All language subtitles for 703D6C9C3E4C6E9068DCC1F40EB5A7C8_eng

The Cape of Good Hope, on Africa's
southerly tip.

Here, two great seas meet.

One, the warm Indian Ocean, the other,
the chilly Atlantic.

And as they mingle, so
they create a billowing

cloak that drapes the
summit of Table Mountain.

Spectacular though this is, the mountain's
cloudy covering is only a hint of the

profound influence that
these two very different

oceans have on the
fortunes of life here.

And not just here at the Cape, but across
the length and breadth of Southern Africa.

2,000 miles north from the Cape, beneath
this sandy beach, new life is stirring.

Hundreds of baby green turtles emerge like
a torrent from the safety of their nest.

Each one, just seven centimetres long, must
make a 100-metre sprint down the beach.

From the moment they hatch, they're driven
by an instinctive urge to run to the sea.

Few creatures start life with the odds for
success so heavily stacked against them.

Yellow-billed kites.

Pied crows.

But so many of these
hatchlings appear

together that predators
can't catch them all.

Last out, this baby might seem doomed.

But struggling out late could just give
her a chance.

The crows seem insatiable.

Even those that reach the sea aren't safe.

This female has to make a dash for it.

She's still in danger, and not just from
above.

A ghost crab may be
smaller than the hatchling,

but it has the strength
to drag her into its lair.

Not this time.

At last, the sea.

She has to catch her
breath if she's not to drown,

but the pounding waves
make it desperately difficult.

CROWD MOVES CROWD MOVES CROWD MOVES

Beyond the surf, calmer water.

But even here, the hatchling is not out of
danger.

She dives...

just in time.

Only one hatchling in a thousand will
survive to adulthood.

But if she does, she may live for 80
years.

For now, the ocean is there to be
explored.

As the hatchling disappears into the deep
blue, she swims into the waters of one of

the planet's most powerful currents,
the Agulhas.

The Agulhas sweep south
towards the Cape, transporting

100 billion gallons of
warm water every day.

These tropical seas are so warm,
they evaporate on an enormous scale.

Water vapour rises until, at altitude,
it cools and condenses into clouds.

As the clouds drift
inland, they bring rain to

one of the least explored
corners of our planet.

The mountains of Mozambique.

This is the wettest place in Southern
Africa.

Decades of civil war have kept travellers
away from this little-known land.

It was satellite mapping that revealed the
full extent of the forest that grows here.

So now it's known to outsiders as the
Google Rainforest.

It could also be called the Butterfly
Forest.

After the rains, butterflies have emerged
from their nests.

They merge together in huge numbers.

As soon as their wings dry out,
they will take to the air.

Their goal?

To find a mate.

But how?

There may be thousands
close by, but the foliage is

so thick, it's difficult for
them to find each other.

They have a remarkable solution.

They follow rivers upstream and travel to
higher ground.

The journey can take hours of determined
flying.

Eventually, they emerge into the only open
space there is.

The treeless peak of Mount Mabu.

Up here, free from the confines of the
forest, they hold a butterfly ball.

Now the butterflies have all the space
they need for their aerobatic courtship.

The male's strategy is simple.

Fly higher and faster than the competition
and just maybe you'll win a virgin female.

This spectacular gathering, unseen by
outsiders until now, happens for just half

an hour each morning and for just a few
weeks in the year.

Once mated, the females descend back to
the rainforest to lay their eggs.

A forest that only exists because of
moisture rising from the warm Agulhas

current, hundreds of miles away in the
Indian Ocean.

The rainwater now flows
southwards from Mozambique's

highest peaks to the
lowlands of the Eastern Cape.

And where the land flattens, rivers slow,
creating a vast swamp fifty miles across.

This is Gorongoza.

Here, all kinds of creatures come to catch
fish.

Whiskered catfish work as a team.

They take a gulp of air
at the surface and then

belch it out under water
to create a net of bubbles.

And that traps little fish.

There are fish for everyone.

And each species has its own technique for
catching them.

It's all very well having a big beak,
but you've still got to know how to use it.

