All language subtitles for Absentia - 01x03 - Eng

For most of the year
South Africa's

western border with the sea
is severe and unforgiving.

It's a narrow and harsh belt of
coastline called the Sandveld.

But for the creatures
that live in the ocean,

it's an entirely
different story

A rich current

provides generously for every
inhabitant of the sea.

For those that thrive

in the cold temperatures
and stormy swells,

this underwater domain
is a sanctuary.

The Sandveld
is a land of contrasts,

And every creature has adapted
to endure its volatile habitat.

South Africa's western frontier
with the sea

is a harsh and arid terrain.

A narrow strip of land
shouldering the ocean,

the Sandveld is as unyielding
as it is beautiful.

The sands that line the coast
are coarse and drained.

They provide only
for hardy shrubs

and their resilient residents.

The seasons fluctuate
between extremes.

The inhabitants of the Sandveld

have to withstand
the relentless winds,

The salt-laden mists -

And the scorching sun.

But for a small portion
of the year

after the winter rains finish,

the August spring
brings new life -

and the landscape
becomes a wonderland.

While they patiently await
the arrival of spring,

the animals
on this stretch of earth

stubbornly endure their
unforgiving home.

The ocean paints
a very different picture.

The rocky shores
that abruptly sever

the Sandveld's link to the ocean
are rich and nurturing.

The sea is as plentiful
as the land is scarce.

While the terrestrial creatures
fight the severity of the land,

those that live in the sea

group in their masses to enjoy
the generosity of the ocean.

The neighbors
of these two bordering realms

are as dissimilar
as their habitats.

And every animal here

must endure the seasons and cope
with the area in which it lives.

This stretch of beach
in the north of the Sandveld

is home to the Cape fur seal -

and it's their permanent base.

Seals are ocean-based mammals,

but they have strong ties
to the land.

They spend most of their time
in the sea,

Yet they still breathe air

and they have to come on to land
to rest and to give birth.

Seals are a curious
crossover species

caught somewhere between
two vastly different worlds -

part land and part ocean.

They're considerably more
cumbersome when moving around

on solid ground.

This is where they are
most vulnerable to predation,

but also where they need to come
to breed.

Because of this,
large groups of seals

only occur where terrestrial
predators are limited.

Optimum sites
are few and far between.

This beach at Kleinzee
in the Sandveld

holds the largest on-land
aggregation of Cape fur seals

in the world.

With such large numbers, prime
space is a valuable commodity -

One that only the dominant bulls
can procure.

A successful bull territory

can contain up to 30 females
and their offspring.

The pups will nurse
for 10 months, until spring.

Then the big bulls will emerge

to fight
for the best mating sites.

Forcing the youngsters out

to face the challenges
of the ocean by themselves.

The arrival of spring

signals the beginning
of their independence.

Because of the double-nature
of their existence,

seals can choose
whether to face the dangers

of the Atlantic ocean,

or the severity of the land.

Not every animal
has this luxury.

While spring means exile
for the baby seals,

the Sandveld's
landlocked inhabitants

desperately await its arrival.

Imprisoned by barriers of
mountains and rivers on one side

and the cold Atlantic
on the other,

the animals that live here
have to endure the hot summer

and wet winter,

waiting for the brief
window of life in spring.

During the summer the Sandveld
is hostile and scarce.

Temperatures reach
90 degrees Fahrenheit.

And only half an inch
of rainfall

reaches the land per month.

Little is provided
for those who live here.

And death

is a constant visitor.

Within this landscape,

the smallest of creatures
have made their home.

The Angulate tortoise is bound
to wander the Sandveld,

laboriously moving through the
terrain in search of shelter.

They are hardy and robust,

able to survive
in difficult conditions.

And there are a number of tricks
that help them endure

their dry habitat.

Their skin is hard
and impermeable.

This greatly reduces the amount
of water that they lose.

The dry Sandveld wind

consistently withers
all that it encounters,

and so the Angulate tortoise

spends as little time away
from the shelter of the shrubs

as it can.

The key to their survival

is their shy nature.

But there are
other reptiles here

that have adapted
to take advantage

of the abundant exposure
of the open lands.

Where the hot summer sun
is a persecution to others,

it is a source
of life and mobility

for the lizards of the Sandveld.

