All language subtitles for Extreme Africa - 01x02 - Lake Manyar .National Park Eng

In the north of Tanzania,

towering mountains
line a dramatic valley.

Its walls carved
by shifts in the earth's surface

long ago . . .

Enriched by ancient volcanoes,

its slopes provide
a variety of habitats

for life to thrive.

And its great centerpiece

holds water through even
the driest of times.

This is
Lake Manyara National Park.

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East Africa's landscape

is defined
by a geological phenomenon

unlike any other on earth.

Thirty million years ago,

an upwelling of molten rock
beneath the earth's crust

caused the planet's surface
to begin to shift,

tearing
continental Africa apart.

Over the eons
as the tectonic plates split,

the land has fractured
along two fault zones

to form towering mountains

and sunken valleys

that stretch over 3,700 miles.

Known as the Great Rift Valley,

this geological scar
is so immense

it can be seen from space.

Molten lava once burst
to the surface of this rift

through volcanoes
lining the fault zones.

And the rift is still active.

Where the earth erupts,
a caustic environment

supports only the most
specialized of species.

But where eruptions
have long since ceased,

ash that once
spewed across the land

now provides some of the
continent's most fertile soils.

This rich earth

lines the slopes
of Lake Manyara National Park.

Water collects
in the rift mountains,

flowing down
into the valley below.

On its descent
it nurtures diverse habitats;

From forest
and woodland savanna,

to grasslands

and marshes.

Eventually it flows into a
great lake in the valley floor.

This lake is a haven
to a multitude of species

that depend on it
throughout the dry season.

Beyond its banks, the valley
provides for life as well.

Rooted in nourishing soils,

the park's varied environments

are the living legacy
of ancient volcanic activity.

They provide homes
for many species;

Some specialized
to a particular niche.

While others
know how to take advantage

of all that's on offer.

For them the park's variety
presents a banquet

fit for a huge family.

It's morning
in Lake Manyara National Park.

A troop of olive baboons gathers
in the valley's foothills

before embarking
on its daily journey.

They spend the night in
the safety of the high cliffs,

and travel by day
to the sweet grasslands

of the valley floor.

The troop numbers sixty strong,

and it's growing.

The newest baby's pink face

means she's younger
than four months.

And she's already developed

the strength
and coordination to climb.

For her and her older cousins,

life is simple.

While they play,

their seniors engage
in their favorite pastime.

Grooming.

Soon it's time
to begin their journey.

Babies cling to their mothers'
bellies for at least six weeks.

By twelve weeks old
they ride jockey style,

saving their energy

for the next play break.

There's time to steal
a quick drink.

This water
flows down from the mountains,

which rise up to 2,000 feet
above the valley floor.

Now in the height
of the dry season

it's crucial
to life in the park,

fuelling growth
through the toughest times.

In places it runs as streams.

In others it seeps through
the earth as groundwater,

accessed
by the deep roots of trees.

Eventually it spills
into lake Manyara itself.

The foothills are the first to
receive the mountain runoff;

And here vegetation grows
green and dense.

For this Blue monkey,

the forest is a permanent home.

When he's old enough,

he'll challenge for control
of a harem of females.

For now he lives alone,

moving between the territories
of other Blue monkeys.

Manyara's dense vegetation

is crucial to him and his kind.

Blue monkeys can't cope
with long exposure

to the park's tropical sunshine.

Luckily for him, the forests
offer plenty of shade.

And food too.

He gets almost two thirds
of his forage

from only ten plant species,

all of which are provided
in a small home range

in the dense forest.

For the baboons,

things are very different.

They have incredibly
varied diets,

eating virtually all the
edible plants in their travels

through Manyara's
different habitats.

And they've found
one of their favorite foods.

The appropriately named

Sausage tree
grows enormous fruit.

They're a mouthful,

even for a male
with 2 inch long canines.

These razor sharp teeth

also play a crucial role
in battles for power,

and provide important defense
against the baboons' predators.

As do the troop's numbers.

The troop moves with a strong
contingent of big males.

They band together
to protect their kin.

This means that
unlike most of Africa's primates

the troop can venture
onto more open ground,

far from the safety of trees.

But the baboons must be wary
at all times.

There are leopards about.

This big male's territory

covers the border between
Manyara's forest and savanna.

He lives a completely
solitary life.

But his range overlaps with
those of numerous females.

From his vantage point

he advertises his position
to both potential mates

and competitors.

For him
the tree is a resting place,

lookout point

and stage
for making his presence known.

But for many
of the park's other creatures,

the huge trees
that thrive in the rich soils

have a simpler importance.

Figs are a favorite of
Silvery-cheeked hornbills.

This male and female pair

wanders the treetops together
in search of fruit.

