Hi, and thank you for joining me here today for Mark Kim.

Picture this. It's 2004 just after Christmas.

The deadliest tsunami in recorded history has just torn across the Indian Ocean,

killing over 230,000 people.

The world is reeling. Aid workers are scrambling. And in the Ataman Islands,

there's one small island that everyone's particularly worried about. North Sentinel Island.

Not because it's a tourist destination, not because there are resorts or hotels or infrastructure to

rebuild, but because this tiny 23-square-mile patch of land about the size of Manhattan is home

to one of the last truly isolated peoples on earth, the sentinoles.

And here's the thing. Nobody knows if they survived.

So on December 28, 2004, the Indian Coast Guard sends a helicopter to check.

The chopper approaches the island hovering low over the beaches,

searching for any signs of life.

And then, from the tree line, a lone figure emerges,

naked, muscular, bow in hand. He runs across the white sand beach and he fires an arrow directly at the helicopter. The photograph that resulted from this moment

is iconic, a blur of motion against stark white sand, a man defending his home, and the message was

crystal clear. We survived. Now leave us alone. This is the story of North Sentinel Island,

the most isolated and arguably most dangerous island in the world.

North Sentinel Island sits in the Bay of Bengal part of India's Andaman and Nicobar Islands chain.

It's only about 30 miles from Port Blair, the capital of India.

A bustling city with an airport, hotels, modern infrastructure.

But those 30 miles might as well be 30,000 years. Because North Sentinel Island exists outside of time as we understand it. The island is encircled by coral reefs,

...