River Monsters (2009–2017): Season 4, Episode 3 - Invisible Executioner - full transcript

My name is Jeremy Wade.

I'm a biologist and
extreme angler.

I've battled with
the most dangerous

freshwater fish on earth...

Ahh!

From rays wielding 10-inch
barbs to assassins

that strip flesh from bone.

But for me, the most frightening
monsters are the ones that lurk

unseen, then drag unsuspecting
victims down to their deaths.

I've heard of one river in
southern Africa where the death

toll is devastatingly high...



The Zambezi.

Tales abound of unexplained
deaths, from fishermen being

dragged under to babies being
snatched from their mothers.

Locals say a monster is lurking
here, but what kind of beast

could it really be?

He must have been
14, 15 feet long.

There's only one
way to find out.

Fish on!

By taking on a river I've never
fished before to hunt down

and uncover the Zambezi's
invisible executioner.

The Congo and Zambezi rivers
both originate from the same

country in Africa... Zambia.

Now, if the Congo
can support possibly

the fiercest river
monster I've caught...



Those teeth!

Ooh.

I've every reason to suspect
the Zambezi could hold

a river monster of its own.

This is new territory for me,
and gathering intelligence from

this sparsely-populated
region isn't easy.

The Zambezi claims countless
victims on its 1,600-mile

journey to the Indian Ocean.

Most of the fatalities are
blamed on crocodiles and hippos

or accidental drownings in
waterfalls and rapids.

But along one stretch of the
river where it forms the border

between Zambia and Zimbabwe,
there have been deaths

that can't be explained away.

One recent story concerns an
experienced fisherman

who disappeared in this gorge.

Some say he was swept
away by the current,

others that he was pulled
in by a giant fish.

From experience, I have no doubt
that this river could harbor

such a fish, but proving it will
be another matter.

Traveling down the Zambezi is
going to be dangerous.

In places, towering gorges
squeeze the river into mile

after mile of
boat-crushing rapids.

I'm not taking them on lightly,
but this is the only way

to find out what's in the water.

Somewhere down there is
something that has pulled

fishermen under the
water to their deaths.

And now that I'm seeing this
river myself for the first time,

I'm starting to have very, very
mixed feeling about going

to have a closer look.

The thundering rapids of the
Batoka Gorge have claimed many

lives, yet grinding poverty
means many fishermen have

no choice but to try
their luck here.

Two years ago, two Zimbabwean
brothers were fishing

in the gorge when one
unexpectedly disappeared.

Was it an accident, or was
something more sinister at work?

Before I can even start
my investigation,

I first have to contend
with the rapids.

The rapids aren't
the only dangers

fishermen face in the gorge.

Spray makes the banks
treacherous, and rocks can

hurdle down the cliffs
without warning.

But the only way to find out
what creatures call this place

home is to literally
test the water.

This is horrendously deep.

It's only just
touched the bottom.

The line was just sinking,
sinking, sinking for...

Don't know... it felt
like about half a minute.

It's very, very deep here.

So deep, a monster fish
could easily hide out

without being detected.

This has to be some of the most
dramatic scenery

I've ever fished in.

And as an angler, of course,
what you're always aware of is

the fact that that continues
under the surface.

But the thing, really, here is
that this is completely

unfamiliar to me.

The only way I'm going to learn
about this river is by just

getting a bait in a variety of
different places and just

gradually building up a picture
of what the geography is like

under the water and also what
the fish life is like

under the water.

If you believe the deeper the
water, the bigger the fish,

then I'm in line for
something pretty huge.

Well, so much for the idea that
in the deep water, the very deep

water, you're always
gonna find very big fish.

This has come out of maybe
70, 80, 90 feet of water.

Perhaps this is the exception
that proves the rule.

Brown squeaker.

It's a small catfish
that makes sounds

by moving its spiny fins.

It can give you a nasty stab,
but it's no man-hunter.

If a fish is responsible for
unexplained drownings here, then

it would have to be both strong
enough to survive the rapids

and big enough to pull in a man.

Yet somehow it has remained
hidden from sight.

To this day, a fisherman called
Jaconia is still unsure

how his brother disappeared.

Two years ago, they set out in
opposite directions to fish

the gorge, planning to meet
up later at their camp.

Only Jaconia returned.

When you came back to the camp,
your brother didn't come?

So, shoes and trousers
and that was all?

Oh, you found the line?

The line was...

Right.

Did you get the hook back?

The absence of a hook
makes me suspicious.

Hooks don't just fall off.

