All language subtitles for Africas Hidden Kingdoms Series 1 5of6 De Hoop Place of Hope 1080p

At the southern tip
of the African continent,

a tiny refuge
making a huge impact.

A concentration of life.

Its varied habitats
offering a sanctuary

to some of the biggest animals
on the planet -

And some of the smallest.

It's a story
of beating the odds,

of species coming back
from the edge of extinction

to reclaim their place
in Africa's wilderness.

This is De Hoop:

Place of Hope.

Daybreak
over the De Hoop Nature Reserve.

The morning mist reveals
a herd of unique antelope.

These are Bontebok,

an Afrikaans name referring
to their contrasting

dark and white coats.

The dew saturates the coastal
succulent vegetation,

supplying the Bontebok
with all the water they need.

It's a tranquil scene,

and the antelope are calm

and focused
on their morning feed.

But their presence here
is a triumph of conservation.

Less than a century ago,

relentless hunting had left
no more than 20 Bontebok

in the world.

But they were saved
by a peculiar quirk.

Bontebok cannot jump.

Herded into fenced camps
by concerned landowners,

and unable to escape
by jumping over the fences,

Bontebok numbers
slowly recovered.

It was the start of a trend
that transformed

this small part of the world

into a conservation zone
for nearly-extinct animals.

In 1957,

the De Hoop Nature Reserve
was set up

as an experimental
wildlife protection area

where rare and endangered
species could be nurtured

and their numbers
brought back from the brink

to repopulate surrounding areas.

Now a part
of a World Heritage Site

and with an important Marine
Protected Area off its coast,

De Hoop is a beacon of
conservation in Southern Africa

and a haven
for vulnerable species.

Today, Bontebok numbers
have swelled to almost 4 000.

And other species
have found hope for survival.

De Hoop contains a number
of habitats in one small area -

from the coastal rocky shores

to lowland Fynbos

and pristine wetlands.

But its protection
doesn't end at the shoreline.

The bay is an internationally
renowned sanctuary

for some iconic marine giants.

Southern right whales,

once hunted to near extinction,
migrate here to calve.

Two vulnerable species,

the Cape vulture
and the Cape mountain zebra,

are slowly gaining back
lost ground.

In the numbers game

that underpins
the survival of a species,

this small reserve
is making a big difference.

Covering just 140 square miles,

the De Hoop Nature Reserve

could fit into
Yellowstone Park 25 times.

And yet, despite its size,

it is packed with life,

offering a home
to hundreds of species.

Part of this abundance

is thanks
to the concentration of habitats

found in De Hoop,

a factor
of its unique geography.

South of the reserve,

the Heuningnesrivier,
or Honey Nest River,

flows into the sea at De Mond.

This river sweeps vast amounts
of sand into the ocean,

which the sea
then pushes back onshore,

creating
majestic beaches and dunes.

To the east,
the coastline becomes rocky.

Soft sandstone,

carved over millennia
by the ocean and the weather,

creates a dramatic landscape.

Here, flat rock platforms

provide ideal hunting grounds
for shore birds,

while rock pools give shelter
to a variety of marine species.

Inland,
flat pastures of succulents

and large expanses of low bush

provide food and shelter
for many of De Hoop's residents.

Ocean,

rocky shores,

dunes,

lakes,

bush

and open pasture -

all packed into an area that
extends just 10 miles inland.

A thin band of sanctuary,

offering hope to
all the species that live here.

As morning comes to De Hoop,

the park's majestic giant
seeks out its favorite pastures.

The Common eland,

the second biggest antelope
in the world.

Eland are huge.

They can weigh close to a ton

and stand
6 feet at the shoulder.

For the indigenous
hunter-gatherers

of Southern Africa,

they were a potent symbol
of abundance and strength.

The San people
immortalized the eland

in many of their rock paintings

and religious ceremonies,

and it was an essential part

of their coming of age

and shamanistic
trance dance rituals.

They are slow giants.

Even when startled,

they can barely reach
a peak of 25 miles per hour,

and they tire easily.

What they lack in speed,
however,

they make up in strength.

When threatened,

an eland can leap 10 feet
from a standing position.

Eland are nomads,

and have adapted
to many of Africa's

challenging
and diverse environments,

helped in part
by an incredible ability

to survive on almost no water.

They are sociable animals,

forming large herds
without being territorial,

and they are content
to graze near other species.

But among themselves,

hierarchies
still need to be maintained.

This large bull

asserts himself through an
extraordinary adaptation

of his physiology:

knee clicking.

The unusual sound

is made by tendons slipping over
the bones in his front knees.

The tendon
vibrates like a string.