They are cold blooded,
so they need to bask in the sun

to regulate
their body temperature.

But this can be as much a burden
as it is a blessing

especially in the Sandveld.

Relying on the sun's heat means
this Cape girdled lizard

has to leave itself exposed
in plain view.

The boulders that the lizard
depends on for basking

are the ideal hunting ground
for a Rock kestrel.

But these rocks are also
the main defense

of the Sandveld's reptiles.

Their solace is temporary;

soon they must leave again
to find warmth and food.

And so they rely on both
the shelter of the rock crevices

and on the open exposure
of the surface.

A curious double bind
that sees these small reptiles

constantly maneuvering around
the boulders of the Sandveld.

One species

seems to have solved this
dilemma in an interesting way.

Armadillo girdled lizards

have a heavily armored
outer tail and body,

but their soft underbellies
are vulnerable.

And they have dealt with this
in an intriguing fashion.

By biting their tails,
the lizards ensure

that they don't leave their
vulnerable sections exposed.

And they have another tactic
to protect themselves

from the predators
of the Sandveld.

Armadillo girdled lizards
aggregate in large groups.

They have sentries
manning multiple posts,

facing all directions.

If a threat comes from the sky
or the ground,

it will be seen by one
of the many lizards on watch.

They wait underneath the
protection of overhanging rocks,

only leaving to bask

or to eat.

Within such large groups,
there are hierarchies.

And when food is limited,

only the most dominant
get to enjoy it.

Socializing among lizards
is not a common phenomenon,

but suitable cover is limited.

So Armadillo girdled lizards
join together to find food,

shelter from the elements

and evade predators.

Refuge is not easy to come
across in the Sandveld.

Only the hardiest vegetation can
survive this difficult terrain.

This is Namaqualand sand fynbos;

It occupies 270,000 acres
of the Sandveld.

It's the driest
of all fynbos types.

In some areas

it manages to live within
a meager average rainfall

of less than 4 inches per year.

So like all that live here,

it has ingenious ways to survive
the harshness of its habitat.

As the Benguela
current surges along the coast

it draws frigid,
deep water to the surface.

When the prevailing winds blow
onshore from farther out to sea,

they carry warm air
laden with moisture.

The warm moisture collides
with the cold surface water,

giving rise to thick fog.

Here the ocean feeds the land.

Mists and winds are present for
at least 120 nights of the year,

And they are a gift
to the resident plants.

It's estimated that the moisture
delivered by the Sandveld fog

can be up to three times as much
as the amount of its rainfall.

This is where
the scarcity of the land

and the richness
of the ocean meet.

Because of this,
the plants have developed

to make the most of their main
source of nourishment.

The roots of many species
in the habitat

have numerous fine divisions
just below the earth.

These help maximize the surface
area of the water intake.

Within these conditions,

an intriguing plant flourishes
among the fynbos.

The Euphorbia caput-madusae.

So named
because of its long tentacles

emerging like the serpents on
the head of the mythological

Greek figure.

It survives
the unremitting habitat

by remaining partly underground;

leaving only
its branches exposed.

And there's a creature that has
an unexpected relationship

with these serpentine spires.

The Rough-scaled girdled lizard

is one of the few members
of its kind that doesn't hide

between the rocks.

Its head and body

are not flattened like many
of the other girdled lizards;

this reflects its preference for
living away from boulders.

It has another way to shelter

from the Sandveld's
elements and predators.

The plant protects the reptiles

in the way that rocks protect
the other girdled lizards.

When under threat
from a predator,

it can lose itself
within the labyrinthine stems.

And it provides
another important service.

Because invertebrates
also shelter here;

the lizards do not need to move
far to get their food.

They're gifted a complimentary
room service for their tenure.

But there aren't many euphorbias

that can provide
adequate protection.

So competition
for the ones that do

is fierce.

There's a hierarchy
within the plant's residents -

those that are lower down
are condemned

to the more exposed spires.

The stronger lizards have their
choice of the sections

that are
harder for predators to access.

This is a necessary compromise,
produced by the harsh habitat.

The severity has caused
an otherwise solitary lizard

to become communal.

Until the winter rains arrive

the Sandveld relinquishes little
for its residents.

Springbok thrive in aridity.

