Original subtitles

- Some call this, "The Land God Made in Anger."

Others, "The Gates of Hell."

Scorching heat.

Shimmering mirages.

The deserts of Namibia in South West Africa.

This is a hostile place.

Yet there's life here in abundance.

How do these creatures survive?

Animals this size are rare in the desert.

Large bodies need huge quantities of food and water.

In the deserts of Namibia,

both are in short supply.

Some of the largest animals on the planet

flourishing in one of the driest landscapes on Earth.

Namibia's desert kingdom is framed by two enduring rivers,

to the north and the south.

You can travel for days here

and see nothing but dust and sand.

The secret to survival in this barren landscape

lies in these vast, dry valleys cut through the land.

River beds with no sign of water.

Yet here, even without rain, life clings on.

These rivers of sand are the desert's beating heart.

Strangely, the Namib Desert is created by water.

Far inland, rivers flow through the mountains.

This is a land of rock and water.

And with so much water,

there's no shortage of life.

Rock hyraxes make their homes on the steep valley sides.

Swifts nest here by the thousand

and they're constantly on the wing in search of insects.

Over millions of years,

water wears away the rock.

It carves deep gorges,

grinds mountains into sand,

and washes it down towards the sea.

Eventually, sandy sediment flows from the river's mouth,

and settles on the ocean floor.

Here, a new force takes hold.

The powerful Benguela current sweeps

the sand northwards along the coast,

and back in towards land.

Tides and storms deposit it along the desert coast.

Billions of tons of sand are dumped here,

then driven inland by the relentless trade wind

to create the vast, beautiful,

and hostile dunes of Namibia's desert.

No rain.

No water.

Just sand.

It blows across the empty plains,

swirls through the dry valleys that cut through the desert.

The valley floor is home to creatures

that could survive nowhere else here.

Springbok.

Oryx.

Even elephants.

The trees are a clue to these animals' survival.

Plants cannot grow without one vital ingredient.

Somewhere here, there is water.

It's so dry in the Namib Desert

that water usually only flows down these sand valleys

for a month or two each year.

Even then, the river rarely reaches the sea.

The sand is deep and dry.

The water sinks away.

Only the deepest roots can find it.

It's what makes life here possible.

Even a full-grown bull elephant struggles

to reach the good stuff.

It's time to get creative.

Elephants are social animals.

They're not all tall enough to reach,

so once the branch is down,

it's not long before others want to share.

The bull's having none of it.

Well, maybe he could let the youngster have just a bit.

By the time the rest of the gang arrive,

there's nothing left.

The fact that so many elephants can live here

is testament to their extraordinary survival skills.

The babies of these desert elephants suckle

from their mothers for up to seven years.

Much longer than their cousins on the savannah.

Without that, it's unlikely they'd survive.

Adult males are mostly solitary.

They live away from the herd.

And this one has had enough of company.

He's off.

These old giants know every inch of the desert.

They know exactly where to find food,

and they know how long it may be

before the river flows again.

Moisture trapped beneath the sand

is not the only source of water here.

The same trade winds that create the dunes

also nourish the plants.

The weather along Namibia's coast is notoriously brutal.

The shoreline is littered with wrecks.

Those who survived the sea

mostly died of thirst or exposure.

The few who lived to tell the tale gave this shore its name,

the Skeleton Coast.

But these same currents that threaten ships

also water the desert.

Cold seawater is heated by the warm desert shore.

Moisture rises into the air.

From time to time,

the trade winds blow this humid air inland.

Banks of mist drift across the desert.

In the sand river,

in the cool of the morning,

water condenses on the leaves.

For one ephemeral hour

it's almost as though it had rained.

But soon reality returns.

For desert giraffes,

finding food is only half the battle.

The hard part is winning a mate.

These two males are normally content

in each other's company.

But when a female comes by, that changes.

Male giraffes impress females by sparring.

This fight is comparatively gentle.

They can be brutal.

The female's not impressed.

She may not be ready.

Or perhaps she's aware that they're not alone.

A lion pride this size is extremely rare in the desert.

Three females and five cubs.

There is enough prey for them,

but these desert lions have been persecuted

by humans to near extinction.

