Planet Earth

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 06 New Worlds

2011-06-03T11:22:00.001+01:00

Australia, a huge island that has
drifted by itself for 45 million years,
is a strange assortment of landscapes.
Until just a few generations ago,
they were lightly trodden by people.
This land, with all its curious wildlife,
was utterly unknown to western eyes.
But a little over two hundred years ago,
the british came to
this island continent...
and declared it theirs.
At first
it was just a place to dump criminals,
16,000 kilometres from home.
But this distant british outpost
would soon become a land of
opportunity for those that followed.
Now there's a population
of twenty million,
living in some of the most modern,
desirable cities in the world.
A whole nation has grown up fast
in a land of sun and space.
But how has the big old landscape
coped with this rapid transformation?
And now there are so many people here,
what has happened to the wildlife?
Australia's most famous animals have
had to come to terms with changes.
A koala is a creature of habit
and will doggedly follow the route
it knows between favourite feeding trees.
If there is a road in the way,
it will simply stroll across.
Koalas are good climbers,
so even if there's a fence
between it and a good feed,
it needn't be an obstacle.
If a koala knows there's something
to eat on the other side,
it will just clamber across
until it gets there.
It's slow, but you have to
give it full marks for style.
That's all very well in quiet areas.
But in australia, wildlife and humans
often want the same real estate.
When cities grow too fast,
and trees disappear under
the spread of suburbia,
koalas don't change their habits.
They hang on in there,
still following their familiar routes.
As long as there are
just enough trees left,
koalas will stay around
the most unlikely places.
Every time a koala comes to the ground,
it has to take its chances against
the hazards of urban living.
But australian animals have evolved
for millions of years in a tricky,
changeable environment,
and even in the face of city sprawl,
the toughest survive.
Australia's native wildlife has suddenly
been faced with a whole new world.
But sometimes it's
the animals that benefit.
Kangaroos eat grass -
and in this town near melbourne,
where a golf course has been built
alongside patches of natural bushland,
the local grey kangaroos
have hit the jackpot.
In a dry old country like australia,
all this fresh, green, well-watered grass
is like a banquet for these lucky roos.
It's a vast improvement on
what they'd usually get.
These are shy animals normally -
but not here.
There may be five hundred kangaroos here,
and some have lived all their lives
on the greens among the golfers -
eating grass, raising their families,
relaxing in the shade of the trees,
and generally behaving exactly
as they would in the bush.
In fact, it's the golfers
who have to play around them.
And an audience of kangaroos is enough
to put anyone off their stroke.
A rubbish dump might seem
a less salubrious place to dine out,
but this one, a few miles from brisbane,
has become a fast food
stop for sacred ibises,
and they thrive in great
numbers as a result.
They travel in from nearby swamps,
where they roost, arriving bang
on time when the dumpsters unload.
It's a reliable meal -
while they would naturally dig
about for crayfish and mussels,
here they can take their
pick of gourmet throwouts.
Urban living has its advantages,
if you've got the nerve.
And the minute the dump closes
at the end of the day,
the birds all disappear, regular as
clockwork, back to their swamp.
More than three-quarters of australia's
population lives on the coast,
and so that's where the relationship
between people and
wildlife is most obvious.
But the human effect hasn't
confined itself to the cities.
Beyond the coast is a whole new world,
and within fifty years
of british settlement,
some brave souls had taken on
the challenge of living inland.
The contrast between city and
outback living couldn't be stronger.
This is the most unpredictable
desert in the world.
In australia's interior,
the temperature can swing from
46 degrees centigrade to minus 8.
Some years 20cm of rain
may fall in a single day,
and in other years, there may hardly
be enough to wet the ground.
Australia's soils are
dry and impoverished -
on average the poorest in the world.
It's a hard place to farm,
and yet now there are 18 million
sheep here, and 30 million cows -
more than there are people.
One of the toughest challenges
was the lack of water.
But people discovered that
there was water here -
gigantic pools, millions of years old,
deep underground.
Pioneering farmers struggled
to bring it to the surface,
so that their sheep and cattle would
never be far from a reliable supply.
And for the native wildlife, these
man-made oases became very attractive.
These animals have had millions of years
to adapt to the times when no rain falls.
And suddenly, here was plenty of water.
In the old days, emus and
kangaroos would have stayed
close to whatever natural water
they could find in this arid landscape.
When droughts were long,
many would have died.
But nowadays, with all this water on tap,
no animal need be more than
10 kilometres away from a drink.
And alongside the cattle,
the natives have thrived as never before.
Now, there may be 10 million red kangaroos
in australia's arid lands.
It seems that wherever
people have struggled
to wrestle a living from the land,
the native wildlife is ready
to help itself to the proceeds.
For native birds that have
evolved on a diet of seeds,
what better place to feed
than a wheat store?
Little corellas flock to storage
bunkers in gangs thousands strong,
turning up in greatest numbers just
when the harvest is brought in.
They're not put off at all by
the heavy tarpaulin covers -
these parrots simply rip
through them and eat their fill.
Their beaks never stop growing
and these intelligent birds
use them like tin openers.
And being highly sociable,
they go around in big numbers.
It's pretty hard to stop
this avian smash-and-grab.
Farmers try to scare them
off by firing shots...
...but all they do is fly
round and land again.
They will finally disappear
en masse to their roosts -
but they'll be back again tomorrow.
Parrots have been up
to tricks like these ever
since the first settlers
began growing crops,
two centuries ago.
But not all australia's native
wildlife is quite so resilient.
There have been many changes since
the british first planted their flag here,
and some have had an impact that those
early colonists could not have foreseen.
At first, the land they found
had seemed like eden.
But viewed through homesick eyes,
it needed a few changes.
The countryside needed taming.
All those messy trees needed clearing,
to make room for farms.
And the place would surely benefit
from some superior animals.
And so those early colonists set about
turning australia into a little england.
Bit by bit, here was surrey
on the other side of the world -
faintly familiar, but not quite the same.
And the native animals were coming
face to face with strangers.
For fifty million years
this continent had nurtured
its own private set of wildlife -
and now it was beginning to fill up
with a parade of animals
that didn't belong here at all.
And some foreign invaders began
to cause serious problems.
When the earliest
british colonists arrived,
they brought with them
domestic animals from home,
but they didn't keep them fenced.
Plenty wandered off,
and the toughest prospered.
Nowadays, wild pigs,
descendants from those early porkers,
are rampaging through some of
australia's most pristine landscapes.
Pigs need water to keep cool,
and wetlands are where
they do their worst damage.
With their sharp feet
and incessant wallowing,
they destroy vegetation and
damage waterholes far better
suited to more delicate feet.
They will eat virtually anything,
and are especially partial to the eggs
of native waterbirds and reptiles.
They spread nasty diseases,
and with a population
that can double in a year,
there are now millions of them.
But pigs were just the beginning.
And some incomers have a shameful history.
1858 - rabbits are brought from england
to give the colonists
something to shoot at.
They begin to multiply alarmingly fast -
one farmer has 36 million
on his property alone.
They eat all the grass, and push small
native animals out of their homes.
And they're still not under control.
1840 - camels are brought
from asia as beasts of burden,
but later abandoned in favour of lorries.
Half a million descendants
now roam the outback,
too many for
a drought-prone land to support.
1935 - the south american cane toad,
poisonous species,
is brought in to eat pest beetles.
The plan fails, but the toads
themselves thrive out of control,
poisoning native animals
that try to eat them.
Even the most innocent seeming
foreigners can be trouble.
In 1822, settlers brought their
european honeybees to australia,
and put their hives
where the most flowers grew.
They could then produce abundant honey.
But it was bad news for the bees
that lived there already.
In the tropical
rainforest of the northeast,
the native bees feed on pollen and nectar,
and some of the flowers need to be
vibrated, to release their pollen reward.
It's a relationship that has
grown up over millions of years.
But european honeybees
can't do this buzz pollination -
they just can't shake
their bodies in the right way.
Their method is to steal the pollen
that the native bees have
just set on the flowers.
And they have even
more aggressive tactics.
They beat up the native bees,
stealing the pollen from their backs,
and driving them away from the flowers.
Without proper pollination,
the flowers, and the native animals
that rely on them, are at risk.
But of all the invaders that
came from the old country,
there is one that
has really outdone the rest.
Foxes were deliberately brought
to australia from england
a hundred and fifty years ago,
so that homesick british gentlemen
could hunt, just as they'd always done.
But those foxes that didn't get caught,
started to thrive.
From an original few dozen released,
there are now millions
of foxes in australia.
Superbly adaptable, they have spread
almost everywhere, even in deserts.
Two hundred years ago, australia
was full of strange little animals,
all flourishing in a landscape
where there were few big predators.
But now they all became the perfect,
fox-sized meal.
They had no idea how to react
to this new enemy.
And suddenly they began to vanish.
A disaster had begun.
Australia's native animals
were being hit from all sides.
They were being devoured by new predators.
Their food was being eaten by
foreigners with bigger appetites.
And their habitat was being taken from
them, so that the land could be farmed.
Many native animals,
once numerous, quietly disappeared.
And they're still going now.
Since the british arrived,
54 species of mammals,
birds and frogs have gone.
In the desert, almost half of all the
mammal species have become extinct.
This shocking decline has no parallel
anywhere else in the world.
Australia's most famous extinct animal
managed to hang on
for a while in tasmania.
The tasmanian tiger was one of
australia's few big carnivores,
but it had been driven from
the mainland by dingoes,
and the remainder killed by farmers
who accused it of taking sheep.
In 1936,
the year it was finally
given official protection,
the last one died in a tasmanian zoo.
But although the picture looks grim,
things are not always what they seem.
In the far southwest corner of
australia there once lived a small,
pointy-nosed marsupial
called gilbert's potoroo.
It hadn't been seen for
over a hundred years,
and was presumed to be long extinct,
the victim of the usual troubles.
Then, in 1994, one was spotted.
It wasn't lost after all - only hiding.
Although it's the size of a rabbit,
it eats almost nothing but fungi,
which it digs for in deep undergrowth.
And it only comes out at night.
No wonder it was hard to spot.
There may be fewer than forty of them
left in the whole of australia -
in fact it may be
australia's rarest mammal,
and it needs intensive protection.
But it's not extinct.
And it goes to show
that australian wildlife is easy
to lose in such a big place.
What else might there be
hiding out there in the vastness?
There's a search going on to find
australia's most legendary
and obscure bird -
a little green parrot that
looks like a fat budgie.
It was named the night parrot,
because it's probably nocturnal.
It's said to run around the spinifex
grassland of australia's dry interior,
but it hadn't been seen for eighty years.
Everyone assumed the night parrot
was just another museum piece.
But then, in 1990,
one was found in queensland,
squashed at the side of the road.
Here was evidence that there might
still be night parrots running
about out there,
somewhere in the darkness.
There were campaigns to make sure that
anyone who spotted one in the vast,
lonely landscape would know what it was.
Long-distance road-train drivers were even
shown pictures of what to look out for.
And then came a report that a live one
had been seen in a remote cattle station,
called newhaven,
right in the centre of australia.
The farm owner, alex coppock,
is convinced of what he saw.
Around his cattle trough,
drinking with the other thirsty birds,
were two unfamiliar birds
he'd never seen before.
They were definitely parrots,
but not the usual ones.
Alex has lived and
farmed here for 40 years,
and he knows the birds
of the outback pretty well.
These strangers certainly
weren't budgies, or ringnecks.
They were little fat birds,
and had very short tails,
and oddly marked green feathers.
Checking what he'd seen
against old illustrations,
alex was sure that the birds
at his trough really were night parrots.
If the night parrot does still exist,
this is the kind of place
where it would live,
with spinifex clumps to hide it
during the day, and plenty of water.
It's the holy grail for ornithologists,
none more devoted than richard jordan.
He looks in the places
that seem most promising,
in the hopes of flushing
the secretive little birds
from their hiding place.
But there's not a glimpse.
It may be australia's least known bird,
but it seems that it was a sitting
target for foreign predators,
and it couldn't cope with
changes brought by farming.
The search goes on.
Even old bird's nests are checked,
in case a fragment of night parrot
feather has been woven in.
Even this would be evidence.
But in 13 years of searching
richard has found nothing.
Nightfall is the time to watch.
This is when these secretive
birds would come to drink,
with all the other birds
that rely on these remote waterholes
in the middle of the desert.
But it is, to say the least, unlikely.
Many people claim to
have seen the night parrot,
but so far, none can prove it.
The only solid evidence there's been,
was that one squashed bird found in
queensland, and the search goes on.
This is a huge country,
and the most vulnerable animals
tend to be the most cryptic.
So how do you find out
if they even still exist,
let alone help them survive?
Ask the people who know
the land better than anyone.
Australia has been inhabited
for 60,000 years.
Until the british landed,
there were maybe half a million people,
in a place three-quarters
the size of europe.
But they lived across the whole continent,
and they knew the wildlife intimately.
Aborigines had long been
managing the landscape.
They regularly burned it,
to clear the way for hunting,
and to encourage fresh plants to grow.
The native wildlife had become
tuned in to this new regime.
When white people came, the aboriginal
population dwindled to barely a quarter.
But their skills didn't vanish entirely.
And now, all over australia,
they are helping with
the rediscovery of lost animals.
A lizard called the great desert skink
had been missing for decades.
Western scientists had only found
twenty in almost a century.
But when aboriginal landowners
helped the search,
the skinks began to reappear,
always on aboriginal land.
In uluru, the locals called it tjakura
now traditional owners,
like norman jackeleri and scientists,
like steve mcalpin,
pool their skills
in the continuing search.
Norman knows this area intimately,
it's his home.
As a young child he was
taught to recognise signs
and follow animal tracks
by his grandparents.
As a scientist, steve relies on
norman's special knowledge,
that has only come from
a lifetime spent in the bush.
But now, they are teaching each
other the skills needed to find
and study these elusive animals.
What's that one?
Fox
so, there's a fox come through here,
so they're probably hunting
for that tjakura, i reckon.
There are predators here,
foxes are a problem,
but this was definitely skink country.
It seemed that western science had
been looking in the wrong places,
all those years.
Tjakura.
Oh yeah, a beauty.
It's a beauty, isn't it?
...lt's an animal that
norman is quite familiar with.
190...
so the skinks had always
been here after all,
and the local people
knew their behaviour well.
They knew that they came out at night
from their big family burrows in the sand
to feed on desert plants
and hunt for insects,
leaving their distinctive tracks.
But something else became apparent.
In order for the lizards to thrive,
the land must be burned
in the traditional way.
It may seem drastic, but this has been
going on here for thousands of years.
The skinks need habitat like this,
selectively burned to provide
just the right amount of cover
and fresh new growth on which they feed.
But even with such intensive care,
while all those foreign
predators roam at large,
the mainland is still a dangerous place
for much of australia's wildlife.
It seems unfair,
but the only safe place is on an island.
Luckily australia is surrounded with
thousands of islands, large and small.
Without these natural refuges,
a further nine mammal species would be
extinct in the jaws of mainland predators.
Barrow island, 80 km off
the northwest coast of australia,
has been separated from
the mainland for 7000 years.
No introduced animals have had a chance
to get here and trash the place,
and the difference it makes is enormous.
Here the natives can really relax.
There is such a wealth
of wildlife on barrow,
that it was made a nature
reserve a hundred years ago.
But there's a further twist to the tale.
Oil was found here in 1954,
in amounts too valuable to ignore.
This top class nature reserve
became a major oilfield.
Five hundred wells
sprang up across the island.
What would become of all the wildlife?
It seems they're doing pretty well!
The kangaroos that
live here are called euros,
and they thrive in the spinifex
among the pipework.
They're not at all shy,
and they'll even use
the mechanical structures
as shelter from the blistering
heat of the summer sun.
In this extraordinary place,
giants cruise around
the oil tanks quite unfazed.
Perenties are australia's biggest lizards,
and this perentie is after something.
On this desert island,
where fresh water is in short supply,
a dripping air conditioner is a luxury.
It's not easy to get a drink round here.
Rules are strict about how
the wildlife is treated on barrow -
no animals can be brought to the island,
and nothing can be taken away.
And some are doing even better here
than they would on the mainland.
At night,
when the oilmen have their supper,
strange nocturnal creatures emerge,
lured out by the smell of the barbie.
This is a golden bandicoot.
It used to be common on the mainland,
but introduced predators
virtually wiped it out.
Nowadays it's almost
only found on islands,
but there may be fifty thousand of them
living it up on barrow alone.
And this is a burrowing bettong,
a tiny kangaroo that
spends its days underground.
In fact, it's the world's
only burrowing kangaroo,
and it comes out at night to feed.
It too hangs by a thread on the mainland,
but here it's safe.
To watch these animals
fearlessly looking for scraps,
it's easy to see how effortlessly
a predator could pick them off.
But not here.
Australia's largest, most famous island
is also a wonderland of lost wildlife.
Tasmania too has long been
free of dingoes and foxes,
and it's a last sanctuary for
some remarkable animals.
This is the only place in the world
where tasmanian devils still live wild.
They've long been gone from the mainland,
but here they thrive as
they've always done,
living in tangled forests and screaming
at each other over scraps of carrion.
There are other oddities in the darkness -
strange spotted cat-like animals,
called tiger quolls.
They too are rare elsewhere.
But tasmania is no remote wilderness.
It's full of people,
and the wildlife has to take its chances
alongside towns, roads, and farms.
This is a busy sheep farm,
but it too has some surprises.
At night,
when all the farm workers have gone home,
strange things start
happening in the shed.
A tasmanian devil has been
sheltering under the floorboards.
And a tiger quoll has made
her home in the roof.
The quoll is raising her babies here,
and leaves them up in the rafters while
she comes down to find something to eat.
She and the devils wander
round the shed at night,
looking for food left by the farm workers.
Quolls are carnivores,
and she'd kill live prey with a bite
to the back of the neck.
But sometimes it's easier
to break into a lunch box.
Tasmanian devils too like to scavenge,
but it's not always quite that easy.
Devils will be devils,
and always ready for a bit of
a punch-up over a scrap.
But mostly it's just a lot of noise.
People and wildlife have become
entangled with each other.
Even in the heart of the busiest cities,
they are forced to live together.
The night sky of melbourne is filled every
night with thousands of enormous bats.
Grey-headed flying foxes, native
australians, are struggling in the wild,
because so much of their natural
forest habitat is being cleared.
Here in town,
they find everything they need.
Just a flight away,
there are orchards full of fruit,
exactly what these fruit bats love best.
And they have some exasperating habits.
The bats may take just one bite,
and then sample the next,
like a picky child,
leaving a trail of half-eaten fruit
and some very annoyed farmers.
At dawn they fly the 40 kilometres
or so back to town,
following the course of
the river and the roads.
They're heading back to roost for the day.
And this is where they chose.
Nearly 30 thousands bats took up residence
in a piece of imitation rainforest,
in melbourne's elegant botanic gardens.
Here in the garden it's a few degrees
warmer than the surrounding area,
and with so much food nearby
it suits them very nicely.
But this number of bats has
become too much for the trees.
Many of the plants here
are rare and fragile,
and none of them can stand the wear
and tear of so many hefty animals,
some of which can weigh a kilogram.
So here's a dilemma -
a botanic garden that wants
to preserve its precious trees,
and a native bat that's
on the endangered list.
There are ongoing efforts
to persuade the bats to leave
and settle somewhere else,
where they'll cause less havoc.
There's a strange love-hate relationship
between australia's wildlife and people.
Australian animals are
diverse and peculiar,
and while some have declined
in the face of human changes,
others have thrived and
are doing better than ever.
But for better or for worse,
there are few places in the world
where they are quite so familiar.
And in spite of the sophistication
of the australian way of life,
people still yearn to have
contact with wildlife.
In a land where almost
everyone lives in towns,
thousands of visitors pay to
watch a spectacle like this.
Every day, hundreds of rainbow lorikeets
fly in over the suburbs near brisbane
to one particular park.
These are completely wild birds,
only visiting to take
advantage of the fact
that people want to see them up close.
When they've finished their
free meal of artificial nectar,
the parrots will disappear
again to their roosts.
No-one is quite sure where they all go.
Humans encourage them,
and they're exploiting human generosity.
The first european settlers had such
little regard for the native wildlife
that they brought blackbirds
and nightingales from england,
to make the place feel more like home.
Now, two hundred years later,
there's a growing appreciation
for the remarkable
nature of the landscape and its animals.
Australia's people and
native wildlife are bound together,
and there's no going back.
In some places the land has
changed beyond recognition,
and dozens of unique animal
species will never be seen again.
But despite everything,
an incredible wealth of strange,
tenacious animals is still here.
Wildlife remains,
even in the heart of cities,
and wilderness is never far away.
Modern australia is still
a wild and special place.

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 05 Island Arks

2011-06-03T11:21:00.007+01:00

In the seas around australia, cataclysmic
forces have formed thousands of islands -
of all shapes and sizes,
from tiny tropical ones to giants
with huge snow capped peaks.
They stretch from
australia in a great arc,
from new guinea in the north,
right out into the pacific
and down to new zealand.
If australia itself seems strange,
its island relatives and their
unique creatures are stranger still.
No other continent has given birth
to such an explosion of fabulous island
landscapes and their weird wildlife.
So how did the dry, old giant, australia,
end up surrounded by such a glittering
necklace of wild ocean jewels?
Just a few thousand years ago,
the tip of northern australia
oozed out into a vast swampy plain that
stretched all the way to new guinea.
Today, in australia's top end,
you can still get an idea
of that great swamp
in a watery landscape called kakadu.
It's an oasis for water birds,
including huge flocks of magpie geese.
Kakadu's swamps are created
every year by monsoon floods.
They transform the parched
landscape into a rich,
living broth and millions of
water birds find it irresistible.
And something else finds
them irresistible too...
...the salt-water crocodile.
Muddy water provides the perfect
camouflage for these huge,
six metre long reptiles.
A magpie goose makes
a nice bite-sized snack.
It will probably last him a week.
Kakadu may be full of life,
but it can give us only a tiny glimpse of
what those enormous swamps of thousands
of years ago must have been like.
In those days, sea levels were much lower.
But about 10,000 years ago,
world sea levels rose
and the swamp was drowned by the ocean,
completely cutting off
new guinea from australia.
The tops of a few hills
survived the flooding,
and today, like stepping stones,
they lead a path from australia to
the giant new island of new guinea.
It was connected to the mainland
for millions of years -
but now, it couldn't look more different.
While much of australia is dusty and dry,
most of new guinea is covered
in lush tropical rainforest.
The landscape may look very different,
but the wildlife still has
that eccentric australian blend of
the improbable and the ingenious...
this is the long beaked echidna.
It's about twice the size
of its australian cousin.
It's also called the giant spiny anteater,
but it doesn't eat ants.
Instead, it uses its long nose
to probe for worms,
sniffing for them as it
wanders through the forest.
When it catches the merest whiff of
a worm, it uses its nose like a dibber,
poking it in and out of the ground
until it finds a snack.
To haul the worm in, it spears
it on a special barbed tongue...
...then up it goes,
like a piece of spaghetti.
Because new guinea was connected
to australia for so long,
it has a lot of familiar
australian animals,
like kangaroos.
But these are not your typical roos -
they live up in the forest canopy.
Although they spend
most of their time in trees,
they don't look very sure-footed.
But it's worth the effort.
There are no monkeys or squirrels
to compete with here,
so if the kangaroos can reach it,
the entire canopy of leaves
is there for the taking.
This baby will learn from its mother
about which leaves to eat...
...and which fruit or lichen
to round off the meal.
It's not an easy world for joeys
to learn to move about in
and they'll stick by their mothers
for up to two years
before they're ready to live on their own.
New guinea is covered in dramatic
mountains and it has australia,
one of the flattest continents
on earth, to thank.
Over millions of years,
australia has been drifting northwards
and new guinea has buckled up
under the pressure.
Some of these rise as high as 5000 metres,
into peaks of ice and snow.
These huge mountains have divided
the island into hundreds
of ridges and valleys.
Within these, an endless variety of
different landscapes have been created,
many with isolated pockets of
extraordinary and unique wildlife.
And you don't get much more extraordinary
than the birds of paradise.
Like animated neon signs,
these fabulously adorned
males advertise to females
in an explosion of colour and sound.
And in case this isn't eye catching
enough, they dance as well.
38 of the world's 42 species of bird
of paradise live only here.
Of all of these, the raggiana
must be amongst the most dazzling.
Males dance together on
a specially prepared stage,
which they've completely
cleared of leaves.
And this is who they're
desperate to please.
When these drab females arrive,
the males give it everything they've got.
Females are hard to satisfy
and they'll only mate with the male
who impresses them the most.
When a female flies in for a closer look,
it sends the males into a frenzy.
And when she finally makes her choice -
he's unstoppable.
He's laying it on a bit thick here...
...but she seems to like it.
These beautiful feathers
also make fabulous costumes
for the people of new guinea.
Each year, tribes from all over
the highlands gather in displays
that almost outdo the showmanship
of the birds themselves.
Hundreds of isolated
cultures have evolved here,
with as many different languages -
more than any other place on earth.
The dry landscape of australia couldn't
support great numbers of aborigines,
but the fertile mountains of new guinea
allowed the development
of settled agriculture
and a huge explosion
of peoples and cultures.
On this one island,
there are as many different ways of life
as there are valleys and mountainsides.
Many of these tribes were so isolated,
they weren't discovered by europeans
until the middle of the 20th century.
While australia was a harsh,
unpredictable place to survive in,
these mountain slopes
could not be more hospitable.
Over 9,000 years ago,
people started gardens here.
From plots like this, of sweet potato,
they've now manicured entire hillsides
into a patchwork of allotments.
Even so, large parts of the island
are too steep to cultivate.
Rugged cliffs and a lot of rain
keep these areas thick with forest.
Where there are gaps, waterfalls
plummet down to join streams below.
With so much rainfall, these streams
very quickly swell into rivers.
It's such a wet place; the rivers are
huge, twisting across vast floodplains.
The largest of them
has more water in it than all the rivers
in australia put together.
Eventually, they flow through extensive
deltas until they meet the ocean.
In these seas around new guinea,
hundreds of smaller island stretch out -
to the west, towards indonesia,
and eastwards, into the pacific.
Almost all of them are highly volcanic.
Violent eruptions literally blasted
new islands out of the sea.
These are some of the most
volcanically active islands on earth -
vanuatu, the solomons,
new ireland and new britain.
The volcanoes are on a sort
of geological conveyor belt -
new ones are continually being born,
and then worn away -
creating thousands of miles
of coastline for coral to grow on.
And as these islands begin to die
and sink back beneath the waves,
the tips of extinct volcanoes
form more coral reefs.
In just a single bay
on any of these reefs,
you could find as many coral species
and different kinds of fish
as there are on the whole
of the great barrier reef.
It's a kaleidoscope of life and colour,
with layer upon layer of species,
like an intricately
constructed russian doll.
Barrel sponges live on the corals...
...feather stars live on
the barrel sponges...
...and tiny fish live on
the feather stars.
Anemones here have anemone fish
and tiny little transparent shrimps.
And on some parts of the reef,
creatures move about in costume.
This little prawn masquerades
as a sea whip.
This tadpole sized pygmy sea horse
is disguised as a piece of coral.
From a distance, it's virtually invisible.
Some animals take
this deception even further.
These razor fish already wear beautiful
striped costumes to look like sea whips,
but they add to the disguise
by swimming vertically,
like a weird piece of performance art.
They only swim horizontally to dash
from one group of whips, to another.
It's safer to move about in disguise,
because this busy neighbourhood
attracts plenty of predators -
like these jacks.
They work the reef in gangs,
trying to flush out smaller fry.
But as they muscle in on a patch,
the neighbourhood dives for cover.
One bully heads underneath,
scaring all the fish out through the top,
while the other members of the gang
wait above... mouths open.
The gang does well with these tactics,
but they're just a bunch
of small time thugs -
not even in the same league
as some of the predators here...
huge saltwater crocodiles roam these seas.
They are capable of swimming great
distances to find new territories -
large ones have been seen several
hundred kilometres out to sea.
With this sort of range,
it's been easy for them to colonise many
of the volcanic islands of the pacific.
But while these islands have attracted
all sorts of marine life,
including crocodiles,
land creatures like mammals
have found it harder to get here.
Unless they can raft across or swim,
they're too far out.
But there has been one exception...
an invasion by air.
Squadrons of bats,
especially the larger fruit bats.
In fact, new guinea and the islands
that surround it are probably
the fruit bat capital of the world.
There are more species here
than anywhere else on earth.
These large fruit bats
are strong travellers -
they can fly fifty kilometres in
an evening in search of food.
Island hopping across the pacific
is all in a night's work.
It's well worth the journey
because the island forests
are full of all sorts of fruit.
With such a wide selection, there's room
for lots of different fruit specialists -
this tube nosed bat is
a professional fig eater.
As these bats move about
from island to island,
they can also act as seed couriers.
They make unorthodox postmen though,
opening their parcels with strong teeth
and either dropping their contents
where they eat, or swallowing
and depositing them,
perhaps on another island.
Beyond this chain of islands,
the explosive activity begins to die away.
And further out in the pacific,
there's a graveyard of extinct volcanoes.
One of these is lord howe island.
It retired from life as an active volcano
about 6 million years ago.
A small speck in a vast expanse of ocean,
it's become a valuable service station
for thousands of sea birds.
Each spring,
it transforms into seabird city.
Fourteen different species
stop here to nest and breed,
like this booby...
...and noddy terns too.
Above them, the skies are filled
with acrobatic tumblers,
tropic birds in full display.
The males are busy trying to impress
a mate and outdo each other,
by performing a series of
extraordinary backward loops.
The sooty tern is more graceful.
They arrive in their thousands,
to breed and bring up their chicks.
But with so many crammed onto this island,
how on earth does a parent
find the right mouth to feed?
And how does this chick make sure
it doesn't miss out on a meal?
That one's getting pilchard...
and another's got a lump of squid...
this is getting difficult to watch...
he's got squid as well.
At last, the hungry chick
calls out for room service,
and he's located by one of his parents.
The response is instant, and at last
he gets a lump of his own to choke on.
Australia has island relatives
further out, even than lord howe.
This is new caledonia -
captain cook called it
that because it reminded him of scotland.
Jurassic park might be more appropriate.
New caledonia didn't erupt from
the seabed, like the other islands.
It's an ancient chunk
of eastern australia,
that broke off about
80 million years ago -
a lost world, so old and strange,
you could almost believe
that dinosaurs still live here.
In fact, at the time it broke away,
many of these plants would
have been eaten by dinosaurs.
But this island is so remote,
there are no land mammals here.
After 80 million years of isolation,
new caledonia is still ruled by reptiles.
Its modern masters are lizards,
geckos and skinks.
New caledonia has more species of lizard
for its size than probably
anywhere else on earth.
And new caledonia has its own monster -
the giant gecko.
It's as big as a rat,
the largest gecko in the world,
with a ferocious reputation to match.
This really is the land of the lizard.
Over 80 per cent of
the species here are unique.
At the same time that
new caledonia broke away,
an even larger chunk of australia
drifted off and floated right down
towards the southern ocean.
It eventually became new zealand.
It lies on the edge of
the australian continental plate,
which drops away into the really
deep water of the pacific ocean proper -
so deep that sperm whales come
to feed right on its doorstep.
And because new zealand sits at
a crossroads of cold and warm currents,
it's a magnet for
all sorts of marine life.
Dusky dolphins are one of many species of
dolphin that play in these deep waters.
They are some of the most
acrobatic of all dolphins -
if one starts to somersault
and spin out of the water,
the whole group joins in.
Although new zealand broke off from
australia about eighty million years ago,
it's still drifting across the ocean
creating huge geological forces.
It's a highly active piece
of the earth's crust.
Fire and steam seep to
the surface from volcanoes,
mud pools and explosive geysers.
This long history of violent
geology has contorted
the islands into a spectacular
variety of landscapes.
These southern alps are
4000 metres high and still rising.
It's as if this part of new zealand
never escaped the ice age.
It could not be more inhospitable here.
And yet...
...it's a mountain parrot.
The only alpine parrot in the world
to live right up in the snow.
And they seem to enjoy it.
They're called keas and to survive up
here, these birds aren't just hardy.
They need to be sharp operators
to live on these harsh mountains.
To learn all the tricks
they'll need to survive,
they have extended childhoods
and live for up to 20 years.
So there's plenty of time to play.
Monkeying around on the slopes like this,
they seem more like primates than parrots.
These alpine keas are unique
to new zealand...
in fact, after such long isolation,
most of new zealand's wildlife
and plants are unique.
This is a place that does weird wildlife
better than anywhere else...
and one of the strangest creatures of all,
hunts in the forest, at night.
It has fur-like feathers and
it sniffs out its food like a mammal.
It even keeps its body temperature
at the level of a mammal.
But it's a flightless bird.
New zealand seems to excel
in these oddball birds -
and the kiwi has to be one of the oddest
balls of fluff on the forest floor.
There are no ground living mammals here,
so when the kiwi auditioned for
the part of hedgehog or badger,
it got the job - sniffing out grubs
and worms, just like they would.
Sometimes it goes fishing for shrimp
in the forest streams.
It even has whiskers, like a cat.
And like many mammals,
the males hold territories,
and defend them by calling.
But when it comes
to looking after the eggs,
male kiwis are different
from most animals.
The males take on the job
of incubating them, all alone.
And they do this in underground burrows.
This father has a newly hatched youngster
and an egg that still needs incubating.
Kiwis lay enormous eggs -
the largest of any bird,
relative to its size -
and they take ten weeks to hatch.
It's not always easy to sit still,
with a toddler constantly
messing up the nursery.
This chick is probably
pestering for food -
and if it is, it'll be disappointed.
Male kiwis are dedicated incubators,
but meals are not included.
Eventually, this youngster will become
hungry enough to leave the nest
and look for food itself.
Some of new zealand's strangest creatures
live down here on the forest floor.
The weta - the world's largest cricket.
Just as the kiwi fills
the role of a hedgehog,
the weta is new zealand's
answer to a mouse.
And just like a mouse,
it forages around amongst the leaf litter.
But whatever role it fills,
it still looks like a big juicy insect
and it had better watch out.
In this strange forest,
even the bats do things differently.
These short-tailed bats are beginning
to spend less and less time in the air,
and more and more time on the ground -
doing their impression of a mole.
Just like some of the birds,
they seem to be becoming flightless
and prefer burrowing under
the leaf litter for grubs and insects.
These bats are hardly
bigger than the wetas,
but a jumbo-sized snack like
this is too good to miss.
The weta puts up quite a fight,
but eventually the bat gets its meal.
New zealand's strangeness has a lot to do
with its long isolation from
the rest of the world.
And that's also why it took so long
to be discovered by people.
It was only a thousand years ago
that the first polynesians paddled
their way from hawaii and settled here.
They began to make
changes to the landscape
but nothing like
what was to come later on...
europeans arrived here only 200 years ago,
but in that time,
they have transformed it.
Forests have been replaced by fields
and roads, towns and modern cities.
Almost every corner of new zealand
now has felt the influence
of the modern world -
even the remote southern
alps are now buzzing with skiers.
And the wildlife, once so isolated,
has had to adapt.
For the keas, at least,
this has not been difficult.
An invasion of brightly coloured human
beings is like a dream come true.
The arrival of crowds like these
just widens their scope for fun.
And always on the lookout
for something to eat
they've learnt some new tricks as well.
Younger keas roam about like
gangs of delinquent teenagers.
And of course,
as any teenager will tell you,
the place to hang out is the car park.
There are plenty of things
to dismantle here -
rubber trim is easy...
...but these ski racks are more difficult.
They're just doing what comes naturally -
making a detailed investigation
of the world around them.
But even though they enjoy the party,
new zealand is becoming
too crowded, even for keas.
For many of the rest of new zealand's
birds, man's arrival has been devastating.
Even though humans rarely visit
valleys and forests like these,
the cats, stoats and rats
they brought with them have all
but massacred the local bird population.
And another animal has invaded
forests throughout new zealand...
...the australian brush-tailed possum.
It may look cuddly -
but when 90 million of them bulldoze
their way through every forest,
eating eggs and chicks,
they cause complete havoc.
None of these animals belong here
and all of them have had a devastating
effect on the wildlife,
especially on the unique birds.
When explorers first came to new zealand,
they described the dawn
chorus as deafening -
now, these same forests are almost silent.
But new zealand has 700 smaller islands
scattered around its coastline.
Many of these are rarely
visited by people,
and on some the cats,
stoats, possums and rats
that have exterminated so much
wildlife everywhere else,
have been kept way.
These islands are now the last refuge
for some of new zealand's rarest birds.
This is the kakapo and it has
every reason to look depressed.
It's a flightless relative of the kea,
and although it's
the world's largest parrot,
it's also the world's
slowest breeding bird.
It may raise a chick successfully
only once every ten years.
Today, it survives on just
a couple of offshore islands,
and only because of a huge conservation
campaign to keep it alive.
Biologists feed the adults...
...and monitor their chicks
round the clock.
In fact, they keep the entire population
of kakapos in intensive care.
Every nest has its own 24-hour security,
complete with cctv.
Miniature cameras inside the nest
record every last move.
Each bird gets its own personal diary.
This military style campaign
is beginning to work.
By giving them this backup,
the kakapo population has increased
from just a handful of birds
to over 100 in just a few years.
These offshore islands are also vital for
many more of new zealand's unique birds.
This is a kokako...
...and this is a nectar eating tui.
And here's yet another
relative of the kea -
a kaka.
It's a forest parrot, and it lives
nowhere else but new zealand.
In these island forests there are
even penguins amongst the trees.
The new zealand that
so excited early explorers,
with its bustling variety
and deafening choruses,
seems to have found a last sanctuary
on these smaller offshore islands.
This is what much of new zealand
might have been like
before the invaders arrived.
Even ground nesting birds, like penguins,
can relax as they used to.
They can raise their chicks here
in relative peace.
Some of these islands seem
almost overloaded with birds -
here the bushes bubble with thousand
upon thousand of shearwaters.
They still live in massive colonies.
New zealand's offshore islands
are bursting with unique wildlife.
They're like a microcosm of
the whole extraordinary island
chain around australia.
Strung out across the sea, from the cold
southern ocean almost to the equator,
nowhere else in the world can you see
such a variety of
different kinds of islands.
Lost worlds, full of ancient treasures.
Every one of them a unique gem -
the island jewels of australia.