They're at home grazing amongst
the scant dunes.

By being able to digest
young tender grass

and a variety
of shrubs and succulents,

they're well provided for.

But their greatest advantage
for surviving these lands

is their ability
to go without fresh water.

And this is the trick

that also allows
the Sandveld's largest resident

to see the summer through.

Cape eland can go
for long periods

without needing to drink.

This nomadic family constantly
moves through the Sandveld.

Their broad habitat tolerance
and extremely varied diet

allow them to cope.

But in order to survive, there
needs to be enough moisture

in the plants that they eat.

Until the winter rains,

this family must survive
off the little that's on offer.

While those on land
endure the summer heat,

the ocean continues
to burst with life.

As the Benguela current
moves up the coast,

the earth's rotation
causes the surface water

to deflect away from the shore.

Coupled with
the prevailing winds,

this draws up cold,
nutrient rich water

from as deep as 1000 feet below.

As the nutrient-rich water

is pulled shallow enough to
collide with the sun's rays,

an explosion of life occurs.

Forests of free-floating algae
come into bloom.

Attracting
large schools of fish.

These in turn

bring the carnivores.

Among them, hundreds and
thousands of Cape fur seals

and sea birds
that arrive to feed.

Pieces of drift kelp

soak up the water's nourishment
and wash to shore.

As the winds whip
and batter the sea,

they whisk up a thick froth
of organic matter.

These water-borne clouds
are rich in biological material

that feeds the intertidal zones.

A constant influx of nutrients
infiltrates the ocean border

in many different forms.

This draws some unexpected
inland visitors out.

Flamingos

use their bill to filter through
the surface of the water -

this optimizes the nutrients
they can extract.

Adapted to function best across
the still waters of a lake,

this technique is
considerably harder to practice

on a moving wave.

But they persevere

in order to enjoy the banquet
that the coastline offers.

The intertidal zones
are the portal

between the Sandveld
and the sea,

and they are
coursing with nutrients.

Water constantly moves
in and out of the rock pools

with the tide.

Flooded twice a day,
the animals that exist here

must be able
to live in two worlds.

For a portion of their time they
are completely submerged -

for the rest
they are entirely exposed.

There are a number of species
that thrive

in this restless world,

But the most successful one

is not even from here.

The Mediterranean mussel arrived
in the seventies when its larvae

were transported in the ballast
water of visiting tankers

from Europe.

They have all but completely

replaced the indigenous
intertidal invertebrates,

due to their speedier growth
and reproduction rates.

But their success has played
a part in the recuperation

of another Sandveld resident.

African black oystercatchers

are some of South Africa's most
endangered coastal birds,

but their numbers
are on the rise.

They've entirely adjusted
their diet

to include
these superabundant aliens,

and this has raised their
reproductive success.

To feed on the mussels,
oystercatchers must wait

until the mussel itself
starts feeding.

As the mollusks feed they
filter water into their bodies -

to do this

they must loosen their otherwise
tightly clamped valves.

Here the bird takes its chance,

striking quickly
to remove the tasty treat.

Mediterranean mussels
now make up 90 percent

of this endangered bird's diet.

This has lead
to a 30 percent increase

in oystercatcher populations
over the last 30 years.

The Benguela current is the
primary motor behind life here;

it drives the scores of aquatic
animals that live in the sea,

whilst also providing moisture
in the form of mist and fog

for those that endure
the Sandveld landscape.

Winter brings rain;

The parched land floods.

The amount of rain relinquished
increases to over 6 times

the dry season average.

And as the clouds clear
and the spring sun comes out,

the coast is injected
with new life.

The changing seasons bring
transformation and relief.

And this prompts the arrival of
another, very peculiar resident

of the Sandveld.

The Mountain white spot
caterpillar.

Not much is known
about these insects.

As the rains ease,

they emerge to devour the leaves
of the Gonna bush.

These are their host plant

and they grow in abundance in
the West Coast National Park.

When the males eventually grow
into adult moths,

they will be handsome specimens
with long wings

but with imperfect mouths,
so they cannot feed.

And the females

are just as unusual.

She will remain wingless,

her eyes, head and antennae

will never emerge

and her legs will stay
far too small

for any practical purposes.