This young pelican has a lot to learn.

And not long to do so.

Maybe, like the catfish, teamwork is the
answer.

It's certainly working for the flock.

And this pelican seems to be getting the
hang of it.

But surely it can't swallow that catfish.

Trying to was a mistake.

The rainwater briefly
held in Gorongosa's

swamp has now been
enriched with silt and sand.

All down this coast,
sediment-laden rivers, the

Zambezi, the Limpopo, the
Save, drain back to the sea.

And there they meet the Agulhas current.

And what happens to all that sand?

Over the millennia, the Agulhas has worked
it into a complex underwater landscape.

This vast sand
sculpture is the Bazaruto

archipelago, the oldest
of its kind in the world.

It may look like paradise, but living here
is not easy.

For a hundred thousand years, the Agulhas
current has battered these submerged dunes

with underwater sandstorms.

But where the water is deep enough to
escape these storms, nutrients carried

from Africa's interior fuel an explosion
of life.

A rare oceanic hunter rules here.

Giant kingfish.

As big as a man, and weight for weight,
one of the most powerful fish in the sea.

Despite their size, they're
extraordinarily agile when hunting.

Normally, kingfish are solitary.

But for just a few weeks
each year, they gather at places

like Bazaruto and prepare
for an extraordinary journey.

One that will take them far inland.

The Ntentu River.

The king of kingfish leads them upstream.

As they travel further into
freshwater, they seem to

change from aggressive
hunters into dedicated pilgrims.

Now, many miles from their natural home,
and in response to an unknown cue,

they stop and begin to circle.

Other marine fish that migrate upriver
usually do so in order to breed.

But there's no evidence that these
kingfish spawn up here.

Neither do they hunt.

So what are they doing?

In truth, the purpose of this strange
behavior is still unknown.

Within a few weeks, they will retrace
their journey back to the ocean.

The lives of kingfish, like those of
turtles and butterflies and pelicans,

are influenced by the Agulhas current.

But that influence can only reach so far.

And this is why.

The Drakensberg Mountains.

Here, local people say that the vultures
soar so high they can see into the future.

These sheer cliffs, rising to over 3,000
meters, hold back the advancing rain

clouds, and as a result, the land beyond
them is starved of water.

This is the greatest expanse of sand in
the world.

A seemingly endless desert that is the
vast, parched center of Southern Africa.

Thousands of miles to
the west, where this desert

meets the Atlantic Ocean,
another current prevails.

But the Benguela
current, surging up the west

side of Africa, has a
very different character.

It's extremely cold, full of nutrients,
and it's thronged with life.

A great white shark.

They can raise their body temperature to 10
degrees above that of the surrounding sea.

But doing so requires an enormous amount
of high-grade fuel.

So this is the great bonanza for them.

The body of a dead whale.

The carcass will draw in every great white
for miles around.

And here, off Cape Town, that means a lot
of sharks.

Instead of feeding in a frenzy, these
sharks have rather refined table manners.

They swim side by side to get the measure
of each other.

Then each takes its turn.

This female is the biggest, so she eats
first.

The next only feeds when she gives way.

The waters of the Benguela
are so rich, they support more

great white sharks than
any other seas on the planet.

And they are so
cold, they attract some

surprising creatures
to these African shores.

Penguins.

African penguins.

This female is returning to relieve her
partner.

Of course, there's no ice here,
but these rocks can be almost as slippery.

But there are more serious obstacles than
the slippery rocks awaiting them.

It's his turn to feed, so he leaves her to
look after their eggs.

Now she must tackle a problem faced by no
other kind of penguin.

For the next ten days, she must protect
her eggs from the African sun.

A dense coat of feathers that keeps her
warm in cold seas now stifles her.

On these exposed rocks, she must shade her
eggs instead of keeping them warm.

Everything here seems the wrong way round.

For some, the soaring temperature is too
much.

A neighbor deserts his nest.

His egg will not survive.

He's not the only one to give up.

Some years, not a single chick is reared.

Penguins are adapted to withstand
temperatures of 40 degrees below zero.

