All language subtitles for Extreme Africa - 01x06 - The Linear Oasis Eng

Narrator: In the dry-lands
of South Africa,

where heat and thirst
are a constant,

there's an alien world
seemingly void of life.

But a line runs through it,

Where nature abounds.

A waterway of immense
proportions -

Breathing life into the desert.

This is the pilgrimage
of the Orange river -

the journey of the Linear Oasis.

Stretching over 1,200 miles,

the Orange river is the longest
in South Africa.

Flowing west towards
the cold Atlantic Ocean,

it bisects Lesotho

and then forms South Africa's
border with Namibia.

In its lower reaches
it's a mammoth force,

Forging its way
through rock and sand alike.

Alternating between angry,
abundant might -

And slow lethargy.

The Orange river
is an iconic landscaper

across the southern tip
of Africa.

But the river has humble origins

in the mountain peaks
of Lesotho.

It begins as just a trickle.

Or rather, many trickles.

The river starts nearly 10,000
feet above sea level,

in the Maluti Mountains.

Up here in the clouds,
rainfall is abundant.

It doesn't take long for
trickles to become streams.

And for streams
to become rivers.

The catchment area here is vast

- with multiple watersheds

channeling many young rivers
into one another.

In these early reaches the river
is known as the Senqu -

named by the Sesotho inhabitants
of the area.

On leaving Lesotho,

the river bends out into
the interior of South Africa.

It's here that it joins forces
with its main tributary,

the Vaal.

The Vaal river has been
working its way south west

for over 600 miles.

The two rivers merge in South
Africa's Northern Cape province.

From here, they continue their
journey westwards

towards the Atlantic Ocean,

crossing two thirds of the
country with renewed strength.

Despite having sources so close
to the east coast,

both rivers flow west -

making their journey to the sea
a long one.

This is a result
of tectonic uplift

that blocked their flow east

and channeled both rivers into
the basin of the interior.

550 miles from its source,

the newly merged Orange river

attracts a diverse
range of life.

The day is young but the avian
residents are already busy.

Birds flock to its waters,

attracted by the numerous fish,
crabs and frogs on offer.

Water birds have already taken
their first swim

and wait patiently to catch
the first rays of light

after a cold morning of fishing.

Others let their meals
come to them.

Floating islands of vegetation
drift idly downstream.

For the birds
it's a mobile buffet -

transporting various marooned
insects down the river.

Wagtails pick their breakfast
off with ease,

enjoying a ride as they forage.

The African darter is one of
the bigger personalities here.

It's also
one of the best swimmers.

They move using foot-propulsion,

usually with only their long
neck visible above the water.

This has earned them
the colloquial name,

the 'snakebird'.

A male's on the hunt for fish.

He will spear his prey before
bringing it up to the surface

to shake it off his bill tip
and into his mouth.

This tricky operation
requires some practice.

Patrolling above is the avian
authority on fishing

the African fish eagle.

The darter must be wary.

The great eagle is not averse to
stealing somebody else's catch.

With such riches on offer,

fights for territory
often break out.

An aerial dogfight
falls from the sky.

The highly territorial
Egyptian geese

will fight to the death
for this stretch of river.

But their racket
draws unwanted attention.

The fish eagle
sees the distracted geese

as a chance for an easy meal.

A close call.

It appears his eyes
are bigger than his stomach.

The river courses with fishermen
in many forms.

One of the most
elusive predators

moves quickly and quietly,

flipping rocks and feeling for
crabs along the shallow banks

of the Orange river.

The Cape clawless otter.

Characterized by its partly
webbed, clawless feet,

its diet includes crabs, fish,
frogs and even worms.

They use their
extremely sensitive whiskers

as sensors in the water

to pick up the movements
of potential prey.

Their front paws come in handy

when digging on the muddy
bottoms of ponds and rivers,

picking up rocks
and looking under logs.

They're playful creatures and
enjoy foraging as a group.

With plenty on offer
in the Orange river,

life thrives in large numbers.

Through its upper reaches

the Orange river cuts through
a range of habitats.

The morning light begins to
slowly heat the granite boulders

along its banks,

Enticing some hairy inhabitants

to emerge from between
the cracks and crannies.

The Rock hyraxes are awake.

As they do every morning

the colony assumes strategic
positions on the boulders,

soaking up the warm,
golden light

and generating some energy
for the busy day ahead.

Although,
hyraxes are rarely busy.

Rock hyraxes
rest most of the time.

This is especially true
for the adults -

who enjoy a late morning sleep
on the warming rocks.

Although they resemble rodents,

hyraxes are in fact relatives of
the modern-day elephant -

evidenced by their pointed
tusk-like upper incisors.

The soles of their feet
have large, soft pads

that are kept moist
by sweat-like secretions.

Among the vigilant adults
are several babies.

They too
clamber out of the fractures

to soak up a bit of sun -

making good use
of their mother's soft fur.

Finding a position
that suits everybody

can be a difficult task.

Finally, the family unit absorbs
the suns energy in a big pile.

The peace is short-lived.