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 04 Gum Tree Country

2011-06-03T11:21:00.005+01:00

In this driest of continents
there's a vast green landscape
that stretches for thousands of kilometers
round australia's edge.
This is the australian bush -
its most characteristic landscape.
The first european settlers,
pushing through it 200 years ago,
didn't like the bush.
It was daunting and alien,
and so big you could get lost and die.
In these hot, endless forests,
the very trees seemed to droop - these,
they said, were 'forests in rags'.
And from one end of
the country to another,
they all looked strangely alike.
Because these thousands of kilometers
of green are dominated
by just one kind of tree -
the eucalypt, or gum tree.
And around these trees live australia's
oddest and most charismatic animals.
The eucalypt has transformed itself
into 700 different species,
some growing monstrously tall.
Some thrive in the baking north,
some in the chilly south,
and some even grow in the snow.
Wherever they find a foothold,
gum trees attract a vast
assortment of wildlife.
Australia is the eucalypt's native home -
it was born here.
But how has this peculiar tree managed to
spread itself over the entire continent?
And why is it that
so much lives around it?
Fifty million years ago,
when the climate was wetter,
much of australia was
covered in rainforest.
In this lush land eucalypts
barely existed.
But the continent was gradually drying out
and the eucalypts seized their chance.
Far better able to cope with the harsh new
conditions, they rushed out and thrived.
Now eucalypt bushland encircles
australia in an almost unbroken line.
But in this vast land every gum-tree
landscape is different.
The tropical north is
crocodile dundee country,
where the year swings between
months of crackling
dryness and weeks of pouring rain.
It's a hot and sultry place.
But eucalypts thrive here.
And up in these trees live big
and watchful lizards.
A frilled lizard can spot its
prey from 3 metres up a tree.
All it has to do then is
jump down and catch it.
For their size and big teeth,
frilled lizards have moderate tastes.
They eat almost nothing but insects.
A good feeding area like
this is worth hanging onto.
A frilled lizard won't tolerate
a rival in its territory.
Competing males hiss and lash their tails,
raising their frills to make themselves
look bigger than they really are.
But it's dangerous down
there on the ground.
Whistling kites eat frilled
lizards round here.
All that frill-waving
and hissing forgotten,
the lizards make a two-legged dash
back to the safety of their trees.
The eucalypt's rough bark helps them
get a grip as they climb.
Once safely back up there,
they make themselves look as small
and inconspicuous as possible.
And for 90% of their lives,
this is where they stay,
using the gum trees as
lookout posts and bolt-holes.
In these tropical northern woodlands,
the temperature most days
can top 30 degrees celsius.
But australia is a land
of enormous contrasts.
Move from the far north to the far south,
at the same time of year,
and the change couldn't be more extreme.
Here it's mountainous,
and metres deep in snow.
Australia is so big,
it can have baking heat in one place
and winter in another.
And eucalypts can cope with both.
On the ancient mountains of
australia's southern alps
grow woodlands of snow gums.
They can tolerate temperatures
as low as minus 20,
twisted and dwarfed by
the wind and the cold.
And in these snowy uplands, among
these hardy trees, there are parrots.
Gang-gang cockatoos feast on
the eucalypt's hard seed capsules,
cracking them open
with their strong beaks.
Many birds move to lower ground in winter,
but gang-gangs brave the cold to take
advantage of this valuable food.
Up here, the weather
can quickly turn nasty.
The mountains are snowbound
for months of the year.
This is no place for wimps.
But wombats, with their thick fur,
trudge out to dig for grass
buried under the snow.
And up in the trees
the gang-gangs keep on feeding,
even with their jaunty
feathers all caked in ice.
The red-headed males, grey-headed females
and blushing juveniles pick away
together at the gum tree feast.
Australia's south-eastern mountains
trap the cold and soaking air
that blows in from the southern seas.
Moisture falls as snow and rain.
Australia may be the driest
inhabited continent on earth,
but here there's plenty of water.
And on the lower slopes
of these misty mountains,
the trees grow monumentally tall.
With wetter weather
and slightly better soil,
they reach a height of
more than a hundred metres.
Towering above the rest
of the forest greenery,
these trees can grow over a metre a year.
These are the tallest
hardwood trees in the world -
and they're eucalypts.
The first british settlers
called them mountain ash,
because they were homesick
for the old country.
And they do have the feeling
of lush european forests -
until the inhabitants turn up.
From the dense,
damp undergrowth comes a strange recital.
Not a flock of different birds,
but just one.
The superb lyrebird is striking up.
Male lyrebirds mimic
the other birds around them,
pulling their songs together
into an impressive repertoire.
Wattlebirds, honeyeaters,
whipbirds, kookaburras -
he does them all!
His powerful voice can carry as much
as a kilometre through the forest.
Clearing a stage for himself
on a mound of earth,
he belts out his performance.
All this effort is to attract
as many females as possible,
and he'll carry on like this for hours.
When darkness falls, and the
lyrebirds are asleep up in the trees,
a different set of wildlife emerges.
Mountain ash can live to be 300 years old,
and many are full of holes.
At night, these holes
produce some curious animals.
Australia has no monkeys -
instead it has these.
They're possums,
and just after dark they come out
of their gum tree nests, to feed.
Tiny leadbeater's possums zip
through the lower trees
looking for insects and sap.
They're sociable animals,
and eight or more
may share a single hollow.
Hollow eucalypts are desirable homes,
but to live in these big trees
you have to be agile.
Mountain brush-tailed possums
are far bigger and slower,
but they're competent climbers.
They're tree-dwellers,
but they spend a fair bit of time
on the forest floor,
coming down in the darkness
to eat fungi and fallen seeds.
It's tricky enough having to negotiate
these dense trees by yourself,
but imagine what it's like having
to haul a baby around with you.
This female has carried her baby
in her pouch for six months,
and it will ride on her back
for another two.
But alongside her,
and safe from attack by owls,
it learns all the skills
it will need for a life on its own.
For now it can feast on fallen seeds,
and it might even have a quick suckle
while mum's busy grooming herself
with her huge tree-climber's feet.
And before daylight comes,
mother and baby will disappear into
the safety of their gum tree den.
These giant eucalypts thrive here
because there's more water,
and fractionally better soil,
than in other parts of australia.
But though eucalypts do well
in the wetter fringes of the land,
they don't just stop there.
The further you move inland,
the more arid the scenery becomes.
The typical australian landscape
is hot, dry and sandy,
not an easy place to put down roots.
But gum trees pop up almost everywhere.
They grow alongside
trickles of inland rivers,
where there's barely any water flowing,
putting down deep roots to suck
what moisture there is.
They grow in the outback,
where conditions couldn't be
more different from the misty highlands.
Here there's only a tenth of the rainfall,
and the soil is thin,
worn down by sheer age.
A white trunk reflects
the glare of the sun,
and leaves hang down to avoid overheating.
But when daytime
temperatures climb to 40 plus,
red kangaroos are grateful
for even this thin shade.
Once parked, a big red
will spend its day under the trees,
until the sun goes down
and the land cools again.
Even here, among the red rocks of
the centre, gum trees have a toehold.
This most ethereal tree is a ghost gum,
and it grows in australia's heart.
It clings to crumbling gorges,
where water is scarce and
only the hardiest survive.
This is one tough tree.
But even the scrawniest of eucalypts
in the most desiccated
places have a surprise.
They produce the most beautiful,
nectar-filled flowers.
The colours and shapes are as
diverse as the trees themselves,
each attractive to
different animal visitors.
Many flowers are cup-shaped,
allowing insects inside
to gather pollen and nectar.
Blossoms appear on different trees
at different times of the year,
providing an ever-moving feast.
Lorikeets and honeyeaters are
energetic nectar specialists,
always on the lookout for
new flowers to drink at.
Eucalypts are such a draw
that flying foxes in the tropical north
will fly fifty kilometres every night,
moving from flowering tree
to flowering tree to feed.
In return for this feast of nectar,
the trees use these big bats as couriers,
covering them in pollen,
which they'll pass on to the flowers
of next tree they visit.
Even if you can't fly,
eucalypt flowers are worth the climb.
The tiny western pygmy possum in
southern australia emerges at nightfall.
It eats plenty of insects,
but it's also very partial to nectar.
Weighing little more than a boiled sweet,
and not much bigger than
the flowers themselves,
it laps up the nectar with
a tongue shaped like a little brush.
This possum is a strictly
nocturnal animal.
Come the dawn,
it retires to its tree-hollow nest -
made of gum leaves.
Nectar is cheap for these trees
to produce, and they give it away freely.
But their leaves are another story.
They're precious in a land
where nutrients are in short supply,
and the eucalypts do their best
to hang on to them.
They're hard, and full of toxic chemicals,
including the oils,
which give them their distinctive smell.
It's enough to stop most animals
eating them, but not all.
And this is the classic gum eater.
In fact it doesn't eat much else.
Koalas evolved with the eucalypts,
and they're just about able
to cope with their leaves,
thanks to a large and
complicated digestive system.
But it has to be careful -
before it eats,
it has a sniff to check
the chemical strength.
And those leaves are so hard,
it has to chew more than sixteen thousand
times a day to break them down.
An old koala will eventually
wear out its teeth completely.
It's all such hard work
for so little nutrients,
that koalas have to sleep
for 20 hours a day,
just to save energy.
This is a highly specialised way of life.
A tiny baby koala,
barely out of the pouch,
won't be able to cope with eating
gum leaves straight away.
First it must have a snack of
its mother's special droppings.
Disgusting as it may seem,
the baby koala wouldn't survive otherwise.
By eating 'pap',
it's taking in vital bacteria
passed from its mother's gut,
which will later help
it digest those leaves.
It's a bit like eating live yoghurt.
When you're this tiny, it's sometimes
hard to work out which way is up,
which is especially hazardous
when you're ten metres above the ground.
And koala mothers are pretty laid-back
when it comes to childcare.
But at six months, this baby has
to get used to a life in the trees.
If it's lucky it will live
to be fifteen years old.
Young koalas stay dependent on
their mothers for a whole year,
but as they grow,
they start to become more adventurous.
In spite of the hazards,
most koalas survive their childhood,
and the bond with their mothers
is usually broken only
when she gives birth to her next baby.
Koalas don't make dens,
so a mother has nowhere that
she can leave her offspring in safety.
The only option is to carry it round
with her as she moves from tree to tree.
Most mothers carry
their children on their back,
but others have slightly
more unconventional ways.
And when your baby can be
a quarter of your weight,
that's a lot to heave around.
It's all very hard work.
Gum trees tend to grow
widely spaced apart -
but there are other woodland dwellers
that seem to have cracked
the problem of getting around.
They glide.
A yellow-bellied glider can sail
as far as 120 metres from tree to tree,
making strange noises in the night.
It spends its days inside hollow trees,
only emerging when darkness falls.
A cape of skin stretches from wrists to
ankles, and this is what gives it lift.
As it comes in to land,
it swings its limbs forward,
touching down with all four feet together.
Gripping toes and big claws
help it to hang on.
It's out and about to feed.
Yellow-bellied gliders
are fond of insects,
and eucalypt nectar when they can get it.
But they also bite notches in the bark
of trees and eat the oozing sap,
often in the company of a few relatives.
On such a meagre diet,
gliding is a low-energy way to travel.
This is an economical place.
Eucalypts are almost all evergreen,
and evergreen leaves are expensive to
produce when soil nutrients are low.
But they do last for a good long time.
Eucalypts stand dusty and ragged,
with leaves that may be several years old.
And even when they do fall, something
is sure to want to put them to good use.
In the arid gum-tree shrublands
of southern australia,
the mallee fowl is busy.
The female has laid her eggs in a huge
mound of soil and dead leaves
that she and her mate have
carefully scraped into shape.
As this pile rots down, the heat
generated incubates the buried eggs.
Too much or too little heat
and the eggs will die,
so the birds keep on adjusting the mound
to keep it at a steady 34 degrees.
Both birds have temperature
sensors in their mouths -
a quick taste keeps things monitored.
Two months after they're laid,
the eggs begin to hatch.
The chick bursts out and
starts its journey upwards.
When you're buried a metre down,
this is no picnic.
It can take two days
to get to the surface,
and it gets no help
at all from its parents.
This is one tough little chick!
When it finally gets out,
it's able to walk immediately,
and it toddles off into the bush.
It can even feed itself,
and it'll be able to fly within a day.
It's just as well it's so self-sufficient,
because from now on, it's on its own.
And with all those dry,
dead leaves around,
the bush is a dangerous place to be...
of all that gum trees have to endure,
this surely seems the most devastating.
Australia's landscape has been
dramatically shaped by fires.
They happen right across the country -
and in some areas very frequently.
Whether started by lightning
or careless matches,
bushfires are a fact of life.
In dry conditions,
the fires quickly take hold.
Strips of bark peel away in flames,
carried off in the wind to start new fires
as much as thirty kilometres away.
In eucalypt woodlands the litter
that collects round the trees
is highly flammable,
and can create a fire as hot as
a thousand degrees centigrade.
It may look like a disaster for the trees,
but the bizarre truth is,
eucalypts seem to encourage their
surroundings to burst into flames.
Many have thick and insulating bark,
able to withstand all
but the most ferocious fires.
Some gums actually need a really
good blaze to release their seeds,
and provide a fertile bed of ash
on which they'll later sprout.
This dry old country has been
burning like this for millennia.
Although it may not look like it,
the gum-trees have
the situation well under control.
And this devastation is a prelude
to something quite remarkable.
Within weeks of a fire that
seems to have killed them,
many gum trees start popping
out fresh green shoots.
They grow from buds underneath the bark,
where they'd been protected
from the intense heat.
Bare and blackened branches
are suddenly green again,
and the trees carry on as normal.
It's almost like a magic trick.
In this volatile country,
eucalypts seem able to cope with anything.
To add to the damage
begun by fire and rain,
they are chewed away
by millions of termites.
Australia's gum trees are among
the most termite-ridden in the world.
Some are completely hollowed out by
the activities of these little insects.
But with so many termites around,
there are other animals ready to eat them.
Including these.
They're numbats and they live in the
woodlands of australia's southwest.
Numbats have tiny mouths and their
teeth are not particularly effective.
But as they only eat termites,
all they need is a good sense
of smell and the right tongue -
sticky, manoeuvrable, and very, very long.
It can flick termites into its
mouth and swallow them whole.
Most of australia's small
mammals are nocturnal,
but numbats don't get out of bed
until the sun has warmed the ground,
and the termites are active
just below the surface.
Numbats are solitary animals,
but these are young ones,
out and about together.
When they're old enough
they'll feed on their own,
like their parents,
getting through 20,000 termites a day.
These youngsters will stay
together for a few months,
learning to fend for themselves.
Until then, the slightest danger,
real or imaginary,
will send them fleeing to their den,
in the safety of a gum tree hollow.
Hollow trees are
a real feature of the bush.
There was once a man
who lived inside a giant gum tree -
and raised a family of four there.
Tall trees, strange tales.
There is a particular type of gum
that thrives on the banks of
the murray river of southern australia.
The river red gum grows here
in enormous forests,
and some of the trees
may be 500 years old.
The oldest trees are full of holes,
and they're especially
popular with parrots.
Regent parrots make their homes here.
In the breeding season,
the male brings food to the female,
who is never far away from the nest.
And that nest may be more than
five metres down inside the tree.
It may seem like hard work to have
to climb so far, but it's sensible -
it protects the eggs and
young from the elements,
and from other hazards.
There are thieves around.
Given the chance, a lace monitor would
easily make a meal of an egg or a chick.
In the nesting season,
they're a major part of its diet.
And it knows where they live...
the danger passes, and the lace monitor
turns its attentions elsewhere.
These gum tree forests flank the river
for hundreds of kilometres,
and they're full of wildlife.
Some of it has the oddest behaviour.
When night falls,
a strange, savage little marsupial
makes its appearance.
It's a yellow-footed antechinus.
The size of a mouse, it's a voracious
and feisty little carnivore.
Thus fortified, this male
has a busy time ahead of him.
It's a bizarre life cycle.
These animals have just one short,
sharp mating season,
and competition for females
during that time is so strong
that the males even give up food.
Each mating can last twelve hours,
and it's a bit of a free for all,
with the females having
a pretty rough time of it.
The stress is all so much that
after 2 weeks of frantic activity,
all the males drop dead.
The pregnant females are
left to carry on alone -
...but with the males out of the way,
it does mean there will be more food
left for mother and the kids.
It's a perilous environment, this gum
tree bushland - in more ways than one.
These giant old red gums have
been nicknamed 'widow-makers'.
And this is why.
They have an alarming tendency
to drop their branches,
without warning, on the calmest of days.
The wood is so heavy that if it falls
into the river, it sinks like a stone.
And so the river is full of 'snags' -
a tangle of fallen branches
and collapsed trees.
But even these drowned
limbs have their uses.
Waterbirds use them as lookout posts.
These underwater woodlands
are also the perfect hideout
for australia's biggest freshwater fish.
The murray cod can reach more than
a metre long - even bigger,
if fishermen's tales are true -
and weigh more than a man.
Under these snags
it can hide from predators,
rest from the flow of the river
and shelter from the sun,
while it lives to be a hundred years old.
In the australian bush,
even the fish live in trees.
The murray river is shallow
and the banks are low.
Once every few years,
when spring rains are especially heavy,
and snow melts fast
in the mountains upstream,
the big river breaks its banks.
And it moves into the surrounding forest.
It looks like a beautiful disaster.
But the bushland inhabitants
are surprisingly adaptable.
When put to it, a kangaroo can swim.
And the gum trees themselves
are perfectly at home.
In this dry place,
where rainfall is generally so low,
these big trees would die of thirst
without floods from time to time.
For now, they can drink deep and
put on a spurt of green growth.
For a while, the forest is
transformed into a wetland -
a maze of swamps and billabongs.
Where just a few days ago
kangaroos browsed in grassy clearings,
now there are spoonbills and
egrets fishing among the trees.
Floods like these are less frequent
than they once were.
The murray's flow has been
altered by people,
because the water was needed elsewhere.
But when they do happen,
the results are spectacular.
The wildlife is tuned
to events like these.
Fish begin to breed,
and thousands of waterbirds are prompted
to start nesting around the flooded trees.
This is the driest inhabited
continent in the world,
and yet here are kangaroos
up to their knees in water!
The australian bush is nothing
if not contradictory.
The first european settlers had dismissed
these vast green swathes
as just 'forests in rags'.
But as they got to grips with
the curious land, the bush,
with its resilience and strange wildlife,
became the essence of australia.
It's a land of pioneers,
where adaptability and tenacity
are the keys to survival.
And gum trees seem to suit it very well.

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 03 Southern Seas

2011-06-03T11:21:00.002+01:00

Australia...
the land of sun, sea and surf...
its golden shores are a magnet for
beach lovers and thrill seekers.
Millions flock to explore
the world's biggest coral reef.
But while the great barrier reef
and sydney harbour
are the classic images of
the australian way of life,
they're just the beginning.
Leave behind those playgrounds
of the crowded east coast,
and there's a much wilder
party going on out there.
This continent has a coastline
that stretches from the hot northern
tropics to the icy south.
And all around are seas with the
most astonishing variety of life.
But these waters are
challenging places to live...
...only the toughest survive...
catching a wave is the easy bit.
The seas around australia are
as harsh as the land itself.
Only in very special places has
marine-life overcome the odds.
The great barrier reef is
the one everyone knows,
but there's another coral extravaganza
on the other side of australia.
Here, the land is a desert
and it hardly ever rains.
There are no rivers
flushing mud into the sea,
and so the water stays crystal clear.
It's perfect for growing corals ¡ v
and all a stone's throw from the beach.
Sandwiched between the desert
shore and the open ocean,
ningaloo reef is 260
kilometres of coral oasis.
The outer reef wall encloses
a self-contained world.
Life thrives in the warmth
of the sheltered lagoon.
When conditions are this good
baby striped catfish gobble
like mad to get a head start.
But until they've grown up,
they roll around the reef together.
This way they look bigger and
scarier than they would on their own.
All the raw ingredients for life as
a catfish - or as anything else -
are trapped within the lagoon.
Until the autumn storms...
when the nutrition-packed reef-water
spills out into the open sea.
For just a brief period
the lifeless waters outside
become a nourishing soup...
and dinner guests arrive out of the blue.
It's a whale shark.
These giant ocean cruisers
make long treks,
because food is so hard to find out
in the clear tropical seas.
But they can be sure of getting
a spot of lunch round here.
Ningaloo is the only place in the world
where you can see them
feeding so close to shore.
Whale sharks aren't the only ones
who've marked this event
in their biological diary.
Vast shoals of sardines appear out of the
indian ocean to join ningaloo's feast.
They're tailed by
predatory dog tooth tuna.
Sharks appear. They're usually loners.
But they'll gang up for a party like this.
Sharks and tuna work the shoals together,
like dogs rounding up sheep...
until they've pinned them against
the shore in one massive, tight slick.
The sardines look like easy meat,
but the slick is now a solid wall of fish.
It's hard for the predators
to know where to start.
Every time the sharks plough in,
the little fish do their
parting-the-waves trick.
It's a dazzling defence.
Tuna are like snipers; they pick off
fish from the edge of the huddle.
But it's hard for the sharks.
They can't get a grip on the vast,
darting shoal.
The bait-ball is squeezed tighter and
tighter and even the sharks can't miss.
Then more heavyweight diners show up.
The sardine shoal is now
virtually on the beach,
so surely out of reach
of a huge brydes whale.
The sharks are finally making
a dent in the shoal,
but it's nothing to what these monstrous
whales can cram into their mouths.
When the food runs out,
the bounty hunters will drift away
and the sea around here
will return to hard times.
Australia's northwest coast
is pretty impoverished
and little fertile pockets
like ningaloo are rare.
But there are other surprises.
Further south,
there's a giant inlet called shark bay.
It's surrounded by desert,
and under a blazing sun,
seawater evaporates off quicker
than a boiling billycan.
In the inner reaches of the bay
the concentrated water is twice
as salty as the sea.
And it doesn't get much tougher than that.
There's nothing in this brine
for these jellyfish to eat,
so they've come up with
a clever way to cope.
Their tissues contain
millions of plant cells
that convert sunlight directly into food.
These jellies are solar-powered.
And since few predators can cope
with living in this salty world,
they're unhassled and free
to just soak up the sun.
The shape of the coast has
created a natural harbour -
but on an aussie scale.
Inside is a place like no other.
Meadows of sea-grass
ripple over the seabed -
these are the greatest underwater
prairies on the planet.
Grass can tough it out anywhere -
even in salty water.
In fact, here it's perfect.
The bay is calm,
uniformly shallow, sunlit -
and the sandy bottom
is ideal for grass roots.
So it's sea grass all the way.
This lush, sunny grassland is
the foundation of all life here.
There's plenty of food for sea horses...
...and hiding places for
the small and inexperienced.
It's the tiny animals
living around the stalks,
as much as the grass itself
that offer such a good living
to so many types of fish.
Some look bizarre.
The moth fish may seem over-designed,
in its armour plating,
but it has to careful of enemies.
One bite from a venomous
sea snake would be lethal.
But these are the real
monsters of shark bay.
And they've spawned
myths of giant proportions.
Once upon a time,
people thought they were mermaids.
But it must have taken a desperate
sailor to dream that one up.
They're actually dugongs,
vegetarian sea-mammals,
and there are over 10,000
of them in shark bay.
There might be even more
if it weren't for the tiger sharks
that give the bay its name.
Babies stick close to mum.
They're sometimes called sea cows
because they graze for eight hours a day.
And they need a huge gut
to digest all that grass.
No wonder they look portly.
Like all mammals they have to take
a breath from time to time.
No worries in sea rarely
deeper than 10 metres.
Thanks to the meadows of sea-grass
they lead a sheltered and stately life.
Without the unusual shape of the coast,
shark bay would be a sandy wasteland;
much like the desert that surrounds it.
Up north there's another natural hot spot,
but forged from a very
different set of conditions.
Every year australia's top end is
battered by the tropical monsoon.
The weather is wild and
the currents are wicked.
The ocean is funnelled violently
through a bottleneck -
the shallow straits between australia
and the islands of indonesia.
The resulting tidal bulge is the
highest anywhere in the tropics...
and it really stirs things up.
At low tide,
the sea drops a massive 12 metres,
leaving the top end of australia as one
vast steamy plain of mud and mangrove.
The heavy monsoon rains have
another vitalising effect -
they flush out rich silt from the rivers,
and the coastal plains
get a thick layer of mud.
These muddy flats ooze with life...
and it's all desperate for cover
now the tide's gone out.
And here's why.
But with only six hours of feeding
time till the tide comes in again,
mudskippers, golden ghost crabs and
wading birds have to start in top gear.
They're all desperate to get
down to the water's edge,
where the receding tide
has exposed a slap up feast.
A million migrating birds
re-fuel by sifting the warm silt
for worms, snails and shellfish.
Some have travelled over
15000 kilometres to feed here,
because these are the richest
tidal mud flats in the world.
But like a gold rush,
things can get lawless.
Sanderlings aren't above
a bit of daylight robbery.
But the villains of the beach...
are the seagulls.
On an exposed mud flat it's impossible
to keep your treasures to yourself.
This sand eel is quite a prize.
There's just no justice round here.
And with the returning tide the crab
has no time to make up for his loss.
While crabs can dig in
under the racing tide...
waders have to cosy-up
at the top of a shrinking beach.
At high tide the sea is brimming again,
and all you can see is a desert shore.
But a few hours later
the tide will recede,
the mudflats revealed,
and the action will start all over again.
Northern australia sits under the tropics.
Like a massive generator
it drives the climate of the land
but it also has a powerful
effect on australia's seas.
The leeuwin current is a river
of warm water from the north
that pumps down the west coast working
its way into the cooler seas of the south.
It brings a lick of tropical warmth,
but it doesn't bring any nutrients.
They've already been used up
by other marine life.
This warm, empty current snakes
into the great australian bight -
the broad bay that arcs around
australia's southern side.
These coastal seas
should be heaving with life -
as full of fish as the north atlantic.
The cliffs should be screaming with
nesting sea birds. But they're not.
The leeuwin current drives
a wedge of tepid water
between the coast and
the adjacent southern ocean.
As a result the sea's as
infertile as the land above.
Only extreme animals can live down here.
To find enough food
this australian sea lion
has just returned from three days
of long dives along the coast.
By any seal standards that's a marathon...
...so on the last leg
she deserves an easy ride in.
She tells her pup she's back.
It's desperate for a feed.
They can only live here because of the
unconventional way they bring up the pups.
These babies are huge!
Other young seals would have
been weaned long ago,
but australian sea-lion pups suckle
for over a year and a half,
way longer than their relatives.
A good, fat start is the only way to go,
for a life in impoverished seas.
Even so aussie sea lions
live for just 12 years.
It's the shortest lifespan of any seal.
When the mothers go back out to sea,
the pups make the most of
their extended childhood.
A coastal lagoon -
out of the reach of predatory sharks -
is a safe place to try life in the water.
These aussie sea lions depend
on their mothers for years.
But they're not being pampered ¡ v
they have to prepare for life on the edge.
As adults they'll make
record-breaking dives
just to get enough to eat,
so they need this time
to develop stamina too.
But it looks like they have
a bit of fun along the way.
In these barren waters it's hard
for anything to make a living.
So what could possibly attract
an animal the size of a whale?
She's come here to have a baby.
The warmth of the leeuwin current
has created a lovely
whale-sized birthing pool.
Southern right whales spend most
of the year in the sub-antarctic,
but the water's too cold and wild
down there for a vulnerable baby.
They come to the protected bays of the
australian bight to rear their calves.
But this is one hungry baby and it needs
mother's milk to build up its strength.
Breast-feeding is demanding -
the baby could suck its mother dry.
So what is she doing for food?
She sorted that out months ago...
by fattening up
in the rich southern ocean.
Over the summer she ate her way
through two tonnes of krill a day.
It gave her enough energy to swim
2000 kilometres to australia,
give birth, produce
thousands of litres of milk
and then guide her calf back
to the sub-antarctic.
All without taking another bite.
Most animals, such as the giant
cuttlefish, don't venture such distances.
But they have to find food
in these impoverished waters.
Their favourite prey
is thin on the ground,
so they live and hunt alone.
First they mesmerise their victim...
...then they take aim.
It must be like looking down
the barrel of a gun.
They're deadly accurate...
but not so hot in reverse.
Cuttlefish only get together
in the autumn.
The great australian bight
has rocky reefs,
which are vital in the breeding season.
And cuttles gather in their
thousands to size each other up.
Giant cuttlefish are
the biggest of their kind.
Males can grow over a metre long
and they're the ones
that command centre stage.
There's lots of showing off.
These flashy signals sort
the men from the boys.
Holding ground is everything.
This big male wants to control
a certain spot on the reef.
It's where the females
will come to lay their eggs.
Other males try to muscle-in.
These upstarts don't seem
to be getting the message,
so the defending male throws
his weight around a bit.
The females are much daintier
but they always search
for the biggest male.
He usually holds the key
to the best egg chamber.
After all the bravado,
he shows his tender side.
That's the romance out of the way,
now it's back to guard duty.
Rivals never give up,
and the big male wants to make sure
those are his babies under that rock!
To the east of here,
life in the sea goes up a gear.
The warm leeuwin current
is running out of steam.
And the cold southern ocean
is beginning to take charge.
This force from the south has
chiselled out huge limestone stacks -
the twelve apostles stand as
if in reverence to the power of the sea.
Here, off the southeast
corner of australia,
these colder seas also start
to shape life beneath the waves.
It's chilly,
but it's paradise compared
to the waters of the bight.
It's as if the hand brake has finally
been taken off and life can really motor.
There are over a thousand
different types of kelp alone.
Forests of giant kelp grow at
top speed in these ideal conditions.
The southern ocean pumps
in all the basic ingredients.
With a good dose of sunlight,
and the plentiful nutrients
that you get in cool waters -
these seaweed-trees can shoot up
half a metre a day.
Sometimes they reach 50 metres -
taller than most of the trees on land.
But it isn't just the luxuriant growth
that makes this corner
of the ocean so special.
It's the remoteness.
It's been remote for so long,
that most of the plants and animals
are found nowhere else on earth.
Even by australian standards
this weedy sea dragon
looks out of this world.
Like the kangaroos and koalas on land,
the animals in the sea have been caught up
in their own evolutionary bubble.
Gliding through the seaweed
on its peculiar fins it proves
that not all dragons are myths.
The curious little handfish
would rather walk than swim.
It uses its strange fins
to stroll along the sea floor,
saving tail power for
when it's really needed.
The leafy sea dragon has
a dress code all its own.
It's modelled itself
on the local seaweeds.
These dragons are nearly
half a metre long -
but they easily go un-noticed.
This outrageous fashion statement
is the perfect camouflage.
And these are not your
typical aussie males.
With sea dragons,
it's the fathers that carry the eggs.
He makes quite sure that
the offspring don't drift off.
It's crucial -
they must hatch out, and grow up,
against this same matching background.
They'd stick out like
a sore thumb anywhere else,
so they're trapped forever
in this corner of australia.
Other residents are more cosmopolitan -
they're not so tied to this strange place.
In fact some make every effort
to get their offspring out of here.
And the ocean currents will help.
After sundown a female lobster
sets out across the reef.
Under her tail is a precious
cargo of tiny larvae.
She's looking for the highest point
on the reef to send them on their way.
The top spot is always the most popular.
But once all the females
are in position they wait.
There are fewer predators around
in the hour before dawn.
So only then do they cast off their brood.
The water's more turbulent up
here at the top of the reef...
so it's hard to hold a handstand!
With this odd and elegant
way of giving birth,
lobsters have colonised the oceans.
The lucky ones get sucked into
the powerful southern ocean current.
It only clips the corner of australia -
so its effects largely
pass the country by.
But it hits new zealand square on,
so there its impact is stronger.
New zealand and australia
used to be joined together.
But they drifted apart
millions of years ago,
and now their seas are very different.
The waters around new zealand
are topped up by nutrients
washed from this fertile land.
So they're richer and support more life.
Like this massive colony of gannets.
Each summer 8,000 pairs
will raise a family here.
And it's all based on the fabulous
fisheries of pilchards,
anchovies and jack mackerel
in the surrounding sea.
They have to pinpoint the catch.
But once they get their bearings,
each hit is a bull's-eye.
Gannets slice into the water
at 150 kilometres an hour -
which means they can score fish
ten metres below the surface.
If the fish go deeper, the gannets just
wait for the arrival of the backup squad.
Common dolphins harass
the sardines from below,
pinning them up against the surface.
And that puts them back into gannet-range.
Although these numbers are impressive,
gannets are citizens of the world.
After all, you can see the same
spectacle in british waters.
But new zealand has been sitting out
on its own for a very long time.
And it has some wildlife wonders
that are truly unique.
Hector's dolphins are only found
around the new zealand coast.
They're also tiny.
At just over a metre long they're
the miniatures of the dolphin world.
They spend all their lives in
the shallow water near the beach.
Further out they'd be a mere snack
for a shark or killer whale.
But they don't need to go anywhere.
The bountiful southern ocean brings a
total lifestyle package right to the door.
The huge swell is a reminder
that new zealand's southern tip is
in the firing line of the coldest,
wildest ocean in the world.
It's one of the most
fertile seas on earth,
but sea birds can't breed out here -
they need land.
The snares islands are
the last specks of rock
connected to the australian
continental shelf.
Sure ground in the midst
of a full-throttle ocean.
In the great sweep of open sea
between australia and antarctica,
snares crested penguins
have no shortage of food.
It's dry land that's at a premium.
Every summer
the waters around these isolated
islands swarm with penguins.
They're gathering to get
the next generation underway.
The snares islands are
the only rocks around
where these birds can raise their young.
Twice a day the adults have to return
to the nests to feed their chicks,
and they have to run
the gauntlet of pirates.
Fifty metres out, the returning
penguins raft together on the surface,
until sheer numbers give them the
confidence to make a dive for shore.
In the melee, head-ons can't be avoided.
Under the water, penguins are
just too nippy for hookers sea lions.
This one's probably on the lookout
for a weak or injured bird.
Fit penguins have no trouble covering
the last stretch of open water.
Landing is trickier.
But these birds are fearless.
Snares penguins have to be sure-footed.
Their twice-daily commute
includes a sheer wall of granite.
Penguins may not be
the most elegant climbers
but with their low centre of gravity,
strong claws and sheer doggedness,
they get there in the end.
At the top there's the rush-hour traffic
and muddy forest trails to negotiate...
then they have to pinpoint the calls
of their own out of the colonial din.
Only then can mum and dad
bring home the bacon...
or in this case regurgitated squid.
Two months and two tired parents later,
the chicks are ready for the sea.
The journey begins enthusiastically,
as they all head for the water.
But it takes a while to find your feet.
Maybe it's better to give it
just a few more minutes...
snares penguins are just one
of the many resilient animals
that have risen above the challenges
in these southern seas.
These tough little birds have
to overcome one more obstacle.
Getting into the water is a triumph
of substance over style!
Desert waters, tricky currents
and sheer isolation
have all helped shape the diversity
of marine life down under.
These are waters filled with
surprises and delights.
Hardship has simply brought out
the best in the strange southern seas.