Unable to chew,

the hornbill
must position the fig perfectly

for swallowing whole.

And it's easier said than done.

But figs
aren't the only food available.

Like many birds,
the hornbills will eat insects.

And these are abundant
in Lake Manyara National Park.

These bees are preparing to move
to a new home.

They've left their hive
with their queen

and cluster
in a nearby acacia tree,

awaiting the return of scouts.

When a suitable new home
has been found,

the scouts
will give the colony directions

in the form
of an intricate dance.

In their old home

worker bees left behind
will raise a new queen,

allowing reproduction to happen
in the old hive

while a new one is created.

Acacia trees like this

grow abundantly
in the savanna woodlands

between
the forests of the foothills

and the grasslands
in the valley floor.

Here, away from the lake,
surface water is sparse,

especially now in the height
of the dry season.

But the acacias' deep roots give
them access to groundwater.

These trees are a favorite of
another of the park's primates.

Vervet monkeys.

These youngsters
are remarkably adept

at avoiding
injury amongst the thorns.

But the acacias are more
than just props for play.

They produce new leaves and
flowers during the dry season -

fodder for the monkeys.

Like the baboons, Vervets
are opportunistic omnivores

and they eat a range of foods.

Remarkably this includes the
seemingly least appetizing part

of an acacia tree . . .

Its thorns.

By breaking these off and
eating their nutritious base,

the monkeys turn the tree's
only defense mechanism

into a source of food.

The troop's youngest baby

will rely entirely on its mother
for comfort and protection

until it's three months old.

But it takes any opportunity
to explore.

By six months old
it will be largely independent.

For now,

mum's not letting it
out of reach.

Its older cousins engage in some
roughhousing in the open.

Unlike the baboons,

the Vervets are defenseless
against big predators,

and can't stray too far
from the safety of trees.

They keep many eyes
on the lookout.

Vervets have at least five
different warning calls,

for various threats.

And they've learnt to respond
to similar cues

from another species.

A Superb starling
gives different calls

for terrestrial
and air predators,

to warn its own species.

By learning to respond
to the bird's calls,

the monkeys gain extra sentries.

With a much bigger family
than the monkeys,

the baboons
have plenty of lookouts.

Deep into the savanna,

the troop is more than halfway
on its journey.

They too take full advantage of
all the acacias have to offer.

The youngsters devour pods,
leaves and flowers alike.

Their opposable thumbs allow
them to handle their fodder

with remarkable dexterity.

But some pods
fall through the gaps.

Their inclusive diet means the
baboons have plenty of options

for a satisfying snack.

Roots offer
both food and moisture.

And experience
has taught the adults

which part of each plant

offers most
in the way of sustenance.

This ability to select specific
parts of different plants

sets baboons apart from many
of the savanna's animals.

While the troop feeds,

there is time for a midday
grooming session.

Females will often
form relationships

with particular males,

relying on them for defense
against aggression from others.

Grooming is an important part of
cementing these relationships.

But sitting around is boring
for the young pink-faced baby.

She is intent
on exploring her world.

Eventually the troop moves off
on the final leg of its journey.

When the baboons are gone,

a family of elephants

carefully gathers the pods
they've left behind.

At this dry time of year,

Manyara's elephants
separate into small groups

to make the most
of available resources.

Nursing mothers
are especially pressed

to find enough nutrition.

The newest baby

drinks more than two and a half
gallons of milk a day.

Her mother must add

to the hundreds of pounds
she already eats

to account for
the burden of nursing.

Like the baboons, elephants have
incredibly varied diets

and the young mother will chomp
through everything on offer.

A savanna's combination of dry
grass and woody vegetation

provides the browsing elephants
with lots of options.

But for the park's grazers,

the flatlands
surrounding the lake

provide better feeding.

Here, large swathes remain green

despite the long months since
it last rained in the valley.

The lushest of all are broad
marshlands at the lakes edge,

where groundwater bubbles
to the surface in springs.

Here it fuels the growth
of Smooth flatsedge.

In the dry season this sedge

can form 60 percent
of the diet of buffalos.

The old bulls in this group have
been ejected from their herds,

unable to compete for dominance
with younger males.

They now wander the marshes
with only each other

and some
Cattle egrets for company.

The birds take full advantage
of the buffalos' presence.

They snap up insects disturbed
by the hefty herbivores.

And use them as perches
with better vantage points.

The water
seeping into this marsh

is reaching the final stage
of its journey from the hills.

What isn't absorbed by the sedge

will run
into lake Manyara itself,

the park's centerpiece,

and huge epicenter of life.

It's home to many
of the 400 species of bird

found in the park.

They flock to Manyara
from far and wide to feed . . .

and to breed.

Many large waterbirds
frequent the lake,

but among
these the two species dominate.