The sound it produces presents a
clear picture of his size

and potential fighting
capabilities to any challengers.

The bigger and stronger
an adult bull,

the deeper and more imposing
his knee-clicks.

Eland are browsers,

nibbling juicy shoots and leaves
off small trees and bushes.

But a feast like this
comes at a price.

As the antelope presses against
trees and bushes,

ticks are brushed off onto him,

burrowing into his hair
and latching onto his back

for a tasty blood meal.

Once a tick attaches

the eland won't feel it
growing fat on its blood.

But other irritants

lie frustratingly just out of
reach of his teeth or tongue.

Luckily,
he has two very useful tools:

his long,
elegant back-scratchers.

The eland's spiral horns

are a throwback
to an ancient Asian ancestor

that had four horns.

Over time,
the two pairs fused together,

intertwining into the corkscrew
we see today.

Still, there are only
so many spots he can reach.

And mercifully,
he has help on board.

Cattle egrets
are a species of heron.

They get their name

from their behavior of traveling
on or near large grazers

such as cattle,
antelope and zebra.

Moving with the herd
means access

to an endless supply
of juicy ticks.

Still, scoring dinner
can be a challenge.

Their moving dinner table

comes with heavy hooves
and swishing tails.

A slow, blood-filled tick
is a treat for an egret.

But this opportunistic feeder
is here for a bigger bonanza:

insects, spiders,
frogs and worms

that are churned up in the soil

as the herds
tug up tussocks to eat.

Following browsers and grazers

offers big rewards
for little effort.

Parasites don't only affect
the park's big antelope.

They'll latch onto any
large animal that's passing by.

In this case, the largest bird
in the world: the Ostrich.

A young male
enjoys a satisfying dust bath,

getting rid
of clinging parasites

and stripping excess oil
off his feathers.

He's not alone for long.

It's his mate, wanting her own
quality time in the bath.

They lie on the ground,
swaying from side to side,

with their wings spread wide
for maximum coverage.

A good dust bowl
is a valuable commodity.

While two is company
in this bath,

three is definitely a crowd.

The tallest
and heaviest living bird,

male Ostriches
can tower at almost 10 feet

and weigh up to 330 pounds.

Their giant size
makes flight impossible.

But they have adapted by
becoming extremely fast runners.

Long, powerful legs

allow Ostriches to sprint
at up to 43 miles an hour,

with strides
of more than 10 feet.

Elite sprinters
need special footwear,

and Ostrich are no different.

Most birds have three
or even four toes on each foot,

but the Ostrich has only two.

The inner toes are tipped
with long, curving claws

that dig into the ground like
spikes on a sprinter's shoe.

This claw is also used
for self-defense.

High up above them,
as the sun gathers strength

and the day heats up,

a fleeting glimpse

of one of De Hoop's
greatest conservation successes.

The Cape vulture.

One of the biggest vultures
in Africa,

its wingspan
measures up to 8 feet.

Some 200
of these reclusive scavengers

have made their home

in the Potberg Mountains
that border De Hoop,

comprising the last remaining
colony in this area.

Over the years,
their numbers have plunged

plunged due to loss of habitat,
power lines, and poison

from carcasses
left out by farmers

to kill other scavengers
like jackals.

By the 1970s,

just 30 vultures
remained alive in this area.

But thanks to a shift in the
attitudes of local farmers,

and the sanctuary
offered by De Hoop,

the number of these elusive
scavengers continues to climb.

The park provides a haven
for many bird species,

but the region as a whole

is also an essential habitat
for bird life.

Beyond the western boundary
of the park,

Greater flamingos
use this estuary to feed,

preparing themselves
for their migrations northwards

after the rainy season.

When the time comes,
they will fly the 600 miles

to blooming deserts
in Namibia and Botswana.

If the rains have been good,
they will breed there.

If not, they will come
all the way back to this region.

The flamingos are tucking in.

They are filter feeders, and
here they have plenty to eat.

The sand flats
in the wetlands near De Hoop

are full of microscopic
algae and bacteria,

organic matter that clings
to individual grains of sand.

It's also a feast
for these Globular mud snails.

The algae and bacteria

make the sediment
particularly rich

in small crustaceans
and marine worms -

and the flamingos
are taking full advantage.

They're on the move,

sieving through the sediment
for the tastiest morsels.

When they find
a particularly good spot,

they will work it over
thoroughly,

slowly pivoting around
in a circle

to dig through the sediment.

As the tide retreats,

their circular excavations
leave behind

a neat bit of landscaping:

a small island, briefly wrestled
over by a pair of Hermit crabs.

In the west,
the shore is a sandy expanse,

but just a few miles away
on the eastern edge of the park,

this is a transformed coast.