Perhaps something
ripped it off the line.

Further downstream, a croc
would be the prime candidate,

but they avoid rapids.

So I asked Jaconia if there are
any big fish in the river.

How big do they grow?

He says there are.

Same size as you.

Yeah.

That's the body?

Okay.

And how long to get a big one?

How long to bring it?

- One hour, 30 minutes?
- Yeah.

Human beings are out of their
element in water.

From my own experiments,
I've shown that a fish a

third of my weight could
drag me under.

The beast Jaconia is describing
easily outstrips that.

Many languages are spoken in
these former British

territories, but Jaconia can't
give me the fish's English name.

So, this big fish, what
does it look like?

My first real clue... a
snake-like fish that grows

to the size of a man.

But where is it hiding?

I've tried a deep pool, but
Jaconia thinks the turbulent

margins on the edge of the white
water hold bigger predators.

This is where anything
overpowered by the rapids is

thrown out, dazed and confused,
delivered right to the jaws

of any waiting predator.

There are no second chances for
me with these waters either.

I need to get my strategy
right first time.

If I fall in the river, which I
don't want to do, but it is

a possibility, at least
we got an eddy here.

We got a slack.

I can come into slack water.

And there's a beach over there.

There's some possible
places to land fish here.

It might be a bit of a scramble,
but it's doable.

At least I've thought about it.

The last thing you want is to
have a fish on, you get it in

close, and then what do I do?

How do I land it?

And you end up doing something
potentially dangerous.

It makes me wonder what kind of
fish survives conditions

as tough as these.

Is this the home of Jaconia's
snake-like giant?

Fish on!

It's a strong fish, this.

Whatever this is, it's not
giving in without a fight.

I think it's off.

Oh, no. No, no.

I've got to get it into calmer
water or I might lose it.

Ah.

Tiger fish... toothy, strong
fish, powerful predator.

Fairly fragile out of the water.

I want to get it back soon.

Interlocking dagger-like teeth
make short work of prey, and a

powerful, muscular body
propels it like lightning.

An even more horrific cousin
rules Africa's other

monster river... the Congo.

The goliath tiger fish is the
big daddy of them all.

This creature stands
accused of slicing children

virtually in half.

The Zambezi's tiger fish has
the razor-sharp weaponry

of a killer,

but does it fit Jaconia's
description of an invisible

executioner capable of
killing his brother?

It grows quite big, but not
as big as the animal

I've been hearing about.

And also, it's not
really serpentine.

But it just goes to show that
you do get fish living in some

really crazy water.

That's a good sign.

But I don't think I'm any nearer
at the moment...

for the fish that I'm after.

I fish the rapids for another
day, but no more bites.

I need to rethink my strategy.

I need to understand exactly how
the victim came face-to-face

with his killer.

Jaconia has a nephew who his
brother taught to fish.

I'm hoping he can shed some
more light on the mystery.

So he put the line around his
foot so that he could go to

sleep or rest and that would let
him know when

there was a fish on?

Yeah.

Something very big came along
and actually pulled him

into the water?
- Yeah, in the water.

Aah!

So he drowned?

Yeah, he drowned.

Melvin is convinced the
killer was a fish for the same

reason than roused my
suspicions...

The missing hook
from the hand line.

Does anybody have any
idea what kind of fish

this could have been?

The what fish?

Solomon fish.

So it looks a bit like a snake?

Yeah, like a python snake.

It's not a name I recognize,
but it's the second time

the potential killer has been
described as a snake-like fish.

The obvious candidate would be
an eel, but I don't know any

African eels strong enough to
pull in a grown man.

This sounds like something else.

Then my attention is drawn to
the serpentine talisman

around Melvin's neck.

What is that exactly?

Right.

The god of the Zambezi.

And what exactly is Nyaminyami?

What kind of creature?

Mm-hmm.

And do other fishermen
also wear this?

Do you think if I'm
going on the river,

would it be a good
idea if I had one?

Yes.

Wearing the amulet is a
symbol of respect

rather than a
guarantee of safety.

According to legend, the
half-snake/half-fish god exacts

his vengeance
whenever he feels fit,

and he's blamed
for many drownings.

Locals believe the god rules the
entire length of the Zambezi,

and anyone taking to the river
is wise to appease him.

But whether this amulet
will protect me,

I have no way of knowing.

So, clearly, the river is very
dangerous and there are cases of

fishermen being pulled
under the water by big fish.

Aah!

The name is not something I
recognize, but it's described as

something that's a bit
snake-like.

