Africa (2013): Season 1, Episode 4 - Cape - full transcript

A F R I C A

The Cape of Good Hope,
on Africa's southerly tip.

Here, two great seas meet.
One, the warm Indian Ocean,

the other, the chilly Atlantic.

And as they mingle,
so they create a billowing cloak

that drapes the summit
of Table Mountain.

Spectacular though this is,
the mountain's cloudy covering

is only a hint of the
profound influence

that these two very different oceans
have on the fortunes of life here.

And not just here at the Cape,

but across the length and breadth
of southern Africa.



Two thousand miles
north from the Cape,

beneath this sandy beach,
new life is stirring.

Hundreds of baby green turtles

emerge like a torrent from
the safety of their nest.

Each one, just seven
centimetres long,

must make a hundred-metre
sprint down the beach.

From the moment they hatch,

they're driven by an instinctive
urge to run to the sea.

Few creatures start life with
the odds for success

so heavily stacked against them.

Yellow-billed kites.

Pied crows.

But so many of these hatchlings
appear together,

that predators can't catch them all.



Last out,
this baby might seem doomed.

But struggling out late could just
give her a chance.

The crows seem insatiable.

Even those that reach
the sea aren't safe.

This female has to make a dash
for it.

She's still in danger,
and not just from above.

A ghost crab may be smaller
than the hatchling,

but it has the strength to drag
her into its lair.

Not this time.

At last, the sea.

She has to catch a breath
if she's not to drown,

but the pounding waves make it
desperately difficult.

Beyond the surf, calmer water,

but even here, the hatchling
is not out of danger.

She dives.

Just in time.

Only one hatchling in a thousand
will survive to adulthood,

but if she does,
she may live for 80 years.

For now,
the ocean is there to be explored.

As the hatchling
disappears into the deep blue,

she swims into the waters of one
the planet's most powerful currents.

The Agulhas.

The Agulhas sweeps south
towards the Cape,

transporting a hundred billion
gallons of warm water every day.

These tropical seas are so warm,
they evaporate on an enormous scale.

Water vapour rises until,
at altitude,

it cools and condenses into clouds.

As the clouds drift inland,

they bring rain to one of the least-
explored corners of our planet.

The mountains of Mozambique.

This the wettest place
in southern Africa.

Decades of civil war have
kept travellers away

from this little-known land.

It was satellite mapping that
revealed the full extent

of the forest that grows here,

so now it's known to outsiders
as the Google rainforest.

It could also be called
the butterfly forest.

After the rains, butterflies have
emerged together in huge numbers.

As soon as their wings dry out,
they will take to the air.

Their goal? To find a mate.

But how?

There may be thousands close by,
but the foliage is so thick,

it's difficult for them
to find each other.

They have a remarkable solution.

They follow rivers upstream
and travel to higher ground.

The journey can take
hours of determined flying.

Eventually they emerge into the only
open space there is.

The treeless peak of Mount Mabu.

Up here, free from the confines
of the forest,

they hold a butterfly ball.

Now the butterflies have
all the space they need

for their aerobatic courtship.

The male's strategy is simple.

Fly higher and faster
than the competition,

and just maybe you'll
win a virgin female.

This spectacular gathering,
unseen by outsiders until now,

happens for just half an hour
each morning

and for just a few weeks
in the year.

Once mated, the females descend back
to the rainforest to lay their eggs.

A forest that only exists
because of moisture rising

from the warm Agulhas current

hundreds of miles away
in the Indian Ocean.

The rainwater now flows southwards
from Mozambique's highest peaks

to the lowlands of the Eastern Cape.

And where the land flattens,
rivers slow,

creating a vast swamp
50 miles across.

This is Gorongosa.

Here, all kinds of creatures
come to catch fish.

Whiskered catfish work as a team.

They take a gulp of air
at the surface

and then belch it out underwater
to create a net of bubbles.

And that traps little fish.

There are fish for everyone.

And each species has its own
technique for catching them.

It's all very well
having a big beak,

but you've still got
to know how to use it.

