All language subtitles for A.Perfect.Planet.S01E03

DAVID ATTENBOROUGH: A Perfect Planet.

We live in a world
with a violent atmosphere.

Rain clouds form, and powerful winds carry
their fresh water around the globe.

Without this, our perfect planet
simply couldn't function...

...for all life on land
depends on the weather.

We all know that the weather
can change on a daily, even hourly, basis.

But annual weather patterns
have been stable for millennia...

...and it's this reliability
on which life depends.

(ANIMALS AND BIRDS CALL)

Every year in October, the weather
brings a dramatic transformation

to this tiny patch of forest in Zambia.

Storm clouds begin to build.

(THUNDER CRASHES)

And right on cue,
straw-coloured fruit bats start to appear.

They've travelled hundreds,
if not thousands, of miles to be here.

And they always arrive
at exactly the same time.

They know that these rains
will transform this forest,

allowing countless fruit trees to ripen.

And the bats gorge
on the new-found abundance.

For just 12 weeks every year,

this forest becomes home
to ten million fruit bats.

One of the greatest gatherings
of mammals on Earth,

all crowding into an area no bigger than
a dozen football pitches.

From this hub, the bats fan out,

consuming more than
300,000 tonnes of fruit,

spreading the seeds
and regenerating the forests.

Africa's largest wildlife migration -
entirely dependent on the rain

that comes to this small corner of Zambia

at the same time each year.

Every second,
over 13 million tonnes of water

evaporate from our oceans,
forming clouds.

The spin of the Earth
and the prevailing winds

determine where these clouds blow.

As a consequence,
some places get less rain...

...and others much more.

The Amazon rainforest...

(THUNDER CRASHES)

...one of the wettest places on Earth.

It gets three metres of rain a year...

...so life has learned to deal
with the near-daily downpours.

Every year, for thousands of years,
the persistent rains

have flooded vast tracts of the Amazon...

...turning the jungle
into a seasonal wetland.

Anything living here
must either climb or swim.

But there's one extraordinary animal
that has turned this deluge

from a disaster into an opportunity.

This fire ant has reached the edge
of her known world.

Her way forward has now become
blocked by the rising waters.

She's one of many, and in a few minutes

their underground home will be submerged.

Forced to evacuate, workers and soldiers
try to save the larval young.

As their nest floods,
the colony seems to be doomed.

But from chaos comes order.

The fire ants band together,
each locking legs with its neighbours.

They're building a living raft.

Each ant is covered in fine hairs
that trap air against its body.

As the raft forms, this air creates
a cushion for them all to float on.

This is the power of the colony.

By working together,
they've become unsinkable.

And no-one gets left behind.

Pulled from the shallows, the colony
is now at the mercy of the flood.

Holding tight to the larvae

and keeping their queen hidden
at the centre of the raft,

the colony drifts into deeper water...

...where they're vulnerable to fish
that now swim through the flooded forest.

Those that lose their grip
must get back to the safety of the raft.

With jaws that join
to become a surgical needle,

this pond skater could suck an ant dry.

But together, the colony is strong,
and it's time to repel boarders.

The ants can travel like this for weeks.

They've even come to depend
on the flood to carry them

to new feeding grounds.

At last,
the ants can make their raft secure.

Surging forward,
they claim their new home...

...evicting current tenants
without hesitation.

One of the first to safety
is their larval queen,

carried from the heart of the raft.

This palm will be their home
for the next three months,

until the floodwaters recede
and they can head back underground.

The average temperature of our planet
hasn't varied

by more than a single degree Celsius
in 10,000 years.

This has made our climate stable,

allowing animals to fine-tune
their behaviour

around predictable weather patterns.

October in the Amazon.

The heaviest rains have come to an end,

and the falling river level exposes
a new landscape.

Three weeks ago,
these mile-wide sandbars didn't exist.

In another three months,
they'll be back under water.

But now they provide a crucial opportunity
for giant river turtles.

They've been coming here at precisely
this time of year for generations.

50,000 of them -
a quarter of the world's population.

They're all here for one reason.

But their window of opportunity is short,
so timing is everything.

Scaling the three-metre-high banks
will take this female higher and drier

than she's been for months.

She's come here to lay her eggs.

But others have beaten her to it.

The early arrivals have already claimed
nearly every inch of the beach...

...and there are still many more turtles
to come.

Wherever she turns, the space is taken.

(SAND PATTERS)

But being fashionably late
does have an advantage.

Had she arrived earlier,

her eggs might have been dug up
by those searching for somewhere to lay.

She's found her spot.

Settling down, she lays nearly 100 eggs.

Burying them keeps them safe
from predators,

and the warm sand incubates the clutch.

They must hatch before the river rises
again and floods the sandbar.

Any turtles that lay after her
may have left it too late.

Hopefully, she has got her timing right.