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 02 Desert Heart

2011-06-03T11:20:00.004+01:00

Two-thirds of australia is
as dry as a bone -
over 5 million square kilometers
of rock, scrub and sand.
When europeans came looking for farmland
in the centre - just 150 years ago -
they were dismayed by what they found.
They wrote it off as the
'dead centre', rejected it,
as a good-for-nothing wasteland.
That couldn't be further from the truth.
The continent's dry heartland is
like nothing else on the planet,
and it's full of life.
But could the new australians
ever see this spectacular land,
and love it, for what it really is?
Although the centre is hot,
much of it doesn't look
like desert at all.
The first european explorers were
convinced they'd find pasture here.
They found swathes of tall grass -
surely the answer to their prayers.
But spinifex is as tough as old boots.
It's the only grass that can grow
in the poorest and driest soils.
The lack of native grazing animals
should have tipped them off.
Not even kangaroos can chew on this stuff.
But these grasslands were dotted
with strange red mounds,
a clue to what did thrive here.
There are grazers, billions of them.
The explorers just couldn't see them.
Termites are the only animals
that can stomach spinifex.
The grasslands cover
a quarter of the continent,
so termites are one of the most
powerful forces in australia.
They've turned a virtually inedible
grass into their bread and butter.
They have it all to themselves.
By chewing it up with spit and soil,
termites can even turn spinifex
into walls that harden like brick.
The result is a multi-story complex
that's both cool and secure.
And not just for termites.
At any one time the mound
is crawling with spiders,
centipedes, geckos and skinks.
The termites themselves
are a living larder.
Most of the grassland's
life and death struggles
are played out along the
mound's humid passageways.
For the knob-tailed gecko
it's murder in the dark.
But the centipede is no walkover.
Each mound is a world within a world.
Termites eat grass; centipedes eat
termites; geckoes eat centipedes.
In the desert, termites
make the world go round.
In the grasslands outside the mounds,
there are others waiting to pounce.
Low-energy lizards have really struck
it rich in this desert economy.
They're virtually drought-proof
because they can survive on far less
food and water than mammals or birds
and so there are millions of them.
Australia's desert wealth can
be measured not in pasture,
but in the phenomenal
variety of lizards per acre.
They have this unpredictable
country licked.
Most lizards eat anything,
but this one is picky.
The thorny devil only
eats little black ants.
A thousand a day...
if it can get into the groove!
It's cleverer than it looks.
Ants know the whiff of a dead comrade,
so the devil never lets
them smell its breath.
It keeps lifting its head to puff away
the telltale formic acid fumes.
The ants never catch on.
The first europeans thought
all these animals were useless.
And when they didn't find rich grazing
land, they just saw emptiness -
the never never.
So it was a big surprise when they
found people making a living here.
Aboriginal people have survived in the
centre for over forty thousand years.
They moved across the land,
tapping into many different water
sources and living off bush tucker.
They understood how to make
the desert work for them.
They also used fire,
not just for cooking and warmth,
but to manage the land.
They still use fire stick farming today.
To burn off the prickly spinifex,
and encourage edible plants
to grow in its place.
It's a controlled
version of the wild fires
that would have swept through the outback
even before these people arrived.
Most of the plants in the bush are dry
and naturally packed with oils.
They ignite readily but
they don't always die.
And their seeds often survive a blaze.
The scorched earth is
a kick-start for new growth;
bush tomatoes, yams and
bush-berries flourish.
Strange as it may seem,
many plants have evolved to live with fire
and so has the wildlife.
The mala is a small desert marsupial
that cannot breed without the succulent
shoots that germinate after fire.
Bilbies also benefit
from fire stick farming.
They look like down-under bugs bunnies
but they're marsupials too.
They eat more or less anything.
But after a blaze
the poor desert soil
is fertilized by the ash,
so there's a greater variety of plants
and insects for them to sample.
Like the mala,
they feed after dark to avoid dehydration.
It's wickedly hot during the day,
so some kind of shelter is vital.
They have powerful front legs
and claws to help with that.
Two metres down is an air-conditioned
retreat for the whole family,
and it's also the safest place
to be during a grass-fire.
In good years, after a burn,
they can have four litters on the trot.
So they can breed a bit like rabbits!
To survive in the outback you need
to understand how it ticks.
Something the aboriginal people had
learned from the life around them.
To them this landscape
is steeped in meaning.
Their journeys across the centre follow
paths of memory and understanding,
which often meet at sacred places
like kata tjuta... and uluru.
To us it's a photo opportunity.
To them it's a timeless place that
describes the way they see the world.
Patterns of erosion on uluru's surface
tell the story of how the people
are connected to their ancestors
and to the land.
They are intimate with it.
But for newcomers,
the desert heart couldn't be more alien.
Frustrated europeans battled to find
a route across the continent.
Having travelled thousands of kilometers
over the flattest country in the world,
they were disheartened to find a chain
of mountains blocking their way.
The macdonnell ranges were
once himalayan-sized,
but australia's so old,
they've crumbled and rusted
into a geriatric spine.
Even so, it was a challenge
to find a way through.
Unexpectedly,
their search took them from desert to
an inner sanctum of natural wonders.
65 million years ago australia was
covered in luxuriant forests like these.
This valley of red cabbage palms
is the last of their kind.
They were cradled here
as the climate dried up,
saved from drying out because
the porous rocks around them
hold water like a sponge.
Some of the trickle-fed
pools never dry out.
That's heaven in a place where
it might not rain for years.
Here, in the heart of the desert,
explorers were amazed
to find fresh-water fish.
The billabongs in the
ranges are so isolated
that some fish are found
only in particular pools.
This must have been a sight for sore eyes.
Because of this permanent water,
there are more bird species in australia's
deserts than in all of britain.
It's a particular lifesaver to birds
on a dry diet of seeds,
such as budgies... and zebra finches
that need frequent drinks.
The finches pump the water up with
their tongues. They need to be quick.
They're forced to play cat and
mouse with the local falcons.
But it's the spectator that gets lucky.
Life is a gamble in the desert...
and there are only a few deep,
shady gorges that never dry out.
That's where black-footed rock wallabies
hole up in the crevices and caves.
A sun-soaked ledge takes
away the night-chill.
Usually they're not around in the day,
but this is the breeding season
and life is getting a bit frenetic.
The male is trying to winkle
himself in behind a female.
But she's determined to keep
her back to the wall!
To reach all the females
he needs mountain-goat precision
and wallaby spring-loading.
They'd like to stay
glued to the rock face,
but most of their food
is on the gully floor.
Rock wallabies are not
much bigger than a cat.
Packs of dingoes work these gorges,
so they need to watch out.
As the day stokes up
they do the sensible thing
and find some shade.
In most other deserts of the world
rainfall follows a pattern,
however scarce it might be.
In australia it's totally
and utterly erratic.
The rain is usually too light
to make a difference.
But the mountains channel
whatever does fall.
Rivulets become creeks and then rivers.
This is how a little goes a long way.
The finke river has been cutting
its course out of the central ranges
for nearly 300 million years.
It's thought to be one of
the oldest rivers on earth.
It doesn't go to the sea,
but heads further into the desert
and over a 700-kilometre route
it transforms the dry lands
beyond the mountains.
Even as a ribbon of sand it's
beaded with precious waterholes.
And long after water has
vanished from the surface,
an avenue of trees can tap into
water hidden deep in the sand.
Red-tailed black-cockatoos
are never far from the finke.
They flock along it - to wherever
the food and water happen to be.
The large trees are a real draw.
It's in their shade that the cockies
spend the hot afternoons socializing.
Red river gums offer
multi-storey housing...
with made-to-measure nest holes.
These cockatoos are very large parrots,
so they need something roomy.
It'll be a tight squeeze once
mum's in there too.
These intelligent birds
can live for over 50 years,
and they spend a whole year
raising a single chick.
It has a lot to learn.
The outback is not a predictable place.
In a long run of difficult years cockatoos
must fall back on past experience
to find enough to eat.
Aboriginal people also
had to be resourceful
and they never stayed
too long in one place.
The finke was a natural highway...
so not surprisingly it also opened
up the centre to newcomers.
They arrived on imported camels and
muscled-in around the reliable waterholes.
The aborigines fought this land-grab.
There were ugly conflicts.
By the late 1880s even the poorest
rangeland had been settled.
But many cattle stations went
bust after a few dry years.
It's easy to get caught out.
The centre can look more
promising than it is.
Mulga country doesn't
even seem like desert.
It's a dense woodland of acacias,
bloodwoods and ghost gums,
rooted in the out-wash
of the central ranges.
Most woody shrubs are
thirsty and demanding,
but these tough plants have flourished,
despite the poor, dry soils...
and despite unwelcome invaders.
In the 1880s camel-trains were
the only way to cross the desert
but once roads had been built
the camels were abandoned.
With no natural predators they've
made themselves at home.
Australia is now the only country
where one-humped camels
live naturally in the wild.
In the breeding season
males do their best to pull as
many females as they can.
The dulaa - an inflatable sac
lining the roof of their mouths -
could only be a camel turn-on.
But mostly, this display is for the males.
The biggest bull starts to
throw his weight around.
Things can get really heavy.
This upstart gets well and truly bounced.
Over half a million camels
roam the centre now.
They're no longer a curiosity,
they're serious pests.
Despite their over-whelming presence,
...it's the little guys who run the place.
Every morning a huge ground-level
operation takes place.
Units of meat ants fan out
to find overnight carnage.
They'll butcher this dead grasshopper...
...and then carry the body-parts
back to their bunker.
Meat ants outnumber
everything at floor level.
All other invertebrates are dead meat.
Taken belowground these bodies are
an extra dose of fertility in the soil.
It's ants that give mulga trees the boost
they need to grow in the desert.
Deep in shade is a nest of bulldog ants.
There are over a thousand different
species of ant in australia,
but these are the ankle-biters.
Each one is four
centimeters of aggression.
A creature of the underworld.
But they aren't out for themselves.
Caring and sharing
works best in the desert.
Hunters bring back insects -
even small reptiles -
which feed everyone inside.
They've dug shafts two metres underground.
The queen and her larvae are
coddled in the deepest, coolest,
and best protected chambers.
Teamwork is the ultimate buffer
against extreme heat and drought.
The queen produces
a constant supply of larvae.
Together with squads of carers,
fortress-builders and food-gatherers,
these colonies are virtually immortal.
Beyond the influence of the
ranges and the finke river,
this driest of continents presents
the greatest challenge.
The largest area of parallel
sand dunes in the world.
The simpson desert would
cover most of britain.
The early explorers miscalculated
much of australia's desert.
But there's no mistaking the simpson.
The towering ridges were
piled up 18,000 years ago...
by storm-force, prevailing winds.
It's still windy today.
Aboriginal people avoided it
and when the first european reached it,
charles sturt thought he
'stood at the gates of hell.'
Europeans didn't cross it
until just over 60 years ago.
In 1939 a scientific expedition
rode into the inferno.
It was part field trip, part adventure -
the white man's stamp on the last
area of australia to be explored.
A final frontier where it hits 50
degrees centigrade in summer
and where sandstorms can blow for days.
The expedition never saw how
animals cope in this fan oven
because most of them stay well hidden.
The main survival trick is
to only come out at night.
There are a surprising number of
animals in the desert hardcore.
One of the toughest is the mulgara.
It doesn't even need to drink.
Insects are 80% water
so it gets all the food and liquid
it needs from its nocturnal hunts.
Nor can they be fussy about what they eat.
Mulgara will switch between anything -
birds, lizards, insects,
spiders, even other mammals.
And they can store fat
in their stubby tails
to see them through the lean times.
No other country has so many
feisty little desert carnivores.
Even when a male makes a romantic advance,
it's a ferocious affair
that can last for 8 hours.
Although they mate every year,
many litters die.
Sometimes there's just not enough food.
But mulgara can live for over six years.
A few individuals survive
even the longest droughts
so at least some babies are
likely to make it through.
The simpson desert is hot,
but it's not hell,
even for little devils.
Under the sand dunes it's cooler
and the temperature stays stable.
A good place for
thorny devil eggs to incubate.
Although the egg chamber
is a bit gritty, it's safe.
So they can take their time hatching out.
It's just a halfway house.
Once they've rested, and
their spikes have hardened up,
the babies will dig their way out.
Tunnelling up through half a metre
of sand when you're thumb-sized,
must seem like the great escape.
First they get their bearings.
They could easily overheat
so they look for shade.
Running on instinct seems
to work - in the end.
And they find their first meal of ants.
The simpson desert might seem
like a life sentence to humans,
but not to the free-roaming
symbol of the outback.
Red kangaroos are australia's
biggest native animal,
standing taller than a man.
But they live on sparse grasses and herbs.
Five metre bounds are a highly
efficient way to cover lots of ground
in the search for scattered food & water.
Many roos die during severe droughts.
But they get numbers back up in good times
by becoming permanent breeding machines.
At any one time a female can have
an embryo, on hold, inside her...
a joey suckling on one type
of milk in her pouch.
...and a young-at-foot
drinking a different type of milk
from a separate nipple.
With all this going on
the males are in a constant
state of sexual tension.
They only lose their drive in the
very driest and hottest years
when their testes, quite literally, fry.
This way everyone saves energy!
Even though they're big,
kangaroos don't need liquid every day.
But where do they find a drink
in a sun-baked land with
little or no surface water?
On the western edge of the
simpson desert there's an oasis.
It's a series of natural springs that
are forced up from underground.
Aboriginal people knew where to find them
and which springs flowed
even in the worst droughts.
Australia's such a vast continent that
early explorers were convinced
they'd find an inland body of water.
When they first asked about
the existence of these springs,
the aboriginal people lied.
This knowledge was gold dust.
Each pool is like a desert spa
complete with exclusive clients.
The hot-water vents stir up
a cocktail of algae and other food,
which is where some of the fish feed.
These aren't called dalhousie
hardyheads for nothing.
They're swimming in water
that's halfway to boiling point.
The dalhousie springs,
as they're now known,
leak out from a much larger and
more extraordinary natural wonder.
One of the biggest underground reservoirs
anywhere - the great artesian basin.
Much of this water fell as
heavy rain long ago, out east.
It's taken two million years
to seep slowly down
through the porous underlying rock,
to the centre.
It would be many decades
before the colonists learned
to pump this water up for
their sheep and cattle stations.
In the very early days
they'd pinned all their hopes
on rumours of an inland sea.
This is what they found.
From a distance it looks like a snowfield,
except that here, an ice cream
would melt in seconds.
It's a salt-lake.
Lake eyre covers 9,000 square kilometers
and lies 15 meters below sea level.
It's the very sump of australia.
A sea alright,
but one of mud, covered with a blinding,
heat-thickened salt-crust.
In 1840,
when edward john eyre discovered it,
he stared in horror at
'one vast, low and dreary waste'.
Although the lake was named after him,
his hopes of finding water were crushed.
He called it australia's dead heart
and the name stuck.
Eyre, like most of the europeans
who came after him,
never got to grips with
australia's desert centre.
They'd never experienced a place
so random, so unforgiving.
A place where it never rains,
but it pours.
You might have to wait
over ten years to see this.
And every thirty years or so, it rains
so hard even noah would be impressed.
Thousands of square kilometers
of desert are awash.
But as these epic floods drain away,
something truly remarkable happens.
None of this water
will ever reach the sea.
It flows inwards to the country's
lowest point - lake eyre.
Edward eyre had been in the
right place at the wrong time.
And missed one of australia's
most astonishing spectacles.
It's not known whether birds on the coast,
fifteen hundred kilometres away,
can smell the water
or whether they sense a change
in the atmosphere.
But they arrive from all over australia,
and in their thousands.
Pelicans head for the islands
where their nests will be safe
from goannas and dingoes.
By the time
the last spaces are being filled,
some chicks will have hatched already.
But how do they know to breed here?
If this desert sea only forms
every three decades,
how do they know what it has to offer?
Pelicans are long-lived,
and it's now believed that the wise
old birds remember where to go.
And they aren't the only ones
to keep coming back.
These waters are stuffed
beyond imagination with fish,
shrimps, snails, mussels and yabbies.
A population explosion
triggered by the floods.
And it's all within easy reach.
Pelicans operate like a fleet of trawlers,
scooping their netted beaks
through shoals of fish.
Then when their crops are full they return
to off-load the catch back at the nest.
This isn't just a family gathering.
It's a pelican pick-up joint.
Birds from different parts
of australia get together,
and in this way pelicans keep
their genes well mixed.
There are around 50,000
pairs in this colony,
and some chicks are nearly
as large as their parents.
In their frenzy to eat the big ones almost
suffocate down their parent's gullet.
They have to be shaken out.
Pelicans will spend the best part of
a year here, breeding to the bitter end.
The chicks that hatch last may not have
fledged by the time the fish run out.
Lake eyre will evaporate into mere memory.
Australia's desert heartland
is dominated by this breath-taking
cycle of drought and flood.
It doesn't follow any rules, which is why,
for over a century most new settlers
turned their backs on it.
Only very recently did the centre
become a place to visit.
People have come to love its stark
beauty and intriguing detail.
With understanding has come respect,
both for its nature and its people.
It's now treasured as
the very essence of australia.
The much-maligned centre has
finally been taken to heart.

BBC - Wild Down Under Episode 01 Wild Down Under

2011-06-03T11:20:00.002+01:00

Modern Australia...
lt seems a familiar sort of place...
...but step outside these cities and
you could almost be on another planet.
Because Australia is the
strangest continent on earth.
lts wildlife is so weird
that at first some people thought
the animals were a hoax...
...or the work of the devil.
lt's a paradox, a place of extremes -
its centre a burning desert,
but also with rugged mountains,
covered in deep winter snow.
lt has endless horizons of magical,
time worn landscapes...
...and in them an amazing
variety of wildlife...
...more species of animals than
Europe and North America combined...
...almost all of them unique -
they live nowhere else on earth.
lt's a place that likes
to do things differently.
And somehow,
this remarkable mix of wildlife
manages to survive on the harshest,
driest inhabited continent on earth.
So how did Australia
come to be so special?
To answer that,
you need to travel back in time to
when this was a very different
kind of place, covered in trees.
1 00 million years ago,
massive forces shattered the
super-continent of Gondwana
and eventually a giant fragment
floated off northwards,
with a unique cargo of wildlife.
Australia was born.
This was an extraordinary world,
lush, green and dripping with life.
Today, there are still
a few places in Australia
where you can get a feel for that past.
These are the rainforests of Tasmania.
They're ancient, mysterious places
and some of Australia's oddest animals
live here, like the Tasmanian devil.
They're scavengers,
sort of antipodean hyaenas,
and they use their powerful jaws
to crush up every bit of a carcass.
You may get a dozen or
so around a dead Wallaby...
...and they find it hard to share,
let alone be sociable.
With such lethal teeth,
manners like these can be very dangerous.
Screaming at each other is safer,
but better still is bum
barging your neighbour
with a few powerful blows from behind.
This competitive spirit
starts early in life.
Devils are marsupials -
their babies develop inside a pouch -
and while this mother
is jostling for a meal
the young are tucked away inside
doing much the same thing.
Mothers produce about 20 embryos
and they have to fight for just six teats,
Competition is fierce and even the ones
that survive still have
to fight for a drink.
Only three or four usually
make it out of the pouch.
By then the competitive
spirit is well established -
and will stay with them
for the rest of their lives.
Dense forests are not just
confined to Tasmania -
they spread right up the eastern
coast of the continent because,
soon after Australia became an island,
its eastern side was
buckled into mountains.
These trap rain,
blowing in from the ocean.
So their lower slopes are
covered in thick forest.
Higher up, there are rugged peaks.
And in the south, in winter,
the rain falls as snow.
These are the Australian Alps,
covered in snow for months of the year.
ln places it drifts up to 30 metres deep.
lt's not something you'd
expect to see in a land,
which is mostly dusty and hot,
but this weather can be
ferocious and unpredictable...
Sometimes there are blizzards.
But even here, there are marsupials
determined to make a living.
This is a wombat, doubling up as
a snowplough in an attempt to find food.
Wombats are world-class diggers,
and they use their strong front legs
and snout to bulldoze through the snow,
in search of grass beneath.
They're normally nocturnal,
but now it's far too cold
to come out at night,
so they forage during the day,
even in the worst of the weather.
lt's a tough place
but there are other marsupials up here
as well - dainty little wallabies.
Surprisingly, both the wallaby
and the wombat have young
families in these conditions,
in the depths of winter.
But there's a good reason for this -
these joeys will emerge in spring,
just in time to feed
on the new green shoots.
Meantime, a centrally heated pouch
is the warmest place to be.
Even the world's weirdest mammal,
the platypus,
makes a living in the icy waters
of these mountains.
Uniquely Australian, it has a duck's bill,
an otter's tail and
webbed feet with claws.
Males have poisonous spurs and
females lay eggs, like birds -
so it's hardly surprising that early
reports of them were treated as hoaxes.
lt's actually a monotreme,
a typically Australian group of mammals.
That weird looking bill
is highly specialised,
with tiny sensors
to detect the minute electrical signals
from the muscles of its prey.
So sophisticated, the platypus can swim
with its eyes and ears closed.
By swinging its head from side to side,
it builds up a radar-like
map of the stream,
pinpointing the shrimp
and worms it likes to eat.
lt's a very adaptable animal, making
its home in forest streams like these...
all the way up the east
coast of Australia...
...from the snowy mountains of the south,
right up to these tropical
rainforests in the north.
Like the Tasmanian forests,
these are also ancient and have been
here since before Australia was born.
The land they cover today
is relatively small,
just one thousandth of the continent,
but they have just about
the richest mixture of wildlife
of any of Australia's environments.
lt's here, of all places,
you can see what a truly
strange place Australia is -
here more than anywhere,
you see how its original cargo of wildlife
has evolved into such
a variety of unique species.
lmprobable giants,
like this flightless Cassowary.
And marsupials, in every shape
and form, including the possums.
One of the most striking
is the striped possum,
which scampers over tree trunks
looking for grubs and nectar.
There is no better source of nectar
than the bumpy satin ash -
covered in thousands of tiny blossoms
growing straight from the trunk.
The possum gets a sticky meal
and it also picks up pollen on its fur,
transferring it from tree to tree.
There are 26 species
of possum in Australia
and almost half of them
live in these rainforests.
Some have found ingenious
ways to move around.
This is a sugar glider...
Flying through the air -
or perhaps just falling with style -
they use their own
built in sky diving suits,
to glide from tree to tree
for up to fifty metres.
They can steer, even change
direction by ninety degrees,
by adjusting their flaps of skin,
and using their tails as a rudder.
When it's time to land,
they just lower their flaps
and put out their landing gear.
Although touchdown could be better!
But why did some possums evolve to glide?
Soon after Australia became an island,
its climate started to dry out.
The thick, tangled forest that
had covered most of Australia
for so long began to thin out
into open woodland.
lt was a change that stamped the character
of the Australian bush we know today.
The lush rainforest was replaced
by Eucalpts, or gum trees.
With trees now further apart,
some possums evolved
to glide across the gaps.
And there was now space
for other types of travel too.
Kangaroos evolved in woodlands
just like these.
You need room to bounce around like this,
a uniquely Australian
solution to budget travel.
At certain speeds,
a hopping kangaroo is more efficient
than any horse or antelope.
They live in family groups called mobs,
and females can be impressive
breeding machines -
there are over fifty million
kangaroos in Australia,
more than twice the human population.
Having such a successful
design is all very well,
but you need to know how to use it.
Just three days out of the pouch,
this Joey has more than
just a spring in his step.
Learning to get about on two supercharged
pogo sticks is no mean feat.
That was exhausting - time for a nap.
But as you grow older,
fitting those legs inside isn't easy
and within two months he'll be
out of the pouch for good.
Up in the gum trees,
there's another marsupial with
a less energetic approach to life...
lt has the laid back
Aussie love for leisure.
This koala is putting his back
into taking it easy.
Koalas eat gum leaves, which are
full of toxins and hard to digest.
To survive on a diet like this they've
turned napping into a national sport.
Of course, it looks like dozing,
but these guys are working
really hard to digest their meal.
But at one time of the year
this all changes...
lt's spring and the males want to mate.
To kick-start the season,
they begin by calling.
But if your date is almost comatose,
that may not be enough.
For some of the older males,
this is already too much like hard work.
They can't keep the mood going for long.
For those who can gather enough energy,
the chase is on.
But this female, with a baby on her back,
is not ready to mate...
For a koala,
this is really getting a move on.
But males can be very determined.
Gentlemanly courtship is not his style.
Nor is the female willing to give in.
ln fact his only skill seems to be the
ability to turn a drama into a crisis...
The baby is now in serious danger
and in the scramble gets
separated from its mother.
But it gets even worse.
ln the confusion the youngster ends up
dangling from the bottom of the male.
This farce could easily turn into tragedy.
The male has bungled the whole episode.
lt's time to exit,
but as he slams into reverse,
he takes the baby with him.
Escape at last,
but the baby isn't out of danger yet.
Young koalas depend on
their mothers until a year old...
and this one is too small
to survive on his own.
Encouraged by her calls, though,
he manages to sprint the last few metres -
back into her arms.
Now he's safe.
Raising babies, with or without
rampaging males in the neighbourhood,
is not easy in these Eucalypt woodlands.
They're tough places, dusty and dry,
without a lot of food.
...especially with mouths
like these to feed.
This is a kookaburra
and these chicks are demanding customers.
They want round the clock room service.
lt's a problem for parents
to provide this on their own
so they enlist the help
of last year's brood.
lt's a sort of Kookaburra Catering Corps,
with a bit of work experience thrown in.
They'll be learning all
about bringing up chicks.
Kookaburras are the largest
kingfishers in the world -
but being Australian,
they don't always catch fish
and they don't always live near rivers.
To keep the brood well fed,
they catch everything they can find...
spiders, snakes,
sometimes even small mammals -
anything to keep the noise down.
With the entire family working
together on constant dinner duty,
they can deliver a conveyor
belt of food round the clock.
But it seems the faster they shovel it in,
the louder the babies cry.
Now and then, though, a big mouthful
of lizard seems to do the trick.
These parched woodlands aren't
just tough places to live in
and bring up a family -
they're dangerous as well.
They're tinder dry and easily ignite.
When a spark hits the volatile oils
in their leaves and bark,
gum trees burst into flame.
Within minutes the woodland is a fireball.
Animals that can move fast get out quick.
lf the wind gets up it can fan the blaze,
causing crown-fires that
race through the treetops.
And afterwards, Armageddon.
The morning after there may be a few
dead insects around, the odd shoot,
but any animals that survived
will have to move on.
And they may have a long way to go.
Hundreds of kilometres of woodland
can disappear in days.
Three million hectares a year
are incinerated by fires like this.
But then, something extraordinary happens.
Many gum trees have evolved
to survive bushfires,
and some have energy stores
beneath their bark,
which allow them to burst back into life.
Within a week or two
their trunks are covered
in dazzling green foliage.
The drying out of Australia's
climate over millions of years
not only had a major
effect on its forests,
but also had a dramatic
effect on its rivers.
Long ago,
Australia had a network of mighty rivers
stretching right into
the heart of the continent.
But when the climate dried,
they dried up too.
Today, the largest river system
left is the Murray Darling.
And here it is
barely wider than the average road.
lt's extraordinary
that a 2,500 kilometre long river
should be so narrow...
And this is in full flood.
Even in a year, less water flows down
the Murray Darling than down
the Amazon in a single day.
Most of Australia's rivers
are even smaller.
Many are steams that
dry up for part of the year,
others are creeks that
haven't seen water for years.
But in many riverbeds water
remains in pools called billabongs.
ln Australia's parched landscape
these stand out as irresistible lures,
drawing in wildlife from every direction.
Billabongs are vital
for life in the outback
and many animals live or die
by their skills at finding them.
None arrive in greater numbers
than corella parrots.
These turn up in their thousands,
in flocks so huge that
early explorers in search of water
learnt to look for them on the horizon.
ln this early evening rush hour,
they're joined by budgies -
tough little nomads,
who will travel a long way for water.
By the end of the day
thousands of birds are gathered here,
and every available tree seems packed
with budgies and corellas.
Most animals that
live in the parched outback
get at least some water from their food.
But corellas and budgies eat seeds,
which are very dry,
so they need to drink every day.
Kangaroos can survive for longer without
water, but rarely stray far from it.
On the other hand, emus may have followed
a trail for over a hundred kilometres.
They use cues like distant clouds
or the sound of far off thunder
to help them find water.
And it's not just vital for daily life -
animals need it for breeding as well.
Because rain is so unpredictable
kangaroos have to breed when they can and,
when there's water about,
females move into mass production.
She may be suckling an older Joey,
with another one in the pouch and
probably an embryo inside her as well.
Budgies too make the most of it.
Where they find water they can set up
home and raise a family in an instant.
But they have to put up with
some rather annoying neighbours.
All the activity at this budgie household
seems too much for the corellas.
They are intelligent birds,
but they're also busybodies
and enjoy sticking their beaks
into other people's business.
For the budgies,
they're the neighbours from hell.
The corellas are just being nosey,
but it is probably best for the budgie
chicks to stay in their hole.
These are playful birds
and after a few drinks at the billabong,
they like a bit of fun.
Fooling around like this helps
to strengthen their relationships...
...but some of it's just showing off.
While the water lasts they make
the most of this time off,
in the cooler evening light.
Although much of Australia
has very little water,
there's one area that's awash with it.
Since becoming an island,
Australia has been drifting north
at about five centimetres a year,
so its top end is now in the tropics,
right in the path of the tropical monsoon.
This is one of the most powerful
weather systems on the planet.
lt lasts for only a few months each year,
but while it does northern Australia
becomes a very different place.
lt has a dramatic wet season.
For a short time,
rain falls so hard that rivers
turn into raging torrents.
Where they burst out of their gorges
they flood out onto open plains,
creating some of the world's
largest tropical wetlands.
The most famous of these is called Kakadu.
Every year, huge numbers of
birds arrive to feed and breed.
Two million magpie geese alone jostle
for space with ducks, herons,
ibis and other water birds,
some feeding on the flooded grass,
others on shrimps and small fish.
But birds aren't the only animals here...
ln the quiet streams on the edge
of the swamp are residents
who live here all year round.
This strangely prehistoric looking
reptile is an amphibious lizard
called Merton's water monitor.
They're graceful swimmers, spending
some of their time completely submerged,
propelled by a long, powerful tail,
which doubles up as a rudder.
They're scavengers and, even underwater,
they can 'taste'
the scent of rotting food.
Finally, it finds the meal
it's been looking for -
a dead fish.
There are other reptiles here, too -
freshwater crocodiles,
also uniquely Australian.
These are daintier cousins
of the giant saltwater crocs
and they feed on smaller prey,
like fish and crustaceans.
This is boom time...
but it won't be long before the monsoon
ends and the blazing sun takes over again.
As the water evaporates, the swamp
congeals into an ocean of sticky mud.
On the margins of Kakadu the streams
dwindle into pools of sludge.
The monitors can move back on land, but
these freshies rely on water to keep cool.
Their situation is beginning
to look increasingly sticky.
Before they get stuck fast, these crocs
must do something, and quickly.
As the evening heat dies down
they slide to the edge of the pool.
Their only chance of surviving is to
travel over land in search of more water.
They'll need to find it before sunrise.
lnstead of the normal crocodile
'belly crawl'
they march overland with
this unusual ''high walk''.
lt's the fastest way to travel
if they're going to find water by dawn.
When the sun comes up,
they're in real danger of overheating -
but these freshies have one last trick.
With a unique gallop
they make an Olympic dash,
and become the fastest
crocodiles in the world.
With any luck,
a deep pool like this will survive
until the monsoon returns.
But most of the streams and pools
will have all their water sucked out
of them by the burning tropical sun.
Throughout its long history,
Australia has dried out so much
that about half the continent
is now desert -
in places so arid and alien,
it looks more like the surface of Mars.
ln the harshest areas,
there are vast lakes of dry salt.
With almost no vegetation,
the bones of the continent are laid bare.
Like a gigantic ribcage,
these parallel sand dunes stretch
for hundreds of kilometres.
And at the heart of the desert, Uluru -
one of the world's largest rocks,
and this is just the tip.
The rest extends
six kilometres below ground.
ln such a dry landscape, it seems bizarre
that Uluru was actually weathered
into shape by millions of years of rain.
At first glance there doesn't seem
much sign of life in the desert.
But during the day,
most sensible Australians
stay out of the sun...
and the planigale is no exception.
lt's one of Australia's smallest
marsupials - and one of the toughest.
lt needs to be -
most of its meals are larger than it.
Dwarfed even by this moth,
the planigale doesn't give in.
With true outback grit,
it tries to wrestle this
oversize meal to the ground...
...and fails again.
ln these underground cracks
it's almost fifteen degrees
cooler than out in the sun,
so the planigale can hunt for
a smaller meal in comfort.
Or so he thinks...
This is no time to relax,
when above you is the world's
deadliest snake... the inland taipan.
This snake scares even Australians.
lt's loaded with venom -
enough to kill thousands of planigales
and you or me, in minutes.
Now being small has its advantages.
With a specially flattened head
it can squeeze into tiny crevices.
Even the world's most venomous
snake can't always get a meal.
The Australian desert
is full of deadly snakes.
ln fact, all sorts of
reptiles flourish here,
especially lizards.
Australia has more than
any other continent
and in the desert a single sand
dune can support forty species -
this really is the land of the lizard.
The largest are more than a metre long.
This is a sand goanna, also known as
a racehorse goanna for obvious reason.
Lizards are much more successful here
than mammals because they need less food.
Meals can be scarce and goannas will
eat virtually anything they can catch...
Even scorpions.
Goannas do get stung,
but they seem to be immune to the poison.
lt may not be much,
but this could be its last meal for weeks.
Animals don't come much tougher
than the adult goanna,
but their eggs are more vulnerable.
They need protection from
the harsh desert climate
and termite mounds
make perfect incubators.
These eggs were laid about nine months ago
and they're now ready to hatch.
Fully formed miniature adults emerge.
The termite mounds gave perfect protection
but now they're a barrier
to the outside world,
and these babies need to get out.
The walls can be rock hard.
But the youngsters are already
as determined as adults.
One by one, they clamber out
to enter one of the toughest
habitats on earth.
Over its long history,
Australia has dried out so much,
that in places its desert heart has
now expanded right up to the coast.
Millions of years of drying
has had an enormous impact
on the character of Australia
but one further event put
the finishing touches to its shape.
Just ten thousand years ago,
at the end of the ice age,
sea levels around the world rose.
Australia's coastline was flooded,
creating thousands of beautiful islands.
This flooding also helped shape
the world's largest living structure,
the Great Barrier Reef.
This reef was once dry land -
aborigines might even
have hunted kangaroos here.
Now, at over two thousand kilometres long,
it's the greatest coral
complex to have ever existed.
lt's hard to imagine a more colourful
and vibrant contrast to the dry,
crusty old continent.
Over four hundred different corals
in every shape and size,
support more than
two thousand species of fish.
And for just a few days in spring,
the reef bursts into
a special frenzy of activity.
With precision timing,
using cues from the moon and the tides,
many fish begin to breed.
Thousands of them condense their courtship
and spawning into just a few minutes
of frantic fertilisation.
But, on just a few nights each year,
an even more remarkable
event takes place...
On certain tides, just after the full
moon, the reef itself begins to erupt.
Two thousand kilometres of coral
takes part in a synchronised release
of eggs and sperm, in vast quantities.
No one knows quite how
so many billions of eggs
are timed to release on the same night,
so precisely.
lt's the biggest synchronized
breeding event on the planet.
lt seems extraordinary that Australia,
the harshest,
driest inhabited continent on earth,
has also produced such a colossal,
vibrant, growing, structure.
But from the moment
Australia became an island,
its isolation and unique history have
shaped it into this continent of extremes.
Australia's story has created
a land of fantastic diversity -
the weirdest mix of animals and plants,
living in some of the toughest but
most beautiful landscapes imaginable.
This really is the strangest
continent on earth.