And curiously, this is also the
description given to Nyaminyami.

And I wonder if this means
that there is a link

or is it just a coincidence?

Locals believe the river god has
his lair 250 miles downriver in

a flooded gorge called Kariba,
another place where fisherman

have disappeared.

It's time to follow the
Zambezi's

relentless course downstream.

This stretch of the
Zambezi has undergone

a massive transformation.

50 years ago, the river was
dammed at Kariba to generate

electricity for a
booming mining industry.

It was an unprecedented feat of
engineering on a scale never

before seen in this forgotten
corner of Africa.

But unimaginable freak floods
threatened to destroy the dam

before it was finished.

The locals attributed these
catastrophic events to the river

god Nyaminyami, angered by the
attempt to tame the Zambezi.

But in the end,
the dam prevailed.

At the time, it created the
largest man-made lake

in the world.

Now stocked with huge numbers
of small commercial fish,

perhaps this vast deep lake has
provided sanctuary to an ancient

snake-like predator.

A predator so terrifying it
inspired belief

in a river monster god.

The reason I've come here is
because this is where Nyaminyami

is said to live.

The only thing is after the
construction of the dam,

the monster, or the fish which
gave rise to the legend,

could be living under
400 feet of water.

So it looks like I might have my
work cut out.

Whether or not the dam upset
Nyaminyami, there's no question

it upset the natural forces
in the region.

Erratic winds rise and fall over
the lake without warning.

I'm within a few miles
of my destination,

but the weather
is getting worse.

The wind's up, and there's quite
a few waves on the water.

The thing is Lake Kariba is so
massive that it's changed

the climate, locally.

You get these storms coming up.

We've had lightning flashing.

So the wise thing is
to head for dry land.

But the head wind is too strong.

There's no way I'm going to make
it to Kariba town tonight.

Now I just need to find
any safe port in a storm.

Right, this isn't exactly what I
was wanting to do.

The boat is actually rocking
from side to side.

There's also lots of rocks.

And, you know, one thing we
don't want to be doing

is hitting any
rocks in this boat.

We're now navigating at night.

The boat's been sort of tipping
backwards and forwards.

It's head to the nearest
safe shore or sink.

There's a safe landfall here.

We hope there is, anyway.

I have to say it's very much of
a relief to be on dry land,

although I'm not exactly sure
where we are.

Somewhere on the shore of
Lake Kariba.

Luckily, a miraculous little bit
of sand as opposed to some of

the rocks that were out there,
which were worryingly close.

I'm very glad and very lucky to
be safely ashore.

The next day, Lake Kariba
is dead calm,

as if nothing happened.

But I now understand a little
more about the threats facing

local fishermen here.

Well, the lake is showing its
normal face once again today,

and it makes me appreciate
perhaps that if you lived here

and you're in the habit of going
out on the water, probably in a

smaller boat, and you experience
something like that, well,

the idea of an angry water god
doesn't seem totally farfetched.

But I have to stay focused on
facts if I'm to uncover

the Zambezi's
invisible executioner.

I'm not interested in the
commercial fish in the lake.

I need to tap into the knowledge
of the people that used to live

along the Kariba Gorge before it
was flooded in the late 1950s.

They were relocated to
resettlement villages,

some more than 100 miles inland.

Patrick is one of the few elders
who remembers life on the river

before the dam.

They didn't want to come here.

They were forced to come here.

Some people resisted, and it
sounds like people even died

as a result of river resistance.

Before living in this
sort of dry area,

they were living beside
the banks of the Zambezi...

A place called Matongo.

There were lots of different
types of fish, so as well as

growing food, there was always
the river there to provide fish

from time to time.

Are there any very big
fish in the river?

Any fish that are
dangerous to people?

There's one fish in
particular... mazunda.

Apparently, this is a
very, very strong fish.

If you're in the canoe,
you've got to go with it.

You don't pull when
it is pulling.

If you do it right, you
eventually tire it out,

you get it to the side of
the river, and you spear it.

You get it wrong, and that fish
is going to flip your canoe,

pull you into the water,
and maybe nobody

will ever see you again.

But that's not all.

Patrick goes on to tell me
something even more horrifying.

The fish he calls mazunda

has developed a taste
for human flesh.

Stories tell of women going down
to the river to do the wash

and sitting their toddlers in
the shallows to keep cool.

They don't know if it's the
noise, the vibrations,

or even the scent of the
soap in the water,

but sometimes it
draws the mazunda in.