Two months on,
and the hatchlings emerge into the world.

They were laid at the perfect time.

Hundreds scramble for the river

just as the water starts to rise.

Those still to hatch aren't so lucky.

This year,
the heavy rains have returned early.

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

The nesting beach is beginning to flood.

Most hatchlings can escape in time.

Those still below ground...

...will drown in their nests.

For thousands of years, giant
river turtles have timed their breeding

around the Amazon's
reliable cycles of rain.

But today, our weather is changing.

Disastrous early floods like this
used to happen once every 20 years.

Now the turtles have to deal with them
every four.

Winds may carry huge amounts
of rain to the Amazon,

but they don't provide this service
to every corner of the planet.

A third of the land receives
less than 25 centimetres of rain a year.

Deserts are scarred by desiccating winds
and baked by the sun.

But even weather as challenging as this
can be perfect for the locals.

As darkness falls
in the coastal deserts of South Africa,

the dunes come alive...

(HIGH-PITCHED CALL)

...with the call
of a surprising desert dweller.

(HIGH-PITCHED CALL)

(CALL CONTINUES)

A rain frog - not what you'd expect

in a place that gets
just seven centimetres of rain a year.

To survive here, she has to avoid
the heat of the day

buried in the sand.

But each night, she heads out
on her hunt for moisture.

Short stumpy legs and a plump body
are ideal for digging...

...but not so good for getting around.

She can't hop,
so she waddles across the dunes.

The world's slowest steeplechaser.

Obstacles are tackled
with dogged perseverance.

She can travel
a whopping 38 metres a night,

no mean feat when you're the same size
and shape as a marshmallow.

Termites.

They are 75% water -

a meal and a drink in one.

But she's not the most agile predator.

Maybe if they just came a little closer...

Oh, dear.

Perhaps if they stop moving...

At last!

But now she has another challenge.

To swallow her food, she must squash in
her eyeballs to push it down her throat.

Termites may be juicy,

but they don't provide her
with quite enough water to survive.

It rarely rains here,

but coastal deserts do get
another reliable source of moisture.

At night,

cool moist air
is blown in from the ocean,

forming fog banks that shroud
the desert in mist.

It condenses on vegetation,
wetting the sand beneath.

So it's here that she waits,
absorbing moisture through her skin.

Rain frogs are so dependent on this water

that they can only survive in places
with at least 100 days of fog a year.

And on the foggiest nights, when
other frogs have emerged onto the dunes,

she takes her opportunity to find love.

Male rain frogs are smaller
than the females,

and his stubby legs
make it hard to hold on,

so he glues himself onto her back.

Still locked in their embrace,
the pair head back beneath the sand,

where they'll lay their eggs,
safe from the heat of the desert sun.

But there's one desert that gets so cold

that liquid water simply can't exist.

Winter in Mongolia's Gobi Desert...

...40 degrees below freezing.

One of the driest and most extreme
environments in the world.

Most animals can't survive
weather like this...

...but there's one unique mammal
that manages to eke out a living here.

The Gobi is home to the last 1,000
wild Bactrian camels on Earth...

...surviving at the very edge
of what's possible.

(CAMEL GRUNTS)

Even camels need moisture,
but any water here is now frozen solid.

It's down to the bull to find a solution.

(GRUNTING CONTINUES)

Setting off with his herd, his search
could cover thousands of square miles.

Driving them forward,
he can keep going for days on end.

Herds come together
from across their vast range...

...all looking for the same thing.

These long-distance specialists
can smell moisture from 30 miles away...

...and they've picked up a scent.

Even in the Gobi,
one of the driest places on Earth,

wind can provide
a rare source of moisture.

Snow is blown to this desert from Siberia.

Where it settles is impossible to predict,
and it may not last long.

But for now, at least, this bull has found
what he's been searching for.

In the cold, dry air,

snow doesn't melt...

...so it must be eaten.

The Gobi's windblown snow is a lifeline

that will sustain his herd
throughout the winter.

Even in this most hostile of places,

weather still provides just enough
for survival.

The largest, most unpredictable weather
on the planet

starts far out at sea.

Hurricanes, typhoons and tropical cyclones

are violent, short-lived megastorms.

But there's a far more reliable
weather system

that originates over the ocean...

...one that is eagerly anticipated
by all in its path.

Monsoons are seasonal winds that blow
at the same time each year...

...and they carry colossal amounts
of water from the ocean to the land.

Christmas Island.

A remote speck of rock
in the Indian Ocean.

For the last four months, its forest
interior has remained dry and dusty.

Life here is waiting for change.

In November, the first storms
of the monsoon reach the island.

(THUNDER CRASHES)

They're a welcome relief for those
that have suffered through the dry.

And they are vital for the island's
most numerous residents.

The red crabs of Christmas Island.