BBC - Supersense EXTRA Making Of

2011-06-03T11:20:00.000+01:00

Creatures filmed in the wild
should be featured behaving entirely naturally.
0f course achieving that
using a film or video camera
demands the highest of skills
and sometimes an extraordinarily
well-developed imagination,
perhaps even adapting
an everyday object such as this
for something completely different.
But more about this later on.
Super Sense has taken us on a journey
deep into the mysteries of the animal kingdom.
Its aim has been to explore
how animals use their senses to survive
in their very different worlds.
Film images on their own
only tell half the story.
To interpret the latest scientific research,
the most advanced film
and video techniques were needed.
The story has always been told
from the animal´s point of view,
whether it´s navigating pigeons
or the mating behaviour
of 10,000 garter snakes.
To see life from a snake´s point of view,
somebody has to be there to film it.
Someone so absorbed in his work that
normal considerations of comfort don´t apply.
Spare a thought for Martin Dohrn.
Close-up shots mean close-up positions
for cameramen.
To film this sequence, he had, quite literally,
to immerse himself in the subject.
His bare feet lessened the risk
of hurting the snakes.
This specialised periscope lens
provides a snake´s perspective.
In this seething river of snakes,
females are outnumbered 3,000 to one.
Competing males outwit each other
by taking on the smell characteristics
of the females.
Martin Dohrn spent many days waiting
for the moment when a few successful males
paid court to the elusive female,
encouraged by scent from between her scales.
It´s a moment of surprising tenderness.
The behaviour of sharks
provides a stark contrast.
With eyes ten times more sensitive to light
than a human´s
and a nose that can smell blood
from a kilometre away,
it is the ocean´s most perfect
and feared predator.
Assistant producer Nigel Marvin
has come to the Bahamas
to swim with the three-metre long
black-tipped reef shark
to demonstrate its electric sense.
There is only one way
to film a sequence like this.
In a carefully calculated risk
based on expert local knowledge,
Nigel Marvin splashes nervously about
to show how a struggling swimmer produces
the same signals as a fish in distress.
A shark detects the electricity
from muscle movement.
In the completed sequence,
the discharges of man and fish
were made visible
through a special video effect.
Fortunately, the shark preferred
the signals from the fish.
It´s here that these
and many other special effects were invented.
They navigate using an electric field
which they generate around themselves.
Series producer John Downer
and Dave Jervis of the BBC´s
video effects workshop,
discuss how to make visible the controlled
muscular discharges of the electric eel.
So it´s a fair beast.
The field´s not on all the time
so we don´t need to put it on every frame,
but if we came in almost on the frame we´re on
it´d probably be quite a good point.
27:32? I´ll just take a...
Having followed scientific advice
on the nature of its electric field,
they now add an electronic effect
to the original film of the eel.
First they take a still frame.
I think it´s probably simpler
to keep that out at the moment.
Then, using an electronic pencil,
they draw around the fish´s outline.
Do I need to worry about this rock here?
I wouldn´t.
0nce completed,
the outline is recorded onto a second tape.
Drop one frame of that in to get some of that.
This time-consuming process
has to be repeated
for many different positions of the eel.
After many hours,
a series of outlines is produced,
which, when animated, coincides
with the movements of the swimming fish.
By displaying these outlines on a screen
and diffusing the image
using greaseproof paper,
the picture appears to expand and glow.
This image is then superimposed over the eel,
and its intensity carefully adjusted.
- ..that sort of thing.
- That looks good.
A little bit brighter perhaps?
Even better.
By running the original film
and the animated outlines at the same time,
the eel´s normally invisible electrical field
suddenly becomes visible.
Similar techniques produced
many other pieces of electronic magic.
The flow patterns around these shoaling fish
were created by superimposing film
of real water on each fish,
and individually animating them.
Similar animation methods were used
to show how a bottle-nosed dolphin
uses its echo-locating beam.
The sonar beam reflects back from its prey
and is picked up by its lower jaw.
This was one of the many new discoveries
featured in the series.
A researcher from the University of Sussex
helped create
this mantis shrimp´s view of its lunch.
Anableps, the four-eyed fish, avoids predators
using its ability to see
above and below the water simultaneously.
For this interpretation,
the top half was filmed on location in Mexico,
and the bottom half in a studio tank.
The images were combined
using a split-screen technique.
Another creature with two components
to its vision is the vulture.
Its eye sees a general view
but with a central magnified area
that picks out fine detail.
To demonstrate this extraordinary adaptation,
a hot-air balloon was used
over the Masai Mara in Kenya.
Mike Richards filmed
using two different cameras,
one with a wide-angle lens
and one with a telephoto.
The two images were later put together
to produce a vulture´s eye view.
You´re looking at me
through the lens of a thermal image camera.
This camera records minute differences
in radiated heat,
the heat given off by my body.
So my thermal image,
whilst giving the outline of my face,
shows the radiated heat
collected and then converted
into bands of colour,
so that the warmer parts of my face
show up as red
and the cooler parts as blue or bluey-green.
Using the pit organ beneath its eye,
the cottonmouth also sees
a thermal image of its prey,
here recreated through
that same thermal imaging camera.
But the snake´s heat-sensing ability
is several hundred times faster
than the camera´s.
How do you get shots like these
inside the air-conditioning system
of a wild termite colony in Africa?
The queen´s private chamber
is only a centimetre high.
To film her loyal subjects gathering eggs
from her bloated body,
poses a problem familiar to wildlife filmmakers.
So the world of film has solved this problem
by borrowing an idea from the world
of medical science - the endoscope.
What the endosope is
is a series of optical lenses inside a tube,
and the tube is coated with fibre optics.
So, by shining a light along the tube,
it lights up everything in front of it
and enables us to see exactly what´s going on.
It´s a technique that´s also allowed us to enter
another subterranean creature´s world -
the naked mole-rat.
Some filmmaking equipment
is on a far grander scale.
This impressive piece of engineering,
and indeed this whole room,
contains some of
the most advanced technology used
in the making of natural history programmes.
This moving gantry
is part of a piece of equipment
known as a MacroGlide.
Alan Hayward,
cameraman at the BBC´s Macro studio,
filmed some of the sequences
seen in Super Sense using this machinery.
With this joystick,
adapted from a helicopter control system,
he can guide the movements
of the gantry in three dimensions,
and so track and glide the periscope
wherever he wants.
Filming complex animal behaviour,
even in the controlled conditions of a studio,
always takes a lot of time.
To capture this unique film of a pistol shrimp
stunning its prey with sound,
took the cameraman three months
of constant observation.
Another studio technique
is the use of high-speed photography.
To enter the time world of a fly,
the camera is set to run
at 2,000 frames per second.
When played back at normal speed,
this slows down the action 80 times.
Similar techniques were used to explain
the strange ultrasonic world of the bat.
These ultrasounds are too high-pitched
for the human ear to register.
(All sing hymn )
To film these sequences of
the long-eared bat during a church service,
took weeks of careful preparation.
The bat and beam,
seen high above the congregation,
are in fact inside
a specially constructed glass-fronted box,
together with cameraman Peter Smithson.
All he has to do is to wait for the bat
to move into the perfect position.
So we can hear
the bat´s strange world of ultrasound,
this high-speed tape recorder is used
to drop the pitch,
together with a high-speed camera.
Slowing down both sound and picture
allows us to enter the sound world of the bat.
(Sound slows )
The notes on this organ
are too low to be heard.
A sneeze becomes unrecognisable.
The jangle of money
produces a bewildering cacophony.
0f course tape recorders can not only drop
the pitch, they can also raise it.
(Trumpeting)
These African elephants,
here shown at normal speed with normal sound,
have a secret language based on infrasound.
To bring these low-frequency sounds
into our hearing range,
it was necessary to speed up recordings
of their calls three times.
For years these sounds
were dismissed as stomach rumbles.
In fact, they´re produced in the larynx.
By playing them back to the elephants
and observing their reactions,
their true meaning has been discovered.
Just as sound can be speeded up,
so too can picture.
Time-lapse photography
is a familiar filming technique,
and was used extensively
in the programme about time.
0utdoor time lapses like these,
which can take as long as 24 hours,
require a cameraman constantly on hand
to tend the equipment.
Here, Martin Dohrn sets up his camera
for a sequence on tidal rhythms.
Each frame is exposed singly,
one every second.
This speeds up the action 24 times.
Unconventional shots
require unconventional solutions.
This helicopter, normally used
to carry telegraph poles in Scotland,
now carries a film camera in a waterproof pod.
This takes us smoothly
from one world to another.
But truly entering the animals´ world
takes more than machinery.
0ff the Dingle coast of Ireland,
this dolphin allowed us into its world
because of a special relationship
it has developed with humans.
It seeks out divers
and encourages them to play.
It´s a relationship of complete trust.
Ever since the dolphin´s mate died,
it has used humans as substitute companions.
In this spontaneous underwater encounter,
the dolphin is free to come and go
as it pleases.
Much of the filming for Super Sense
has relied on the special relationship
that can develop between man and animal.
This high-speed gorilla chase was captured
by Richard Johnstone-Scott of Jersey Zoo.
Although not a cameraman,
he was able to shoot pictures like these.
After ten years´ close work with these animals,
he´s built up a relationship that´s so special
that he´s now accepted
as part of the gorilla´s family.
Wild fowl breeder Tony Durkin
has acquired a family all of his own.
Come on. Come on.
These red-breasted geese
have been hand-reared by him from the egg.
As far as they are concerned,
he is their mother.
Come on, then. Come on.
When a young bird hatches,
it fixes on the first moving object it sees,
which it then regards as its parent.
This imprinting is familiar
to behavioural scientists
in their study of birds.
The goslings follow Tony Durkin
wherever he goes,
and eventually will fly alongside him
as they´re filmed.
Come on! Come on!
This skein of barnacle geese
is part of Tony´s extended family.
The geese are free to fly wherever they wish,
but the imprinting is so strong
that they stay with the car.
Alan Hayward filmed them for a sequence
describing the magnetic navigation of birds.
But perhaps the greatest filming challenge
was to follow man´s oldest ambition -
literally to fly with the birds.
Is Richard´s shadow going to be in shot?
This slightly nervous grin
belongs to the series producer, John Downer,
as he tries his hand at parascending
to film an imprinted jackdaw.
Fortunately, this excellent imitation of Icarus
was only a trial flight, without the jackdaw.
If at first you don´t succeed, try again.
As the real star prepares for his film debut,
our intrepid aviator shows that man too
is capable of some stunning
behavioural adaptation.
As the jackdaw flies in front of the canopy,
we are able to see it from a new perspective.
The technique was so successful
it was later used to film this imprinted teal
flying at a height of 200 feet
for the programme on vision.
0f course not all birds can be imprinted.
As the making of the series progressed,
the filming of wild birds in flight
called for other solutions.
A custom-made film camera
mounted in the nose of a model aeroplane,
was used to film right in among
a flock of circling vultures.
As the aircraft climbs up into the thermal
currents high above the Masai Mara,
it is able to produce this unique footage.
Controlling the plane is model maker Clive Hall.
To obtain these shots, he had to design
the aircraft specifically for this purpose.
It can even carry a television camera
and transmit live pictures.
Because a flying vulture has no predators,
it readily accepted the presence
of another flying creature.
Filming vultures is one thing...
but how do you persuade a pride of wild lions
to accept the intrusion of a film camera?
To illustrate the importance of the pride odour,
it was necessary to obtain
not just close-up shots,
but also shots taken
on the same level as the cubs.
The solution was provided
by this child´s toy that you saw earlier.
They attached this camera to the buggy like so,
and then, after giving it a little covering of fur,
we were able to put it down
in the Masai Mara National Park in Kenya
and leave it free to wander,
with some interesting results.
A lone cub takes a tentative interest.
It approaches warily and is filmed
by the camera in the buggy.
Unsure of what it´s found, it backs off...
to return with reinforcements.
As the lioness carries it off,
the camera keeps turning,
giving us this unique victim´s eye view.
When the film was finally retrieved,
it contained this remarkable shot,
used as part of the lion hunt.
Capturing such an extraordinary moment
of animal behaviour is only the start.
To tell a complete story,
many carefully planned individual shots
have to be built into sequences,
explaining why animals behave as they do.
Without this careful reconstruction,
stunning images on their own
can only give a superficial view
of a complex and fascinating world.
It´s a world
we´re only just beginning to understand.
Although many mysteries still remain,
our journey with Super Sense
has been an attempt to see life
from the animal´s point of view.

BBC - Supersense 6of6 Making Sense

2011-06-03T11:19:00.000+01:00
Even before it hatches,
a bird shows the first stirrings of perception.
A sense of touch develops first, then hearing.
(High-pitched chirping)
Days before it emerges,
it will eavesdrop on the sounds outside.
Hatching is synchronised by the cygnets
calling to each other while still in the egg.
As the cygnet emerges, it is bombarded
with a barrage of new sensations.
Its eyes begin to make sense
of these changing patterns of light.
The cygnet is programmed to follow
the first moving object it sees.
It will soon learn that this is its mother.
Instinct and learning will shape
the stream of sensory information
as the chick interprets the world.
Instinct and learning continue to influence
the senses throughout life.
Each year, drought in the Serengeti
forces wildebeest to make a formidable journey
seeking fresh pasture.
They´re believed to be guided
by the smell of rain
but an overriding instinctive drive
governs their direction.
This compels them to risk their lives fording
the treacherous waters of Kenya´s Mara River.
In all this sensory turmoil,
a process of learning is also going on.
The crossing points seem to be remembered
from year to year,
the younger animals learning from
those that have made the journey before.
With animals that migrate together,
there appears to be a collective wisdom
that keeps the animals on course,
providing they can survive the ordeal.
The yearly migration of the wildebeest
covers 800 kilometres.
Prompted by an internal clock
and sometimes travelling alone,
the house martin navigates far greater distances
on its journey from Africa to Europe.
The Sahara offers few visual landmarks
to guide it,
and the Mediterranean is equally featureless.
To keep on course it relies on a sun compass
as well as magnetic cues.
General direction is dictated by instinct,
although the exact flight path
may be modified by learning.
Having flown the route before,
it will remember many landmarks.
As a young bird, it would have flown
with those that are more experienced.
As it nears the breeding area, it picks up
sights and sounds that are increasingly familiar.
Just as we recognise the features
that surround our home,
a house martin has a mental map
that covers hundreds of square kilometres.
Before they migrate, young birds make
an aerial reconnaissance of their local area,
so they can find it again the following year.
0lder birds recognise the same nest sites
and return to them unerringly.
(Cooing)
We have selectively bred pigeons
to exploit this homing ability.
Races of 1,500km are not uncommon.
But even sophisticated sensory systems
can become confused.
Like house martins, pigeons rely on the sun
to help set a compass course.
They also use a magnetic sense,
particularly at the start of the journey.
Nearer the loft smell may also be a guide,
but now both the sun and magnetism
are the most important cues.
In some races
conditions can change disastrously.
When bad weather obscures the sun,
they´re guided solely by the magnetic force lines
of the earth.
The pigeon senses the angle of these lines
to find its compass direction.
In areas where magnetic rocks
distort the earth´s field,
the bird can become hopelessly confused.
Magnetic storms erupting from the sun
may also throw the pigeon off course.
Birds have several navigational backup systems.
Accidents happen
when they´re forced to rely on just one.
Similar problems can affect the senses of
animals that navigate beneath the water surface.
Sperm whales make vast migrational journeys
of thousands of kilometres.
Here there are few visual landmarks,
so they too are believed to be guided
by the earth´s magnetic field.
Although the ocean appears featureless,
it is marked out by an invisible landscape
of hills and valleys.
As the whale migrates,
it is thought to follow these contour lines
which trace variations in magnetism
of the rocks below.
The lines connect points of
equal magnetic strength,
and in the ocean create long, invisible valleys
that the whales appear to use as roads.
This simple navigational system
is usually reliable,
but if the whale makes a wrong turning,
the contours can lead to disaster.
Sensory confusion affects more than
just navigational systems.
Like the whale, sharks use
the earth´s magnetism to find their way around,
but they detect it through sensors
which are also used to locate prey.
These electroreceptors concentrated
around the mouth of the shark,
can detect the minute electrical discharges
of muscular activity.
0ver the 180 million years
of the shark´s ancestry,
such a simple system
was an infallible guide to food.
This is no longer the case.
To the shark, unscreened communication cables
create the same irresistible signals.
Cables are often severed by
such misdirected attacks.
Such cables are now being redesigned.
The shark´s senses evolved
long before man appeared on Earth
and have no inbuilt protection
against these inventions.
(Music playing, phone ringing)
0ur harnessing of electricity has caused
confusion to the senses of many animals.
Hatchling turtles have an urgent need
to reach the sea.
At this tender age,
they´re an easy mouthful for any predators.
Low to the ground, the sea is hidden from view,
so in this race to the water,
they orientate to the brighter horizon.
Even on the darkest nights,
this horizontal strip provides a guiding light.
To these loggerheads,
this rush to the warm Mediterranean Sea
is the start of a life of wandering.
Guided by smell and a magnetic sense,
it will be ten years before they return
to these breeding beaches.
0ver the intervening years,
great changes can happen, many caused by man.
As hotels and tavernas encroach
further along the turtle beaches,
many thousands of hatchlings
never find a safe refuge.
Artificial lights provide a stronger lure
than the faint glow from the sky.
This disorientated turtle is destined to perish
in the searing heat of the day.
Similar confusion affects animals
guided by another natural light.
Moths appear to keep a course by orientating
their body at a constant angle to the moon.
This reference angle varies
depending on the species,
and helps the moths disperse efficiently.
When there appear to be two moons,
the moth selects the brighter.
As it tries to maintain an angle to this
new reference, the moth spirals towards it.
The moth´s simple navigational system
can easily become confused.
But do the complex systems of birds
cope any better?
Starlings use many aids to find direction,
including the stars.
They too are believed to use the moon
as a guide.
Unlike moths whose reference angle is fixed,
birds are thought to compensate
for the moon´s changing position.
When the moon compass disappears from view,
the starlings fall back on a magnetic sense.
Without any other visual reference, the starlings
respond to any strong light they see.
Artificial lights become a compelling substitute
for the moon.
In bad weather,
these guides, vital for our navigation,
can destroy the sensory system of migrants.
Thousands perish on these pulsating lights.
(Twitters )
Biological beacons can be equally deadly,
for some fireflies have found ways
of exploiting sensory confusion.
This photuris female is landing among
males of a species known as photinus.
She flashes a sexual signal
to the surrounding males.
Attracted by the beguiling light,
this male is unaware he´s entering a trap.
The female mimics the flash code
of the male´s true mate.
Seduced by this femme fatale,
the male approaches to mate.
She responds...
by eating her suitor alive.
Just as lights can be used for sexual deception,
so too can smell.
The bola spider uses a unique method
to ensnare its prey.
At the end of its dangling thread
lies a bolus of sticky silk.
The spider supplements this deadly weapon
by releasing a deceptive chemical.
To a male moth this odour trail is irresistible.
It mimics exactly the sexual perfume
of the female.
The spider can even change the chemical nature
of its lure to entice other species towards it.
As the moth searches,
the spider throws its bolus.
As smell governs the lives of so many insects,
various other kinds of chemical trickery
have evolved.
These Scandinavian ants are called Amazon ants
because of their large size and ferocious nature.
0ver a thousand of them begin a deadly raid.
A scout ant has located the nest
of a different species.
These reinforcements are preparing to invade.
They enter the nest of the smaller black ant,
formica.
Alerted by their alien smell,
the formica soldiers offer predictable resistance.
The Amazon ants now unleash
their chemical weapon.
This mimics the alarm scent
of the formica soldiers and causes them to flee.
As the chemical breaks down all resistance,
the Amazon ants freely plunder the nest.
They carry out their bounty of ant pupae.
These will not be used as food,
their value is far greater.
The Amazon soldiers rely on formica ants
to maintain and feed their colony.
Their captured pupae
are destined to become slaves.
When they emerge from the pupae,
these workers, controlled by the colony odours,
tend their captors´ every need.
In this world of sensory deception,
some animals have found ways
of literally seeing through the trickery.
These cuttlefish are showing
the striking colour patterns of courtship.
The zebra stripe design
acts as an alluring display.
The patterning is controlled by special pigment
discs which can rapidly expand and contract.
This allows the cuttlefish to show
spectacular colour changes.
These transformations under nervous control
allow a hunting cuttlefish
to blend seamlessly into the background.
Its prey has a different camouflage technique.
The fish´s silvery appearance is part of
a vanishing trick that relies on mirrors.
Each scale reflects the light of the surrounding
water, causing the fish almost to disappear.
The cuttlefish´s eyes have a countermeasure
that can destroy this camouflage,
for they can detect light
polarised in two different planes.
They see through the fish´s
protective reflections
just as our polarised sunglasses cut out glare.
Its method of catching its prey
is just as ingenious.
The battle between predator and prey
is the main driving force
behind the evolution of super senses.
Such a sensory arms race has developed
between bats and some insects.
This noctule uses echo location
to create sound images of its prey.
(Chirps )
Many moths have evolved cunning defences that
rely on listening out for such ultrasonic calls.
(Chirps )
Alerted by these audible warnings,
they create their own ultrasonic clicks
to jam the bat´s sonar.
They twist in this smokescreen of sound.
Moths may be winning this battle,
but the long-eared bat
has evolved a new strategy.
Its enormous ears act as acoustic horns
that locate and concentrate sound.
It also hears lower frequencies
than most other bats.
It tunes in to the sound of moth wings.
The moth is most vulnerable
as its flight muscles warm up before takeoff.
To avoid being detected,
the hunting bat switches off its echo location,
relying instead on heightened hearing.
These remarkable facts
have only just been discovered.
Many other sensory mysteries still remain.
Each autumn the monarch butterfly sets off
from the northern states of North America
on a journey south of 4,000km.
This is the longest migration of any insect.
To keep on course,
it´s believed to use the sun as a reference,
a guide known to be used
by many other insects.
At the same time of year, many birds migrate
helped by the same celestial compass.
These red-breasted geese fly from Siberia
to the Caspian Sea,
a distance comparable to that
covered by the butterflies.
Just as these birds are backed up
by a magnetic sense,
there is growing evidence that it is also involved
in the monarch´s migration to Mexico.
Even in the navigation of birds,
there are many mysteries still to be solved.
How important is the information from low
frequency infrasound? From smell and vision?
Can the magnetic sense keep track of
changing latitude as well as compass direction?
Similar uncertainties shroud
the monarch´s powers of navigation.
All the monarchs from
the eastern side of America
gather together in a few small groves
high in the Mexican sierras.
Protected from the harsh extremes of climate,
100 million butterflies over winter
in this one remote glade.
In the spring, these butterflies will journey
north, breeding several times over the summer.
It will take two or three generations
before monarchs reach the far north again.
These butterflies are the offspring
from the previous summer
and have never been here before.
Their knowledge of the migration route
must be inherited.
How they find these precise locations
has yet to be discovered.
Could temperature, altitude,
or even smell be factors?
Perhaps magnetic rock discovered near the site
provides an invisible landmark.
Just as other animals
have given up their secrets,
so these mysteries will eventually be explained.
At one time bats were believed
to belong to the supernatural.
How else could they fly and catch food
in total darkness?
When science revealed
the secrets of echo location,
bats became accepted
as part of the world we know.
As our environment
becomes increasingly artificial,
it takes us further away
from many of these remarkable creatures.
But those animals that still share our lives
have senses that are no less extraordinary.
With its superior sense of smell,
a dog is more aware than we are
of the odours that influence us.
In our frenetic world, we appear to have
lost touch with our own super senses,
but the rhythms of the sun and moon
still affect us,
and it seems that we too may possess
a magnetic sense.
If we have such difficulty
identifying our own super senses,
we should perhaps keep an open mind
to the powers of even familiar animals.
If a mere goldfish can see a greater range
of colours than any other creature,
what secrets are there to discover in animals
that are less well-known?
Whatever powers the future may uncover,
we can be sure that
these will be no more supernatural
and no less remarkable than
the super senses so far revealed.