This young pelican
has a lot to learn...

..and not long to do so.

Maybe, like the catfish,
teamwork is the answer.

It's certainly working
for the flock,

and this pelican seems to be
getting the hang of it.

But surely it can't swallow
that catfish?

Trying to was a mistake.

The rainwater,
briefly held in Gorongosa's swamp,

has now been enriched
with silt and sand.

All down this coast, sediment-laden
rivers the Zambezi, the Limpopo,

the Save drain back to the sea,

and there they meet
the Agulhas current.

And what happens to all that sand?

Over the millennia,
the Agulhas has worked it

into a complex underwater landscape.

This vast sand sculpture is
the Bazaruto Archipelago,

the oldest of its kind in the world.

It may look like paradise,
but living here is not easy.

For 100,000 years, the Agulhas
Current has battered

these submerged dunes
with underwater sandstorms.

But where the water is deep enough
to escape these storms,

nutrients carried from Africa's
interior fuel an explosion of life.

A rare oceanic hunter rules here.

Giant Kingfish.

As big as a man,
and weight for weight,

one of the most powerful fish
in the sea.

Despite their size, they're
extraordinarily agile when hunting.

Normally kingfish are solitary,

but for just a few weeks each year,
they gather at places

like Bazaruto and prepare
for an extraordinary journey.

One that will take them far inland.

The Mtentu River.

A king of kingfish
leads them upstream.

As they travel
further into fresh water,

they seem to change from aggressive
hunters into dedicated pilgrims.

Now,
many miles from their natural home,

and in response to an unknown cue,
they stop and begin to circle.

Other marine fish that migrate
upriver usually do so in order

to breed, but there's no evidence
that these kingfish spawn up here.

Neither do they hunt.
So what are they doing?

In truth, the purpose of this
strange behaviour is still unknown.

Within a few weeks,

they will retrace their journey back
to the ocean.

The lives of kingfish, like those
of turtles and butterflies

and pelicans, are influenced
by the Agulhas Current.

But that influence can only reach
so far.

And this is why.

The Drakensberg mountains.

Here, local people say that the
vultures soar so high,

they can see into the future.

These sheer cliffs,
rising to over 3,000 metres,

hold back the advancing rain clouds

and, as a result, the land beyond
them is starved of water.

This is the greatest
expanse of sand in the world.

A seemingly-endless desert

that is the vast parched
centre of Southern Africa.

Thousands of miles to the west,

where this desert meets the Atlantic
Ocean, another current prevails.

But the Benguela Current,
surging up the west side of Africa,

has a very different character.

It's extremely cold,
full of nutrients

and it's thronged with life.

A great white shark.

They can raise their body
temperature to 10 degrees

above that
of the surrounding sea.

But doing so requires an enormous
amount of high-grade fuel.

So this is a great bonanza
for them the body of a dead whale.

The carcass will draw in every great
white for miles around.

And here, off Cape Town,
that means a lot of sharks.

Instead of feeding in a frenzy,

these sharks have rather refined
table manners.

They swim side-by-side to get
the measure of each other.

Then each takes its turn.

This female is the biggest,
so she eats first.

The next only feeds
when she gives way.

The waters of the Benguela
are so rich,

they support more great white sharks
than any other seas on the planet.

And they are so cold,

they attract some surprising
creatures to these African shores.

Penguins.

African penguins.

This female is returning
to relieve her partner.

Of course there's no ice here,

but these rocks can be
almost as slippery.

But there are more serious obstacles

than the slippery rocks
awaiting them.

It's his turn to feed, so he leaves
her to look after their eggs.

Now she must tackle a problem
faced by no other kind of penguin.

For the next 10 days,
she must protect her eggs

from the African sun.

A dense coat of feathers

that keeps her warm in cold seas
now stifles her.

On these exposed rocks,

she must shade her eggs
instead of keeping them warm.

Everything here seems
the wrong way round.

For some, the soaring
temperature is too much.

A neighbour deserts his nest.

His egg will not survive.