For the youngsters,
there's fun to be had.

After breakfast it's time to
explore their surroundings.

Hyraxes are expert climbers

and the babies, albeit
not as skilled as their parents,

are fast learners.

They clamber around the rocks
with ease -

often jumping
surprising distances.

As the river
continues to flow westward

on its journey to the Atlantic

it winds up towards the
border of Namibia,

where it cuts through the iconic
Augrabies National Park.

Here, the river splits and
reforms - creating islands,

smoothed and polished
by the vigorous water

over the millennia.

Over time the river has cut
a deep gorge

into the ancient granite rock.

Gone is the calm,
amicable river.

Here the Orange
shows its true strength

in an angry display
of white water.

The river twists and turns
through the gorge

before blasting over the edge of
a 475 foot drop -

the Augrabies falls.

Taking its name from
the local Khoikhoi language,

"Ankoerabis"
means the place of big noises.

Mist rises up from the gorge -

spraying
the sun-soaked rocks above.

Small black flies
swarm in their millions

and provide an abundant food
source for some lucky predators.

Scores of Augrabies flat-lizard
emerge from the numerous cracks.

The females are drab in color,

sporting only
the intricate patterns

down the length of their spine.

The male lizards however,

are brightly colored -
with personalities to match.

They use these colorful scales
to signal dominance

and settle territorial disputes.

When they aren't busy
catching flies

the males try to outbid each
other for prime patches of rock.

Assuming the push-up position,
they assert their dominance

by showing off
their bright blue belly.

This male has found
an unwanted contemporary

in his stretch of territory.

A face-off ensues.

Circling each other,

the males flip their bellies up
from the side

to show off their colors.

If this isn't enough to scare
off the intruder,

drastic measures must be taken -

a good old-fashioned fight.

Their colors aren't only
to warn off other males.

Females that move
through their territory

immediately attract interest.

The males
try to garner affection

by walking around the females

in an almost robotic,
plodding motion,

showing off their colors.

This male
has been trying all morning.

His approach seems spot on,

but his follow through leaves
something to be desired.

A sharp bite on her tail
is not appreciated.

With another courtship
gone to waste

he returns
to his quest for food.

Crossing the entire width of
Augrabies National Park,

the Orange finally emerges
from the rocky ravine

and spills out onto the land.

Here the river begins to support
more and more vegetation.

As the landscape blends
from boulder to bush,

it attracts a myriad
of larger residents.

A family of giraffes
moves over the jagged landscape,

looking for food.

They seem out of place
in this rocky environment.

The giraffes
have no predators here

and roam freely, without worry.

Unlike the giraffe,
Klipspringers are agile climbers

and clamber
over the crags with ease.

And their dappled brown coat

helps to blend them
into their background.

But they still must be wary.

A male Klipspringer
is on the watch for predators.

And for good reason,

he has young to look out for.

A sub-adult
has joined the family.

An extra pair of eyes
is invaluable

when danger lurks all around.

A pair of Verreaux's eagles
patrols from above.

A baby Klipspringer
would make an easy meal -

but the hunters' presence
doesn't go unnoticed.

The Klipspringers
stick close to the rocks,

which offer both camouflage
and shelter.

The vegetation even entices
the resident hyrax

away from the refuge
of their boulders.

The babies learn to forage by
imitating their parents -

they're learning fast.

And like the Klipspringers
they too must be vigilant.

A sentry sounds the alarm.

The hyraxes scatter quickly -

abandoning their feeding grounds

to take refuge
amongst the crags.

Today,
the eagles will go hungry.

Many eyes
make life a little easier.

1,200 miles into its journey,

the Orange river
enters the Richtersveld.

This is an arid region,

consisting of mountain deserts
and sandy plains.

Though at its widest here,
the Orange river does little

to quench the Richtersveld's
dry environment.

Hundreds of miles downstream,
a far stronger body of water

exerts
a much greater influence -

one that leaves
this landscape dry.

Cold water coupled with the
strong winds of the area,

prevents onshore air from
accumulating much moisture.

Thus, the land flanking the
ocean is a dry and barren place

and moisture from the river does
little to quench its thirst.

So just a few hundred feet away
from the banks of the river,

the land is parched .

The landscape resembles a hot,
lonely planet

one void of life.

But nature finds a way,
even here.

An alien plant - dry and
cracked, reaches up to the sun.

Its branches, bulbous and bent.

Its leaves, tough and juicy.

This succulent plant is a
species of aloe tree -

one of three species
that occur in this area.

Its name, the Quiver tree, comes
from the indigenous San people,

who used its branches as quivers
in which to carry their arrows.

Many of these specimens
are over a century old.

Their reflective, waxy bark

helps them survive
in this harsh environment.

Like their succulent leaves,

the bark helps
to minimize water loss.

There is little relief for the
inhabitants of the Richtersveld.

Extreme conditions
require extreme adaptations.

This spiny fat arm
belongs to the Halfmens -

which means 'half-human'.

These strange plants
have an ominous story.

Legend has it that the Halfmens
are lost members of a tribe

that escaped Namibia after
a terrible clash with invaders.