Not 40 degrees above.

Now, at the hottest part of the day, the
very worst time, her chicks are hatching.

Just when they need her most, she's
reaching the limit of her endurance.

After ten days of
intensive fishing, the chick's

father comes back to
take his turn at the nest.

But will he be too late?

He greets his young for the very first
time.

The girl is now ready to go to the nest.

The coolness of the Benguela current
brought the penguins here.

But that very
coolness is a great

disadvantage because
it generates little rain.

It can, however, produce moisture in a
different form.

A thick blanket of fog rolls in from the
sea and condenses on this thirsty lamb.

And each year, the desert bursts into life
with a dazzling display.

Water is so scarce that this show will not
last long.

So plants compete to attract their
pollinators with color.

Here in Namaqua
land, a 600-mile strip of

coastal desert becomes
carpeted with blooms.

The morning sun opens a Namaqua daisy and
reveals a male monkey beetle asleep inside.

Nights here are so
cold that monkey beetles

shelter within the closed-up
petals of the daisies.

The habit brings benefits to both sides.

The beetle is kept warm and the flower
gets pollinated.

But now the beetle has urgent business.

He must find a mate.

As he searches, he hops from bloom to
bloom, pollinating each in turn.

At last, he spots a potential mate.

A golden princess.

But here comes trouble.

A rival.

There's no time for introductions.

But

he's been too slow.

The rivals immediately begin to brawl.

The female will only mate inside the
daisy.

So they wrestle for possession.

They're so engrossed in fighting,
they've pushed her off.

The challenger is ejected.

The winner wastes no time before getting
back to business.

At last.

Now, there will be a
new generation of monkey

beetles to pollinate these
Namakhmaland flowers.

For most of the year, this land is
desperately dry.

But just occasionally, brief, violent
storms sweep in.

From the cold ocean.

Springbok have been roaming this desert
for many months.

Searching for one of these rare and highly
localized downpours.

The grass is sprouting.

And that is worth celebrating.

If you're a springbok...

that means pronging.

We still don't know exactly why they do
this.

The simplest answer is that they're
dancing for joy.

Africa's most southerly tip.

This is where the two great
ocean currents, the warm

Agulhas and the Gold
Manguela, crash into one another.

And this collision, in itself,
draws in life in abundance.

A superpod of hunting dolphins,
5,000 strong.

And shadowing them.

Because

biggest predator.

A brooder's whale.

This female is 15 meters long.

And weighs more than a whole family of
elephants.

The dolphins are in pursuit of sardines.

Millions of them.

But these cold water
fish are heading towards

an impenetrable
barrier of warm water.

That they will not cross.

The Agulhas current.

They're trapped.

And that gives the whale her chance.

But the sardines are so speedy, that the
whale only catches a few with each pass.

More and more hunters arrive.

The whale needs the
other hunters to push the

fish upwards, forcing
them against the surface.

Now they have nowhere to escape.

With each lumbering turn, she loses
precious time.

Time that favors the more nimble.

The brooder's whale
probably knows that this

opportunity will last
less than five minutes.

And with the last few lunges, she finally
cashes in.

The forces that triggered this
great event have also shaped

the fortunes of life far beyond
this particular battleground.

Without these currents, Southern Africa
would be a desert.

But combined, the very different powers of
the Agulhas and the Benguela have

transformed the Cape into a land where
life can flourish.

The Komoro Islands, off Africa's east
coast, are a haven for green turtles.

Every year, a million turtles hatch on
these beaches.

But the chances of any one of them
surviving is tiny.

Ah!

Ah!

The Africa team came here
to try and capture the dramatic

first few minutes in the
lives of these baby turtles.

It was to be both a technical and
surprisingly emotional challenge.

It's only when you get down on the high
level of the baby turtle that you realize

what an enormous journey it's got to make
down over the beach.

And it really is quite epic.

That's nice.

Oh yeah, that's lovely.

It's using all of these complicated,
heavy bits of equipment which hopefully

will enable us to get into the world of a
turtle which is just a few inches long.