They've spent the dry season
sheltering in damp burrows

beneath the leaf litter.

Crabs breathe through gills
that must be kept moist.

So it's only with the return
of the annual monsoon

that these land crabs can finally emerge.

With the humidity now high enough,
they can begin an epic trek to the coast.

Every red crab comes together
from across the island,

and they do so in their millions.

50 million, to be precise.

They've come to release their eggs
that can only develop in the ocean.

There's just one small problem.

They may be crabs...

...but they can't swim.

They're scared of the sea.

But they don't have a choice.

They must release their eggs
on the highest tide.

Each carries around 100,000 eggs,

so over just two or three nights,

trillions are released into the ocean...

...though some are more successful
than others.

Once their work is done,
the crabs will return to the forest.

Then, four weeks later,

on the next highest tide...

...having hatched out to sea,

a new generation of red crabs
returns to the same beach.

In good years like this one,

countless millions arrive back
on the shores of Christmas Island,

turning the beaches red.

Like their parents, they also need
moisture in the air to breathe.

So before the rains move on,

the young crabs must undertake
their own epic journey into the forest,

where they'll wait out
the next few months of dry.

The Christmas Island crab -

entirely reliant on the return
of the monsoon.

The annual rhythms of the weather
shape life across our planet.

In some parts of the world,

seasonal cycles of wet and dry

can bring dramatic change.

And there are few places where this is
more apparent than Southern Africa.

The Zambezi River.

It flows across six countries
and drains half a million square miles.

At the peak of the wet season,

5,000 tonnes of water cascade

over Victoria Falls every second.

And yet, each year when the rains stop,
these falls run dry.

It's almost as if someone
turns off the tap.

May.

December.

Wet season.

Dry season.

It's happened like this
for thousands of years.

But there are signs that the weather here
is changing.

In recent years,

the volume of water flowing over
Victoria Falls has dropped by half...

...a concern for animals
that have come to rely on

the natural rhythms of wet and dry.

Zambia's Luangwa River
is a major tributary of the Zambezi.

Every year, as the dry season takes hold,

it dwindles into pools.

Accommodation starts to get tight
for the locals.

(HIPPO GRUNTS)

With no other water around,
the river becomes a magnet for visitors.

Millions of red-billed quelea
flock to the water's edge.

These seed-eaters
need to drink every day...

...and Nile crocodiles know it.

They may not have eaten for six months.

For them, the dry season
is the start of the good times.

And they are not the only ones
to depend on this time of year.

Carmine bee-eaters have flown hundreds of
miles from the rainforests of the Congo...

...arriving at the peak of the dry season,

when steep sandbanks
are exposed by the falling water.

They're a perfect place to nest,
out of reach of predators from above.

Bee-eater burrows can extend
for two metres into the soft river sand.

Already home to 6,000 nests,

real estate at Bee-eater Towers
is in high demand.

But it pays not to build too close
to the neighbours.

As more birds arrive, competition
for the best nesting sites heats up.

It's thirsty work.

In the sudden commotion,
they're vulnerable from below...

...and above.

African fish eagles.

They are permanent residents here.

But at this time of the year,
they don't just eat fish.

The safest place to be is inside a burrow.

But an eagle fly-by sends shockwaves
of panic through the colony.

The eagle's strategy is to pin
their prey against the river bank.

With the colony in disarray,
the predators have the advantage.

These fish eagles also choose
to breed in the dry season

because they need the bee-eaters
as food for their chicks.

But this year's dry season
shows no sign of letting up.

Parts of the river are now bone dry,

forcing huge male hippos from their home.

With nowhere left to turn,

they must converge
on the few remaining patches of water.

(HIPPO GRUNTS)

But these are already occupied.

The resident bull here

can't tolerate another big male
in his shrinking pool.

(HIPPO BELLOWS)

The newcomer is banished.

Still, the sun bakes the land...

...with devastating consequences.

Hundreds of nests are wiped out.

Southern Africa has experienced
dry seasons

for thousands of years.

But this is something different.

Record high temperatures
and the lowest rainfall in nearly 40 years

have thrown parts of Africa into
one of the worst droughts in a century.

(THUNDER CRASHES)

Across the planet,
our once stable climate is changing.

Weather is less reliable...

...and is getting more extreme.

Wildfires are becoming more frequent.

Droughts are more intense.

And storms are more ferocious.

All this from a recent rise
in global temperatures

of just a single degree Celsius.

Yet if climate change continues unchecked,

we may see a rise of almost five degrees
by the end of the century.

We can only imagine what this will do
to our weather.

There are a few things more daunting
for the wildlife film crew

than the prospect of finding
a very rare animal in a vast area.

But that is the mission
in Mongolia's Gobi Desert -

to film an animal
numbering less than 500

in a wilderness of
half a million square miles.