BBC.- Supersense 5of6 Sense Of Timing

2011-06-03T11:18:00.004+01:00
The natural world is governed by rhythms.
The flap of a bird´s wing, the beat of a heart,
the rising and setting of the sun.
Stonehenge was built by Neolithic farmers
as they tried to decipher
the rhythm of the seasons.
The same natural cycles that were vital then
still govern our lives and those of other animals.
The sun provides the basic rhythm
that times all life, including our own.
The influence of this 24-hour cycle
is so overwhelming
most animals have developed
an internal regulator, or body clock,
that follows its rhythm.
0ur own body clock
still measures the sun´s cycle,
even though we´ve found ways
of improving accuracy.
Even in the city,
we cannot escape these natural rhythms.
We may rely on watches to time our departure,
but starlings, using a body clock,
arrive to roost just as accurately.
Although we supplement
our time sense artificially,
we still follow the same daily rhythms
as other life.
In darkness,
the body clock still keeps track of time.
It even controls the movements of plants.
It makes us feel tired at night,
changing blood pressure as well as heartbeat.
It regulates the activity of our pets
in the same way.
As the sun cycle brings a new day,
the starling´s body clock
times its departure from the city.
They use the position of the sun
as a navigational aid.
Although the sun arcs across the sky,
the bird´s time sense is so accurate it can
compensate for the sun´s changing position.
At any time of the day,
it knows where the sun should be,
and so can use it as a compass.
Without reference to the sun,
body clocks lose accuracy,
drifting away from the 24-hour cycle.
The regular variations of light and darkness
act as a synchroniser,
keeping body clocks linked
to the 24-hour rhythm of the sun.
Accurate body clocks are essential
for insects like honey bees,
that time their activity
to the opening of flowers.
At precise times each day,
internal clocks control petal movements
of plants such as bindweed.
Bees synchronise their visits
to these opening hours.
The timing varies for each flower,
and the bees are only rewarded with nectar
at these specific times.
Like birds, bees use the sun to guide them.
Their time sense not only compensates
for its movements,
but also helps them memorise
up to nine different opening times.
Flowering is so closely linked
to the bee´s activity,
many close once the pollination time has past.
A different kind of clock
controls the seasonal activity of many birds.
House martins time
their spring arrival from Africa
using a body clock
that beats to a yearly rhythm.
Away from the tropics,
nesting is linked to the seasons.
Each year, with miraculous precision,
life responds to these changes
of temperature and light.
As the ground warms after winter,
spring flowers such as wood anemones
blossom into life.
Celandines race to beat the canopy
soon to veil the light of the sun.
As well as gathering light for photosynthesis,
the leaves measure
the increasing length of daylight.
As the days lengthen,
the altering ratio of daylight to darkness
causes chemical changes
in the buds of the trees.
The leaves react to the new rhythm of light.
The fresh growth will not be left alone for long.
Just as caterpillars time their emergence
to the leaves,
there is a bird that times its life
to the caterpillars.
The lengthening days are sensed by the bluetit.
As in other birds, the light passes
directly through the skull itself
to the pineal organ in the brain.
This regulates the yearly clock
and allows the bluetit to time its brood
to the glut of caterpillars.
Some birds have such an accurate time sense
they lay their eggs on the same day each year.
These were laid on the 25th of May.
The accuracy of the sparrowhawk´s timing
relies on the information from a yearly clock
as well as day length.
It times its brood to the summer crop
of bluetits.
The sun has such power,
it also influences the yearly life of mammals.
Here the daily variations of light
are sensed by the eye
and measured in the pineal organ of the brain.
In deer it controls the amount of food eaten,
and triggers a remarkable transformation.
The rutting of stags
coincides with the shortening days.
The light changes
stimulate the release of hormones
which control the deers´ sexual activity.
The changing day length also causes
a spectacular transformation of the landscape.
The golden hues of autumn are triggered
as the days get shorter.
The brown pigments are unmasked
as green chlorophyll and other nutrients
are absorbed by the tree.
The leaves drop as a hormone
destroys a band of cells at the base.
This leaf-shedding avoids water loss
over the winter months.
As the shadows lengthen and the days shorten
further, other life prepares for winter.
These light changes
are sensed by the brown Arctic hare.
As the days get colder,
its fur becomes thicker and whiter.
Prompted by the shortening days,
the hare is now camouflaged for winter.
As winter sets in, plant life slows down
or becomes dormant.
Encased in ice, time is suspended.
With little to sustain them, many animals find
ways of opting out of winter.
In hibernation, the heart of the dormouse
has slowed from 300 beats a minute to just six.
With life and time almost suspended,
winter will be brief.
The moon also has an influence
on the timing of life.
In Africa, the full moon rising over Lake Victoria
triggers a remarkable spectacle.
These are mayfly.
After months of scavenging,
the larvae now respond to the beckoning light.
They prepare for the last brief moment
of their existence.
Thousands of these adults emerge
simultaneously to mate,
synchronised by the full moon.
The glut of mayflies
not only brings the adults together,
it ensures that predators are quickly satiated.
Within a day, they will all be dead.
The moon affects even the oceans.
Its gravitational pull
causes the sea to bulge towards it,
creating a tide.
As the moon continues its orbit,
the water begins to recede.
0nce the moon reaches
the opposite side of the earth,
centrifugal forces
create the second tide of the day.
Life in the tidal zone
needs to predict these changes.
Rock pool activity is based
on this twelve-and-a-half-hourly rhythm.
Many of these animals have a body clock
that measures the tidal cycles.
They need to predict the time
of the outgoing tide
to avoid the danger of drying out.
The gravitational pull of the sun
also influences the tides.
As the relative positions
of the sun, earth and moon change,
they create the lunar phases.
When the gravitational pull of the moon
combines with the sun,
it creates the greatest tides.
These spring tides happen twice every month,
at both the full and new moons.
Twice a month on the half moons, the pull of
the moon and the sun cancel each other,
and result in the small neap tides.
The lives of many marine animals
are governed by this cycle.
This prehistoric creature comes ashore
at the full moon in summer
along the coast of North America.
In a ritual unchanged since the age of dinosaurs,
the horseshoe crabs emerge to lay their eggs.
They synchronise their lives
to the highest spring tides
so they can leave their eggs
on the high-water mark.
Protected by sand and away from water,
the eggs will be safe from predatory fish.
During the next month,
the eggs undergo a dramatic change
also linked to the lunar cycle.
By the time of the next spring tide,
a miniature horseshoe crab is fully developed.
Hatching is synchronised so that the young
are washed out by these large tides.
Along the shores of California,
the full moon causes perhaps
the strangest behaviour of any fish.
The mass stranding of the grunion
is in fact vital for the survival
of the next generation.
This female is laying her eggs
at the high-water mark.
The fish are ashore for the briefest moment.
Each wave brings in another shoal.
As the female lays her eggs,
the males crowd around to fertilise them.
Protected by sand,
the eggs will hatch on the next spring tide.
Before our lives were disrupted
by modern living,
the moon´s cycle may once have been linked
to our own reproduction.
The female´s menstrual cycle
still averages exactly one lunar month,
and pregnancy lasts nine lunar cycles.
As we sleep, time appears to pass quickly by.
If our time perception can change,
how does time appear to other creatures?
To a fly, our world must appear to move slowly.
Its eyes can perceive
far smaller time intervals than we can.
It lives its short life at high speed.
To a fly, even our fastest actions
must appear ponderously slow.
Its reaction time is ten times faster
than our own.
Birds also live a high-speed existence.
The precision manoeuvres of flight
require fine timing.
Locked in our own time world,
we imagine all life
perceives time in the same way.
But in one brief moment of our existence,
the fly is unhurriedly caught
by the house martin.
The life cycle of a fly is only three weeks.
That of a shrew is a year.
Each animal exists for a different time period
before its body returns to the earth.
These different life spans
affect the rates of living.
Most mammals,
whether elephant or elephant shrew,
average the same number of heartbeats
in their lives.
The elephant shrew
lives only two and a half years,
but it carries out life at high speed.
Its heart beats 600 times a minute,
and like most creatures, it will average
800 million beats by the end of its life.
The elephant has only 25 heartbeats
each minute,
and lives for 60 years.
It would need to speed up 24 times
to enter the time world of a shrew.
The different rates of living
are governed by body size.
The largest animals live the longest,
and carry out their life cycles slowly.
We can never be sure
just how other animals perceive time,
but to a sleeping cheetah it must pass quickly,
just as it does when we´re asleep.
Time perception appears to be affected
both by speed of living
as well as the rate the senses
receive stimulation.
In the excitement of the hunt,
time must take on a different meaning.
Adrenalin pours into the bloodstream,
the heart rate doubles,
the senses bombard the brain with information.
Just as time appears to stretch for us
in an accident,
to a cheetah and gazelle
the same may happen in a chase.
The difference between life and death
is literally a split second.
It´s rare for an animal to reach old age,
for older animals move more slowly
and are easier to catch.
How this change of living rate
affects time perception
can be seen in our own ageing.
0lder people spend many hours in inactivity
and their hearts beat slowly.
Children are more active
and their hearts beat faster.
As we age, our rate of living slows,
and with it, it seems, our perception of time.
For an adult, the years speed by,
for a child, a week is a long time.
In the ground beneath Cincinnati
live creatures with a time sense all of their own.
For 17 years, these animals
have lived a subterranean existence.
They´re now emerging into the world
for the first and only time.
The invasion of the periodic cicadas
numbers literally millions,
for the same event is happening simultaneously
over much of North America.
They left the trees 17 years ago,
immediately after hatching.
Since then, an internal timer
has been measuring the passing years.
They´re now prime to transform into an adult.
Each emergence takes 20 minutes.
The wings are pumped up with blood.
The body begins to darken and harden.
The winged forms are now ready
to disperse across the city.
They´re the longest lived of any insect,
but their lives are nearly over.
As we begin a new day,
the cicadas gain strength by sucking sap.
In a passing moment of our lives,
the cicadas have to complete their life cycle.
They will pair up for only a few minutes.
The eggs are laid down a sharp tube
that cuts a furrow in the bark.
These will provide the next generation.
Their useful lives over, they fall to the ground,
creating a mass of spent bodies.
The cicadas will not appear again for 17 years.
0ur own swarms persist far longer.
We live at the same moment
but in a different time.
0n our next journey, Super Sense
will explore the world of sensory deception.

BBC - Supersense 4of6 Super Scents

2011-06-03T11:18:00.001+01:00
Wherever we tread,
an invisible trace is left behind.
Showers of skin cells and bacteria
create an odour trail as unique as a fingerprint.
With a nose a million times
more sensitive than our own,
a bloodhound can identify and follow this scent
even after several days have passed.
We have bred bloodhounds to enhance
their sensitivity to human odours.
The long ears and hanging lips
are also designed to help trap smell.
In all dogs and many other animals,
this olfactory sense is used above all others.
Even our own odours can have hidden influence.
The salmon´s sense of smell
rivals the bloodhound´s.
After several years in the ocean, it now follows
an odour trail with a unique significance.
As rivers flow into the sea, they create
a characteristic plume of fresh water
that drifts for many kilometres.
The salmon can remember the chemical identity
of the river it left as a young smolt.
By swimming up this current of scent,
it can find the way back to its birthplace.
0nce in the river, the fish wait for
the optimum conditions of flow and temperature
before the smell leads them onwards.
The trail will take them to the spawning grounds
where they were born.
Each genetic race of salmon
returns to its own stream.
Driven by instinct
and locked onto this chemical signal,
the fish will overcome the torrential obstacles.
In air, odours carry
even more readily than in water.
Some birds that ride these air currents
have recently been found
to have a surprisingly acute sense of smell.
The fulmar covers great distances
gliding effortlessly on uplifts of air.
The same breezes carry with them
the smell of food.
The fulmar´s large tube nose
is packed with sensory cells.
It uses them to detect slicks of fish oil
from many kilometres away.
The same sense of smell will eventually guide
the fulmar back to its nest
but it now takes it far out to sea.
It joins other scavengers attracted by
the odour of the trawler´s fishy waste.
Like fulmars, storm petrels also appear
apparently miraculously wherever there is food.
They spend most of their lives
roaming the featureless ocean
and rely on a tube nose to guide them
to these unpredictable hand-outs.
Beneath the surface are other surprises.
The starfish is a hunter.
But as it moves, it cannot avoid releasing
an invisible signal into the water.
Like all animals,
it has its own characteristic smell.
This reaches the breathing siphon of its prey.
A spiny cockle reacts to the early warning.
Triggered by the same scent, a scallop competes
with the cockle´s fancy footwork.
An African impala reacts similarly
to the smell of danger.
The scent of a cheetah carries far on the breeze.
To the topi and other antelopes,
it signals danger.
Surprisingly, hunting cats do not take account
of wind direction when stalking prey
and are often smelt before they´re seen.
The cheetah relies on speed to compensate.
As the impala leap, glands on the ankles
produce a smell of alarm.
This communicates danger to the herd.
Many antelopes and deer produce
similar alarm scents when frightened.
These chemical warnings are also common
amongst insects.
A wasps´ nest is governed by many smells.
0ne of these signals danger.
The colony relies on workers
to find a source of food.
As the sting pumps venom,
it releases the alarm signal.
If the scent reaches the nest, it causes
the wasps to react aggressively to the threat.
(Man ) 0h, God!
(Siren )
Alarm scents of a different nature
are found in North America.
This striking black-and-white coat
is in reality a warning signal,
for the skunk possesses
the ultimate chemical deterrent.
Special anal glands create
a cocktail of pungent odours.
The effect is truly repellent.
But smells can also be used to attract.
The female Indian moon moth calls for a mate
by emitting a scent.
Her sexual perfume is released
from the tip of her abdomen
and may reach males
up to five kilometres away.
His feathery antennae comb the air
for her chemical traces.
A single molecule is enough.
He keeps on course by flying upwind,
only crisscrossing the air current
if he loses the trail.
His antennae guide him to the hidden female.
The mountain dusky salamander
also tracks his mate by scent.
But his courtship is far more bizarre.
He uses Dracula-like teeth
to lacerate the neck of the female.
There is a subtler side to this violent courtship.
The lacerations allow an aphrodisiac
from a gland on his chin
to pass into her bloodstream.
The female now becomes a willing partner.
As the male moves, she follows him,
straddling his tail.
The male then deposits
a package containing sperm.
As the male walks forward, the female follows
until she´s positioned over the package.
Fertilisation completes the courtship.
Canadian red-sided garter snakes
have equally strange courtship rituals.
The females are courted
by a whole entourage of smaller males.
To stimulate her,
they stroke their chins along her body.
She attracts them with a scent
exuded from between her scales.
Males have a different smell to the females
but there are cunning exceptions.
This male mimics the smell of the female
and lures other males towards him
with his deceptive odour.
As they near a genuine courtship gathering,
the fake female breaks away
from his confused suitors.
He joins the courtship frenzy and his smell
causes confusion to the males here, too.
This trick, which distracts rivals
away from the real female,
increases the impostor´s chances
of mating successfully with her.
This bizarre story of chemical subterfuge
evolved in the snake pits of Manitoba.
In this glacial sinkhole,
ten thousand snakes have been drawn out
by the spring sunshine.
They have wintered together
in hibernation dens below the ground.
The males are first to emerge,
so when a female appears,
she may be outnumbered 3,000 to one.
With this intense competition,
a male that smells like a female gains
a mating advantage over the other males.
In the wide expanse of the African savanna,
smells of identity have a special significance.
A lion is aware of many smells, but none are
more important than those of other lions.
Each individual has a unique odour.
As the lioness greets by head-rubbing,
she exchanges her scent with others
and creates the odour of the pride.
She recognises her cubs
by their individual odours.
During the first few weeks,
the cubs are kept separate from the males
but through contact with the females
they begin to acquire the pride odour.
(Squeals)
The smells are passed on
by licking and head-rubbing.
The smell from the adult males is the most
important ingredient of the pride odour.
The cubs need to acquire this smell
from the females
before they can safely approach the males.
A lion also uses smell
to mark the pride´s territory.
He transfers his odour to vegetation
by rubbing against it.
The smell is then reinforced,
leaving a musky reminder to other lions
on how often this area of the territory is used.
The Thomson´s gazelle uses an eye gland
to deposit his scent on grass.
0ver many days, thick deposits build up, leaving
a pungent territorial signal to other gazelles.
The topi has a similar gland,
and also uses it to anoint the vegetation.
He then manipulates the grass stem as a
paintbrush to daub the secretion onto his horns.
When thoroughly covered by the secretion,
he then transfers it to the ground,
at the same time picking up
the characteristic smells of the earth itself.
In this area, dotted with scent marks,
the male topi herds together
a large number of females.
These he has to protect
from the attention of other males.
A rival attempts to challenge.
This intruder can recognise the defender
by matching his smell
to the scent marks he left on the ground.
Even during a fight,
the challenger will sniff the ground
as if to check the identity of his opponent.
Scent marks don´t keep intruders
out of the territory,
but allow a challenger
to assess the status of the owner.
Using smell, the intruder can decide
whether to challenge or simply pass by.
0ther smells of a social nature guided
the construction of this natural chimney.
It is the air conditioning system
of the most complex of all insect societies.
A continual updraught of air
not only cools the interior
but also carries chemical messages
to its occupants.
These termite soldiers,
both major and minor castes,
are the defenders of the colony.
Worker termites tend the nursery.
The young can develop
either into workers or soldiers.
If many soldiers are killed, the decrease
in the concentration of their smell
causes more of the young
to develop into this warrior caste.
At the centre of the community lies the queen.
Without the influence of her odours,
the society would disintegrate.
Her bloated body
is continually tended by workers.
Totally immobile, this
pulsating sac is an egg-producing machine.
Every ten seconds of her 30-year life,
a new egg appears
and is carried to the nursery by a worker.
The destruction is caused by a mammal
with an unparalleled sense of smell.
The aardvark uses this heightened sense
to sniff out hidden termites.
As the workers repair the damage,
they are guided by scent.
Saliva chemicals in the globules of mud
attract others to the same spot.
Within hours, the nest is rebuilt
using smell as a guide.
This miniature eruption is created
by another social animal.
(Squeaking)
Like termites, the naked mole-rat´s
subterranean life is governed by smell.
There are even different castes,
including workers, soldiers and nurses.
The smaller workers do most of the digging.
Their spade-like incisors are used
to slice through the rock-hard earth
as they search for nourishing roots.
The colony also has larger soldiers
as well as nurses that tend the young.
Every mole-rat visits the same latrine.
Here, among the wet and pungent earth, the
odour messages of the colony are passed on.
(Squeaking)
Like termites, the mole-rats
are controlled by a single queen.
Her odour suppresses breeding in other females.
The mole-rats´ life is dominated by smell.
But do such chemical messages
have a significance in our own world?
A dog can detect odours
too subtle for us to notice.
Even in our obsessively clean modern lives,
some of these smells still emanate from us.
Glands on our body produce
a cocktail of seven chemicals,
resulting in a unique personal signature
that a dog can use to identify its owner.
House mice, too, have individual odours.
When one mouse greets another,
it sniffs along the whole body,
assessing not only personal scent,
but also status in the community.
Whatever the size of the colony,
only a small proportion of the females breed.
The smell of these dominant females
suppresses the breeding of others.
These and other chemical messages are left on
signalling posts created from dust and urine.
0dours left by the dominant male
have a profound influence on the colony,
reminding young males
of his priority over females and food.
Intruders to the colony
also use these scent posts
to discover the identity of the dominant male.
In an encounter, both the dominant male and
the intruder use smell to identify each other.
(Squealing)
The intruder loses the battle and will know
to avoid the victor´s scent in future.
(Yowling)
A cat is sensitive to many odours
of which we are not consciously aware.
(Purring)
As it rubs against our legs, it deposits
a personal odour from cheek glands
in the same way that lions
mark other members of the pride.
Although we are unaware of them,
our own scents have hidden influence.
The menstrual cycles of women who live
communally eventually become synchronised.
This is a result of smell messages
working on the hormone system.
Ironically, today we try
to disguise our odour identities,
replacing them with simulations
of other animal scents.
It seems that, in our sterile and crowded lives,
these odour messages from our biological past
have become unacceptable to us.
There are still other mysteries to discover
in this intangible world of smell.
Until recently, the olfactory sense of birds
was thought to be poorly developed.
It is now known
that some populations of pigeons
use smell as one of their navigational aids.
The sea has a unique odour,
detectable even by us.
(Birds calling)
To a pigeon, the smell of land
is equally distinct.
As the bird flies, odours from many different
sources are wafted to it on the breeze.
It´s thought that a pigeon locates these sources
of smell not only by flying through them,
but by associating their position
with winds from a particular direction.
(Cow mooing)
Using this knowledge, it can build up
an odour map of the local area
and use this in conjunction with information
from other senses to find its way home.
The most important smell of all
is that emanating from the loft.
0n our next Journey,
Super Sense explores different time worlds.

BBC - Supersense 3of6 Sound Sense

2011-06-03T11:17:00.004+01:00
A bat, like many animals,
lives in a different sound world to ours.
(Siren blaring)
Through its ears,
all but the highest sounds simply disappear.
(Hissing)
( # Congregation sing hymn )
A bat may not hear our low-frequency sound
but it can eavesdrop on ultrasonic frequencies
far above our hearing range.
To listen to this ultrasound,
we must slow our world down.
(Music slows )
(Hissing)
In the bat´s sound world,
low frequencies disappear.
But the high frequencies of ultrasound
are revealed.
(Loud hissing)
To the bat, some of our quietest actions
create a cacophony of high frequencies.
(Clattering)
(Trumpets )
Even familiar animals
can enter a sound world unfamiliar to us.
(Growling)
The trumpeting of elephants
is the highest sound they make.
This is the lowest.
(Groaning)
These calls are normally too low for us to hear.
0nly by raising the pitch
can we hear their communication rumbles.
(Rumbling)
A lone male calls to distant females.
This sound is below our hearing.
Known as infrasound,
it can reach herds many kilometres away.
They respond with a call to leave.
Their calls draw them together.
Those left behind rumble in alarm.
As they meet, they greet each other
with a chorus of infrasound.
The sounds elephants hear
are only just below the human range.
But some birds, like guinea fowl, can hear
infrasound at even lower frequencies.
(Thunder rumbling)
Their breeding anticipates the lush, rainy season
and may be prompted
by the infrasonic murmur of distant storms.
(Clicking)
The call of the capercaillie
also contains infrasound.
Both females and other rival males
react to these territorial calls.
Low frequencies
travel further than high frequencies,
so the infrasound component
can reach distant rivals.
The males fight
for possession of the display ground.
In the air,
all sound carries over greater distances,
giving birds even more information
than is available on the ground.
Those birds that can hear infrasound
can tune into frequencies that carry further still.
Winds on mountain ranges generate infrasound
which could carry for tens of kilometres.
Birds may use these auditory guides to navigate
long before the source of the sound
becomes visible.
There are many natural sources of infrasound
which may give the bird information
from different compass points.
From the changing pattern of sound,
a navigating bird may keep track of its route.
The waterfall
produces a whole range of frequencies.
As it recedes, the higher frequencies disappear.
The infrasound that remains
will carry for many kilometres.
The infrasound of deserts, cities and oceans
could all be used as a distant guide.
Even the sounds of storms
could warn of impending danger.
Infrasound may carry through the air
for many kilometres.
But beneath the ocean´s surface,
there are creatures
that create sounds that travel even further.
The blue whale
is the largest animal ever to have lived.
It creates sounds
that only Just enter our hearing range.
(Humming)
In water,
sound travels four times more efficiently.
So these low frequencies
carry even further than they would in air.
They´re helped
by a unique feature of the deep ocean.
Sound channels, created through
variations of temperature and pressure,
allow the sound that enters them
to pass without being scattered or absorbed.
The calls travel for hundreds of kilometres
and reach many other whales.
The sound may help
to keep the scattered herds together.
At one time, the calls
would have travelled across whole oceans
but noise pollution from modern shipping
now limits their range.
(High-pitched calling)
The sounds of the humpback
not only change from year to year,
they even show regional dialects.
The social groups
are led by a female and her calf.
(Growling)
Her escorts compete vociferously
for a position by her side.
The humpback creates the longest and most
complex range of sounds of any animal.
But they´re not the only creatures
to sing in the oceans.
These are the songs of fish.
(Croaking)
Fish like the barracuda are better adapted
to hearing these sounds than we are.
They can only hear low frequencies.
Even so,
they have a complex vocabulary of calls.
The sergeant major fish
protects its purple cluster of eggs
with an aggressive popping sound.
(Popping)
When threatened by the approach of a predator,
the squirrel fish react with sounds of alarm.
(Dull clicking)
There are even fish with courtship calls.
The toadfish.
The cowfish.
0thers have a whole repertoire of sounds.
A male bicolor damselfish attempts
to entice a female to his nest in the rocks.
As she loses interest,
so his calls and movements change.
(Aggressive clicking)
To a predator, the most significant sounds are
those made by the movements of shoaling fish.
From one of the noisiest places on earth...
to one of the quietest.
The desert at night.
The fennec has the largest ears of any fox.
The veins inside
bring the blood supply to the surface
and help cool the fox during the day.
Because of the heat,
most desert animals are active only at night.
The fox´s huge ears
are now used to gather sound.
(Rustling)
They respond to the slightest rustle.
These large ears are not the only aid to hearing.
The internal ear has an enlarged chamber
to help amplify sound.
The North American kangaroo rat
has similar specialised hearing.
It too has an enlarged chamber
to its internal ear
to enhance its sensitivity.
The smallness of the external ear
is no real handicap.
It is acutely aware of the sounds of predators.
Although alerted by the rustle of scales,
the kangaroo rat is in no hurry to escape
for its hearing can outwit the rattlesnake.
Even in total darkness, it can hear
and instantaneously react
to the sound of the final strike.
(High-pitched calling)
The hearing of frogs
is tuned to the call of the males.
That of the coqui is unique.
(Whistling)
Each sex hears differently.
To a female, the world must sound like this.
(Muffled high-pitched whistling)
She hears only part of the male´s call.
Males hear the other part.
(Low-pitched whistling)
Males hear only the territorial sound,
females the sound of courtship.
The sound of courtship
has also shaped the hearing of these insects.
But before they hear anything at all, the pupae
must break through the surface and transform.
These feathery antennae
are the ears of the male mosquito.
The male lives only to mate.
So its antennae
are tuned to the sound of the female.
0nce dry and mature, he begins his search.
(Whirring)
Through his antennae,
the world may sound like this.
(Muffled voices )
The buzz from the female´s wings coincides
exactly with the male´s restricted hearing.
The female attracts many males,
all enticed by the sound of her wings.
Because of their smaller size,
the male´s wings beat twice as fast.
Their higher pitch
avoids confusion in this aerial courtship.
The chira spider listens for wing beats too.
But it also reacts to other sounds
at the same frequency.
(Voices )
Instead of using a web,
it mimics the smell of the female moth
to lure the male towards it.
As the male hovers
in search of the phantom female,
the spider tracks the sound of every movement.
In darkness,
many animals use sound to find their prey.
The barn owl´s facial ruffs of tightly-packed
feathers funnel sound into its ears.
0ne ear is lower than the other
and angled differently.
This helps the owl
to pinpoint the slightest noise.
(Rustling)
It can locate the position of a sound
better than any other creature.
Its brain creates a sound map
of the area in front of it.
The owl uses this to memorise
the position of the last sound it heard.
Sound is the only guide
as it orientates its claws.
(Mouse squeaks )
(Cat miaows )
A cat can detect ultrasound
above our hearing range.
(Miaows )
At these frequencies, some of the quietest
animals appear surprisingly noisy.
(Snapping)
The peacock butterfly uses ultrasonic clicks
to startle predators.
The bush cricket uses ultrasound for courtship.
The female responds to the call of the male.
Her return call is almost instantaneous.
They hear this high-speed conversation
through ears on their legs.
As the male moves towards her,
the calls continue.
There is just a 30th of a second
between the call and the reply.
This makes the bush cricket
the fastest communicator of any animal.
Beehives are sometimes filled with the sounds
of another ultrasonic courtship.
(Fast tapping)
These wax moths breed in abandoned hives.
As they attempt to attract the female,
the wing-fanning males
create an ultrasonic cacophony
at the limits of even the cat´s hearing.
(Miaows )
As a rule, the smaller the animal,
the higher it can hear.
The high-pitched squeak of a rat
is actually the lowest sound it makes.
(Squeaking)
Most of its calls are ultrasonic
to match its hearing range.
When touched by an adult, young rats use
ultrasonic calls to prevent accidental attack.
At this age, the young easily lose heat
if they stray from the nest.
So they use ultrasonic cries
to attract the mother.
The rat uses sound in another remarkable way,
one that relies on echoes.
(Men´s voices )
Using echoes, even humans can gain
an impression of the size of a chamber.
In a similar way, a rat uses echoes
to help judge distance.
Before it jumps,
it makes this audible sniffing sound.
(Sniffing and squeaking)
From the returning echoes,
it gains an impression of the size of the gap.
The rat´s echo location is crude,
but a few animals
have found ways of improving the technique.
The caves of Kenya are home to some of
the largest roosts of rousettus fruit bats.
Although their eyesight is good,
in the blackness of the cave,
they rely on echoes to find their way around.
As they fly into darkness,
they begin to click their tongues,
a sound we can hear.
From the echoes,
they gain a crude impression of the cave walls.
As it approaches a wall, the bat clicks
at a faster rate to gain more information.
Although relying totally on sound, the bat must
process this information to form an image.
The sound pitch is coarse, as sound reflections
pick up less detail than light.
To improve the picture, it would need
to use higher ultrasonic frequencies.
As it leaves the cave, vision takes over again.
To find a system that rivals vision, we need to
look at the fruit bat´s insect-eating relatives.
The European pipistrelle
improves its sound picture
by using the higher frequencies of ultrasound.
For us to hear these calls,
we need to slow them down.
Each ultrasonic pulse
sweeps the frequency range.
(Squeaking)
The complex call creates a more detailed picture
than the one from the simple
low-frequency click of the fruit bat.
As they near their prey,
they too speed up the pulse rate.
(Waves crashing)
(Clicking)
The dolphin has developed
the ultimate sound-imaging system.
Instead of using frequency chirps like bats,
the dolphin and other toothed whales
produce a stream of intense, sharp clicks.
They use them for both navigation and hunting.
The sounds are focused into a beam by the
dome-like forehead known as the melon.
The lower Jaw acts as a directional ear,
picking up the returning echoes.
Focused into a beam, up to a thousand pulses
per second are directed at the fish.
As the lower Jaw picks up the echoes,
it gathers information
about size, speed and even body structure.
Ultrasound penetrates like an X-ray,
revealing even the swim bladder.
The dolphin
may have even more startling powers.
Like this animal.
The pistol shrimp´s claw
is a unique sound weapon.
It uses these clicks to stun.
The sounds are produced
in the hinge of its claw as it snaps shut
and can be heard over a kilometre away.
The effects at close range can be devastating.
The repeated blasts
literally knock its prey senseless.
It is believed
that dolphins too may possess this power.
As they near a fish,
they can increase the sound bursts.
The effect is stunning.
0n our next Journey,
Super Sense explores the world of smell.

BBC - Supersense 2of 6 Seeing Sense

2011-06-03T11:17:00.001+01:00
How do other animals see the world?
Is their vision the same as ours?
All animals see by gathering light rays,
and although to a gorilla
we appear very different,
our eyes capture light in exactly the same way.
(Child) Mummy, Mummy! See?
But for both of us, the image received
on the light-sensitive retina
is not what the brain ultimately sees.
It is upside down and only the centre
shows any real detail.
0n the retina, this area contains
a high concentration of light-sensitive cells.
Full colour and definition
is confined to this inner circle.
(Child) Mummy, see?
The brain not only inverts the image,
but also fills in all the missing information.
Also, like ours, a gorilla?s brain
is involved in judging distance.
The right eye has a slightly different view
from the left.
From these two separate images,
the brain constructs a three-dimensional picture.
Judging distance becomes precise.
The brain is involved in the vision of all animals,
but away from our closer relatives,
we can only guess at how less familiar eyes
finally interpret the view they see.
The starling?s eyes are far more mobile
than our own.
They can be brought together
to increase the overlap
and so improve the central image.
0r be moved apart to widen the view.
The eyes also converge when searching for food.
And move apart to spot predators.
(Squawks )
Like most prey animals, the starling?s eyes
are placed to the side of its head
to give a panoramic view.
Eye movements add to the coverage.
No animal has a wider view than the woodcock.
Without moving its eyes,
it can even see behind itself.
The eyes placed centrally
on either side of its head
give total wraparound vision.
(Jeep approaches )
With this 360-degree view of the world,
the camouflaged woodcock shows no hint
of movement as it watches for danger.
The eyes of a predator face forward,
and concentrate on the scene ahead.
(Fox panting)
A fox?s view may be narrower,
but it has little to fear from danger behind.
Like many mammals,
the fox has limited colour vision,
but like us, it sees true detail
in only the centre circle.
The brain fills in the rest.
The lion too has the forward-facing eyes
of a predator.
But its vision differs from the fox?s in a way
common to animals of the savanna.
0n this flattened landscape,
prey animals always appear to be
on the horizon.
To take advantage of this,
the lion?s detailed view is elongated into a strip.
This lateral strip gives
greatly increased definition,
and again the brain constructs
the missing details in the surrounding areas.
Like the eyes of all animals, those of
the wildebeest respond best to movement,
so the lion moves as stealthily as it can,
making the most of any cover.
The wildebeest?s clearest view
also lies in this lateral strip.
(Roaring)
(Bellows )
The kill will also provide food
for sharp-eyed scavengers.
The vulture has perhaps the keenest eyesight
of any animal.
As the sun heats the ground,
the birds rise up on currents of warm air.
These thermals will provide uplift
to heights of 2,000 metres or more.
When they reach this height, the vultures will
be able to survey many kilometres of savanna.
With thousands of these flying eyes
scouring the ground,
no carcass will be left for long.
Their renowned eyesight
relies on remarkable adaptation.
The central portion of their view
is magnified two and a half times.
0n the retina, this enlarged area has
a high concentration of light-sensitive cells.
These resolve the finest detail.
The vultures not only scan for carrion,
but are also guided by the behaviour
of other animals.
A gathering of other scavengers
is a certain sign of food.
(Shrieking)
They may search communally,
but at the carcass it?s every vulture for itself.
(Shrieking)
(Shrieking continues )
(Flies buzz )
(Chirping)
(Roaring)
This eerie science-fiction spectacle
is caused by an intriguing science fact.
Eyes adapted to darkness often have a mirrored
layer at the back of the retina to reflect light.
This gives the eyes a second chance
to absorb even the faintest glimmer.
Most nocturnal mammals
show this mirrored vision.
The net-casting spider needs neither mirrors
nor artificial light to see at night.
Its enormous lenses let through
every available ray,
and its retinas have huge light-gathering cells.
In addition, its eyes have a totally
overlapping view, doubling sensitivity.
The spider can see in one tenth of the light
we need,
so on the darkest night it can still hunt.
It first constructs a unique kind of web,
one that is held by its legs.
Poised like a miniature gladiator, the spider
relies on good vision to entrap its victim.
Its eyes are not only sensitive to light,
but react to the slightest movement.
Although far simpler, the spider?s eyes
are similar in design to our own.
But there are many animals with vision
that is remarkably different.
The rising sun?s light filtered by the atmosphere
appears to us as red.
Insects like these are blind to this colour,
but they see parts of the spectrum
invisible to us.
0ur colour vision is sensitive to green,
blue and red,
but the bee is sensitive to green,
blue and ultraviolet.
With only three basic colours,
we both create a full colour picture,
but the bee?s world looks very different.
(Buzzing)
The spectrum has shifted towards the ultraviolet,
and its compound eye
provides a far coarser view.
Seen through a bee?s eye,
flowers become strangely unfamiliar.
This ultraviolet bloom is actually a buttercup.
These are perhaps the true colours of flowers.
The colours we see have no real relevance.
For these hidden hues have evolved
to attract insects.
It?s not only bees
that have this ultraviolet vision.
To our eyes, male and female clouded yellows
look the same.
But to a bee or another butterfly,
the ultraviolet courtship flashing of the male
is strikingly visible.
Insects are also sensitive
to another kind of light invisible to us -
patterns created as the atmosphere
polarises the sun?s rays.
(Buzzes )
These patterns create a sky map
which the bee can use to navigate.
Although normally invisible to us, these patterns
can just be made out with polarised sunglasses.
The bee needs to see only a small portion
of the sky map to find its way home.
Like the bee, the water boatman
has a compound eye.
This consists of an array of tiny lenses.
Although each lens views
only a fragment of the scene,
they combine to create a single view.
The water boatman?s eyes attune
to the polarised light reflected from water.
0ur polarised glasses cut down these reflections,
but the water boatman?s eyes enhance them.
They help it find new breeding pools.
The dragonfly has the ultimate compound eye.
Its vision is four times better
than the water boatman?s.
Good vision is essential
for this aerobatic marvel,
for the dragonfly not only hunts,
but also fights on the wing.
30,000 lenses gather enough information
for skilled manoeuvres.
But this view is still 30 times poorer
than our own.
To match our eyesight, its compound eyes
would have to measure a metre across.
Like us, the dragonfly has eyes
with areas of high resolution.
These are used to spot flying insects
against the sky -
either food, mates or rivals.
Territorial disputes are resolved
by air-to-air combat.
The victor returns to patrol its territory.
(Quacks )
Birds have the most complex colour vision
of any animal.
The light-sensitive cells of the eye
contain up to five different colour pigments.
These pigments detect many more colour hues
than we can see.
The cells of the eye also contain
coloured oil droplets.
These act like miniature filters
and reveal even more colours.
While many birds appear to use oil droplets
to improve their colour vision,
sea birds may use them for a different purpose.
The eyes of terns have a high concentration
of red oil droplets.
It is believed that these act as haze filters
cutting out the reflected blue light of sea mists.
For terns and gulls that feed communally,
these haze filters may help individuals
locate feeding flocks.
The terns concentrate over schools of sand eels.
As they hover, they use sight to single out
a fish from the shoal.
Their eyes cannot focus under water,
so they simply take aim, then dive.
(Squawking)
Although terns cannot cope
with the change of focus needed below water,
there are some fishing birds that can.
Like most animals, a cormorant focuses light
using both a lens inside the eye,
and a cornea on the outside.
In air, the cornea starts to focus light
which is then fine-focused by a lens
that can change shape.
Under water the cornea can no longer focus,
which is why we see only a blur.
But the cormorant?s vision is still crystal-sharp.
By distorting its lens,
it can compensate for the now useless cornea
and focus better than any other animal.
A cormorant?s eyes may outwit a fish,
but in Mexico there are fish
with vision to outwit birds.
These strange floating blobs are actually eyes.
This is what they see.
The eyes belong to anableps,
better known as the four-eyed fish.
Each eye is divided.
The top half looks for predators such as birds,
the bottom half looks for food.
In this way it can see food and danger
simultaneously.
This distracting display confuses the vision
of predators both above and below the water.
The Great Barrier Reef is home to perhaps
the strangest eyes in the animal world.
Their vision is as bizarre as their appearance.
They belong to a creature
known as a mantis shrimp.
The central band of the eye is the most complex
colour analyser of the animal world.
As it sweeps the scene,
it not only scans for visible colours,
but also for ultraviolet and polarised light.
The eyes are searching for anything
that might be alive.
0nce it?s found a possible source of food,
an analyser is swept across it.
It then brings the second analyser into play,
lining up the scanning lines
like the cross wires of a gun sight.
In the dark and murky waters of the Amazon,
live fish with eyesight as formidable
as their predatory reputations.
In water coloured red by organic decay,
the piranha has eyes that can pierce the gloom.
Its eyes can see rays of light invisible to us.
Here the light we see is rapidly absorbed,
but far-red light still penetrates.
As they hunt for prey, these killing shoals
rely on far-red light to cut through the murk.
For the catfish there is no escape.
Even a mere goldfish has
the visual powers of a piranha.
In our hi-tech world, we use
far-red light for our own protection.
Many security systems use this light,
sometimes known as infrared,
to illuminate guarded premises.
Invisible to human eyes,
but picked up by special cameras,
the far-red light shows up any intruders.
As the truck disappears into darkness,
it is still seen by the security cameras.
The goldfish?s eyes can see it too,
lit by the far-red lamps.
A visual system that evolved
to cope with murky water
is here paralleled by
one of our latest inventions.
But the goldfish has other visual powers.
It not only sees far-red,
it can also see ultraviolet,
a colour at the other end of the spectrum.
A creature we take for granted can see a greater
range of colours than any other animal.
0n our next journey,
Super Sense will explore the world of sound.