He's not the only one to give up.

Some years,
not a single chick is reared.

Penguins are adapted

to withstand temperatures
of 40 degrees below zero,

not 40 degrees above.

Now, at the hottest part of the day,
the very worst time,

her chicks are hatching.

Just when they need her most, she's
reaching the limit of her endurance.

After 10 days of intensive fishing,

the chicks' father comes back
to take his turn at the nest.

But will he be too late?

He greets his young for the very
first time.

The coolness of the Benguela Current
brought the penguins here

but that very coolness
is a great disadvantage,

because it generates little rain.

It can, however, produce
moisture in a different form.

A thick blanket of fog
rolls in from the sea

and condenses on this thirsty land.

And each year, the desert bursts
into life with a dazzling display.

Water is so scarce that this
show will not last long,

so plants compete to attract
their pollinators with colour.

Here in Namaqualand,
a 600-mile strip of coastal desert

becomes carpeted with blooms.

The morning sun opens
a Namaqua daisy,

and reveals a male monkey beetle
asleep inside.

Nights here are so cold that monkey
beetles shelter within

the closed-up petals of the daisies.

The habit brings benefits
to both sides.

The beetle is kept warm
and the flower gets pollinated.

But now the beetle has urgent
business. He must find a mate.

As he searches, he hops from bloom
to bloom, pollinating each in turn.

At last he spots a potential mate.

A golden princess.

But here comes trouble.

A rival.

There's no time for introductions.

But he's been too slow.

The rivals immediately
begin to brawl.

The female will only mate inside the
daisy,

so they wrestle for possession.

They're so engrossed in fighting,
they've pushed her off.

The challenger is ejected.

The winner wastes no time
before getting back to business.

At last!

Now there will be a new
generation of monkey beetles

to pollinate these
Namaqualand flowers.

For most of the year this land
is desperately dry,

but just occasionally,

brief, violent storms
sweep in from the cold ocean.

Springbok have been roaming
this desert for many months,

searching for one of these rare
and highly localised downpours.

The grass is sprouting.

And that is worth celebrating!

If you're a springbok,
that means pronking.

We still don't know exactly why
they do this.

The simplest answer is that
they're dancing for joy.

Africa's most southerly tip.

This is where the two great ocean
currents, the warm Agulhas

and the cold Benguela,
crash into one another.

And this collision, in itself,
draws in life in abundance.

A super-pod of hunting dolphins,
5,000 strong.

And shadowing them...

..Africa's biggest predator.

A Bryde's whale.

This female is 15 metres long

and weighs more than a whole
family of elephants.

The dolphins are in pursuit
of sardines

millions of them.

But these cold-water fish
are heading towards an impenetrable

barrier of warm water that they will
not cross, the Agulhas Current.

They're trapped.

And that gives the whale her chance.

But the sardines are so speedy

that the whale only catches a few
with each pass.

More and more hunters arrive.

The whale needs the other hunters
to push the fish upwards,

forcing them against the surface.

Now they have nowhere to escape.

With each lumbering turn
she loses precious time,

time that favours the more nimble.

The Bryde's whale probably knows

that this opportunity will last less
than five minutes.

And with the last
few lunges, she finally cashes in.

The forces that triggered
this great event

have also shaped the fortunes
of life

far beyond this particular
battleground.

Without these currents,
Southern Africa would be a desert.

But combined, the very different
powers of the Agulhas

and the Benguela have transformed
the Cape

into a land where life can flourish.

The Comoro Islands
off Africa's east coast

are a haven for green turtles.

Every year, a million turtles
hatch on these beaches,

but the chances of any one of them
surviving is tiny.

The Africa team came here to try
and capture the dramatic

first few minutes in the lives
of these baby turtles.

It was to be both a technical, and
surprisingly emotional challenge.

It's only when you get down on the
eye level of the baby turtle

that you realise what an enormous
journey it's got to make

down over the beach, and it really
is quite epic.

That's fine.
Oh, yeah, that's lovely.

