All language subtitles for Magical Land Of Oz S01 E03_track3_[eng]

[BARRY HUMPHRIES] As the dawn breaks
across Australia,

the marsupials go to bed.

Except for the ones that don't,

because there are exceptions to
every rule in this land of wonders.

And magic does not have rules.

It has dragons...

..miniature dancers...

..and saltwater monsters.

But as humans invade their realm,
they face a shifting future.

Change has been
particularly rapid here,

despite the relatively small
population.

We travel through bustling cities...

..into an ever-growing
suburban fringe...

..to the remote corners
transformed by industry.

Humans have changed
not just how animals live...

..but which ones thrive...

..in the magical land of Oz.

Humans have walked across Australia
for at least 60,000 years.

By traditional law,

Indigenous Australians tread lightly
on its surface.

The world's longest
continuing culture

has left only very subtle
marks on the landscape.

It is new waves of migration
in the last two centuries

that have introduced
radical transformation

and a very different future
for wildlife.

For some, it's been a boom time.

Surprisingly, people and their chaos
CAN offer opportunities.

In cities such as Melbourne,

close to 5 million people
go about their business...

..as do tens of thousands
of brushtail possums.

In Melbourne in particular,
'possum' is a term of endearment,

as in...
[AS DAME EDNA] "Hello, possum!"

Living alongside humans has helped
the possum population surge.

In the city, they live
a very different life

to their country cousins.

These greedy possums enjoy
an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord

courtesy of Melbourne's tourists.

While food is abundant,
the trees are not.

Indeed, the best trees
are overflowing with possums.

[POSSUMS SCREECH]

With mobs of marsupials
forced together,

each night in the park turns into one
big, angry, raunchy street party.

And no-one uses contraception.

This mother has enough food
to breed continuously...

..and will be raising young
her entire life.

She may have twice as many
offspring as bush brushies.

But her fertility comes at a price.

At just six months,

her eldest joey needs to make space
for younger siblings.

As a city dweller, he's forced out
at a much younger age.

And with the park's few trees
so heavily defended...

..he can't find a safe place to rest.

Like many young possums
born into this park,

he takes a huge risk.

In search of a place to call home...

..he heads into the human chaos.

Most possums leaving their home range
won't survive.

Only one in five young males
will make it.

When he finds his way off the roads,

it's the cats
he has to watch out for.

More possums live in Melbourne's
roofs than in its trees.

A shed roof
offers him an opportunity.

It's the ultimate jackpot
for a homeless possum.

A sanctuary
with much less competition.

Plus there's a friendly human face.

Most people don't want
to share their world with possums.

Nature can be an inconvenience
in this new landscape we're building.

And yet, apparently, a world
that's good for plants and animals

is also good for us.

[ENGINE ROARS]

Even a patch of suburban garden

is enough for Australia's native
animals to make their magic.

In the undergrowth,

peacock spiders sense their world
through vibrations.

It's how they hunt,
find mates and avoid predators.

But the pandemonium of humans

makes sensing vibrations
more complicated.

This male peacock spider
has superb eyesight,

which helps him find
what he's searching for.

A female peacock spider.

To convince her to mate,
he relies on a series of vibrations

known scientifically
as rumble-rumps.

Sensing his movement
through her legs,

she is looking for a suitor
with soothing, even vibrations.

Anything muddled or intermittent
is unacceptable.

[LAWNMOWER ENGINE RUMBLES]
Oh, drat!

A lawnmower.

Fortunately, he has another trick

designed to distract her
from all else in the garden.

Gaze locked, the enchantment begins.

She sees his dance
in ultraviolet splendour.

His choreography becomes
increasingly vigorous and grandiose.

But she's not easily seduced.

A rival suitor muscles in
to try his luck.

She strikes in less than
a tenth of a second

and injects a lethal dose of venom
in his brain!

The rival is now not a mate...

..but a meal.

Undeterred, our suitor once more
steps into the line of fire.

He must mesmerise...

..or die.

At touching distance,

he gears up for a final flourish.

A mistake will cost him his life.

The pair will mate
for around 10 minutes.

While his front legs
rotate her abdomen into position,

he gathers his sperm and passes it
to her reproductive organs.

This rather picky female behaviour

has led to strong selection
for increasingly complex courtship.

By having both vibration cues

and visual cues to seduce her,

peacock courtship can succeed in
the noisiest and busiest of gardens.

In backyards across Australia,

different species of peacock spiders
are dancing in the undergrowth.

The more flexible creatures are
about where and how they live,

the better they will do
in our cities.

But flexibility
only takes you so far.

Sometimes you simply have to change
with your environment.