BBC - Supersense 1of6 Sixth Sense

2011-06-03T11:16:00.003+01:00
(Hooter blaring)
You are starting a journey
into a world of senses different from your own.
( # Pop music)
(Children screaming)
How do birds perceive the world?
Even a starling responds
to many more sights and sounds than we do.
We experience life through five main senses.
But even these are better developed
in some familiar animals.
A mere goldfish can see colours invisible to us.
A dog lives in a world dominated by smell.
It?s a million times more sensitive
to some odours than we are.
Compared with many animals,
our sense of taste is surprisingly crude.
We may be aware of the touch of a mosquito,
but we?re insensitive to its sound world.
(Whirring)
Perhaps, compensating for our limitations,
we sometimes search
for a mysterious sixth sense.
(Truck engine )
For many animals, an extra sense is a reality.
(Geese honk)
We may look to the stars to divine our future,
but they were used by birds as a more practical
guide long before mankind existed.
Migrating birds
use these constellations to navigate.
Although each day
the sky patterns appear to rotate,
the north Pole Star
remains as a constant reference.
(Birds calling)
At dawn, another celestial compass is revealed.
The position of the sun
is another vital aid to navigation.
Although the sun
changes position throughout the day,
the bird?s body clock allows for this movement
and helps to keep the bird on course.
When these cues are obscured,
the birds fall back on a sixth sense,
one that detects
the magnetic force lines of the earth.
By sensing the angles these lines make
with its own body,
the bird maintains its direction.
As it faces south, so the lines arc away from it.
These force lines surround the earth
as they would a giant magnet
and so always indicate
the position of the earth?s magnetic poles.
With the help of this magnetic guide,
barnacle geese navigate the 1800 kilometres
from Greenland to Isla in Scotland.
Even greater feats of navigation
are shown by the creatures of the sea.
In the murky depths of the oceans,
there are few visible features
to help the animals navigate.
Here, dolphins and whales
are thought to use magnetic landmarks instead.
(Clicking and squeaking)
Variations
in the strength of the earth?s magnetic field
create an invisible landscape of hills and valleys.
Just as we use the contour lines
of a conventional map to indicate altitude,
so these contours show magnetic strength.
The dolphin is thought to follow these contours
to find its way around.
Just where
a dolphin?s magnetic sense organs are located
is still a mystery.
The magnetic sense of some fish
is less mysterious.
The ray can also sense
the earth?s magnetic field as it swims through it.
Tiny pores around the mouth are the organs
sensitive to any magnetic or electric field.
They can even detect the tiny electrical
discharges produced by other life forms.
By sensing such muscular discharges,
the thornback ray finds its food.
It lives on crabs and other crustaceans.
In the streams of Australia, there lives perhaps
one of the strangest of all living animals.
The platypus, although a mammal,
lays eggs like a bird
and also has a bill like a duck.
It can search for food with its eyes shut
because the bill is a remarkable organ.
Not only responsive to touch, it can sense the
electrical discharges of freshwater shrimps.
Although the shrimp?s movements generate
fields of less than a thousandth of a volt,
the platypus can detect these minute
bursts of energy from over a metre away.
For the shrimp, there is nowhere to hide.
Among mammals,
the platypus?s electric sense is unique.
Among fish, it?s relatively common.
Some African lakes
contain over 200 species of electric fish.
The elephant trunk fish uses this sense
to find hidden insect larvae.
All life generates electricity,
either through nervous impulses
or muscular discharges.
Remarkably, many fish
harness their own electricity for navigation.
Modified muscles generate a three-volt field
which is warped by any object the fish passes.
Rocks and plants
all conduct electricity differently.
As they distort the field, the fish
creates an impression of its surroundings
based on conductivity.
The long body of the electric eel
contains a battery of modified muscles.
More then half its length
is devoted to the generation of electricity.
It too
uses a low-voltage electric field to navigate.
By stepping up the voltage,
it can also use electricity to stun.
The final bolt delivers 500 volts of energy.
Electromagnetic waves from a storm
radiate for hundreds of kilometres.
They not only cause radio interference,
they appear to affect animals, too.
Beekeepers notice that bees return to the hive
and become irritable before a storm breaks.
Bees either detect
the electromagnetic waves directly
or sense the changes
in the static electricity of the air.
The same electrical charges
may affect our moods as well.
Ants are also weather-sensitive.
This winged male
is being returned to the nest by a worker.
It had tried to leave
before weather conditions were right for mating.
These winged ants
are the breeding forms of the colony,
and they emerge for only one day.
Sensitive to minute changes in humidity,
temperature or atmospheric pressure,
they spend many weeks
waiting for the perfect mating weather.
Prompted by these unseen signals,
they make their way to the surface.
Ants from nests covering many
square kilometres emerge simultaneously,
maximising their chances for mating.
They need calm and stable conditions,
for mating is carried out on the wing.
The ants swarm over huge areas.
There is safety in numbers, for predators
account for comparatively few of them.
A good weather sense
is also vital for a bird?s survival.
Migration is potentially hazardous.
So in autumn,
birds like house martins and swallows
wait many days for perfect conditions.
They need rising pressure, falling temperature
and winds blowing to the south.
0nly when these conditions are imminent
will they begin their long migration.
But their weather sense is believed
to respond to changes in barometric pressure.
This sensitivity may also give them information
about the pressure changes of altitude.
While on migration,
birds continually adjust their flying height
to make the most of favourable winds.
They also change course to avoid bad weather.
With stops en route for refuelling,
house martins take some weeks
to complete their journey to Africa.
The efficiency of flight
relies on sensing air currents.
Birds have many flight techniques.
Large birds like flamingos
save energy when they can by gliding.
But they need to flap their wings
to maintain height.
Small birds such as quelia finches
use a form of bounding flight,
folding their wings periodically to save energy.
To maintain efficient flight,
birds need information from air currents.
Beneath its breast feathers,
tiny feathers called filoplumes
monitor the changing eddies of air.
This continual feedback
gives the bird fine flight control.
Like birds, the senses of insects are delicately
tuned to changing currents of air.
The locust?s airspeed indicators are its antennae.
As it accelerates,
air resistance causes the antennae to bend.
The locust compensates
by slowing down its wing beats.
It also uses vision to monitor groundspeed.
These flight checks help save energy.
The locust?s flight is so efficient,
it can make vast migrational journeys
of several thousand kilometres.
No animal is more sensitive to air currents
than the scorpion.
Fine hairs on its pincers can detect
the air movements from passing insects.
They monitor the air as the scorpion moves
and help to keep it on course.
For centuries, animals such as scorpions
have been endowed with mystical powers.
Some have even been credited with
foretelling earthquakes or volcanic eruptions.
The snake has this mythological reputation.
With its body
in continual contact with the ground,
it can sense the slightest vibration,
perhaps even the tiny tremors
that sometimes precede a quake.
(Horse whinnying)
0ther animals
also seem to anticipate earthquakes.
Cattle stampede, cats retrieve kittens,
birds sing at the wrong time of day.
(Dog whines )
Heightened senses
may account for much of this strange behaviour.
Traces of volcanic gases
may warn of impending danger.
Electrostatic charges in the air
may provide another sign.
(Rumbling)
(Kitten miaows )
Water animals
can sense vibrations of a different nature.
The gyrations of whirligig beetles
create a flowing pattern of ripples.
By detecting their watery echoes,
the whirligigs can sense their surroundings.
These pond-skaters are using ripples
for a more deadly purpose.
The raft spider has similar skills.
Hairs on its legs
are sensitive to the slightest disturbance.
(Geese honking)
A ripple sense has evolved to perfection
beneath the water surface.
The synchrony of the mackerel shoal
is maintained by a ripple sense.
Each fish creates its own bowel wave.
By reacting to the ripples created by others,
a fish monitors its position in the shoal,
even in darkness.
The ripples are detected through the lateral
line organ that runs the length of its body.
As well as helping this synchronised swimming,
the lateral line
is used to sense the fish?s surroundings.
It?s even sensitive
to the movements of nearby predators.
The grey seal is a master fisherman.
Its success in even the murkiest of water
means it does not simply rely on vision.
Even blind seals are relatively common.
The secret of their success lies in their whiskers.
Not only sensitive to touch,
they also respond
to the slightest water movement,
even the ripples of a fish.
Although the fish?s lateral line helps it
to detect the seal, it cannot always escape.
In the caves of Mexico, there are fish
that construct a view of the world
solely through ripples.
The eyes of the Mexican cave fish
have degenerated totally.
Using only its lateral line,
it can detect the smallest obstacle
and negotiate its way around the cave.
The powers of the vampire bat are legendary.
But superstition ignores the facts
of the vampire?s real super senses.
Like other bats, it can navigate in total darkness
using echoes as a guide.
0nce it has found its victim, the vampire
uses a different technique to locate its food.
The nose leaf is a sophisticated heat sensor.
Insulated from the heat of the bat?s own body,
it is tuned to the blood heat of its host.
It guides the vampire
to those tissues richest in blood.
(Horse snorts )
The heat sense of some snakes
surpasses even that of the vampire.
The North American cottonmouth
finds food by tasting the air or using sight.
But just below the eye,
a special pit provides a second image,
an image formed from the heat
emanating from its intended prey.
Tracked by this pit organ,
darkness provides no sanctuary for the rat.
At the final strike, other heat sensors
in the mouth ensure deadly accuracy.
The shark, perhaps the most feared
of all animals, has an array of supersenses.
It can smell blood from over a kilometre away.
Its eyes are ten times more sensitive to light
than our own.
It can detect subtle changes
in the earth?s magnetic field.
Like rays and certain other fish,
it can also sense the electricity of life itself.
Tuned also to the sound of swimming
and the movement of water,
the shark is the perfect killer.
Electricity will guide the final attack.
0n its next journey,
Super Sense will explore the world of vision.