After fleeing south
and crossing the Orange river,

they ended up scattered
in the never-ending hills

of the Richtersveld.

Their hopes of ever returning
home were dashed,

when their god
turned them into thorny plants -

destined to stare longingly
to the north,

where the land of
their ancestors lies.

In these lower reaches, the
river is known as the !Gariep -

which means 'great river'
in the local Nama language.

The Nama have traversed this
region for centuries -

their ancient etchings

remain on the numerous rocks
that scatter the Richtersveld.

But the stones themselves
tell a much older story.

These rocks were forming
before Africa even existed.

Their geological beginnings
stretch back two billion years -

almost half the age
of Earth itself.

Continuous volcanic activity
and successive intrusions

have left a landscape consisting

of more than 10 separate
geological groups.

This complex geology
provides diverse habitats

where an array of plant and
animal species can thrive.

Creatures slither and creep
through the rugged terrain.

Even here, Klipspringers easily
navigate their way to food.

A family
of Cape ground squirrels

searches among the stones
for insects.

Separated from the river by the
Richtersveld's jagged mountains,

there's nothing
for them to drink

so they have to get their daily
water from the food they eat.

While the family forages -
a guard keeps a look out.

Staying close to the burrow
is a good bet for safety.

Lying on the plains

are the quartz fields
of the Richtersveld.

Over the millennia, large,
fractured rock has broken down

to form a beautiful carpet
of white pebbles.

Between the stones

are some of the best examples
of succulent diversity

in southern Africa.

Each plant
stranger than the last.

Some make use of camouflage -

mimicking the gravel
that lies around them.

But one rock
seems livelier than the rest.

A Stone grasshopper moves
amongst the pebbles.

His textured exoskeleton

leaves him all but invisible
to potential predators.

The landscape
has become his greatest defense.

Occasionally
a small amount of water

does reach
the highest mountaintops

in the form of mist.

And when it does

it provides plants and animals
with enough moisture to exist.

Bulbous Butter trees grow

and flowering plants
add a magical splash of color.

Though far from abundant,

this water leaves its scars on
the rocky plains below.

Dry riverbeds stretch across
the stony flats -

carved into the earth

by the rare flash floods
that occur here.

Small holes pepper the baked
earth of the dry riverbank.

One by one, hundreds of
Brown-throated martins

shoot out of their nests.

These inconspicuous little birds

start their morning
with a bit of sun soaking

and a social catch-up.

There are few places
to perch here - and each spot

is highly contested.

Having secured a spot it's time
to get every feather in place.

Once preened to perfection
they can test out their wings.

The martins are highly sociable

and enjoy a spot
of playful flight.

Constantly communicating,

the twittering chatter of the
birds fills the air by the nest.

But danger lurks.

In the heat of the day,
an ominous character appears

from out of a dark cave
in the riverbank.

A Nile monitor:
a formidable predator.

Using his forked tongue
to sniff the air -

he gathers information
about potential meals

that may be nearby.

Nile monitors
are not fussy eaters

and they love birds' eggs.

But being ectothermic,

he must warm up
before attempting any activity.

Today is apparently not the day
to go hunting.

Having caught
enough sun for now,

the monitor returns to his cave.

The martins however
are ready for action.

Their destination

the Orange river.

Martins are usually found
foraging near water.

Their short, wide bills

are the perfect tools
for snatching up tiny insects.

These small birds show
extreme dexterity on the wing.

And miraculously avoid
mid-air collisions.

In its last few miles

the river reaches its final
stages and approaches the coast.

Signs of the oceans presence
start to appear on the hilltops.

A mystical tapestry
covers the land,

showing signs of relief.

These are the lichen fields
of Alexander bay.

Lichen is neither a plant
nor an animal.

Rather, it's a community of
microscopic algae and fungi,

living together in symbiosis.

In amongst the fuzz,

strange plants grow
in the protection

of this rusty green blanket.

As do many small,
inconspicuous creatures.

Lichens thrive here because of
a source of moisture

that rolls in from the sea.

When the ocean fog arrives,
it comes in thick and fast.

Within minutes,

it can block out the sun
and envelope the lichen fields.

Bringing life to the plants

and the collection
of strange residents

that call these fields home.

After a 1,200 mile journey

through ever changing landscapes

the Orange river
finally purges its contents

into the Atlantic Ocean.

The river discharges almost 3
billion gallons of water a year.

Having travelled across
two thirds of South Africa,

the great Orange river fans out
into its delta

before spilling into the sea.

Flamingoes and water birds
flock to the mouth

to sift through
the nutrient-rich waters.

The Orange river has traversed

an entire continent
on its journey.

And has run a lifeline

through some of South Africa's
harshest environments.

From source to sea,

it has played host to countless
wild and wonderful creatures.

And left its scars on rocks
that have born witness

to the geological history
of Africa.

In a land without relief

This waterway is a welcome gift

to South Africa's
thirsty inhabitants.

Breathing life into the desert,

the Orange river
is a sanctuary,

a Linear Oasis.