It's got a big head, big mouth,
the back end like a snake.

If there's a baby in the water,
this fish can just take it in

one mouthful and possibly,
even a small person.

So this, by the sounds of it,

is the big fish that's
in the river here.

Mazunda.

Well, I'm in no doubt now
that there is a large,

potentially dangerous fish in
this river, and people have been

describing it to me
and telling me names.

Do those names refer to
different creatures, different

fish, or is everybody talking
about the same thing?

Back at the lake, I look for
mazunda at the fish market.

- You don't have it here?
- Yes.

But one of the fisherman
does know of them.

Yeah.

That is actually the
thickness of the body.

He tells me a story of a brutal
encounter 20 years ago.

A South African tourist took on
more than he bargained for,

fishing in waters that were
strictly out of bounds.

This hand liner thought he could
outmuscle a mazunda.

When the line was pulled from
his hands, he made the mistake

of securing it around his waist.

Man-made dams often stir up
stories of super scaled

river monsters.

Deep fish-filled lakes form
above the dam wall, delivering a

constant stream of food
to the water below.

What better place for a freak of
nature to grow?

But without an eyewitness, I'm
skeptical, until I learn of

another man who had an encounter
with the mazunda

at exactly the same place.

A big body underneath and...

Vernon Bailey has lived in
Zambia since the 1940s.

But when he went into the water
to hunt tiger fish, nothing had

prepared him for
what he would see.

Kariba Dam, snorkeling and
fishing below the dam wall.

And that was in 1969.

As I was swimming up, this
submarine-looking thing came

after me, very close.

It just gave me a big eyeball

and just kept moving
on in dead silence.

He must have been 14, 15 feet
long, and I reckon between

200 and 250 pounds.

That thing could swallow me
without a question.

But what exactly was that thing?

What is the real
identity of the mazunda?

Vundu... v-u-n-d-u.

Can you describe what it
looks like?

It's a species of barbel.

It's one of the catfish, but it
grows exceptionally big.

Known by a multitude of
names, the vundu is the largest

freshwater fish in
southern Africa.

This top predator uses its extra
long barbels to detect chemical

traces of its prey in the water,
and the broad fins fringing its

muscular serpentine body give it
supercharged power.

If Vernon's estimate is right,
his giant was at least twice

the size of the accepted
maximum for the species.

Is it possible?

Unlike land animals,
fish are largely exempt

from the law of gravity.

With bodies supported by water
and plentiful food, below dams

for example, a phenomenon
called indeterminate growth

can supersize some
fish into giants.

But supposing Vernon's
giant was a one-off,

would a normal-sized vundu have
the strength to pull in a man?

Aah!

A big vundu is more than
capable of doing that.

Strength coupled with
a mouth big enough

to swallow a baby whole?

It can only be the vundu.

Every year, Vernon revisits
the dam and claims he can still

see the shapes of vundu
in the water below.

There's now only one
place for me to go.

This road that I'm
on is the border

between Zambia and Zimbabwe.

But it sits on top of this
structure that causes

the Zambezi to back up
for almost 200 miles.

And the difference in height
between the surface here

and the river surface
there is about 300 feet.

But access down there
is forbidden.

However, the authorities have
agreed to forward my request

to the head office in
the capital, Lusaka.

So frustrating to hear that
there are potentially giant fish

there, but I can't
get down to the water.

I can see the water,
but I can't get there.

Well, not for now, anyway.

It'll take days, maybe weeks,
for a decision

on whether I can fish here.

Time I just don't have.

But there is one other option.

There's a part of the Zambezi
that remains virtually

untouched... the lower Zambezi
on the border with Mozambique,

where temperatures top
120 degrees.

Perhaps I can find my river
monster there.

At a former slave town called
Luangwa, I try to find someone

to take me to the remotest
parts of the river.

This river here.

- Yes.
- Yeah?

A boatman called Tafilia agrees.

But as we draw near to
a prime fishing spot,

he's reluctant to get too close.

Crocodiles have slaughtered
13 people in this village in

the last year alone, including
a chief and his wife.

What's worse, Tafilia tells me
vundu have pulled fishermen

into the croc-infested waters.

If you're in a canoe,
does it pull the canoe?

- Right.
- Yes.

According to Tafilia, there
are giants still left in this

remote corner of Africa.

But once again, I'm operating
in unfamiliar territory.

I'm in a nice fishing spot here.

The only problem is this hippo.

Most of them they disappear
when the boat is around.

This one seems to be quite
curious, so it's quite

disconcerting to think that
there are other things a lot

bigger than me with prior
claim to this place.