Many of the animals that remain now wear radio collars.

Tracking the prides provides

some small measure of protection.

Here, for now, they are comparatively safe.

There's time to play in the cool of the morning.

There's a whole world to explore.

But there are hard times ahead.

The sand river has been dry for almost a year.

And with every passing day,

the land grows drier.

It could be months before water flows again.

Yet life goes on.

Lovebirds shelter in the shade of the rocks.

There are still seeds for them to feed on,

and a new generation of lovebirds to create.

Baboons thrive here.

These are true survivors.

They too find shelter on the sand river's rocky walls.

Fruits and leaves provide welcome moisture.

In the sand river,

food can be found if you know where to look.

The older more experienced baboons rarely go hungry.

Food is not the problem.

As always here, it's water.

A meerkat family finds just enough

to eat on the slopes above the valley.

They can survive here because they don't need to drink.

They get all the water they need from their food.

It's a small family,

just five adults and three babies.

It's all the land can support.

Life is far from easy.

Every day they must scratch a living

from the unforgiving sand and gravel.

Breakfast may be grubs or beetles,

if they are lucky, a juicy scorpion.

Just as the insects make it possible

for meerkats to live here,

so the meerkats make life possible for others.

They must watch for foxes,

jackals, snakes, and for danger from above.

Eagles patrol these skies.

This one has already made a kill.

But it's not from their group.

For now, the skies are safe.

While the family forages,

at least one always stands guard.

An alarm bark.

One has spotted danger.

This Cape fox is uncomfortably close.

He may just be resting,

or he could be contemplating breakfast.

Most likely, he's just warming up in the early morning sun.

It's a calculated risk,

but perhaps there is time to catch that beetle after all.

In the end,

the family decide that the fox

is just too close for comfort.

He's not going anywhere.

In fact, he may have moved in for good.

This may be a safer home.

The rocky outcrop will help shelter them from the sun

and from predators, for now.

But inevitably, predators will find them again.

Life in the sand river means constantly moving on.

On the vast barren plains between the sand river valleys,

life is even tougher.

As always, it's all about the hunt for water.

Ostriches can walk huge distances.

They're built for the desert.

Oryx and springbok, too.

They're in search of a rare desert jewel...

A small fresh water spring,

far from the sand river.

For the animals that can get here,

there's a trickle of water all year round.

Martins take a drink on the wing.

Sandgrouse fly in from up to 60 kilometers away.

Huge flocks gather every morning.

They dip their breast feathers,

soaking up water to carry back for their young

way off in the desert.

They must remain alert.

Falcons watch over the oasis.

For them, too, this is a place of plenty.

The grouse see a predator coming.

They scatter.

This time, the falcon misses,

but soon she'll try again.

The oasis attracts animals for kilometers around.

Often, the need for water outweighs the need to hunt.

In any case,

ostriches have very little to fear from a thirsty jackal.

They can drink and bathe in peace.

With so little vegetation here,

they won't find much to eat.

This is a place to visit, not to stay.

After the ostriches,

the oryx take their turn.

They guard the water jealously.

They have a strict drinking order.

The strongest must drink their fill

before the weaker animals get a chance.

In extreme drought,

a low ranking oryx can die of thirst

within meters of the spring.

For the sandgrouse, too,

death is never far away.

This time, the falcon doesn't miss.

In the sand river valley,

the elephants have developed their own unique way

to get water.

The trees have deep roots.

They're proof that there is water here.

The only problem is reaching it.

The baboons grow excited when the elephants arrive.

They know what's coming next.

The elephants are their ticket to a free drink.

These huge bulls know the desert well.

And their sense of smell is powerful enough

to sniff out the smallest amount of water,

even buried underground.

When he's pinpointed the spot,

the bull begins to dig.

All the baboons need to do is wait.

About a meter down,

the elephant finds what he's looking for.

He siphons off the sandy water

to leave a fresh, clear pool.

The elephants of the sand river know all the places to dig.

Most likely, they learned from their families.

Elephants pass knowledge from generation to generation.

It's the key to their success.

The baboons wait for the elephants

to leave the freshly dug wells.