This is a harsher,
more demanding environment,

where waves break
on a rugged and rocky shore.

It seems inhospitable to all

except for the toughest
limpets and mussels.

But for this bird, it's perfect.

The African black oystercatcher

is another living symbol
of the success of De Hoop.

Found only in southern Africa,

its numbers had fallen to below
5 000 by the early 1980s.

African black oystercatchers
build their nests on the ground,

which makes them
extremely vulnerable.

From marauding pets
to off-road vehicles,

encroaching human activity

almost doomed this charismatic
resident of the rocky shore.

But protected coasts like this

offer a safe space
to these birds.

Still, life here isn't easy.

The oystercatcher

is restricted to a narrow
and dangerous strip of land -

the intertidal zone.

Surviving here,
avoiding pounding waves,

takes speed and skill.

It feeds at low tide

when the shellfish on
these rocks have been exposed.

A specially adapted bill
and powerful neck muscles

allow it
to grab a mussel quickly

and to tear it free
from its mooring of fibers.

A speedy getaway is essential.

The waves here are powerful,

and even a fraction of a second
could prove costly to a bird

caught in the surging breakers.

Safe from the ocean,
it gets to work on its catch.

His mate
has also been successful:

she's jabbed
a limpet off its rock

and is carving out its soft meat
with her bill.

It's hard, tiring work,
and to sustain themselves,

adult birds
need to crack open and eat

scores of these armored morsels.

With plentiful food and a
protected park around them,

De Hoop's
oystercatchers are thriving,

swelling the numbers
of this threatened species.

As the tide comes in,
the oystercatchers retreat.

The birds have to wait for
the next low tide to eat again.

But for other inhabitants
of the De Hoop coast,

it's feeding time.

A marine protected area,
declared in 1986,

extends for 3 miles
into the ocean off De Hoop.

This allows fish species to
thrive here, close to the coast,

largely untouched
by overfishing in this ocean.

At high tide,
many species of native fish

move into the shallow water
to feed.

And as the rock pools
fill up with marine life,

they become
an ideal hunting ground

for one of this coast's
most cunning predators:

the octopus.

This highly intelligent animal
preys on crabs and rock lobster.

He moves easily
between land and sea,

searching for snacks
between the rocks.

De Hoop is full
of conservation success stories.

Out in the bay, the star of
De Hoop's Marine Protected Area

is coming home to breed.

The Southern right whale.

One of the rarest of all
the planet's large whales.

These giants
have completed a long journey,

leaving behind
their feeding grounds

in the icy waters
off Antarctica,

and journeying north
to the milder coasts

of South America,
Australia and Africa.

They've come here,
to this protected coast,

to mate and to breed,

as part of the largest gathering
of their species

in the southern hemisphere.

Half of all Southern right
calves born in Africa

are born at De Hoop.

They are priceless treasures,

a new generation

inching this species away
from the threat of annihilation

that loomed over it
just 80 years ago.

Their name
reveals their grim history.

Whalers named them
"right whales"

because they were targeted
as the right whales to hunt.

These docile and intelligent
animals were obvious targets

and their high fat content
made them an easy haul

as they floated
after being harpooned.

For over 200 years

they were slaughtered
on an industrial scale,

and by 1935, when they became
officially protected,

fewer than 2 000
remained alive on the planet.

But determined
conservation efforts

have now begun to pay off.

Today,
the population is estimated

to be around 7 000 individuals
in the southern oceans,

and this figure
is doubling about every decade.

The dunes of De Hoop

form a barrier
between the ocean and the land,

but this barrier is
far more mobile than it looks.

Huge volumes of sand
brought down by rivers

and then dumped onto the shore
by the ocean

are swept up these slopes.

Abrasive and always in flux,

it's a tough environment
for life;

But some species
have made a home here.

A Cape legless skink
is in his element,

living and feeding
under the sand.

On the plain,
the park's iconic species

has adapted
to a more forgiving habitat.

These Bontebok

are starting to get down
to the important business

of the survival of the species.

It's mating season,
and sprits are high.

This female is ready to breed,

and the males are starting
to show off for her.

A young male sprints
through a neighbor's territory,

displaying his prowess.

He's been noticed
by the females,

but he's also been seen
by the resident male.

It's a deliberate provocation

to the established male's
dominance,

and it can't go unchallenged.

Bontebok showdowns are usually
more about displaying bravado

than locking horns.

But sometimes
exceptions have to be made,

and young pretenders
need to be put in their place.

It's a test of strength
rather than a duel to the death.

Their horns are for wrestling,
not stabbing.

The bout is over.

The challenger
has been put in his place,

and plods away
to try his luck

with a less experienced
sparring partner.