And hippos kill more
humans in Africa

than any other large animal.

Yeah.

That is a fish on.

I might just look at this...
How the teeth are,

how the hook is.

Oh, good, a net.

Excellent.

Fantastic.

Ooh.

It seems a fearsome lineup of
predators stalks this part

of the river, too.

Tiger fish as well as vundu.

Whew.

These things.

One minute, the lion is just
hanging limp,

and the next minute,
it's screaming out.

Lovely fish.

It's not the one I'm...

It's not the fish
I'm after, though.

What I want to do is hold it in
the water and let it recover,

but I've got to remember
there's crocs in here.

I got to think of my
own safety as well.

But I think it's
about ready to go.

I was thinking then,
somewhat selfishly,

that if a croc come
along, it's more likely

to go for the fish
than my arm, hopefully.

But anyway, it's gone.

I'm not sitting here for 5
or 10 minutes waiting

for that fish to recover.

It's a fish.

It's good to see a fish, but the
one I'm after is just more

elusive even than that.

Typically, at this
point, I would try

to fish for my target at night.

But here, the crocs
are man-eaters.

Fishing in the dark
would be suicide.

We should head back to camp.

But then I spot a gruesome
opportunity,

seemingly too good to
miss... a dead hippo.

My angler's instinct is saying
get all this in the water

and get a real
scent trail going,

but just the act of dragging
these bits a few yards into

the water, that could
turn me into bait.

Because it's not just possibly
vundu that will smell the scent,

but the crocodiles as well.

This carcass will be a magnet
for scavengers after dark.

So I cast a handline into the
scent stream and leave it for

the night in the hope
of hooking a vundu.

I'll have my answer one way or
another in the morning.

Everything's gone.

The pelvic girdle
that was up the bank.

The head.

The head's just disappeared.

Something's dragged
it into the water.

The hyena and crocodile tracks
show why it would be suicide

to fish these banks after dark.

But has anything cleaned up
the bait on the hand line?

It's still stuck on something.

Yeah, other places, if the line
is snagged fairly close

to the side, I might jump
in and free it,

but here would not be
a good idea at all.

Even standing, actually,
this close to the bank

is somewhat risky.

But something has managed to
dodge the crocs.

A sharp-toothed catfish, a
smaller cousin of the vundu

that shares a
similar body shape.

The whole body is muscle.

It's quite serpentine.

There's a lot of surface area to
act against the water.

Catfish use their sensitive
barbels to sniff out prey in

murky water, and it's surprising
what can attract them.

In the Congo, I used the local's
favorite bait...

Cubes of soap.

Could this explain the stories
of attacks on babies?

As I continue my
hunt for the vundu,

I get surprising news
from the Zambian authorities.

I've been granted permission to
fish below the dam.

This is the first time ever it's
been officially allowed.

But I only have
one shot, one day.

I have to get back now.

Finally, it's my turn to
confront whatever lurks

in the churning depths
below the Kariba Dam.

The clock is ticking, and
there's no access to boats.

I'm casting into a
pool 500 feet wide

and said to be 300 feet deep.

That's fish on.

This is my last chance
to uncover

the Zambezi's
invisible executioner.

I just want to let out the line.

I'm just gonna wait till he
comes this way.

Its instinct is to pull down
towards the bottom of this

300-foot pool.

I'm gonna run along
the back there.

That's a vundu.

What a fish and what a
place to catch it in.

Could be crocs here.

So what I'm going to do...

I think I'm just
going to pull it.

Just looking for a
good place to land.

Maybe up here.

I think one of these would be
capable of taking a baby.

And with a mouth this wide,
it could suck in

almost anything that passes.

It would be capable of pulling
an unwary fisherman if that

fisherman had the line wrapped
around his toe or ankle.

Now that I've felt its power
on the line, I have no doubt

the vundu could have pulled
Jaconia's brother

into the river and drowned him.

But could the river monster
also be a river god?

That is the representation
of Nyaminyami.

Now, I wonder if this is the
creature that the water gods,

the water spirit is based on?

Both possess powerful
serpentine bodies.

And perhaps the fangs on the
traditional carvings are

inspired by the extraordinary
barbels that vundu

use to hunt down prey.

My journey along the relentless
Zambezi has made me realize that

any creature that can survive
this unforgiving river

for millennia has to be a
force to be reckoned with.

Whether or not this is the
beast behind Nyaminyami, I mean,

it certainly embodies
the power of this river.