We're all loaded up, we got 40 cases
of gear, we got nine vehicles.

We're off, we're heading to the Gobi.

DAVID: From the capital, Ulaanbaatar,

it'll take the team five days to cross
Mongolia in the depths of winter,

travelling in a convoy of large camping
trucks - home for the next five weeks.

1, 000 miles later, the convoy reaches
the Gobi and makes camp.

Well, we have woken up
on our first morning

and it's about an hour-and-a-half
before sunrise

and, rather foolishly,
we let the fire go out last night,

so it's a cool minus 20 in here.

Everything's frozen solid -
toothpaste, hot sauce for breakfast,

even the AP's pee bottle,

so that's nice.

Finding a scarce animal in an area
the size of Belgium

is clearly no small task...

(MUFFLED RADIO CONVERSATION)

...but impossible without the help
of local researchers.

Each day, the team scour thousands
of square miles.

JOHN: It's a huge area,
and there's only 450 camels,

so it really is a bit like
a needle in a haystack.

A truly enormous haystack.

- 450 camels...
- (LAUGHS)

...28,000 square miles.

- Easy, yeah?
- Yeah.

And when scanning the horizon for camels,

mistakes are all too easy.

Another bush.

A bush. Sorry.

Sometimes there's not even
a bush to look at.

- See anything?
- Nothing.

Another hill climbed.

Another trail followed.

Another dead end.

Thankfully, the experts remain positive.

I hope you can see them soon.

- Yeah, yeah.
- Please.

Two weeks since leaving the UK -
just hoping that we haven't...

...been slightly overambitious
on this one.

Getting slightly worried it might
actually be impossible.

(SIGHS)

- Hmm.
- It's good support there, thanks.

Eventually,
the team spot their first camel,

but, unfortunately, it spotted them first.

Very far away.

Poaching has made
the surviving camels very nervous

and once they start running,
they can keep going for miles.

(WIND HOWLS)

And when the winter winds kick off,
all signs of camel vanish.

So for about the last 24 hours,
we've been experiencing the Gobi winds.

It's been gusting up to 70 miles an hour
all night,

and the temps have probably been down to
almost negative 50 with the wind-chill.

We just have to hunker down.
We can't film in this.

When the gale eases,
the search reveals new hope.

We got a load of fresh camel tracks here.

And all tracks head one way -

towards the even more remote
mountainous southern Gobi.

The team must decide
if they should follow.

Do you think that landscape
is likely to be better for us?

More camels and closer encounters or...?

What's your gut telling you?

Because of the wintertime,
we need to see some snow...

- Mmm.
- ...to see camels.

To survive in this waterless desert,
the camels depend on finding snow.

So with none in sight,
the team decide to try their luck

in the icy mountains to the south.

Sure enough, there's snow -
and lots of it.

But the larger camping trucks struggle
in the mountainous terrain

and the team are forced to go on
without them,

leaving them somewhat more exposed
to the winter conditions.

It's been down to minus 25
over the last week.

So very thin canvas tents will be a whole
new experience in the Gobi Desert for us.

I'm wearing, currently,
two pairs of trousers, thermals,

thermals on top, two pairs of jumpers,
three coats, two hats,

so I think I should be all right.

(EXHALES)

TOBY: All right, Eddie?

Oh, I'm terrific, yeah. (LAUGHS)

Really terrific.

(SIGHS CONTENTEDLY)

ED: I'm all cosy.

I'm not. I'm cold. (LAUGHS) Really cold.

As Adiya predicted,
with snow come camels.

The signs are everywhere.

But having travelled so far, they can't
risk anything ruining this chance.

(QUIETLY) Camels don't seem to like
the cars so...

...now we walk.

ED: We've been walking
for about five miles now

and hiking across this landscape,

it really does give you
a new-found respect for the camels.

We've seen some camels
way out on the plain here,

but in order not to scare them,
John's going to head out on his own.

Yeah, yeah, I can see him. He's, um...

ADIYA: Going to south?

ED: Yeah, he's going to the south,
he's just this side of the ridge.

- ADIYA: The camels come to John.
- They are?

- The camels are coming to John?
- Of course they are.

- Yes!
- Really?

- (RADIO BEEPS)
- JOHN: Maybe grab the bags

and come down to where I am now
by these bushes

and we'll see if we can't slip down
into the oasis.

ED: (QUIETLY) This is just amazing.
It's hard fought.

But the reward is so worth it,

because right now
we're about 100 metres away...

...from some of the rarest
and hardiest mammals on the planet.

Oh, what a privilege!

DAVID: The team film behaviour
very few people have seen...

...rare images of one of the world's
most endangered creatures.

Once widespread across Central Asia,

this uninhabited desert is
the wild camels' final home.

Were it not for Adiya's team,
it might have disappeared altogether,

but because of their work,
we may yet save this icon of the Gobi.