BBC Lost Land of the Jaguar

2011-06-03T11:16:00.000+01:00
If you think the whole world
has been explored...think again.
Travel north from the Amazon,
and you'll find another jungle -
a true wilderness.
Its interior uncharted,
its animals uncatalogued.
Guyana.
Now an international team of
expert naturalists
are coming to search for the species
hidden in this forgotten forest.
We've come somewhere no-one's
ever been before,
and it's one of the most
spectacular places on the planet.
There are probably hundreds, if
not thousands, of species here
that haven't been seen by anybody,
and we will find them first.
Guyana's forest - unspoilt,
unprotected and under threat.
Our job is to prove that these
forests have more value alive
than razed to the ground.
Guyana.
It's the size of Great Britain,
with the population of Liverpool.
Nearly everyone lives on the
narrow strip by the coast.
But travel south
and there's rainforest
for hundreds and hundreds of miles.
The only way to
base camp is by boat.
A ten-hour journey
from the nearest dirt road.
I was amazed, you know,
when we were flying in,
there was a few little houses.
Yeah, nothing. And that was it.
The good stuff's in there, not here.
George, you've got about six weeks
to get in there and find stuff,
don't be impatient! Calm down!
Faster, let's get there!
It's a land full of giants.
Giant otters,
the biggest spiders in the world,
enormous caiman,
eight-metre anaconda,
and the biggest cat in South
America - the mysterious jaguar.
This forest is untouched.
But in two years they could be
logging these trees.
The team's destination - a base camp
built by the advance party.
Each team member has
a different speciality.
Gordon Buchanan will be
searching for the large mammals.
My job on this expedition is
to try and find and film as many
different animals as I can.
If I could pick only two animals,
the first would be giant otters,
and the second, the most
difficult one, would be the jaguar.
Justine Evans
is a canopy specialist.
She documents life
at the top of giant trees.
The forests have barely been
explored on the ground,
let alone in the canopy.
I want to get up there and just see
what's going on.
Absolutely stunning.
Steve Backshall will
be exploring places
other naturalists cannot reach.
In his search for animals,
he'll attempt a first ascent
up a remote mountain
and a daring descent
down a giant waterfall.
It feels like I'm completely
underneath it,
completely surrounded by it.
And the last expedition member,
Dr George McGavin
from Oxford University.
He's leading the science team
from a jungle laboratory
right in the heart of camp.
If we're concerned about species
loss, which we all should be,
we should be concerned about
keeping the forests intact.
The expedition's aim -
to find what lives here,
and to draw the
world's attention to this -
the largest unspoilt rainforest
left on the planet.
SHOUTING
The team are still unpacking when
there's a shout from the riverbank.
A very rare monkey's been spotted.
There, there. See it? There, there.
We've got a bearded saki, a monkey
on the tree over there.
Can just see a bit of movement
in the foliage, but I can't
actually see the monkey yet.
It's not easy to see him. Not
at all. Here we go, I've got one.
They just wag their tail
back and forward, it's
quite typical behaviour in them.
But it's... Oops! Got a bit of
movement up there.
The bearded saki is on
the international list
of endangered species.
It's the best start
they could hope for.
And animals are even
coming into the camp itself.
Steve Backshall takes a look.
That's beautiful.
One of the common names for it
is the Amazon forest dragon. Yes.
What I love about these is,
to begin with they're skittish,
but once they sense that you
mean them no harm,
they'll quite happily sit in
your hand and barely move at all.
He is absolutely beautiful.
That's definitely one
to add to our tick list.
The expedition's working closely
with Guyanese trackers.
They know these jungles
hide dangerous creatures.
For the new arrivals,
there's a safety briefing.
The jungle is an alien environment
for most of us and there's a
few things we need to bear in mind.
We have had 9ft caiman down
on the landing just outside of camp
only a couple of days ago,
so be conscious that there are caiman
and they are very dangerous.
There are very big piranhas in the
water. Swimming far away from
the shore is probably not advised.
Snakes that we need to be concerned
about are the viper family -
rattlesnakes, pit vipers,
the infamous bushmaster,
and also the coral snakes.
Scorpions are here.
As a general rule, the ones
with the fat tails are the worst.
There's some very large tarantulas
but the small things
are the worst things.
Don't put your hands into holes
cos that's where you'll get stung.
First light next morning,
the team split up to start
their specialist surveys.
Gordon's on a recce of the river.
This whole part of the world is
just riddled with waterways,
and this is one of the major ones,
but joining on to it,
these rivers are smaller rivers,
tiny little creeks,
so it's on the little country lanes,
the little cul-de-sacs,
that you find interesting stuff.
First on Gordon's list is to see if
he can find the rare giant otters.
They're top predators. Perfect
indicators of a river's health.
As you can imagine, something
the size of a giant otter is going
to leave one or two signs.
Hey, look at this here, look.
When you've got a bare bank,
like this, it's a very good place
to find otters.
They're the biggest otters
in the world - three times larger
than any otter in Europe.
Their favourite meal - piranhas.
Wow, look at this. This is a
very clear sign that there's otters
in this area, and very recent.
I wouldn't be surprised if this
wasn't this morning.
Their toes are not that much
smaller than my fingers.
If you think of an otter that has
hands almost the same size as mine,
actually the otter itself
is almost the same size as me.
They're big, big beasts.
Just put a little bit of tension
on it, makes it quicker and easier.
While Gordon's on the river,
Justine's high in the treetops
building an observation post,
with the help of Steve
and the climbing team.
Tree-climbing in the rainforest is
hot, sweaty, there's endless bugs,
ants, wasps, bees, all of which hate
you invading their world,
and...yeah, it's tough old work.
It's good that you can see a
little bit through the under storey.
If you look that way a bit,
that's not bad,
actually, that direction.
Steve hauls up her platform.
Justine will spend ten hours
every day on a square of aluminium
the size of a card table.
That's as far as it will go.
We're on the end of the pulley now.
Sound as a pound,
that's not going anywhere.
Yeah, it's a pretty good spot.
It's not got a brilliant view,
but it's a good start.
At 17, Gordon swapped his job
washing dishes on the Isle of Mull
for an apprenticeship
filming wildlife in Brazil.
Oh, look here, look.
His years in the Amazon taught him
the skills of jungle tracking.
Very easy to follow this.
It's just a detective story, when
you're looking for wild animals,
but with giant animals,
they leave giant traces.
Watch out for snakes.
The fact that there's
been a giant otter here,
the chances are,
they've never been hunted,
and I'll be interested to see
how they react when they see me.
Justine's survey
relies on a vital piece of kit -
a high-definition camera.
This lens can magnify
up to 80 times,
perfect for capturing
canopy creatures.
I can zoom in really, really
close with this,
so I can see a monkey 200 metres away
and still be able
to get in close enough
to actually see whether it's
a male or female,
anything that will identify it.
And we're here to assess this place,
or me, particularly,
to see what's up in the canopy,
so I've got to be up here
all daylight hours.
The expedition's based in
a patch of forest
that's been leased to
the organisation
Conservation International.
The surrounding jungle
stretches for hundreds of miles.
But now large swathes are soon to
be explored by logging companies.
Guyana's at a dangerous crossroads.
It can either exploit what it's got
and make a quick buck,
or, if we can show what is here,
and the rarity
and the diversity of this area,
and that's why I'm here, is just
to prevent the worst-case scenario.
The team believe this could be
pristine rainforest -
the animals never hunted,
the ancient trees still standing.
In the 21st century,
that's rare indeed.
In base camp,
the scientists are hard at work,
recording all their discoveries.
Their report will be presented
to the President of Guyana.
Finding any new or endangered
species will strengthen
the case for conservation.
Hind legs are way back almost...
It's like a cricket.
..twice the size of the body.
That is the weirdest thing
I've ever seen in my life.
It's a fly, hasn't got any wings...
George McGavin's great passion
is for insects.
At first I thought it was a cricket,
a tiny cricket, but it's a bat fly.
Insects make ecosystems work.
Without bees, for instance,
you'd have no flowering plants,
no vegetables, no fruit.
So without the insects, you simply
wouldn't have the big animals.
From the tiniest bugs to the largest
birds, there's over a million
known species living in rainforests.
George believes there could be
another 5 million
still waiting to be discovered.
Oh, I say! Look at that.
Fallen trees like this are
an amazing resource for
insects and bugs, and stuff.
They're not always hollow enough
to crawl inside. Oh, that's...
Yeah, it looks rather nice.
The worry is that there are snakes
up here, or scorpions, so I'll
take my ultraviolet scorpion torch.
Oh, look at that.
Oh! It is big, it is a biggie!
This is going to be epic.
Now, there's a bat.
Look, look, look over there. See it?
There's about three of them.
Is there anything else in there?
That's the worry.
Let's go, let's see what's in here.
It's like crawling into
a large peaty tube.
It's an extreme habitat,
very rarely explored.
And straight away, he's coming
up against new creatures.
There are crickets everywhere, and
the interesting thing about them is,
I haven't seen these ones before,
and I'm going to have to
try and collect some of these.
Oh, there's a monster there!
Look at that!
They've got these enormous antennae.
These crickets are adapted to
very dark, wet places.
There's a brown cricket as well,
and I'm not quite sure
if this is the same species.
I'm just going to try and grab this,
and you really have to be
incredibly quick. Here goes...
Ooh!
Ah...
Fallen giants litter these jungles.
Every day, strong winds
and weak roots bring another
colossus crashing down.
These jungle trees look solid on
the outside, but can be eaten
hollow by termites on the inside.
30 metres up, fragile trees
are not something
Justine wants to worry about.
Now, after two days of waiting,
she sights something moving.
I finally got
a glimpse of a squirrel monkey.
It's so difficult.
They're so quick.
Ah, there's one.
It's gone.
They seem to be mostly adults and
some larger young, but there's no
babies being carried by mothers.
Big group, though.
Squirrel monkeys.
They're common
in South America's forests.
They move through the canopy
in large groups.
This one's searching for
caterpillars on new leaves.
It's obviously feeding on insects.
That's why they seem to be moving
so quickly. I think they're just
snatching at whatever they can find.
Ah, there's a good view.
Are they going up this branch?
Must be a main travel route,
probably the only travel route
through this section.
Jumping off into the other tree.
The fruiting season's gone, and so
there are probably very few fruiting
trees in the forest at this moment.
RUSTLING
What was that?
Probably just a tree falling down...
George is now 25 metres
inside this fallen giant.
This is amazing.
Look what we've got here.
This is a whip spider.
These long bits are
actually its front legs
and because it lives in darkness...
You can see how it's
feeling my finger there.
It uses these very long legs
to feel its prey,
and its prey
are these cave crickets here.
And, very sneakily,
sometimes the whip spiders
reach behind the cricket
and just go tickle, tickle
on the back end,
and the cricket jumps forward
into the jaws of the whip spider.
It's a really clever trick.
The further I go into this,
there's bigger and bigger
whip spiders.
Oh, there's an absolute monster
over here!
There are now,
on this part of the roof,
13 crickets and five whip spiders,
who are just queuing up
to eat them.
Little is known about the
biology of these weird predators.
Somehow, George has to catch one
to take it back to the lab.
One's just crawled across my face!
Because it's now getting really,
really tight,
I have a bit of a problem.
HE WHEEZES
It's as hot as a sauna,
and crawling with bugs.
George is in his element.
Ah!
Just one sec.
I can't...
I can't get out of this...
This hole's too tight. Argh!
I feel like a beetle grub
emerging from...
from its long period
of metamorphosis!
HE LAUGHS
Actually, I think I am stuck!
All I can say is,
I don't think I've had as much fun
in a log for a long time!
Usually, George only sees
these bizarre beasts
dead in a museum drawer.
It's a rare chance
to examine them alive.
Isn't that wonderful?
That is the ultimate animal
for hunting for prey in the dark.
It's flattened, it's fast, it's got
big, spiky palps at the front end,
incredibly long legs
for just feeling its prey.
If you designed an organism
for catching crickets in the dark,
this is it.
And once the poor animal is trapped
in those spines at the front,
that's it,
there is no escape from that.
Dinner tonight - piranha.
How is it? Looks good.
I'm absolutely famished.
I'm hungry, yeah. Piranha teeth.
Is it piranha teeth? Look at that!
They do have the most
extraordinary teeth. I'm a bit, er...
Put some falsies in! Careful,
George, put that through your upper
lip and you'll know about it!
They're swimming in the river?
Uh-huh.
Can someone pass the
evil fire sauce down, please?
That is far too much of that.
You're gonna die.
He's beginning to regret that now!
Yes! Yes!
Although the expedition
starts in base camp,
each team member will also explore
even more remote parts of Guyana.
Today, Steve and the climbing team
are heading out.
There are some areas that have
very different forest
to the stuff that we're in right now.
Over in the west of the country,
there are these exposed beds
of ancient, ancient rock,
and one of the world's
most spectacular waterfalls.
And that's where the next leg
of my journey's taking me.
His destination - Guyana's
only National Park, hidden deep
in the heart of the forest.
At its centre - Kaieteur Falls.
Five times higher than Niagara.
Each day, 60 million tonnes of water
flow over these falls.
40 kilometres from the nearest road,
just a handful of tourists fly in
to view this wonder of the world
from the top.
But no-one has fully explored
the unique habitat
around the plunge pool.
That's the task for Steve
and climbing supervisor, Tim Fogg.
That is a very long way down.
We're going to try a recce,
have a look for
the best place to descend,
and I really want to get a feel
of the world behind the waterfall.
At base camp, an eerie sound
echoes deep in the forest.
DISTANT CRIES
The ghostly call
of the howler monkey.
Justine's on her way
to her treetop perch.
It's the sound she's
been hoping to hear.
I can hear distant howler calls,
but it's quite a way.
The thing is that there was a
group calling out in this direction
but they could just be
sitting quietly in the treetops,
and we wouldn't know they were there.
CACOPHONY OF CRIES
It's the most unearthly sound,
the sound of howler monkeys.
It sounds like
a huge dragon in the distance.
A healthy population
of howler monkeys would be a
great sign of an untouched forest.
They're easy to hear,
but much harder to find and count.
There's a chance that, in a while,
they might start moving around,
and hopefully come this way.
Just a waiting a game,
we have to see.
Down on the ground,
they're surveying species
on the forest floor.
Guyanese scientist,
Doctor Raquel Thomas,
is an expert on rainforest trees.
Some of these were growing before
Columbus came to the Americas.
This tree here, I reckon would be
about 500 to 600 years.
In the five days since they've
arrived, they've catalogued over a
hundred different types of animal.
Every little hair has got
hairs on it,
and on the end of the small hairs,
you've got tiny hairs.
Gordon's had no luck
in his search for large mammals.
They're particularly hard
to track down,
especially the elusive big cats.
I spent two years in total
in another part of the Amazon,
and I saw a wild jaguar
for 30 seconds,
and that's two years straight,
so that's how difficult it is.
Gordon's returned to the creek
with the otter tracks.
He's setting a trap, a camera trap.
It looks very complicated,
but the concept's very simple.
It's an infrared beam.
When that gets broken,
the camera starts running.
It's a huge amount of effort to put
this in. That's why I think we have
to leave it for at least a week.
We don't even have to come every
day. We just leave it and come every
three days or so, keep an eye on it.
Then it's back to the canoe
and on with the search for otters.
At Kaieteur Falls, Steve
and the team have set the ropes.
I wouldn't go straight over,
I'd step down now onto the ladder.
Tomorrow, he will lead a team to
the bottom to search for animals,
but today he must first
test the gear and take a look
at the route down.
..So that rope goes into that.
There's always that horrible fear
of stepping off
a perfectly good, solid surface,
and just back into space,
isn't there?
You can't go much further because
I've got to get this bag to you now.
His helmet-camera
will record all he sees.
This would have to be one of the most
dramatic places in the world.
Totally unspoilt.
There's nobody here but us.
But it's very hard to enjoy it
when your heart is thumping.
It's just this
boiling steam below us.
Just push out.
Oh, wow.
Oh, my ropes
are rubbing over this rock,
and it's sharp.
The cliff has a severe overhang.
It's only when Steve's on the ropes
that he can get a close look
at the rock face.
Tim, I've dropped under the overhang
and it's absolutely
extraordinary down here.
Directly beneath me, it's dropping
straight into the plunge pool
at its most turbulent.
It'd be like dropping into
the world's worst whirlpool -
total suicide. Over.
OVER RADIO: That's confirmed
everything that we suspected,
but it was worth going down and
getting a better view of it. Over.
Yeah. From this angle, I can see a
good line where we could come down.
If we were to actually head
around to the base,
there's a line that looks like it
drops down onto reasonable territory.
Steve has dropped
as far as he safely can.
Tomorrow, he'll descend to the very
bottom to start his survey.
I'm actually swinging right
underneath the curtain of water.
George is on his daily quest
for new insects.
Oh, wow!
This is one of the wonders
of the animal world.
This is a trail of army ants,
and there are literally
tens of thousands of them.
Army ants are swarm raiders.
Their marauding column pushes
through the jungle, killing
anything too slow to escape.
You'll see spiders and cockroaches
jumping out the way.
He's trying to get away
but it's no good. They'll have him.
Their prey are pulled to pieces and
carried back to feed their young,
living deep
in the heart of this tree.
What would be really great
is to come back really early,
about 4.30am, 5.00am,
and have a look inside and actually
see what's happening in there.
If we hit it at the right time,
when they're on the move,
wow, that'd be fantastic.
30 metres above, Justine is
still patiently scanning the canopy
for howler monkeys.
This afternoon,
the wind is picking up.
I've come up a really great tree,
it's got a fantastic view,
but it's more like a stalk
sticking about 45 metres
straight out from the under storey.
It's also really windy today.
There's a big gust coming in now,
and the whole tree
is just swaying around.
I'm actually getting motion sickness,
coupled with the vertigo
I was experiencing earlier!
It's quite an experience
being up here today.
Gordon's been searching for otters
since first light,
but it seems
everything is against him.
Hang on.
This is getting a bit unpleasant.
It's getting really hot
and kind of uncomfortable,
I've got ants crawling all over me
and I just snared up the prop
in some weeds again.
It's like wire, this stuff.
Oh, and I've just broke my knife!
Man, that's annoying!
To make it all worse,
I've got this
very painful blistering
all over my chest.
This is very uncomfortable.
George is suffering too.
He's covered in bites from his crawl
through the log.
There's a definite reaction. Mm.
I just want to keep an eye
on that one, George, whether
that one's getting infected.
It's been a long day
for the whole team.
Yeah.
But one member of the team
is having rather more luck.
While Steve hangs on the rope,
a flock of swifts starts
heading straight towards him.
Look at that!
They nest behind the waterfall.
They're coming in very
close to the overhang here to
keep away from the spray.
As they come in, they're banking
and rolling just like fighter jets.
Right past my ears.
Whoa! Look at all those swifts!
Wow!
Oh, that is unbelievable!
Next morning, well before dawn,
Justine is woken by a distant roar.
It's the howler monkeys again,
and they're getting nearer.
I don't know what time
it is, but it's very early.
HOWLING IN DISTANCE
Seems a bit weird putting
ski socks on in the tropics,
but it's best to do this
to keep all the chiggers
and nasty biting things off.
The precious cameras
are the only objects in the camp
kept warm and dry.
With all the gear on her back,
Justine starts the long trek
through the last of the night.
George is also up early.
He's heading to the
army ant bivouac.
He needs to arrive before
the column is on the march.
Here it is.
Here's the tree.
We've got up at five o'clock
and they're not even up yet.
Ah...
What you've got is a camera
on the end of this little tip here,
and a little light and I can push
that right up into the colony.
Perfect. Perfect.
His aim is to
probe deep inside the colony
and perhaps even spy the queen.
Ooh, there they are. There is the
outside of the main ball of ants.
Ooh, yes.
They're not happy about that.
There's a soldier, look at
the head of that thing.
He's not happy about that.
That squawking noise
was a macaw flying over.
There he goes, in fact two of them.
Oh, my God.
Macaws, macaws, macaws.
I've been hearing
lots of macaws calling.
This is the first time I've
got a good shot.
I'm just managing to film them
through this foreground tree,
which is causing all sorts of blur.
That's it, one of them's just
moved into a clearer position.
Ridiculous red colour,
almost unbelievable, really.
But macaws are the
first thing to disappear
when humans come into an area.
They're taken by hunters for the
pet trade, also for meat.
A single macaw can sell for more
than a year's wages in Guyana.
The colony's out on the move and
they're now swarming all down here.
That was very quick, actually.
One of the great tricks about
army ants
is that they've got
hooks on their feet,
and they can join up their feet
and they can make a bridge.
George still hasn't seen the queen,
but first he has to get
past the soldiers.
They're vicious and it's not only
their giant pincers -
they also
inject a dose of formic acid.
I'm just going to push this right
into the middle of the colony.
Oh, it's big.
Oh, my goodness, look at that.
It's a huge colony.
It's massive! It's not often you
get to see
right into the heart
of a colony of army ants.
That is a very privileged view. Ooh!
Ow, ah!
Not going to see their queen,
not today. Agh!
HE GROANS AND LAUGHS
This is all very bizarre...
Ow! Ow!
..sitting quietly up here,
waiting for my monkeys and...
George has found an army ant colony.
I guess that's what it is
cos you can hear him howling
with pain in the background,
down in the under storey.
Entomologists 0, army ants 1.
I think I'd rather be up here
actually, even if it is
with mosquitoes and midges
than being mullered by army ants.
They're a crazy lot, entomologists -
especially George.
The rest of the scientists
are back in the jungle lab,
where the checklist of animals is
increasing every day,
including this horned frog,
perfectly camouflaged
to ambush prey in the leaf litter.
But this jungle
isn't just home for amazing animals.
Keeping rainforests intact is vital
in the fight against climate change.
This region's forests alone
locks away
forty thousand million
tonnes of carbon.
Forests are important for the
global welfare.
Climate change depends on it.
Biodiversity depends on it.
People depend on it.
Guyana's a very poor country.
Logging these forests
would be a simple way to
raise much needed revenue.
But Guyana's president
recently approached Britain
with a green alternative,
keeping the forests standing
in exchange for carbon credits.
Guyana's forest is not only important
for Guyana but is also
important for the whole globe.
The Stern Report has concluded
that keeping forests intact
is a highly cost-effective
way to combat climate change.
In Guyana, they're still
waiting for a decision.
At Kaieteur Falls, there's
an air of quiet concentration.
This time Steve aims to go all the
way to the bottom
and spend 48
hours surveying this habitat.
We've got no real information about
what kind of terrain is down there.
We know for sure that it's gonna
be very slippery and very dangerous.
You're gonna have to lean forward,
Steve. It's very, very tight.
Go on, go on, go on. Yes, good
job - and move sideways now, Steve.
That's great. Well done, mate. Woah.
As Steve starts his descent,
the mist rolls in.
Almost as soon as I
stepped over the edge,
this thick fog just started to rise
up from the base of the waterfall,
and I can't see where I'm going,
where I'm heading to, and
no-one above can see me either.
Justine's spotted
something moving in the trees.
Saw a flash of red then,
looks really like a howler monkey.
Where is it?
There, there, there.
Yes, yes, that's it. There's a male.
God, they look grumpy, don't they?
Don't think they are grumpy,
it's just they have
that permanent expression
of being very miserable with life.
Fantastic. There he goes.
You can really see the
use of the prehensile tail,
just like a fifth limb.
It's like a safety rope.
It's the last thing that's released.
They spend nine hours every day
chewing their way through
the tough rainforest leaves.
The other 15 hours,
they sleep.
There's two others in the tree,
there's a big male at the top there.
He's coming down.
Ooh, taking a good look at me.
Amazing, he's probably nearly 200
metres away but he's really,
really staring at me.
Well, things are looking up.
It's the trickiest
part of Steve's descent.
Overhanging rocks covered in slime.
Oh, uh-ha-ha...!
He's constantly
drenched in spray from the falls.
This rock is the slippiest ground
I've ever been on in my life!
I've never seen anything like it.
If this is what it's like hundreds of
metres from the waterfall,
I dread to think what it would've
been like at the bottom of it.
I am down on solid ground
and off the main rope, over.
'That's very good news.'
Tim, this place is every bit as steep
and slippery
and dangerous as we
thought it would be, but it's much,
much wetter and it's very windy
down here and it's pretty miserable.
I want to get out of
this as soon as I can, over.
Let's get you somewhere a bit
more protected and warmer.
Understood. Out.
With Steve safely down, he's joined
by the cameraman
and a dripping wet Tim Fogg.
You all right, mate?
Bad weather down here,
it's a bit damp.
THEY LAUGH
They must find shelter,
but also keep their eyes skinned
for any animals they can see.
There's loads of little...
freshwater crabs
just running around here.
Because it's wet the whole time,
they're completely comfortable.
They're just feeding on the algae
which they're picking
off these rocks,
and because this place is
drenched in water the whole time,
they're absolutely everywhere.
This is just the
perfect place for crabs.
It really is like
being on the bottom of the sea.
There's been a sighting -
a family of giant otters
glimpsed heading down-river.
We really have to keep our
eyes open because they're big,
but still tricky to see.
Right bank, right bank.
A head's popped up. I don't know
whether they've gone into the shrub.
After a week of searching,
at last this is Gordon's chance to
start observing these shy animals.
Dan, do you think they're still in
front of us? I can't see them.
They're in the undergrowth.
Everyone just keep
their eyes wide open.
The otters let out warning snorts.
Oh, beautiful, just
coming straight towards us.
They're interested, not in
fishing, they're interested in us.
Oh, man, that's so nice.
OTTER SNORTS
Sun just glistening off their heads.
Oh, there's four of them! Man alive!
Sorry, guys. Oh, jeepers.
What?
Oh, man.
That was unreal.
That was something else.
What I love is when an animal, and a
wild animal interacts with you,
they're not scared,
they just want to check us out,
find out what we are and they've
given us an opportunity to see them.
Woah! Close, man.
Look at this!
Ha!
That's exactly what I was hoping
to find.
It's a tree frog, for sure.
You just look at the
big suction cups on each toe.
Look at the way that he's moving
across my hands there.
He is a frog that is
absolutely designed for climbing.
He looks a little bit actually like
the gladiator tree frog and he also
has on the thumb of each hand,
this little protuberance here, which
is used for boxing with other frogs.
Let's put him back.
You're a very lucky frog.
You live in frog paradise.
Gordon has now followed the otters
for two miles up the jungle creek.
Softly, softly, he's getting closer
and closer.
Just creeping down the creek,
with Gerry paddling.
I just don't want the otters
to go overland.
As soon as they go overland,
we've lost them.
Otters right here,
can't see them yet. Just hear them.
Beauty, they are so beautiful.
They've seen us.
OTTERS SNORT
Their beautiful fur was
almost their undoing.
A century of persecution drove
them to the verge of extinction.
This group is so at ease,
it's clear there's no hunting here.
OK, there's one coming
right towards us now.
OK, and he's got a fish.
Feeding. OK, nice and gently.
Stay very still.
Giant appetites need giant portions.
Plate-sized piranha - bones and all.
What's he caught? Piranha.
And they always eat them tail first
for obvious reasons. The youngster.
Oh, lovely. This is just exactly
what I've been wanting to see.
Giant otters
completely naturally.
Oh, that's what
happens when somebody's got a fish
and somebody else wants it.
That's not going to last long,
they have a voracious appetite.
Oops.
And off he goes, off to
catch another one - awesome.
At the waterfall, Steve
and Tim have a desperate struggle
to bring the
kit down in the freezing spray.
I've never been this cold right
slap bang on the equator before.
They need to get dry
as quick as they can.
HE COUGHS
We don't want to go that
way, we want to go lower.
Let's head down this way.
They must find a spot to
pitch camp before night sets in...
but in this boulder field,
there's little chance.
At base camp, the mood is up.
The team have fallen under the
spell of this enchanting forest.
This is pristine, this is intact,
this is as pure as it's ever going
to be. Let's just keep it that way.
It's clearly not been hunted,
it's just really untouched
and to preserve that in its
pristine state would be fantastic.
WATER RUSHES
Tim, you in there, mate?
It's almost dark
when Tim discovers a tiny cave.
Yeah, this is good.
A sleeping place here.
We'll get at least
one of us in here.
Oh, let's get a brew on.
Oh, the luxury. Mm, brilliant.
The cave floor is just
a jumble of rough rocks.
It's going to be a long night.
At first light, Justine,
as ever, is up her tree.
Now, the family of howler
monkeys have totally accepted her.
She's even found a new
addition to the family.
It's a female, wow.
She's got a baby on her back.
Fantastic.
The haunting calls of these
cautious animals
embody the spirit of
the South American rainforest.
To know there's a healthy
breeding population here
is a great lift for the team.
Ah, there's the big male there.
This is the big alpha boss.
So, there are two males.
This big one, the smaller one and
there are two females,
the one with the baby
and the other one.
Another piece in the puzzle.
Beautiful animals.
They're absolutely stunning.
After a big breakfast
of green leaves,
the whole family settles
down for a long morning snooze.
For Steve and the team,
it has been a really miserable
night without a wink of sleep -
and they weren't alone.
We had visitors last night.
I got up, turned on my
head torch and hundreds
of cockroaches and cave crickets just
scampered for the shadows,
and they'd been having a go
at our food.
There's just
holes in absolutely everything.
Mind you, I left my mug full of
sticky hot chocolate last night
and they've cleaned it out completely
so I don't have to do the washing up.
Fantastic!
It's not just cockroaches
and the crickets
that we're sharing our cave with,
it's absolutely alive
with these rocket frogs
and this one here actually has really
well-developed eggs on its back.
It's carrying around its
tadpoles inside the eggs.
You can even see little bubbles
of air coming out of each egg.
This species doesn't actually
go through the free-swimming
tadpole stage at all.
The eggs will develop
on their mother's back right through
until they're froglets, and they'll
hatch out ready to hop about.
It's just enormous.
Yeah.
Finally, Steve can begin his
real challenge -
to survey the
plants and animals down here. Woah!
The slippery vegetation
conceals deep pitfalls.
No ground there.
It would be a
terrible place to break a leg.
The pools of water that gather in the
leaves made by these bromeliads
are a really challenging
place to make a home.
But there's plenty of creatures
down here that manage it.
Possibly the most appealing of all
of them though is this little guy.
There, look at that.
Isn't he gorgeous?
Oh, look, on the leaf.
It's a golden rocket frog
and the only place in
the world you find these is in
the Kaieteur National Park.
From egg to tadpole to frog,
this single plant can be
their home for life.
These really are the most
exquisite little jewels
and every other bromeliad around here
has one or a pair living in it.
It's not just the animals
that are exotic down here.
There are wonderful plants absolutely
everywhere around here,
but nothing as exquisite as this.
This is a slipper orchid
and it's very aptly named.
You can almost imagine
some dainty Cinderella
slipping her toes into that.
This'd be worth an absolute fortune
to orchid collectors back home.
But here,
they are just about everywhere.
It's a bit like strolling around the
Chelsea Flower Show,
except that
you've got that in the background.
I think this really brings home just
quite how unspoilt Guyana is.
The Kaieteur is the country's only
real tourist attraction,
but we were up on top for three days
and didn't see a single person
and down here, well, you could count
on one hand the amount of people who
have seen what we're looking at now,
and, you know, it's five
times the height of Niagara.
You're just standing here with this
water in your face -
it's completely overpowering.
Gordon is checking whether
his camera trap has worked.
It's been lying in
wait for a week now.
Hard to say whether anything's
been up here because of the rain.
With any luck, it will have filmed
the otter family out of the water.
Ah, the tape has reached the end.
So we have one hour of stuff.
OK, we've reached
the beginning of the tape.
Play.
Oh, curassow!
I actually saw...
curassow the other day quite
close to here, three of them,
so I wonder if it's the
same ones. Two.
He's camera-shy, this one.
That's very nice.
Oh, hang on,
hang on.
On the top of the log
there's something, sort of,
spotty, like a cat.
I mean, it might
have been an ocelot.
It's a jaguar!
I cannot believe that.
One of the most difficult
animals in South America to see
was right here, literally.
It walked along this path.
The mysterious jaguar.
Beautifully camouflaged,
extremely rare,
these solitary beasts
roam huge areas of this vast jungle.
It's a fantastic stroke of
fortune to find one here.
That is unreal.
I do not believe that.
I think I said, if we get jaguar,
it's going to be by luck,
not by judgement,
and this is just by sheer luck.
We put this out for otters
and we've got a jaguar.
Unbelievable.
That is incredible.
At the waterfall, Steve is
desperate for some decent rest.
After the discomfort of last night,
I've decided to
set up a basher and sleep outside
in the elements tonight.
I think we've done really well to
have spent two days down here so far
and for no-one to have got hurt.
This place is an absolute death trap,
so fingers crossed everyone
gets through alive and well.
Back at base camp, the rest of
the team have cause to celebrate.
That's the biggest cat
that you'll find in South America.
After just ten days, they've
found howler monkeys, giant otters
and the scientists have
catalogued over 200 animal species.
All evidence of the value of
this virgin rainforest.
And the best news of all,
concrete proof
that South America's legendary
big cat is living and hunting here.
Wow, wow!
But not every member of
the team is celebrating.
All of a sudden a really, really
heavy electrical storm's come in
and the rain is unbelievably heavy.
I have to keep throwing up this tarp
to get all the water off it.
But the most worrying thing really
is that this storm is getting
closer and closer.
It's right overhead and we're
pretty much the only feature in a
landscape at the moment.
This is turning into the most
miserable night of my life.
In the second phase of the
expedition, the team push deeper
into the jungle.
The number of animals they're
discovering goes up and up.
Oh!
This would go right through my hand.
And they climb a remote mountain to
explore a strange new world.
North of the Amazon
lies another jungle,
still unknown and unspoilt -
the rainforests of Guyana.
A team of explorers,
scientists and filmmakers
is in the heart of this
threatened jungle.
Their aim - to survey the animals
in this great wilderness.
Here in Guyana, this is pristine -
it's untouched. Unchanged.
Wow! Our job is to prove that these
forests are worth more alive than
they could be razed to the ground.
The expedition is moving into
its second phase
and the team must push harder
to discover more of
the extraordinary creatures
hidden within this rainforest.
There are probably hundreds,
if not thousands of species here
that haven't been seen by anybody.
And we will find them first.
But it's proving tough.
For 48 hours, Steve Backshall
has been battered by one of the
world's most powerful waterfalls
and the worst the elements
can throw at him.
The storm is getting closer
and closer. It's right overhead.
And, er... I'm just
a bit scared, actually,
I'm going to get struck.
I'm pretty much the only feature
in the landscape at the moment.
If there's a lightning strike down
here, then I'm gonna get hit.
Guyana - the size of Great Britain,
with just 2% of the population.
The towns are
clustered on the coast.
Travel inland and you
find nothing but jungle.
In the heart of the forest
lies Kaieteur Falls.
It's five times higher than Niagara,
and sheltering at its base
is expedition naturalist and
climber, Steve Backshall.
Well, that was about the most
miserable night in my life.
I was doing fine
until the storm hit.
And then all of a sudden
I was woken up by this
enormous weight on my head.
And it was just all the water
gathering in my shelter.
And from then on in, it was a
struggle to keep the thing up.
Two nights without sleep
and I am absolutely ruined!
It's been worth it.
He's the first naturalist ever to
explore this unique habitat that's
constantly drenched in spray.
Look at this!
He's discovered a bizarre
world crawling with frogs,
where freshwater crabs scuttle
through a valley full of orchids.
This is one of the most
dramatic places I've ever been.
And just to be completely enveloped
in this mist, it just feels like
you're part of the waterfall!
It's one of the most exciting,
fantastic places I've ever been
in my life!
But it's no place for humans.
For two nights, Steve's had
no sleep and little food.
To get out, he must haul himself
up 240 metres of rope.
Ascending on a rope which is
about as wide as my little finger.
Which is why I'm moving up here
at a snail's pace.
God, it's a long way!
The rest of the team are
in the jungle base camp and
there are monkeys close by.
Gordon - we've got brown capuchins
above the ladies' loo! Mmm.
Gordon Buchanan is an expert on
South America's rainforest animals.
Were you asleep?
About an hour.
I got up at three this morning.
Right, what do I need? Clothes!
What were you dreaming about?
I was dreaming about monkeys,
funnily enough!
Premonition!
His job is to record these animals
on camera.
So far, he's been tracking
creatures through dense forest.
But now wildlife is
coming right into camp.
It's right there, sitting.
I hope that's rain that's
falling down! And not urine!
Two of the scientists, George and
Raquel, spotted the monkeys near
their jungle laboratory. Here.
There!
They're brown Capuchins.
They're foraging side by side
with squirrel monkeys.
There are eight species of monkey
in this part of South America.
The team aims to find out
how many live in this forest.
There's one up here. Look!
That's right overhead.
Oh my God! There's one right here.
He's just having a bite to eat.
Primates are normally nervous
when humans are around.
But this forest is unusual -
it's not been hunted and the
monkeys show little fear of people.
They're after this tree, there's
some fruits in it. I'm seeing him
throwing out the seeds.
Monkeys are important seed
dispersal agents for the forest.
Just being so close to camp,
I am astounded that there's
any activity here from any animal,
let alone a primate.
On the other side of camp, another
monkey has just been spotted
by wildlife camera woman,
Justine Evans.
Yes, I can see, cos he's moving.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Oh, yes! Fantastic.
Got some spider monkeys here.
This one doesn't seem particularly
happy about us being here.
It's making lots of little noises.
Getting a bit upset.
He just threw a branch down at us.
Amazing arms.
Very gibbon like.
This is really an amazing place.
I didn't expect to wander out of
camp and see so much.
Especially from down in
the understorey.
You normally just don't see
anything, it's so hard.
Yeah, it's really great. Good time.
To catalogue the species that
live in this remote jungle,
there's an international team
of scientists on the expedition.
They are working out of
a purpose-built jungle lab
in the heart of the camp.
Studying the plants is Guyanese
biologist, Dr Raquel Thomas.
In this forest we have over 6,000
species of flowering plants.
Every time I come in here,
there is something new to see
and new to learn.
That's why it's important.
In charge of the river survey
is fish expert, Dr Phil Willink.
These are places that we need to
come to now and work in
before they change, before people
move in and ecosystems are impacted.
The expedition's results will be
shared with the Guyanese Government.
It's a very poor country, trying
to decide whether it can keep
its forests intact, or if they have
to be logged for much-needed cash.
Which one is that? That's a wolf
spider. That's a big one.
There's probably species here
that haven't been described yet.
Working with the team
is Dr Russ Mittermeier.
He's the president of Conservation
International which is campaigning
to keep these forests.
In Guyana you still have virtually
all of the forest intact.
And it has the greatest remaining
rainforest wilderness area on earth.
And if we have rainforest wilderness
50 or 100 years from now,
it's going to be in this region.
So it's a fabulous area.
It's unlike any place else on earth.
It really is the hope of rainforest
wilderness for this planet.
For an hour, Steve has
been dragging himself
up the rope inch by painful inch.
Oh, shoot!
HE GROANS
Steve has climbed some of
the world's highest mountains
and run extreme marathons - but
this climb has all but defeated him.
BLEEP!
Absolute hell on earth down there.
It's so cold and wet.
As the rest of the climbing crew
make it safely to the top,
Steve collapses from the exertion.
The expedition medic is on hand.
Here, have some water.
Sit on this bank over here, mate.
How are you feeling now? Fine.
You've just got to rest, mate.
You've just done a big exertion
after the couple of days
down there, as well.
You really have got to chill.
Thanks, mate.
Don't be walking around and don't
be grabbing no ropes up here. OK!
Steve can now return to what should
be the safety of base camp.
But some creatures are
getting too close for comfort.
Oooooh!
This little thing could kill you?
Yes.
They bite, those ants. They're
only little, but they bite hard.
We've invaded their space,
not the other way round.
They're just reclaiming it now.
Ow!
Insect expert Dr George McGavin
has been stung by a scorpion.
Cardinal rule - do not stick your
hand in a bucket you haven't checked.
Right in the finger.
Imagine you've heated up a pin
to about 120 degrees C and you
stab it right through your finger.
I imagine what that would
feel like is what this is.
George's sting is painful,
but not life threatening.
Really funny feeling.
Steve is back in camp and the whole
team gathers for the usual,
piranhas and rice.
The day's work is not done.
After dinner, George has an
unpalatable task for everyone.
He's organised a scorpion clear-out.
They split up and scour the camp.
George told me that he'd seen one
in the bathroom. Bathroom!
Does it look like a bathroom?!
No, it's just a huge hole.
I think I'm getting a bit of
a bum deal here.
Each team is armed with
an ultraviolet torch.
Wow! I've found two tiny scorpions.
I don't believe it.
Under ultraviolet light,
scorpions are easily spotted.
It's amazing how they glow,
isn't it?
Just a little itty bitty one.
Good start. Look at that.
Woo-hoo!
There it is.
George and Raquel have the
biggest catch of the evening.
There he is.
There's the little beauty.
That would have handed you
quite a painful sting.
If I was to ease off the pressure on
these forceps, it would leap forward,
grab my finger,
sting me in the thumb...and that
would be very unpleasant.
The fatter the tail,
the worse the sting.
I haven't seen any really
big ones yet. This is not big?
That's not big, no.
It's big to me!
Scorpions love to crawl into
small, dark places,
so it's a good idea every night to
turn your sleeping bag inside out.
Scorpions aren't the only
unwelcome guests.
There's a highly venomous
centipede in the women's dormitory.
Steve. Steve.
Steve.
I've got a centipede in my bed.
I was quite hoping
you'd remove it for me.
Steve's had years of experience
handling poisonous creatures.
Centipedes are way harder
to handle than any sn...
Yeah, this is called a scolopendrid,
which has a nasty bite to it.
Ooh, it's feisty!
His front feet have adapted into
poisonous, venomous claws,
which he uses for biting.
Every one of those feet has a
nasty toxin, as well, which leaves
horrible scratches on the skin.
He's all right.
Cheers, Steve. Night night.
Thank you!
The heart and soul of the base
camp is the beach.
It's where the fish are gutted,
the boats are stored and where
everyone comes to wash and cool off.
It's a welcome respite from
the stifling jungle heat.
All the sweat, the dirt, the grime.
The one good thing is, you have the
beautiful river out there to bathe
in, because it's fresh water.
Absolutely beautiful.
Justine was coming down
for her morning wash,
but something has changed her mind.
Oh, dear.
There's a big caiman on the beach.
Exactly where I wash. This is
the first proper one I've seen.
The black caiman. It's the largest
predator in South America
and like so many animals around
camp, is growing bolder by the day.
He's one that could quite happily
cause damage to fully-grown adults.
You can see the guys down here
cleaning fish.
That croc is 11, 12 feet long,
and this is exactly the way that
caimans start becoming a problem in
villages round here.
People are cleaning their fish,
the caiman gets bolder and bolder,
and they eventually take some of
the dogs, then it moves up to
taking someone's child.
Whoa!
Caiman are just one of
hundreds of intriguing creatures
that thrive in these waters.
Steve joins Dr Phil Willink
on his survey of fish.
You'd better get something good
out of this, Phil!
It's a freshwater anchovy.
Wow, I can't believe I'm risking
my life for anchovies!
They'll be the first scientists
to search beneath the surface
in this region.
We know very few people have
been up here.
Who knows what's living
in these areas?
There's probably a lot of
new species hiding in these rocks
and these rapids.
The combination of nobody being
here before and a difficult habitat
to collect in, we're gonna
find a lot of new species.
With each passing day, more
animals and plants are being
catalogued in the jungle lab.
Look at this.
This is my baby in here.
George has started a study
of the forest's spiders.
One of these whip spiders
is just about to...
Yeah, look at that.
Look at her egg sac there.
His enthusiasm is not
shared by everyone.
Beautiful! Spiders!
Spiders!
Yeah? That's why I stick to plants!
I'll persuade you eventually.
But George has set his sights on
finding an even bigger spider.
He's discovered a skin shed by
the world's largest tarantula,
the goliath bird-eating spider.
They are here,
obviously, cos there's the evidence
of an empty skin. So there's a larger
one than this somewhere in the area.
Each time it climbs out of its
skin, it's getting bigger?
Absolutely. So it grows a new skin
underneath the old skin,
but those fangs are just pin-sharp.
Cat's claws or an eagle's talons.
And they're really hard.
I've eaten one of these. You've
eaten these? Yeah. Fantastic.
We were filming the Piaroa Indians
in Venezuela.
This is like fast food for them.
I've heard that, after they eat them,
they use...they remove the claw like
this and they actually use it as
a toothpick.
They remove the bits of...
Actually, it works!
That's bloody good, that!
Back on the river, Steve and Phil's
fish survey is off to a bad start.
Their net is caught.
We've either got the biggest fish in
the world or it's attached to a log.
I'm guessing a log.
Is it coming up? No, not at all.
Shall I have a swim?
Go down, untangle it?
What I don't want is for you to go
down there and get tangled in it.
'He's freed the net,
but it's full of piranhas.'
Woah!
'Black piranhas are
notoriously aggressive.'
Great, they're both chewing
holes in my other net now!
He's very close
to taking a chunk out of your arm.
God, look at that!
You could actually see the
scratches it's made in the metal
with its teeth. That is insane!
I can't believe I'm swimming in here!
GRUNTING
What is making that noise?
Is it the piranha?
They're making it with
their swim bladder somehow, yeah.
Whether it's an intentional
form of communication, I don't know.
Wow, that is a really
good-sized piranha. Mmm-hmm.
These are bigger than the
red-bellied ones they had
in all the horror movies.
Look at that!
That is a set of teeth
to be reckoned with.
And if they break or they
get dull, they replace them.
Really? Yeah.
What good's a piranha with no teeth?
'In the river, they're finding some
of the jungle's fiercest predators.
'On land, Gordon's found one of the
jungle's most vulnerable creatures.'
Really difficult to see,
but just taking a round
thing hanging off the tree,
it's a wren's nest, very well
camouflaged.
The nest itself is tiny.
You could easily fit it
in the palm of your hand.
Smaller than a tennis ball.
The bird is same kind of size as
the wrens that you get in the UK,
and the eggs and chicks that it
might have, microscopic, almost.
Yeah, keeping going, Gordon.