Even an eagle welcomes a drink of fresh water in the desert.

For all these animals,

this is a fleeting opportunity.

All too soon, these wells will run dry.

The elephants go on their way.

But they leave behind a new opportunity for hungry animals.

Their dung.

The elephant's digestive system is very inefficient.

Their dung contains plenty of nutrients

they couldn't digest.

For the elephants,

that means a constant search for food

while other animals feast on undigested seeds

and insects that gather on the dung.

Soon, the last drops of water

and the last scraps of dung will be gone.

Searing heat scorches the desert.

One day the river will flow again.

But first, it must rain in mountains hundreds

of kilometers to the east.

Until then, the next drink

and the next meal are never certain.

The lion cubs are about five months old.

They need fresh meat every few days,

or else they'll starve.

Francolins pick over the remains of the elephant dung.

Ideal stalking practice for ambitious young predators.

Luckily for the birds,

the lion cubs are easily distracted.

These youngsters still have a lot to learn

before they can kill for themselves.

For now, it's up to their mothers to supply them with food.

Lions are ambush predators,

but in this desert environment,

opportunities are rare,

and concealment is hard.

One cub can't resist and follows the adults.

It's a mistake that could spoil the hunt

and cost the small youngster its life.

An oryx is heading towards them, an opportunity.

The lionesses split.

Two females hide behind a rocky outcrop.

The other takes the direct approach,

and the ambush is set.

But the cub spooks a herd of springbok.

For the lone female,

the moment is lost.

Or is it?

The other two are hidden just around the corner.

For the sand river lions,

nine out of 10 hunts ends in failure.

But this time they're in luck.

The females will eat their fill,

then bring the cubs in to feed on what remains.

But while most of the cubs wait patiently

for the females to return,

their sibling is lost.

The lionesses return.

The cubs are delighted to see them,

but the adults soon realize that one is missing.

They call for the missing cub.

The result is potentially a disaster.

The calls have attracted the attention of two large males.

If they fathered the cubs here,

all will be well.

If not, they'll kill them in order

to sire cubs of their own.

All alone in the bush,

the stray cub is an easy target.

Unless it finds its way back to the protection

of its mother, it could easily lose its life.

The sun sets after another dry day in the sand river,

the land perpetually waiting for rain.

A world balanced on a knife edge between life and death.

Dry, clear skies offer starscapes

of unparalleled brilliance.

The cold desert night,

a respite from the brutal heat of the day.

Then a new day begins,

and the temperature starts to climb once more.

Mouse birds warm themselves in the morning sun.

A caracal scans the desert in search of breakfast.

Pied crows mob her.

She'll take their chicks if she can find them.

Unlike the lions,

the caracal hunts alone.

Her huge ears can detect even the smallest movement

in the undergrowth.

A mouse.

The caracal gets both food and moisture from a single meal.

Morning has brought good fortune for the lions, too.

The males have stayed away.

It's a sure sign that they are the cubs' fathers.

If they weren't,

by now the cubs would most likely be dead.

And finally, after many anxious hours,

the pride's stray emerges from the dunes.

A joyful reunion amongst the parched and tangled roots.

For once in this harsh land,

a happy ending.

The males continue their long march around their territory,

checking for intruders.

The pride survives to hunt another day.

The relentless search for water and food continues.

Life clings on,

scrabbling for dry grass,

bitter seeds, and fruit.

In the sand river itself,

it never rains.

But in the mountains far to the desert's east,

there is change.

Hundreds of kilometers away,

at long last, rain has fallen.

It pours through rocks and canyons,

and spills out onto the desert floor.

In the sand river,

there is a familiar harsh blue sky.

Finally, many hours later,

the river comes to life.

It's a meager trickle,

but it's more water than this valley has seen for a year.

The life-blood of the Namib Desert.

The reason why anything can live here at all.

The water will soon soak away.

It will pool amongst the rocks below the sand.

The roots of the trees will reach down towards it.

Their growth will fuel new life.

The sand river is renewed.

And then?

Life goes on.

The future here is always uncertain.

Namibia's desert kingdom endures,

as it has for thousands of years.

And the sand river waits once more for the rains.