In central Brisbane, dotted between
the freeways and the skyscrapers,

there are islands of green space.

In fact, Brisbane has more species
of plants, animals and insects

than any other capital in Australia.

But it's the city's
cold-blooded residents

that are so famously abundant.

And here in the city,

they're demonstrating evolution
in overdrive.

Meet Brisbane's
most successful native -

the eastern water dragon.

For this young buck,

the only world he's ever known
is this inner city park.

He's also learnt to share it
with plenty of non-dragons.

[GIGGLES]

Like a...

Circled by roads,
this dragon can't safely leave.

He is marooned
in a man-made ecosystem.

And it's very different
to his natural world,

from the park's size
and its surfaces...

..to its prey and predators.

[DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE]

This dragon population is evolving
to survive in this new world,

right before our eyes.

They have become
metropolitan dragons -

not just with a lifestyle change

but genetically distinct
from their wild cousins.

This male's ancestors were here

long before the city
developed around them.

But in many ways, this modern dragon
generation has things easier.

Like staff
who do the digging for you.

A bee-flavoured fun park.

And water features.

A fair replacement
for his natural creek habitats.

With abundant food too
and few natural predators,

the city's park populations
have soared.

He lives amongst the highest density
of water dragons on the planet,

which means good communication
is essential to social harmony.

Well, if you speak dragon,

a raised arm, a tail slap
or a tilt of the head

all communicate pecking order.

With his chest turning a deep red,

it's obvious he's now coming of age
and needs to assert his dominance.

But it's hard to get ahead in a city
of strong, attractive males.

The current ruler of this territory
is intolerant of young upstarts.

[HISSES]

The crowd watch on.

Can he hold his own?

The females have seen it all before.

Now vanquished,
he retreats to the backbench.

At least the gardeners
are sympathetic.

Given the competition in this park,
he may never mate.

The dragons have now grown twice
the size of their wild relatives,

with males now reaching
over a kilogram.

And without their usual trees
to climb,

limbs are getting longer
and claws less defined.

Their behaviour has altered too.

In the wild, water dragons
are timid towards people,

but in Brisbane they won't move
for mere humans.

These dashing dragons are Australia's
most surprising example

of rapid evolution...

..driven almost entirely
by the changing environment.

Change which shows no signs of
slowing down in the 21st century.

Sydney is Australia's
most populous city...

..with 280 new human arrivals
every day.

Most of them sun worshippers.

As night falls,
the beach crowd thins.

[SEAGULLS SQUAWK]

The stage is set for
the next shift of beachgoers...

..the secretive red fox.

This fast-breeding feral predator

was born in this Sydney
beachside suburb...

..and every night
its sands are hers to enjoy.

Shared with
the late-night revellers...

..it's a carefree life for this fox.

And her siblings.

[FOXES CALL]

They can play without fear,

as they are now Australia's
most prevalent apex predator,

both beautiful and devastating.

Imported from England in the
mid-1800s for the sport of hunting,

they shoulder the blame
for Australia's appalling record

of mammal extinctions.

It's estimated there are now close
to 7 million foxes in Australia.

Around midnight,
the foxes give up their play

and head out
for their nightly rounds.

Humans are generous
with what they leave behind.

The female has a 5km radius
that she patrols.

From the beach
to its neighbouring streets,

visiting all the spots
she knows might yield rewards.

[CAR ALARM WAILS]

While most residents sleep,
the town is hers.

[CAR ALARM RESET CHIRPS]

Her hearing so acute, she can
detect snoring three houses away.

She moves silently like a cat.

She will even steal
from her canine cousins.

She returns to the beach for one
happy reunion before the sun rises.

Their night is rubbed out...

..and the beach
belongs to humans again.

While most Australians have
made their home by the water...

..with 85% of the population within
picnicking distance of the coast,

their larger human footprint extends
well into the continent's interior.

In the remote deserts
of Western Australia,

mining industries have set up shop.

24 hours a day, seven days a week,

machines dig in the search for gold.

To find just one ounce of gold,

mountains of earth must be moved.

It's the hottest,
harshest part of the country...

..and human activity out here
draws in curious creatures.

Creatures such as the dingo.

Amid the noise and the machinery
live several distinct packs.

[DINGOS HOWL]

This alpha pair and their offspring
lay a claim to a shale heap

which overlooks the mine site.

Here, in a man-made,
mechanised oasis,

they enjoy the luxuries of water
and shade...

..and are both in very short supply
on the plains beyond.

But luxury comes at a cost.

This mine is no off-lead dog park.

[YELPS]

The adults head out to forage

before the heat of the day
becomes too intense,

leaving the youngsters behind.