The winner
has secured his territory,

and with it,
the females of his harem.

Despite his victory,
courting is still required.

He approaches the female,

nose outstretched,
head low and tail lifted -

a Bontebok proposal.

If she is impressed,
she will allow him to sniff her

to see if she's ready to mate.

Their courting
is a delicate ritual of advance

and retreat.

This male is so intrigued
by his potential mate

that another opportunistic
suitor has snuck in unseen.

He escorts the newcomer
off the premises.

At the edge of the pasture,
a flash of black and white.

But these
are no ordinary zebras.

These are Cape mountain zebra.

Found only in South Africa

they are another
De Hoop success story.

Great climbers, with hard,
pointed hooves

perfectly adapted
to walking on rocky slopes,

they generally live
in mountainous regions

up to six and a half thousand
feet above sea level.

But their need
for a rich variety of grazing

and plentiful water

put them in direct competition
with humans.

By the 1950s there were fewer
than 100 zebras left alive.

Now, thanks to national parks
and reserves such as De Hoop,

the current global population
of Cape mountain zebra

is estimated to be around 1 500.

There is hope
that De Hoop's zebras

will in future be able
to swell herds beyond the park.

De Hoop is a sanctuary,

and the larger species
that thrive here

are free from predators.

But down under their hooves,
another world exists

where small but lethal hunters
stalk their prey.

A baby Cape cobra
ventures out from his shelter,

a prince in waiting.

First, though,

it will have to grow to its
full length of almost 5 feet,

shedding its skin as it grows.

While he's still small,
dangers are all around.

As an adult he will be treated
with much more respect,

feared as one of Africa's
most dangerous snakes.

Now, though,
he needs to avoid being trampled

by the park's bigger residents.

When it comes to poison,
however,

size doesn't always
equal danger.

An endangered
Cape burrowing scorpion

on high alert.

It's getting ready to
defend itself from an intruder.

Fearsome-looking stingers
stab and parry like swords,

but although they can land
a vicious strike,

these are not very poisonous.

Scorpions have two weapons:

their venomous stinger,
and their claws.

Less poisonous scorpions need
two bigger, stronger claws

to kill their prey
and see off rivals.

The Black creeping scorpion
looks deadly,

but its massive claws reveal
that its sting

is probably relatively mild.

A passing wood louse shows

scant respect
for the armored beast.

The soil of De Hoop
is largely sandy and chalky,

and yet this nutrient-poor soil
is a perfect home

for one of the planet's
most threatened

and diverse plant realms.

The planet is divided into six
so-called floristic kingdoms,

areas in which similar
plant species tend to grow.

The Cape floral kingdom
is not only the smallest,

but it's also the most diverse:

3% of all the planet's
plant species,

growing in an area the size of
the US state of Maine.

Comprising 80% of this
diverse plant life is Fynbos.

This is not a single species
but rather a type of vegetation

encompassing
a variety of species.

Moving through this world
of flowers, a tiny hunter.

A Flower mantis waits patiently
for a passing victim.

One of the reserve's
smallest creatures

is connected to its biggest.

Like the eland,

revered as a deity by the San
hunters of Southern Africa.

The mantis was the San people's
supreme god,

the trickster deity "/Kaggen".

It was believed that it was
/Kaggen who created the eland.

Success - but he's bitten off
more than he can chew.

The caterpillar is inedible,

protected
by a chemical secretion.

Down below, another possible
meal scuttles nearer.

A juicy cockroach.

But the mantis knows that this,
too, is off the menu.

The cockroach shoots out
a highly toxic fluid

when threatened.

Largely untouched by predators,

it has free reign
over this scrubby wilderness.

It's time for the mantis
to find a better hunting spot.

Soon, another quarry
comes into range.

Camouflaged on its flower,

the mantis lets the wind

nudge it
closer and closer to its victim

A hearty meal for a small
but ferocious predator.

In the afternoon the mythical
creations of the mantis god

are on the move,
looking for fresh pastures.

It's a stately caravan,

and a couple of Ostriches
have joined in.

Young eland
tend to stay together,

forming an informal nursery
at the rear of the procession.

Another generation of eland,

growing up in safety,
their futures secure.

Nearby, living symbols
of the success of De Hoop:

a Bontebok cow and her calf.

For now, she is entirely
dependent on her mother,

but after a year,

she will move away from her
herd, striking out on her own

to join another group
and start her own family

in one of the world's
greatest conservation stories.

Dusk falls on the southern tip
of the African continent.

The eland and Bontebok
are settling down for the night.

Out in the bay, baby whales
press close to their mothers.

Tomorrow
it will all begin again:

a new day
in a place offering new hope.