As a result,
she never leaves her cocoon

but merely waits for a male to
seek her out and mate with her.

She will lay about 100 eggs
inside her cocoon

and then die.

The eggs will hide out inside of
her shriveled body

for the long, harsh summers
and wet winters.

Then they'll hatch next spring

to consume these leaves
and reproduce again,

and so their cycle continues.

This frantic activity
is one of the first signs

of winter drawing to a close
and spring beginning.

Male cape weavers
begin building their nests.

They're skillfully
and delicately crafted.

The males with the most
appealing decor

will be the most
successful breeders.

Once construction is complete,

they will wait
at the entrance to their homes

and signal
to any passing female,

attempting to lure them in.

They're highly polygamous.

A well-built male territory
can seduce up to seven mates,

if the builder can successfully
entice them inside.

When the time is right,
the female will wait inside here

and incubate her eggs.

But attracting a mate
is harder than it seems -

males must constantly jostle
in the search for partners.

The weavers
aren't the only birds alive

with the preparations of spring.

Waders breed in Siberia
during the summer,

but as the black
Arctic winter approaches

they undertake
a massive migration

that ends here

in time for spring.

Langebaan lagoon inside
the West Coast National Park

hosts 55,000 waders every year.

Their arrival ushers in a time
of plenty for the Sandveld.

They thrive off the large
quantities of invertebrates

inside the lagoon.

Here alone they consume over
300,000 pounds annually.

The waters become a hub
of constant activity.

These migratory birds
have traveled across the globe

to enjoy the Sandveld spring

and all of the food
that the lagoon relinquishes.

The time has come for
the seal pups to face the ocean.

And some seem more prepared
than others.

They must be ready to fend for
themselves in the cold Atlantic.

But this is a challenge
that their bodies

are well equipped for.

Once underwater

the pups
are superb aquatic acrobats.

Their most important sensory
organs are their eyes.

These are lubricated
by the salt water,

allowing them to see better
under the waves than on land.

Their whiskers
are sensitive to all vibrations

and direct them to their prey.

As the Benguela current
continues to provide food

for the schools of pelagic fish
along the rocky shores,

these youngsters have every
opportunity to hunt

and grow into adults.

And by the time they're
5 years old

they'll emerge
on the Sandveld's shores

to start the next generation.

When the winter rains
draw to a close

and spring temperatures
start to rise,

the landscape
completely transforms.

For a brief window from August
to September every year,

the Sandveld comes alive.

Life and color
embroider the landscape.

Flowers bring the insects,

who provide an invaluable
contribution.

Their pollination efforts allow
this floral kingdom to continue.

The insects in turn

bring the birds.

Each year thousands of birds
arrive to feast in the fields.

And for the Sandveld's antelope,

the arrival
of the spring flowers

also signals
a brief period of plenty.

But this brevity is compensated
by its brilliance.

The eland family
has patiently awaited

the spring transformation,

And they're joined by others of
their kind to reap the rewards.

The flowers
retain much rainwater

and are a welcome snack.

Bontebok will spend
more than half of their day

grazing the flowers.

The Sandveld is the only place
in the world where Bontebok

occur naturally.

And so they're adapted
to eat a large variety of plants

in this floral biome.

During the long, dry summer

Cape mountain zebra

were forced to leave their
preferred coastal grasses

and move to shrubs and leaves
as the land provided less.

But now they flood back
to the open pastures.

The land provides generously for
all who have patiently endured

the long months of drought.

The Sandveld spring
is a time of respite.

The landscape,

which for the majority of the
year is scant and unyielding,

unfolds into a carpet of color

and vitality.

This is a welcome reward

for all who have endured
the scorching summers

and harsh winters.

But the ocean is the true
backbone of all who live here.

When little rain is provided
for the landlocked residents,

it gives moisture
in the form of fog.

And for those
that live in the sea,

an abundance of resources

ensure that it's always
teeming with activity.

The Sandveld exists
as a delicate interplay

between land and ocean.

And this interrelationship is
something that every resident

from its smallest plants

Quirkiest reptiles

And most charismatic mammals,

have all adapted
to take advantage of.

To live here is to live within
two different worlds

And the result is a habitat
full of both the delicate

and the dauntless...

This is the Sandveld,

the land of contrasts.

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