'Gordon sets up CCTV
cameras by the nest.
'He doesn't want to disturb
these timid birds,
so he's keeping his distance.'
It takes a huge hassle factor out
of it, because we don't constantly
have to sneak back and forward.
This is something we just power up,
see if there's something going on,
and have somebody monitoring it.
'Guyanese student Defreitas Haynes
will follow the chicks' progress
from the lab.
'It's a unique chance to record the
development of these tiny ant wren
'chicks until they fly the nest,
if they make it.'
This nest has to be so well
camouflaged, because the forest is
full of loads of stuff that will
predate on the eggs or the young.
There's snakes, there's other
reptiles, there's birds,
there's rodents, pretty much
everything will be out
to get whatever's
inside this nest.
It's a very dangerous place
for this little bird.
'They have no defence
against predators.
'They can only rely
on not being seen.
'Steve and Phil's
fish survey continues.
'They've already found
huge piranhas.
'Now, with the help of local
fishermen, they're hoping
for a far more impressive catch.'
SPLASHING
OK.
This is a big fish. Big?
Woah, look at the size of that!
It's a big one!
Oh, that's unbelievable!
That is the banana catfish.
SNORTING AND GASPING
'Surveying fish is not easy.
'They must identify each species
and return them to the water
as quickly as possible.'
You can tell it's called the
banana catfish because it's yellow
on the belly, like a banana.
And probably a good 20 years old,
would you say, Phil? Could be older.
These fish can live for a long time.
This fish is just
covered in parasites.
One popped out! Don't lose it!
We've got another one, Phil!
Where is it? Just down there, look.
Another one there, look. It's
actually scattering blood everywhere.
It's like a full leech! OK.
Let's put our friend here back in,
cos he's absolutely wonderful and
we wouldn't want to harm him.
So, old fella, off you go.
Absolutely fantastic.
Excellent.
Nothing like as exciting as
what we've got in here.
'The parasitic fish Steve's
collected are known as
vampire catfish or candiru.'
Apparently, if you stand in the water
in these areas and go to the toilet,
it will swim up the stream of urine
and right inside you
and lodge inside you, using
two backward facing spines.
These candiru actually swim in,
latch into the gills of a large
fish and drink the blood.
You can see this one here, which
dropped out of the gills, is
absolutely thick
full of blood.
The big lesson, I guess, is, if
you're in the river,
don't go for a wee!
'The ant wren nest is unguarded.
'The parents have had
to go in search of food.
'Now ants have started
attacking the chicks.'
It's not looking good, cos the ants
are increasing and the birds are
going...twitch like
this every so often.
Gordon, ants are swarming...not
swarming, but there are quite a
few ants on the rim of the nest and
they're round and inside the nest.
Oh, yeah, they're right in there.
I'm really worried where the
adults are, cos the adults, I assume,
would come back and just remove them.
Yeah. When was the last
time the adults came in?
Have they been in
within the last hour?
No. Is that usual?
I would have thought at this stage
they'd be coming in more regularly,
at least once an hour.
With food.
Yeah. You're probably enjoying this.
You're not a big fan
of feathered animals.
No, they're OK, but it is a sort of
irony that the ant birds are being
attacked by the ants.
There's an adult.
Oh, look, and a cricket.
A bush cricket, look at that!
That's a whopping great bush cricket!
SQUAWKING
Fantastic. Listen to the noise.
Oh, she's eating it.
Now, is she eating it because she
has to remove the ants?
Let's see what happens. Oh, yes!
There we are.
Come on! Eat those ants, baby!
The ants knew that there was an ant
bird around and off they went,
that's it, gone. This is absolutely
great.
Higher animals need insects.
Insects are the food of the world,
and without insects
you wouldn't have any of this stuff.
'Steve's discovered what
rules the depths by day.
'Now he wants to
learn what hunts by night.'
Ah! Oh, my God!
These are called sabre-tooth
characins, or sabre-tooth tetras.
It's the nearest looking thing to
an actual monster I've ever seen.
It certainly deserves its
sabre-tooth name. That is incredible.
These teeth are so long they need
special sockets in their skull
to accommodate them, otherwise
they would just pierce their brains.
Oh, God, OK. This is a top predator.
They're extremely fast. They swim
around and they come up below fish
and just spear them and just kill
them instantly, just like that.
They spear them, the fish
are immobilised and then eat them.
I've got my fingers
disturbingly close to those teeth.
I would imagine those would just go
straight through to the bone,
wouldn't they?
They'd go right through your hand,
no doubt about it.
They're very strong.
And he's got to go back.
Let's see if I can put him
in without losing my hands!
Yeah, careful.
Now we're seeing the night shift,
the big cat fish, the sabre-tooths.
By day, the piranhas rule
the rivers. You're never safe.
Just going to move very
slowly, keep an eye out for spiders.
'In the dark of the forest,
George and a team of local
'trackers are stalking the
world's largest tarantula.'
You're coming this way?
Yeah, I can see your light.
Have you found a new hole? Over.
You can see it at the hole?
It's there?
INDISTINCT TALKING
OK, I'm on my way. Wait there.
Oh, wow!
There it is. Oh, my goodness!
Theraphosa blondi, the goliath
bird-eating spider.
Oh, wow. Great.
The trouble with this is, the first
fright that she gets and she'll
dive into that hole again and we
won't ever be able to get her out.
That's OK, that's fine. I'm going to
try a little stick to
tease her forward.
Is there any way you could
round the back and block the hole?
'Poor sighted, tarantulas hunt by
sensing vibrations in the ground.
'They wait to pounce on passing
prey.'
She is a beauty.
That's it, that's it, that's it.
Now, these guys don't
normally bite as a first defence.
They normally flick hairs, and
she was flicking hairs.
Let's just block that hole...
'The barbed hairs are designed to
irritate a predator's skin,
eyes and lungs.'
Those hairs are extremely irritating.
I want to cough. Don't let me cough.
Cos if I cough, she'll get a fright.
I'm desperately trying
not to cough at the moment.
OK, it's gone. Thank God for that.
These guys have inch-long fangs,
and you really don't want
that in your finger.
Oh, dear.
Do not cough.
But you see how
incredibly beautiful she is.
She moves serenely like...
Oh, she jumped.
I'm going to try and get her back in
the box, only because I want to see
how heavy she is,
after which we will bring her back
to her hole here.
I've got to get back.
It's flicked the hairs and there were
clouds and it's gone on my face,
gone up one arm, inside my arms.
It's gone up this arm. I've actually
inhaled some of them so I'm coughing.
Which shows what an effective way
of putting off enemies it is.
You don't need inch-long fangs
if you can make somebody
twitch and itch all over. Agh!
'Early next morning, Steve and Phil
are trawling the shallows by camp.'
Look at these ones. We have
around a dozen species right here.
They're all related to tetras.
This is called the characidium.
Here's a cichlid.
Oh, yes. Popular in the aquarium
trade.
Oh, I think we have
something interesting here.
This, I think,
is a brand new species.
No way! Undescribed.
How do you know
just by looking at it?
Because I've worked on the Guiana
Shield before in different countries
and I've seen fish
similar to this in the same genus,
but this is looking very different.
So we'll try to make
some more comparisons.
But I think we have a brand new
species to science right here.
No way! Really. All that hard
work finally paid dividends.
Right here, right by camp,
right with all the piranhas.
And everything else. This is a very
small area, about 10ft wide.
Caught a dozen species.
That just exemplifies how
high the biodiversity is here.
Yeah. Oh, we've got another one! Two.
Great stuff!
I'll get this into the aquarium.
Yeah, thank you.
'All the indications are that this
area is completely undisturbed,
'never fished, never hunted,
and its ancient trees intact.
'In the 21st century, that makes it
a rare rainforest indeed.'
Oh, come on, baby. I want to weigh
you, that's all.
Now, come on, be nice.
Just go in this bag. There you go.
'George's giant tarantula has
spent the night in the lab,
'and he's taking its vital
statistics before releasing it.'
Just feeling her in my hand,
she feels about the weight
of a small spiny rat.
Now, that's 85 grams.
That's a good size.
This is an amazing place.
All the animals here are just huge.
It is a land of giants, this.
You've got giant plants, giant
otters, giant spiders,
giant this, giant that.
You know, and this being the
world's biggest spider species,
for me, is an enormous thrill,
an absolutely enormous thrill.
No way!
'Another animal
has come in to camp.'
Somebody said there was a vulture and
I thought it was just on the tree.
How long has he been here?
Um, just five minutes.
The reason that vultures have a bald
head is because they feed on smelly,
rotting carcasses, and if they had
feathers on their head, it would just
get completely matted up
with rotting flesh
and blood and guts.
So they've evolved to have a
completely bald head so
it's more manageable.
Vultures never wake up with a
bad hair day or a bad feather day.
This system is working like a treat.
We've got live pictures coming from
two very different species of birds.
It's just incredible how
quickly these chicks are growing.
This is all flight preparation,
really, making sure that the feathers
are all in order.
Before too long, they're going to
realise what these wings are for,
and they're going to flutter out.
'In just a few days, Gordon's
surveillance cameras
'have recorded a variety of animals
that live in and around camp.
'So far, most of the expedition
has been focused on a small
area of forest.
'But across the border in
neighbouring Venezuela,
Steve has another challenge.'
Where Guyana meets Venezuela and
Brazil, there's a remarkable range of
mountains called the Guiana Shield.
'Some are totally unexplored.'
The tops of the mountains are
isolated from the forest below, so
anything that lives up there -
plants or animals - is exactly
like it's on an island.
It's growing completely
isolated from everything below.
And that's our mountain.
Look at that!
'Steve's aim as a climber is to be
the first to scale Mount Upuigma.
'His aim as a naturalist is to
discover what lives at the top.'
Nobody has climbed this mountain
before, it's absolutely certain.
We would be the first people
to place our hands on that rock.
'To reach the top, Steve will have
to push himself if he is to succeed.
'Joining him are two of the best
rock climbers in the world,
John Arran and Ivan Calderon.
'Tim Fogg is the rope safety
expert.'
The few biologists that have got on
top of these - they're called tepuis,
these mountains - have found
new species of plants and animals,
and that's what we're hoping to find.
That was a hairy landing!
'A football field in a
tiny Venezuelan village is
the only place to land.'
Hola. Buenos dias. Hola.
This is one of the most
beautiful villages I've ever seen.
This mountain up here is Acopan.
It looks just like a fortress, like
a child would draw a fortress.
And then looming over from the
other side is our mountain, Upuigma.
Look at that. What a place to live!
'There's a 20-mile trek before
they can even think about climbing.
'Their destination, Mount Upuigma.
'Villagers call it The Castle.'
What is it, man?
'In camp, there's a commotion.
'Yet another animal has been
spotted.'
You see it moving there?
In between the hole there? Yeah.
'It's helped itself to food
from the kitchen before
disappearing into the trees.
'Gordon has grabbed another of
his cameras and is on the case.'
This is the scene of the crime.
'He wants to catch the raider
red-handed.'
It has walked through the
kitchen, so there's obviously
something in there that it likes.
It's quite appropriate that
we're using this camera to catch
a thief, cos that's
kind of what they were designed for -
observing people stealing stuff.
Yeah, it is pretty good.
'The trap's set for
the mystery animal,
'but Gordon's taken his
eye off the ant wrens.'
The chicks are gone.
The nest's just here.
The chicks have either
flown the nest or been eaten.
I just can't believe that they're
gone of their own accord.
I'm just hoping it's not something
more sinister.
And the adults are stressed.
There's one of the chicks right here,
just in here.
I thought it was the adult.
It's a female. But just bobbed down.
Lost sight of it.
First he sees one chick...
and then the other.
Oh, brilliant!
That's a very different chick
from when we first met.
Against all the odds,
the chicks have made it.
Fantastic.
As the team gets closer to
the mountain,
the going gets harder.
The approach to the rock face
is steep and heavy going.
Once there,
it'll take three days to climb.
It looks a whole lot different
when you get up close, doesn't it?
Even from a distance you could tell
it was big, but not that big!
You can see some places up there
which are really dark, deep orange.
I think they could be
really dangerous up there.
It's unreliable rock to climb.
Huge chunks can be pulled
away without warning.
They'll start
the ascent at first light.
For now, they need food and rest.
In camp, the mystery thief
is back.
Oh, yes, there it is.
Look at that. Weird.
Opossums. They've been helping
themselves to the kitchen supplies.
We've got two opossums,
just here behind the kitchen.
Goodness me. They're freaky animals.
Oh, wow.
Sweet, isn't it?
They're marsupials. Like kangaroos,
they carry their young in a pouch.
They eat anything,
they're omnivores.
They eats rodents, they'll eat
birds' eggs, they'll eat fruit,
whatever they can get their hands on.
I just wonder if they've
set up home, metres from
where we've set up home.
Isn't it true that in the last week,
things have been coming closer
to the camp all the time?
Yeah, almost every day
there's something new showing up.
Have a look on the ground,
because I saw tonnes of
spiders and ants and things.
Oh, you can see a few wee ants there.
It'd be great if we'd found one
of the big spiders and put this
outside their burrow really close.
There is one. There's a hole
just about 10 yards that way.
Ooh, there we go.
Just ten metres from where
George and Gordon are sitting,
a tarantula is stirring.
Some folks call it the skeleton
tarantula, because it has these
little white marks on its legs.
Oh, what's that?
That is a biggish cicada, that.
Here he goes.
It's going forward.
Oh, it's got it!
What speed! Jeez!
You don't get faster than that.
I haven't seen that
before in the wild, ever.
What's actually happening here,
all spiders can't eat solid food.
They have to eat fluids.
The fangs are being used to draw
the prey towards her and then she's
basically emptying enzymes over it,
in saliva, and then she's supping
the soup of the bug, insect soup,
which she then swallows.
There it is. Oh, wow!
Look at that fang, it's just
tearing it apart.
It's cutting it.
It's just scything through it.
See how quick it was.
I'm loving this! This, this is it.
This is what the world
is composed of.
Mount Upuigma.
First light.
A last meal on solid earth
before the trial ahead.
For three days, they'll have
to eat and sleep strapped
to this mammoth wall of rock.
Isolated from the world far below,
they've no idea what wildlife
they'll find at the top.
We really don't know
where we're going.
Up, I think, is the watchword.
What do you think, what do
you think about the first run?
The thing is,
it's going to be very loose.
OK, sure.
Good luck, mate.
Thank you, I'm going.
Steve will be third on the ropes,
behind Tim and Ivan.
Big block going down!
Jesus!
Are you all right, Ivan?
Cannot talk right now.
I've been waiting
a long time for this,
but having seen Ivan struggle so
hard over this first pitch, I can't
pretend to be particularly, er...
..well, happy about the whole thing.
I think terrified's more the word.
OK, I'm climbing Ivan. OK.
Good luck, Steve.
Ooh, heads, heads, heads!
Every single thing that you hold
onto could ping away at any second.
And the consequences of that would
just be,
well, they'd be death,
there's no two ways about it.
I don't want to sound over-dramatic,
but...
Did you come this way? Yeah.
Oh, dear me.
Very glad I wasn't leading that move.
Not only is the rock sheer,
but in parts overhanging, and the
way ahead is difficult to make out.
Here we go.
My God, Ivan.
Yeah, that's it.
A little bit left.
Right on. Right on.
Very nice, man.
Good job. Good job.
That was hard.
In the jungle, the trees above
base camp are buzzing with activity.
Gordon scrambles for his camera.
Yet another species of monkey
has come into camp.
One of the tiniest in the world -
tamarins.
Keep nice and quiet.
(Great, right here.
They're right here.)
It's so tricky.
I don't know how many there are,
but there's movement up there and
then some more movement over there.
This is a first for Gordon.
They're rare, They're only found in
a very small part of South America.
They're very characterful.
They tend to stick to this
understorey, foraging about,
eating insects,
but being very small, makes them
very difficult to see.
There!
The golden-handed tamarin.
Standing at 25cms tall,
they're pint-sized primates.
They're quite...
They're like gremlins.
They move through the mid-storey,
foraging in family groups.
There's some lovely grooming going
on. Two of them, on the branch here.
Oh, a third one, a little one.
It's a baby one!
To see three of them at one time
is nothing short of a miracle.
There's one right in the open.
Oh, what a beauty!
They supplement their diet
of fruit and insects by sucking sap
from tree trunks.
It's incredible how they cling
on with these big claws.
It's almost like bats' claws
that they have.
I can just see, it's got strings
of gum coming from its tongue.
Fantastic!
That was just absolutely brilliant.
They're such a tough little monkey to
try and follow, even tougher to film.
I think I've nailed it, got some
really, really nice stuff of them.
The tamarins are the final addition
to the intensive survey
around base camp.
This phase of the expedition
is now over.
I've seen new fish,
I've seen a jaguar.
I've seen giant otters,
I've seen bird-eating spiders.
Every fourth or fifth insect I see
may turn out to be a new species.
The scientists' work
is far from over.
Everything they've collected
needs to be catalogued
and if it's an animal
new to science, it must be named.
Gordon and George are now
setting off on a major new mission,
a gruelling two-week river journey
into an isolated part of the jungle.
Are you sure we have enough stuff?
The Rewa that we're going to
is truly the middle of nowhere.
It's probably as remote as you can
get anywhere on the planet, really.
Have fun. Have a good time.
Yeah, I will do.
Their destination, the headwaters
of the River Rewa, one of the most
inaccessible regions of Guyana.
The few fishermen that have visited
reported wild animals
showing little fear of man.
If anywhere in South America
could be described as completely
untouched, this is it.
The Upper Rewa is sealed off from
the outside world by a formidable
set of rapids and waterfalls.
With two weeks' supplies packed on
board, they're travelling light
and living rough.
On the face of the mountain,
the climbers have come up against
an intimidating wall of rock.
This next session
is impossibly hard.
Well, it looks it to me anyway.
John's one of the best climbers
in the world,
and so he's already heading up it.
This is fantastic climbing.
Really quite amazing that
it's possible to climb up here.
There's just enough little holes.
You can't see any of them until
you're within a metre of them.
So it's quite intimidating
to launch up it.
Just seeing a blank wall ahead.
John, can you talk me through
this next pitch please?
There's about 15 or 20 metres
of vertical wall climbing.
The first half
is really quite hard.
OK, John, well,
to me that sounds like it's outside
my ability and possibly dangerous
for me to be trying.
Probably wise,
because the chances of falling
off some of the loose blocks onto
the others are really quite high.
Steve's a skilled climber, but this
rock face is beyond even his limit.
He must heave himself up the ropes,
free hanging in space.
He's six hours into the climb and
not even a quarter of the way up.
George and Gordon have reached
the rapids that guard
the headwaters of the River Rewa.
The rapids are impassable.
The only option is to drag the boats
and carry all the kit overland.
We've got logs laid down over
the rocks, so hopefully the boat
will slide over these rollers
and then up through that gap
and then up beyond the falls.
It's the hottest part of the day.
The temperature is 40 degrees
and humidity 100%.
One, two, three.
Right, one down, two to go. What?
Two more to go. I don't think I've
ever been so tired in my life.
There are still miles
of rapids ahead.
It's this barrier which makes
the Rewa so special, protecting the
forest and its animals from man.
Clinging to a cliff face,
Steve's running out of light
and the weather is on the turn.
It's coming in at an absolute rate
of knots. We've got black sky
and a curtain of rain approaching us
and we've got to get
our sleeping arrangements up
very quickly otherwise
we're going to get drenched.
They'll have to sleep on this
vertical rock face, strapped to it
in glorified camp beds.
Above them, 200 metres of
loose rock. Beneath them,
115 metres
of nothing.
We have two Portaledges.
Each one is big enough
for two people,
but since there are five of us,
Ivan has rigged himself a hammock.
How is your bed? Is just perfect.
I'm free hanging but
we have a lot of protection,
so we'll sleep with a harness
and attach it to the protection.
This is difficult enough
in the light, hanging here in
this ridiculous spider's web.
But trying to do it in the dark
is nigh on impossible.
Obviously, all night long,
we have to stay sleeping
in our harnesses and clipped into
as many things as possible.
Cos if you roll out of bed here,
you get more than a bump on the head.
For the first time, I guess I'm
starting to think whether I really
am capable of this, if it really is
something I should be trying to do.
It's no wonder no-one's ever
climbed this mountain before.
I mean, it's overhanging, vertical,
nasty, loose rock, vegetation.
I mean,
this is very, very far from a nice
day's climbing in the Lake District.
Something very serious
could happen up there.
Not so sure I'm going to sleep
so well tonight.
In the third and final phase
of this expedition,
Justine is on the search
for giant anteaters.
It's coming straight towards me.
Gordon and George struggle on up
the river, and are rewarded with
a wealth of rare sights.
What a fantastic bird!
And Steve battles exhaustion
as he nears the top of the mountain.
HE PANTS
Ohhh!
Guyana, South America.
A land covered in rainforest
that's unexplored and under threat.
If we're concerned
about species lost,
we should be concerned
about keeping the forests intact.
For the last three weeks,
an international team
of scientists and film-makers
has been cataloguing the animals
that hide in this wilderness.
It's one of the most spectacular
places on the planet.
They're discovering
it's one of the world's richest
and most pristine rainforests.
(Fantastic...)
The diversity must be
absolutely incredible.
It's hard to think
that this could disappear.
It really needs to be preserved.
Now the team has split up
on different missions.
Gordon and George are travelling
to the headwaters
of a remote river
where the animals are rumoured
to show little fear of man.
Oh, wow!
They could really mess this area up
in a very short space of time,
and that's terrifying.
Justine is in search of one
of the planet's strangest animals.
And the climbing team
is attempting the first ascent
of a remote mountain.
I don't like this.
Oh, God!
Steve Backshall is finding it tough.
Last night, they camped 115 metres
off the ground, suspended in space.
I'm starting to think
whether I really am capable of this,
whether it really is something
I should be trying to do.
Guyana, the size of Great Britain.
It's one of the few
tropical countries where most
of the rainforest is still intact.
Just over the border in Venezuela,
the trees meet
an extraordinary range
of table top mountains.
The climbing team spent the night
perched high on this rock face.
Getting out of bed
on the wrong side here
is not an option.
Hello, mate.
Bit scary.
This would have to be one of the most
glorious places I've ever woken up.
The view's extraordinary -
you can see all the way to Brazil.
There are wisps of cloud below us,
and the light is beautiful.
The summits of these mountains
have been isolated
for tens of millions of years.
They're a lost kingdom
of strange animals and plants.
No-one has ever climbed
Mount Upuigma before.
If they reach the top,
they hope to discover new species.
I hope that we make a lot
more progress than we did yesterday -
we were very slow yesterday.
The less time we can spend today,
the more time we have on top
to go finding animals,
and that's what we're here for.
Steve's an accomplished climber,
but to keep up with his world class
team, he's having to raise his game.
Steve, just above the belay,
on the right,
there is a loose boulder,
a really dangerous, large boulder,
right above Ivan.
Whatever you do, don't touch it.
Over.
I've got this great big flake here...
..which is ready to go.
It's the size of a fridge freezer.
If it came off...
Oh, God, I don't want to think about
what would happen if it came off.
Shattered boulders far below
lie silent witness
to the unreliable rock face.
How the hell am I going
to get round that?
Oh, God...
Oh, God, that's loose, too.
Oh, shoot.
Take in, John!
(Please don't go, please don't go,
please don't go...)
Oh, Jeez!
Oh, I can honestly say that's one of
the scariest things I've ever done.
The thing about it, Steve,
this is not a good position
to be either, so...
On you come, boyo.
Cameraman Keith is also
in a precarious position.
Are you on something loose too? I'm
not on anything, that's the thing.
All right...
Oh, God!
(I don't like this...)
Over the border stretches
the vast jungle of Guyana.
The country wants
to keep its forests intact.
But it's a poor nation,
and timber raises much-needed cash.
Team members Gordon Buchanan
and George McGavin are heading
to an area that is today remote, but
could soon be opened up for logging.
Their destination, the headwaters
of the remote river Rewa.
Ahead of them,
mile after mile of ferocious rapids.
Wow...
Well, that's quite fast.
It is tough, just getting your head
round this concept
of using the river
as a means of getting around.
And then suddenly,
you hit this big barrier,
and if we want to go on, we've got to
do some heavy grafting to get over.
The wildlife of the upper reaches
is protected
by these treacherous falls.
The few fishermen
that have ventured past
have returned
with stories of animals
that show little fear of man.
This is the point where you work out
exactly what you need
and what you don't need.
We've got three boats,
three engines, all the fuel,
all the food, all the kit...
It's a lot of stuff... a lot of stuff.
They're not the only ones
trying to climb the cascades.
There are literally tens
of thousands of small fish here...
And they're all heading -
this is a holding area -
they're all heading
up this tiny crack here,
it's the only bit on the falls
which they can actually leap up...
I've never seen anything like it.
Well, you wouldn't starve here!
Wow... Look at that!
That is just unreal.
Poor things,
they're just absolutely pooped.
George and Gordon are faring
little better.
Their boat's being dragged back
against the current.
If it flips, they'll lose their kit.
The team battle to regain control.
Somehow, they manage to hold on.
It was very deep there -
really deep.
You'd be amazed
at how strong it was.
You think you're in control,
then suddenly,
the current just takes the boat...
Pphwoof!
Yeah, you really have
to be careful out there.
There are three sets of falls.
Every item of kit
must be hauled over land.
The support team consists
of an ex-military medic...
..one cook...
five boat drivers
and a jungle guide.
Who's got a machete?
This is exactly similar to
what WE have been doing, actually.
Carrying heavy loads of food
and boats up and down the jungle.
This is very similar.
Some of the smaller worker ants
are hitching a ride.
Because there are small flies,
who fly over the swarm here,
and they actually try to lay
their eggs in the heads of the ants
who are holding a load.
And so what's involved
is this very smart trick
where the very smaller workers
actually sit on the leaf load
and fend off the flies
as they come in,
so it's a really smart trick.
And if you see an ant
which has had a fly egg in its head,
the fly egg hatches and grows
inside the head, and eventually,
the ant's head just falls off - just
drops on the ground and rolls away,
and a fly hatches out of it.
That's the last of the kit.
So only three boats now.
And we're done...
in more ways than one.
It's the hottest part of the day,
and the worst job is still to come.
Dehydration and exhaustion
are a real danger.
Steve has climbed some
of the world's highest mountains,
but this first ascent
of Mount Upuigma
is pushing his technical skill
and stamina to the limit.
Oh, God... That is the move.
Got no foothold...
Oh, no!
You all right, Steve?
Just came off... Sorry, John.
Can you get on again?
Ha ha(!)
It's impossible for him to climb
up the rope with his bare hands.
For the moment,
he's well and truly stuck...
..250 metres up.
On three...
One, two...
They've been dragging kit
through the forest for eight hours -
they've saved the worst until last.
It's a good one. Here's the top.
Steady, steady, steady...
Wait, wait, wait, wait...
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
At last... They've made it!
Yay!
Reaching paradise
was never going to be easy.
Straight away,
this river seems rich in wildlife.
Was that what I thought it was?
A giant otter.
Yeah, yeah, right there.
Down it comes, lovely.
Look... There they are!
Oh, fantastic.
Look, there's three of them!
Giant otters make a beeline for the
water to check out the strangers.
So what, we're only
two hours on the Rewa,
we're already seeing
big, classy animals. Yeah.
Absolutely. This is really unspoilt.
What a thrill to be... what,
15 feet from a giant otter.
None of the animals seem concerned
about the newcomers.
Macaws.
That's the first time I've seen them
in full colour in the sun,
because they're always
flying overhead, so all you see
is a dark shape.
If you don't actually see them
in the sun, you don't get
that fantastic blue and gold.
They are stunning...
Really beautiful.
Wingspan about that...
about that, Gordon?
Yeah, yeah. They're big.
Big birds. They're a parrot...
parrot species,
and it's the one that pirates
most frequently have
on their shoulders in cartoons.
Arrr, Gordon lad, ha!
They don't speak.
Since George and Gordon
visited this area,
plans have been announced to log
some of the trees in the forest.
The future of the wildlife
is now uncertain.
Have you got it, Gordon?
They could be the last biologists
to record the animals
in the forest's pristine state.
As they journey deeper,
they hope to find
some of Guyana's
most impressive creatures -
powerful eagles,
big cats, giant snakes.
Now I'm in a real quandary.
Steve is still dangling
250 metres up...
in thin air.
The team is preparing
to get him back on the rock face.
He's handed a device
to help him climb back up the rope.
OK, here it comes.
Mind your hands as well,
take your hands away
from the blue hook.
Mind your head. Here she comes.
How does that work?
Right, what you do
is you open... take it off.
Lift the red up a little bit. Pull
it like you're prising it apart.
That's it. Then spin it,
clip it round the rope.
Right, does that work? It does.
Thank God for you!
OK...
Steve's troubles aren't over yet.
The safety rope
is the team's lifeline.
They must avoid it
snagging on the sharp rocks.
The rope's rubbing really,
really badly above me.
Ooh!
That's going to ping.
I'm sorry, Keith, I might
swing into you if that happens.
No problem. I'm well anchored.
You're clear now, mate.
Everything's cool.
Well done.
They can't afford another setback.
The more time they spend climbing,
the less time they'll have to explore on top.
But there's no guarantee
they'll even make it.
270 miles to the south-east, forest
gives way to natural grasslands.
Here, jungle wildlife shares space
with the cattle
from a few remote ranches.
Camerawoman Justine Evans
is on her mission to find
the creatures which live here.
Look at that!
Beautiful.
We've got marsh around here.
Some of it's quite deep.
The horses can cross it
really easily,
but for us it's a real pain, wading
through all this water all the time.
It's such a great way to get about.
She's heading to the shade
of the forested islands
that pepper the landscape.
Trying to find a way through this
so I can get to the top
to see if I can get a view
of some howler monkeys
that are supposed to be up here.
Lots of gnawing,
signs of gnawing going on here.
You can see up here... That looks
really like monkey damage to me.
I don't know about howlers.
Maybe something
like squirrel monkeys.
Well, that's a good sign.
Definitely monkeys around here.
It looks quite fresh, this, as well.
After an hour of searching,
she discovers the hideout
of a colony of bats that feed
only on blood - vampires.
Hmm!
They've got their echo-locating...
They've got their leaf noses
and big ears.
They're vampire bats at the back.
Oh... Wow!
They are the stuff of nightmares,
aren't they?
Vampire bats are perfectly
designed to feed on blood.
Razor-sharp teeth pierce the skin,
and two channels under the tongue
help draw it up.
Whoa!
I don't like the idea of falling
asleep out on the savannah
and having one of those crawling up
onto me and licking my blood.
You can see where they've been
defecating down the wall.
That will all be blood.
Whoa...
A healthy population
of vampire bats signals
there are plenty of animals
to feed on.
Tonight, Justine will camp out
on the grassland.
Tomorrow at dawn, she starts her
search for the savannah's strangest
creature - the giant anteater.
It's going to be a rough night.
So we've only got one tent
that's waterproof, have we?
The tents have got
no outer sheets...no way
of holding them down.
It's all a disaster.
Everything is in here.
I don't know what we're gonna
do when it pours with rain.
We can't all sleep in here.
We're just gonna have to
hide away for a while.
Animals are pretty smart.
They don't come out in the rain.
Even insects don't come out
in the rain.
We're gonna have to sit
and wait it out, unfortunately.
But we've got so few days here
that we've lost a day, effectively,
just because of the rain.
In this untouched forest,
they had been hoping to find
Guyana's top predators -
anaconda, jaguar and harpy eagle.
Just when I said
it couldn't get any worse...
the porridge is burnt!
That's not good for a Scotsman,
is it, burnt porridge? Mmm...
The rain's eased off a bit.
Yeah, it has.
That's good. It's a bit annoying,
because peak jaguar time is...
eight until sort of ten. And
it's now... ? It's now nearly ten.
Despite the delay,
Gordon decides to take his chances.
Ah, a gasteracantha spider!
I nearly plonked myself on that.
This is a fantastic spider.
It's got these amazing spines in the
abdomen. It's quite hard, actually.
If you were to sit on that,
actually,
it would be quite painful.
Very heavily armed with spines.
In search of the elusive jaguar.
The heavy rains
have swollen the river,
and most animals have retreated
into the forest - except one...
the normally nocturnal pacca.
It's a fairly large rodent...
quite commonly found,
but not during the day.
These things could be taken
by certainly an anaconda
round here...jaguar...
Lots of things eat them.
They should be spending the days
underground, the whole family group,
and then they come out and about
at nighttime,
but this one's been scared out
by something.
Come on, Mr Pacca.
Get out of there.
Because a slippery, muddy bank
on the side of a river
is not a good place...
for a plump pacca to be.
Justine has enlisted the help
of a local cattle rancher
in her search for giant anteaters.
He thinks there's one
roaming this area.
Shall we go and tie up over there?
This is interesting.
You can see where this termite nest
has had the top knocked off it,
and it's definitely
an anteater that's done this.
It looks like a good area.
Lots of termite nests here.
Orvin's spotted one.
But the anteater has sensed them.
Made too much noise.
Stuck in a bog!
And off he goes.
Right.
Giant anteaters have bad eyesight
but a good sense of smell.
She must approach quietly downwind.
Fantastic!
It's just really fascinating
to see how it's using this landscape.
It's just specialised with what
this landscape has to offer,
which is lots of ants
and lots of termites.
It's just perfect for it.
Giant anteaters have no teeth,
but their elongated heads
hide a 60cm tongue
covered in sticky saliva.
They're just like aliens -
just bizarre looking.
It's feeding on something now. It's
got its head right down in the grass.
It's got its tongue
and it's sticking it down the holes,
All the termites
get stuck on the tongue
and they just lap up
as many as they can.
They're only walking on their three
main toes, which are curled under,
so they only pull the claws out
when they're actually digging.
They're basically
walking on their knuckles.
Which just looks weird!
They're all together quite strange -
real specialists.
This discovery marks the end
of Justine's journey.
Tomorrow, she must head home.
It's great to see a giant anteater.
First time ever!
First time I've got a shot. First
time I've ever seen one. Brilliant!
After three days of
relentless climbing,
Steve is just 30 metres from
the top, but it's not over yet.
I'm actually not sure
how I'm gonna tackle that.
Got a foothold there, but that's
another that might peel off.
Oh, God!
MAN: Well done.
I think I can see the top!
The next of it's a nasty bit.
Oh, dear! That's all gonna come off.
Oh, God!
He's almost there but,
in this final push,
he's having to cling on
to loose soil and roots.
Go on. Good.
Go on. Excellent.
Hey-heeeey!
Nice one, Steve!
Yes!
Ah! Oh, fantastic!
Steve's work as a climber is done.
Now he must break through
the thick wall of vegetation,
before he can start his search
for wildlife on the summit.
Look at this!
We've popped out into
a moss, bromeliad, fern forest.
This really is the lost world!
As the rest of the team
searches for animals,
Steve is exploring
a rocky shelf above.
They're running in tracks.
You can see there's almost
like roads.
These here are bird prints.
But these are definitely
mammal prints.
Kind of polecat.
A medium-sized mustelid perhaps,
something from the weasel family.
Which means there
are mammals up here.
If we find them, they're
almost certain to be a new species.
They have just three days
to track down the mystery mammal.
Well done. Who found it?
It was just lucky.
Be careful, he's very jumpy.
Look at that underside.
Beautiful colours. Ooh!
Good catch.
What are you? I'm gonna have
to hold him still like that.
I think what's particularly special
about this frog is
I've not seen it in any of the guides
or any of the textbooks
for the frogs of this area.
What's particularly beautiful,
if you look at the underside,
quite dull on top,
but underneath, the belly,
and the underside of the pads,
look at those colours.
That's really quite
dramatic, isn't it?
Unfortunately, it's very difficult
to name a new species
without taking it back to a museum
and running all sorts of tests on it,
and to do that, we'd have to kill it,
which I'm not prepared to do.
So, I'm gonna put it back where it
belongs, in this bromeliad here.
Unidentified frogs,
unknown footprints.
Who knows what else
the mountain holds?
It's been a frustrating day
for George and Gordon.
But at least the rain has stopped.
I have to say this is not
the sharpest tool in the kit.
OK, onions done.
Potatoes?
I've been fantasising about
a slow-roasted lamb shank
for most of last week.
Before dinner, George has
important work to do.
After rain, insects come out.
This is the first ultra-violet trap
that anyone's ever set in this area.
What on earth... ?
I've never seen that before.
That thing there is a
very strange family of bug.
It's not much recorded.
How many things are here? I mean...
200 species easily.
I think it'd be safe to say that
at least 5%, if not 10% of them...
. .may be undescribed.
That's the fact of it.
So if we could save all the forests
in hot countries like Guyana,
then you would immediately save
over 50% of all the world's species.
So that surely is worth doing.
Look at that!
That is just stonkingly beautiful.
This pale, ivory-coloured moth.
Yet at the right angle, you see
these beautiful little golden
beads all round the edge there.
That's just...
That's incredible.
This is a monster!
I've never seen this.
Look at the size of this guy! Whoa!
That is a mole cricket and a half!
That's an absolute beauty.
I'm in my element here and
it makes all the portaging
and the sweating...
It makes it all worthwhile.
George must get some rest.
He needs to be up early
to search for the giant anaconda.
On the top of Mount Upuigma,
the climbers spent the night
sheltering under an overhang.
Now they're preparing for
another day searching for animals.
All this climbing takes
quite a toll on your hands.
You just tend to get nasty,
kind of, blisters,
particularly in the points where
the ropes rub through your fingers.
MAN: Does it hurt?
Yes.
It's not too bad.
Hundreds of swifts
are feeding above,
watched on by their
predators, falcons.
From the second we reached
the top of the climb,
To begin with, we thought it was
a bat falcon, which is quite common.
But those don't occur at
anything like this altitude
or in this kind of terrain.
What does, and what were spotted
in 1999 to the east of us,
is the orange-breasted falcon.
I think there'll be a lot of
ornithologists out there who'll be
really happy to know that it's alive
and well here on Upuigma.
It looks to me like we've got
a pair with a youngster.
There's all sorts of interactions
going on between the three of them.
Very, very vocal birds.
As Evan explores the cliff face,
Steve is hunting
for the mystery mammal.
There's a great little hole down here
with loads of paw prints.
It would make a perfect burrow.
Let's go inside with the night
camera, see what we can see.
It smells quite strong in here.
That kind of musty, animal smell.
It certainly looks like a perfect
burrow for a medium-sized mammal.
I can't see anything. There's loads
of prints, but there's no droppings.
Since first light, George
and Gordon have been continuing
their search
for Guyana's top predators.
One of the boatmen thinks he's seen
a giant anaconda
hidden in the bushes.
One big one.
Anaconda?
Anaconda? Yeah. And if he says
it's a big one...
It'll be big. It'll be big.
There's a big one.
It's a big one indeed.
Can we get in there? Goodness me.
It's like a car tyre. Yeah,
it's like a car tyre on its side.
A very large car tyre.
Gordon is just going to sneak
onto land
and try and get a picture of
this anaconda on the ground.
Razor grass.
Gordon's about eight
feet away from it.
Goodness me, that's a huge snake.
It's five metres long,
its body the size of Gordon's waist.
Just doing a bit of pruning.
You can't really get
a clear view of it.
I've seen an anaconda smaller
than that eat a whole pig.
Something the size of me,
it could possibly do it.
Anaconda kill by coiling their
body tightly around their prey
and stopping the blood circulation.
The victim is swallowed whole.
If you're scared of snakes, this
thing would give you nightmares.
His tongue's not out.
If his tongue comes out,
that means it can sense us.
It can actually taste us.
At the moment, I think
it's just fast asleep.
Oh, my God!
Now that is... That's big.
This place really is
strangely rich in wildlife.
I've never seen or heard
of anywhere like this place.
This is a land of giants.
It's eyes are open. Look.
It's great to see it and I think
we should just leave it alone.
They head into the forest,
where they're confronted
by a yet another giant.
This is an enormous tree!
It's a silk cottonwood.
Absolutely vast! That's
bigger than anything we've seen.
Definitely. Good grief!
That is incredible. Look at the size
of those buttress roots. Oh, wow.
Look, look, look! What have you got?
What have you got?
Oh, my God! It's one of those...
That is incredible!
This is a hawk moth,
which has been infected by...
Is it a fungus?
Exactly. That's grown
throughout the whole animal.
The disease makes them
crawl up higher,
so that when they die and
the spores erupt out of the animal,
it spreads over a further area.
You have to be very careful
what you eat in the jungle,
because there are things
that can make you feel very sick
or things that will
grow inside you
and erupt out of your back,
your stomach, and here's an example.
Sci-fi films, they try
and dream up hideous things,
but actually, in the real world,
there are ten times
more hideous things
happening to animals all around us
than we could ever imagine.
I'll be you any money that
species of fungus is undescribed.
I mean...
It's a very under-worked group.
That, to me... is quite unique.
It's only from the air that you can
see the vast scale of this forest.
Guyana's trees alone lock up 2.7
billion tonnes of carbon,
vital in the fight
against climate change.
But Guyana is a very poor country
and needs to earn money
from its trees.
It faces a dilemma.
To allow logging now
or keep the forests intact
and hope to trade them for
carbon credits in the future.
So far, this forest is untouched,
but it may not be for much longer.
It's the last night on Mount Upuigma
and after dinner, the climbing team
hope to find nocturnal animals.
They've laid a series
of small mammal traps
and Steve's rigging an ultra-violet
light to attract insects.
Look at these moths!
Look at the size of this. Whoa!
Enormous moths all the way
down this wall here. Look!
Look at the size of that!
These ones here are hawk moths.
They're sphingidae.
Look at the size of that one there!
For scale, that's
the size of my hand.
And they're all exactly
the same species,
with this distinctive eye spot here
and that wonderful colouration
here in the hind wing.
Whoa! Something really
quite extraordinary's happened here.
My light trip has actually
conned these swifts
and they've flown into the wall.
This one here, he's stunned,
but alert.
I think he might head off.
Come on, fella, please be all right.
Thank goodness for that.
Suddenly, there's a noise
from within the mammal trap.
No, no, no, no.
Come back, come back.
Where are you?
Oh, God, no! Oh, he's in there.
He's in there. Oh, he's beautiful!
You're all right.
I'm not gonna hurt you.
Look at the size of the ears
and the spread of the whiskers.
This is definitely a creature that's
accustomed to hunting at night.
That's ever so pretty.
There have been very,
very few species recorded up here.
New mammals are found
so rarely these days,
but that is an extraordinary find.
Makes the whole trip worthwhile.
They could only bring enough
supplies for three days.
Now it's time to go home.
Last night was definitely in
my top ten wildlife moments.
Everything happened at once.
First of all the swifts,
then these moths everywhere
and then we found that mouse.
We've only had three days
to do a rapid assessment
of what lives up here on the top,
but even so, I think
we've had some major successes.
I'm sure that some of the animals
we've found are new to science.
But even more tantalising
are those footprints we found
of some unknown animal and I just
hope that someone gets a chance
to come back
and find out what that is.
It's one of the big tragedies
of my life that I was born now
when it's so hard to find really wild
places that people haven't been to.
It does your heart good
to come somewhere like this
that is not only totally
undiscovered, but is so special.
Gordon has been pulled away
from breakfast.
One of Guyana's
most rarely seen creatures
is high in the trees
right next to camp.
It's just stopped in this tree right here.
I have never seen
a harpy eagle before.
I really didn't think
we'd see one here.
It's enormous. What I'd like
to try and do is get ashore
and that way I can get the
long lens to its full extent
and hopefully get
a really close shot of it.
Please don't go anywhere.
This is just smash-and-grab filming.
You've got to try and find
a position and just get what you can,
because this bird is gonna fly
and we're never gonna see it again.
OK, make sure everything's running.
Oh, wow! Look at that.
You know what? If the jaguar's
the most difficult mammal to see,
the harpy eagle is definitely
the most difficult bird to see.
Beautiful.
It's easy in this place
to say every second day,
"This is the most amazing thing,
the rarest thing that I've seen,"
but honestly,
there is more chance of a jaguar
doing the fandango through our camp
than finding a harpy eagle.
He's got the remains of a monkey.
You can just see its back legs.
That's what harpy eagles do.
They're such huge birds of prey.
They catch big primates
and their claws are so powerful,
they'll grab a monkey,
grab it by the body with one claw,
grab it by the head...
Look at those talons.
They're enormous. Huge.
That size.
The harpy is the most
powerful eagle in the world
and stands a metre tall.
Without a doubt, this is like finding
diamonds at the head of this river.
The further we get away from people,
there's more animals
and the fact that you've got
an animal like harpy eagle
is a good indication that
there must be many monkeys here.
And many monkeys mean
you've got a very healthy habitat.
It's worrying that
it's completely unprotected.
They could really mess this area up
in a very short space of time,
and that's terrifying.
This is so, so unbelievably rare.
It is the holy grail.
OK, it's gonna go. It's gonna go.
This could be the last moments
we have with this bird.
The harpy eagle
is the final discovery for the team.
They'll soon be heading home.
The expedition has produced
important evidence.
This is one of the greatest,
unspoilt rainforests in the world.
There are so few places that
are pristine and untouched.
This is one of them and, personally,
I think that should never change.
From the tree tops to its watery
depths, they've uncovered new,
strange and rare creatures.
They've been burnt, bitten,
and had narrow escapes.
They've catalogued and photographed
hundreds of rainforest animals.
There should be room on this earth
to keep 6% of the land surface area,
a very small area,
in which resides the majority
of all the Earth's species
of animals and plants.
Thank you.
For George, there's one last task.
Delivering the scientific
report to the Guyanese president.
Here is a very brief report
from our trip
which just outlines what we did.
Obviously, there'll be more coming
out of this in the next few months.
Every report, they've all recognised
the importance of rainforests,
especially tropical rainforests. In
climate change, the contribution
to the mitigation or the reduction
of greenhouse gases.
What we all find is that
this particular area
is one of the richest,
in terms of species,
probably anywhere on the planet.
It's incredibly rich.
Shortly after the team
returned home,
the President of Guyana
made an unprecedented move.
He approached the British government
to offer the intact forest
as a global resource to help
alleviate climate change,
in return for financial help.
No decision has yet been made.
The world is just beginning
to recognise the enormous
value of rainforests.
Not only as home
to millions of species,
but as part of the solution
to a global problem.