still not good enough conditions
for the mail plane to come in.

The reason we're doing this
is because, in reality,
it's not just me.

There is a crew of us here.

We're just getting stuff ready.

Just getting the minimum amount
of stuff that we can get

with three of us on the helicopter.

Flying in this weather
will use up more fuel,

so to be safe, we're leaving
some gear behind.

It's down.
That should be the hard part.

In this extreme fog, the helicopter
must fly low to maintain visibility.

I'm at the other end
of the Aleutians chain,

south of the Alaskan mainland.

The weather here
couldn't be more different,

yet it's the same ocean,
the same currents,
the same marine life.

If giant halibut
are still in these waters,

this place is my last chance
to find one.

Away from the howling winds,
and on a sturdier fishing boat,

it's back to rod and line
to fish the way I know best.

There's very deep water over there,
600ft, 700ft.

It comes up here, shallow water
with lots of structure

where the small fish, food fish,
tend to hang out.

And for the moment,
we're about on the top of the tide.

All the conditions feel right
to catch this deep-water predator,

the giant Pacific halibut,
if they're still down there.

That's... That's taking line
from the word "go". That's promising.

Looks like we have something...

Look at this. Look at this!

Look at this.

This. Look at this beast.
This is a lingcod.

Teeth on that.
That took especially big bait
put down for a giant halibut.

What a fish that is.

But the halibut I'm after
would feed on a fish this size.

The lingcod's colouration
allows it to ambush prey
on the rocky ocean floor.

Dubbed the pit bull of the Pacific,

it will eat almost anything
it can fit into its mouth.

So, that wasn't what I was expecting,

but that's the thing about fishing -
it's full of surprises.

But apparently,
they are encountered here.

A bait is never completely selective.

No. There we go. Yes!

This has got a slightly
different feel to it.

There it goes.
Running, running, running.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

It's bigger.
Certainly pulling harder.

Still under the boat.

I think I can safely cancel
my gym membership.

Not quite reduced to tears,

but a slight amount
of sweating going on.

I'm revising my estimate upwards.

This is pretty big.
I'll wait till I see this one.

I think we're gonna
see it in a second.

Here we go. Here we go.
Here we go. It's big.

It's a halibut, and it's a good one.

See if this will come on the boat.
I want to look at this
and I want to release it.

Normally, those two things
are incompatible.

These giants have been known
to break limbs with their thrashing.

Normally, they're gaffed, harpooned
or shot before being brought in.

Lassoing the tail.

And the strength of it,
even when its propulsion unit

is supposedly immobilised...

We'll open the door there,
and we're gonna bring it in on deck.

It's biting me. Right.
It's biting me.

And here we go.
Here we go. Here we go.

Here we go.

And if you could support the neck,
I will shift my grip now to here.

It's 100lb of solid muscle.

Just about manageable in the boat.
So, they're definitely here.
Big old mouth.

I mean, this is such
an efficient predator.

I want to take some time to marvel
at this monster of the deep,

but it's so strong.

Yeah... What I'm gonna do,

I'm gonna hold...
I just can't hold it. Hold the head.

I got it. I think this might
just go straight over the side.

I can't sit with this on my knee.

Just get the head up. Yeah.

Let's get him out of there.

There it is.

That's one of the few times
I've been beaten up by a fish.

I was trying to get it
to pose nicely,

but they're
quite ill-mannered, halibut.

I think I've probably seen enough
to start making some conclusions.

I came out here to see
if giant halibut

could still be found in these waters,

and I finally caught a big one.

It proves that they are still here,

but clearly, the number of
huge halibut has rapidly decreased.

There are forces at play here
that are not fully understood,

and now, more than ever,
the oceans around Alaska

need sympathetic management.

Then, with luck, assuming
sea temperatures return to normal,

the fish that don't belong here
will retreat to their waters

and the halibut will rule
the icy ocean floor once again.