They follow reliable tracks
across the mine.

The offerings are meagre
and they'll take what they can get,

sometimes travelling up to 20km a day
in search of food.

The isolation of this great desert
has protected these dingoes

from breeding with domestic dogs.

The pack leader surveys the desert

as his ancestors have done
for thousands of years.

He is a father to some of the last,
precious purebred dingoes.

As the day heats up,

the family members who have
stayed behind in the mine

stick close to their waterhole...

..watched over
by a patient older sibling.

This is the hottest
part of the country

and it may be months
before rain falls again.

The waste water from the mine creates
an oasis for all desert creatures...

..providing new foraging
opportunities for their family.

The young dingoes
dine on worms and scraps.

No feast perhaps,
but vital protein in the desert.

Now it's time to explore.

The pack expend energy,

knowing that when they overheat

there's plenty of water
to cool down again.

But one pup
has got itself into trouble.

The thick plastic lining
offers no grip.

He struggles...

..and tires.

[DINGO YELPS]

But an older sibling
seems to catch his eye,

guiding him to an exit point.

Another lesson learnt.

[TRUCK ENGINES ROAR]

It might be a bit dangerous living
amongst humans and their machinery,

but generations of dingoes
have made the mine their own.

And from the rubble,
they emerge younger still.

The newest generation is
sneaking out from their hidey-hole.

Dingoes normally dig a den
for their young,

but here they have
man-made structures.

Relatively safe from the trucks
rumbling past day and night.

These pups are guarded by an older
sister while their parents hunt.

But they're getting hungry,
impatient for Mum to return.

The desert daytrippers are on their
way back to the rest of the pack.

And their family members
are on the lookout for them.

[DINGOES CALL]

This reunion at the end of the day
is an important part of pack life...

..reinforcing the family bonds.

These animals have learnt to live

among the infrastructure
pounding around them

and to use it to their advantage.

Dingoes should have a much better
chance of survival here

than on the arid plains.

[DINGO HOWLS]

It's no picture book, perhaps,

but for these dingoes it's
as comfortable as life will get

in this desert environment.

Most man-made structures do not
benefit Australia's wildlife -

instead they add to the perils
animals confront

in these harsh landscapes.

Like the networks of supply lines

ferrying the desert's offerings
to cities and ports.

[THUNDER BOOMS]

With little warning,
storms sweep in from the sea,

bringing flood rains
to the Great Northern Highway

that crosses Western Australia...

..triggering magical events,

like blooms of fish
in the desert's heart.

Yellowtail grunters
wait out the dry season

in small, ever-decreasing pools.

With these flash floods
comes an opportunity

to disperse further
into the Great Sandy Desert.

If they can cross the road.

Nobody knows what motivates them
to make this perilous journey...

..or where their destination lies.

It appears that they're using
the bridging rains

to expand their territory,
driven by instinct.

But exposed on the tarmac,

the fish are helpless
against an aerial attack.

Terns, which have flown to this
desert from as far as Siberia,

are welcomed with
fresh hors d'oeuvres...

..served on a tarmac platter.

They feast for hours as the offerings
just keep on coming...

..only stopping for the trucks
to power through...

..sluicing the grunters
back to where they started.

What chance for a little fish?

[TERNS CALL]

But every now and then,
a grunter defies the odds...

..joining a slippery battalion
who make it through.

This year, the grunters
extend their frontier

further into the desert.

Australia's wildlife has evolved

to deal with the country's
erratic weather patterns.

But now the climate itself
is changing,

more dramatically here than
in any other part of the world,

and animals are struggling to cope.

In the farmlands
of northern New South Wales,

summers are getting tougher,

hot days more frequent,
droughts longer.

The Liverpool Plains boast some of
the continent's most fertile soil.

Swathes have been cleared to make way
for grazing animals and crops.

Around 90% of the native vegetation
is gone.

In a gum tree
which still stands proud,

a marsupial lays her body
against the cool of a branch.

The tree's trunk is five degrees
lower than the air temperature

and will keep her from overheating.

The koala relies on these eucalypts
for all she needs to survive.

Its tough waxy leaves,
toxic to most animals,

provide her only source of food.

The eucalypt even hydrates
this super-specialist

by giving her no reason to leave
the safety of this tree.

Or so it was thought.

Cattle farmer Rob Frend
has lived on this land

for the best part of 70 years.

Today, as he surveys his paddocks,

he finds a lifeless body at the base
of a seemingly healthy tree.

In the last major heatwave, 25% of
the region's koala population died.