As they break out of all
this soft sand, they hit the

hard sand, and that's where
the real sprint takes place.

They must be desperate
to hit that water because

you can see the seas
just over the horizon.

We're following them all
the way down and you do

kind of get involved with
them and cheering them on.

Okay, slow down a bit.

Slow down.

And then suddenly all these crows come
flocking in and start picking them off.

And you just think, that's just so unfair.

Lots more coming in, just loads coming in
now.

And you've got to fill from them.

You know, it's really quite upsetting.

Particularly when you look
through the camera and I'm

just filling a frame with a
turtle running down the beach.

Then suddenly from nowhere, the beak comes
in and that's it.

That turtle's no more.

The turtles that escape the perils of the
beach still have to face pounding surf.

But at last, they're in their element.

More than can be said for the crew.

They're faster than you, aren't they?

Yep.

It's been embarrassing.

Beaten by something that's less than a day
old.

When we saw hatchlings get
off the beach and see them go

in the white water, you
think they just get obliterated.

They just plunge through the water.

They do get flung around, but then they
just frighten themselves, keep on swimming

and they're ahead of you, coming out the
back of the wave.

And it's amazing.

You're seeing all these baby turtles
getting picked off left, right and centre,

but they just keep going.

They are just so resilient.

And that made what happened next so
distressing.

A particularly high spring tide flooded
the beach.

Any baby turtles still in their nest would
be lucky to survive.

See it bubbling out as well?

Yeah.

Well, it means that basically anything
below that line is going to be gone.

Let's hope and pray it's not, but...

As you say, we don't know.

Let's go and see.

All across the world, turtles are in
decline.

Their eggs are stolen.

The adults are hunted for their flesh.

And they drown in fishing nets.

But here in the Comoros, they have
friends.

It's amazing hearing it, Samir.

It's just a really heartening
story of how the local people

are doing everything they can
to protect sort of what they can.

And what they think of as their turtles.

And some of the baby turtles have survived
the flood tide.

I've already found two baby turtles in the
nest.

One, two, three, four, five.

We followed them in the nest and helped
them get out.

To help this village, we have to protect
the little turtles and the big turtles.

Three.

They're pulling up us.

The whole village comes to help the
hatchlings.

But the most important
effort is to protect the adults

from outsiders who would
hunt them for their meat.

They've taken it upon themselves
to really police the beaches

around here and make sure that
poaching is kept to a minimum.

The selfless protection these people
provide means that this is one of the few

places in the world where turtle numbers
are actually increasing.

And remarkably, here in
Nizamiya, the population

has in fact doubled
in the last decade.

As the shoot was coming to the end,
cameraman Kevin Flay noticed that some of

the turtles that made it through the surf
faced one last danger.

I'm getting shots of
a kite which is flying

down and taking turtles
off the water surface.

That was a part of the story we had to
tell.

The aim is for us to be underwater,
looking straight up as this happens.

And that's actually really quite hard.

Okay, three, two, one.

Undeterred, the crew got into position.

There we go, the kite's up.

You can't see where you're
going because my head's glued to

this viewfinder so I'm banging
into rocks and things like that.

I'm really just trying to keep the turtle
in shot.

Something came in then?

It actually came in and swooped down over
the water's surface.

And you could see the kite from
underwater?

I could see it, I could see the shape.

In frame and you were running?

Yeah.

Didn't take the turtle?

Didn't take the turtle.

Probably that's the best of
both worlds because we got our

lovely underwater shot of a
kite and the turtle gets away.

This lucky hatchling isn't the only one.

With the help of the
village of Itsamia, thousands

more have a chance to
make it to the open ocean.

There's only really
local populations that can

actually support and sustain
this conservation work.

If it comes from the roots upwards then
it's got a chance to survive.

I think it's amazing, I really
do, the fact that they do

this and I wish you see it
more often around the world.

It's hard not to admire
these extraordinary

little creatures as they
battle against such odds.

This baby turtle won't
touch land again until she

returns to the very same
island to lay her own eggs.

With luck, she'll find the beaches still
protected by the people of Itsamia.