It's using all these complicated,
heavy bits of equipment

which hopefully will enable us

to get into the world of a turtle
which is just a few inches long.

As they break out of all the soft
sand, they hit the hard sand

and that's where the real
sprint takes place.

They must be desperate to hit that
water,

because you can see the sea's
just over the horizon.

We're following them
all the way down

and you do kind of get involved
with them and cheering them on.

OK, slow down a bit. Slow down.

And suddenly all these crows
come flocking in

and start picking them off and you
just think, that's just so unfair.

Lots more coming in.
Just loads coming in now.

I do, God, I feel for them.

You know it's really quite upsetting

and particularly when you're
looking through the camera

and I'm just filling frame with
a turtle running down the beach,

then suddenly from nowhere, a beak
comes in and whoosh, that's it.

That turtle's no more.

The turtles that escape the perils
of the beach

still have to face pounding surf.

But, at last, they're
in their element.

More than can be said for the crew.

They're faster than you,
aren't they? Yep.

It's a bit embarrassing.

Beaten by something
that's less than a day old.

When you see hatchlings
get off the beach

and going in the white water, you'd
think they'd just get obliterated.

They just punch through the water
they do get flung around

but then they just right themselves,
keep on swimming and they're

ahead of you, coming out the back
of the wave and it's amazing.

You're seeing all these baby turtles
getting picked off,

left, right and centre,
but they just keep going.

They are just so resilient.

And that made what happened next
so distressing.

A particularly high spring tide
flooded the beach.

Any baby turtles still in their
nests would be lucky to survive.

See it bubbling out as well.
Yeah. See the air.

Well, it means that basically
anything below

that line's going to be gone.

Let's hope and pray it's not, but...

As you say, we don't know,
let's wait and see.

All across the world,
turtles are in decline.

Their eggs are stolen,

the adults are hunted
for their flesh

and they drown in fishing nets.

But here in the Comoros,
they have friends.

It's amazing here in Itsamia.

It's just a really heartening
story of how the local people

are doing everything
they can to protect sort of

what they think of as their turtles.

And some of the baby turtles
have survived the flood tide.

The whole village
comes to help the hatchlings.

But the most important effort is to
protect

the adults from outsiders who would
hunt them for their meat.

They've taken it upon themselves
to really police the beaches

around here and make sure that
poaching is kept to a minimum.

The selfless protection these people
provide means that this is

one of the few places in the world
where turtle numbers

are actually increasing.

And remarkably, here in Itsamia,
the population has in fact

doubled in the last decade.

As the shoot was coming to the end,

cameraman Kevin Flay noticed
that some of the turtles

that made it through the surf
faced one last danger.

I'm getting shots of a kite
which is flying down

and taking turtles off the water
surface.

That was a part of the story
we had to tell.

The aim is for us to be underwater,

looking straight up as this happens,

and that's actually
really quite hard.

OK. Three, two, one...

Undeterred,
the crew got into position.

There we go, the kite's up.

You can't see where you're going
because my head's glued

to this viewfinder, so I'm banging
into rocks and things like that.

I'm really just trying to keep
the turtle in shot.

Something came in then.

She came in and swooped down
over the water's surface.

And you could see
the kite from underwater?

I could see it,
I could see the shape.

In frame and you were running?
Yep.

Didn't take the turtle.
Didn't take the turtle.

Probably that's the best of both
worlds, because we got

our lovely underwater shot of a kite
and the turtle gets away!

This lucky hatchling
isn't the only one.

With the help of the village
of Itsamia, thousands more

have a chance to make it
to the open ocean.

It's only really local populations
that can actually support

and sustain this conservation work.

If it comes from the roots upwards,
then it's got a chance of success.

You know, I think it's amazing,
I really do, the fact that they

do this and you know we should see
it more often around the world.

It's hard not to admire these
extraordinary little creatures

as they battle against such odds.

This baby turtle
won't touch land again

until she returns to the very same
island to lay her own eggs.

With luck, she'll find the beach
is still protected

by the people of Itsamia.