As the climate changes
and temperatures increase,

it seems the chemical content
of eucalyptus leaves

is changing too,

losing its ability
to hydrate these marsupials.

A shift too subtle for the human eye,
but critical for the koala.

Rob can't bear to see them go

and is motivated to try something,
on his own farm at least.

[GALAHS SQUAWK]

He fits a drinking trough
to a tree on his property.

He positions an infra-red camera

set to trigger
at the slightest movement.

The farmer will monitor
his watering station

to learn if his resident koalas

are needing more than their trees
can now naturally supply.

But when the cameras
spring into action,

it's not koalas alone they capture.

Birds fight for space.

Swarms of bees threaten
to drink the water dry.

After nightfall, nocturnal drinkers
are no less varied.

Thirsty tree frogs come to bathe.

Then something completely unexpected.

First possums and then an exquisite
family of sugar gliders appears.

The daintiest and most acrobatic
of Australia's gliders

are nesting in nearby tree hollows...

..and launching themselves 50 metres
between eucalypt groves...

..to land with pinpoint accuracy.

And then at last...

..a koala.

Drinking deeply,
quenching his thirst -

something the eucalypt seems
no longer able to do for him

in times of drought.

Over the days, the camera captures
koalas drinking time and time again.

Sometimes they sip for hours.

They are thirsty koalas.

On Rob's land,
the koalas are now healthier.

There are even tiny signs
of a renewal.

Rob is working with Sydney University

to create meaningful data
about his koalas.

But he can't shift the predictions
facing their species.

In New South Wales, koalas are
on track for extinction by 2050.

In just over 200 years
since European colonisation,

40% of Australian forests
have been cleared.

Despite all we know
about the critical importance

of old-growth trees,

land clearing
shows no sign of slowing.

Add to this
the impact of climate change,

and Australia's wildlife is facing
a perfect storm of challenges.

Unable to adapt fast enough,
we may face a future without them.

To turn the koala story around,

we will require
a national recovery plan -

one that recognises the value
of a single, incomparable species.

But Australia is capable
of such a thing.

In Victoria, people have done
something very unusual...

..accommodating vulnerable animals
at the expense of humans.

Phillip Island, south-east Victoria.

Just a day trip from Melbourne

and one of the city's
most popular holiday spots.

The island's shores
tumble into Bass Strait,

where the aptly named little penguin,

the world's smallest,

spends 80% of its time.

Despite being only 30cm long,

it moves through the water
like a tiny torpedo.

[PENGUINS CHATTER]

After dark,
the penguin hit the shore,

leaving their elegance behind them.

And yet these
tough little birds have,

for thousands of years,

battled the rocks here
to reach their breeding grounds.

It's only in the past hundred years

that their journey has been lit
by more than stars.

Human development on the island

has turned their remote home into
a baffling and dangerous puzzle.

The population
looked set for extinction

until a bold decision was made...

..to make this a penguin housing
estate at the cost of the human one.

Given a chance, little penguins
are enthusiastic breeders.

This hill above Summerland Beach

is where penguins have
long dug their nests.

Females lay two eggs at least
once a year.

Sometimes twice.

But only if fishing is good

and penguins are protected
while nesting -

which is now the case,

after pioneering conservation efforts
have been put in place

to keep the little nesting birds
safe from harm's way.

Over the past 25 years,
human residents have been moved out

to make way for penguins.

180 holiday homes
have been carted away.

With them go the cars, the people...

..the cats and the dogs

which took this colony
to the edge of collapse.

Now the sound
and the pungent aroma of penguin

dominates the landscape once again.

[SNIFFS] Mmm!

The little penguin population
on Phillip Island

has tripled since the 1980s,

now at just over 32,000 birds.

But humans aren't quite
out of the picture.

In fact, they are now being
invited back as paying customers.

The tourist trade
funds the conservation drive

with 700,000 carefully controlled
visitors a year.

Humans might outnumber penguins
but the tables are turned.

Finally, people are here
on nature's terms.

The little penguins on Phillip Island
are a conservation success story.

An example of how species
CAN be protected.

Across Australia,
few places remain untouched.

Wildlife is feeling the impact
of the modern human-dominated world.

Animals must adapt
to the new normal.

In the cities,
wildlife must now navigate roads,

cars and people.

Some are changing the course
of their evolution.

And while some have
taken advantage of change,

too many are disappearing
to make way for human expansion.

Australia is among the seven nations

responsible for more than half
of the world's biodiversity loss

in the last few decades.

Which leaves us with a choice -

carry on as we are
until there's no turning back

or start designing a new future

which places animals and ecosystems
in the picture.

We have the opportunity, we have
the land, we have the resources,

but not forever.