At 24 pounds,

the Great white pelican is
the biggest of the lake's birds.

To lift their bulk,

these huge birds have wingspans
of more than eleven feet.

They spend as much as a quarter
of the day foraging,

scooping fish from the water
in their pouches.

These birds
are known for their cooperation,

working together to herd fish
into the shallows

for easy pickings.

The pelicans share the lake with
another imposing species . . .

the Yellow-billed stork.

Flocks roost
on the grassy shore.

At only a fifth
of the pelicans' weight

they can spend much less time
foraging, and more time resting.

As they stride
through the shallows,

the storks stir the mud of the
lake bed, disturbing their prey.

Intensely tactile bills
snap shut

as soon as they feel
anything edible.

They feed on a variety
of aquatic life

including fish,
frogs and crustaceans.

There's enough food in the lake

to support flocks
hundreds strong.

The lake's abundance
is only truly appreciated

when compared
with a very different scene,

just 60 miles to the north.

Lake Natron.

Here, the water
supports very little.

Like lake Manyara,

the water flows into Natron
from the surrounding highlands.

But one looming peak

makes this lake
a very different environment.

Ol Doinyo Lengai.

Towering over
7,200 feet above the plains,

this active volcano is known
to the local Maasai people

as 'the mountain of the gods'.

In the last hundred years,
it has erupted 15 times,

spreading volcanic chemicals
over the surrounding soils.

Water flowing both
above and below ground

carries these chemicals
into the lake.

High evaporation rates

leave behind such
high concentrations of salts

that the lake's water
can corrode flesh.

Now in the height
of the dry season,

broad, barren mud flats

surround the receding
caustic waters of lake Natron.

Very little lives in this
extreme and unforgiving land.

With a fantastic exception.

Flamingos.

There are between 1,5
and 2,5 million of these birds

in east Africa.

And most of them hatch on
the mud islands of lake Natron.

Terrestrial predators can't wade
through the corrosive water

to reach the flamingos' nests

but the elegant birds have
adapted to thrive here.

Their legs have tough outer
coverings to protect them.

Flamingos feed
on microscopic algae,

filtering it from the water.

The upside-down curve
to their beaks

allows for maximum intake

when reaching from their height
of more than 3 feet.

In places,
the lake's corrosive water

bubbles up
from beneath the earth

at extremely high temperatures.

And the flamingos must shift
from foot to foot

to withstand the heat.

The huge flock will feed
for up to

twelve and a half hours in a day
to get all it needs.

The flamingos aren't the only
specialists living here.

In streams feeding the lake,

a school of Alkaline tilapia
makes its home.

They are specially adapted to
survive in the oxygen deprived,

caustic waters.

Like the flamingos, they feed
largely on the lake's algae,

grazing the surface of stones.

These two
very different creatures

thrive where few others
can survive,

succeeding through
their specialization.

At Natron's neighbor
to the south,

the allures of the more
forgiving lake Manyara

are lost on the baboons.

They've been on the move
all morning,

and they're
reaching their destination.

For them the valley floor's
main attraction

is these green grasslands.

Despite their varied diets,

grass can make up
more than half of their food.

And these long blades hold a
remarkable treat for the troop.

Spider webs.

There is no definite explanation
for this choice of food.

The baboons could be relishing
anything caught in the webs,

rather than the silk itself.

While they settle in to feed,

there is plenty of time
for troop life to play out.

And of course,
this involves some grooming.

But not all
is completely peaceful.

A show of aggression helps
reinforce rank between males.

Might is right
in baboon society.

While the males
fight for dominance,

the young female baby
inherits her mother's rank,

which she will keep for life.

As always,

the troop keeps
a vigilant watch for predators

and others
are quick to take advantage.

With more eyes on the lookout,

the wildebeest and zebra
join the baboons.

The primates know how to get
exactly what they want

from the grass.

The zebra make up for their lack
of opposable thumbs

with delicate lips

that efficiently pluck
even the shortest blades.

Zebra are adapted to subsist
on a variety of grass types.

Whereas the wildebeest rely on
short, tender growth.

Both of these grazers

take advantage of the baboons'
company while it lasts.

Come nightfall, the troop
will be vulnerable here.

Once they've eaten their fill,

they begin their return journey
to the safe high ground

of the valley's steep walls.

Tomorrow they will
repeat the journey,

taking all they need
from the varied environment

of lake Manyara National Park.

Lake Manyara's lush valley

is the living legacy of past
violent upheavals.

Rich soils combine
with flowing water

to fuel growth in abundance.

The many creatures
that live here

find food . . .

and shelter in plenty.

From generation to generation

they make use
of Manyara's resources

as best they know how.

Filling each niche

from its foothill forests

to the watery haven

of its great lake.

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