All language subtitles for Wonders of the Monsoon 4of5 Strange Castaways

The monsoon...

..the greatest weather system
on Earth.

Giver of life...

and the destroyer.

Shaping magical lands

from the Himalayas to Australia.

Its impact felt by giants...

..the exquisite...

and the bizarre -

where spectacular nature meets
the planet's most vibrant cultures.

Now, we journey into the tropical
heart of the monsoon.

A place of remote islands...

where the monsoon collides
with the fires of the underworld...

..creating homes for some of
the most wondrous and peculiar

species on the planet.

Sulawesi, a lush island,
straddling the equator.

Deep in the forest,
there's a new arrival.

He is a crested black macaque.

And he is growing up
in an unusual family.

Crested black macaques like to live
in extraordinary large groups,

sometimes numbering over 100.

But what sets them apart
is their character...

..something that's intimately
connected to their home.

Crested black macaques live only
in northern Sulawesi,

in rich forests that sit directly
in the path of the monsoon.

Torrential rains batter
the forest for months on end.

But it is thanks to these
monsoon rains

that this baby will develop
behaviours

which, more than other monkeys,
we might recognise in ourselves.

But first, the youngsters
have a lot to learn.

Starting with the monkey basics -

like perfecting their climbing
techniques.

But most important for
the crested black macaque

is to learn their code
of etiquette.

Lip smacking is a request
for a hug,

showing a desire to be friends.

Blowing kisses and sharing cuddles

is not only reserved
for close family.

Anyone in the troop can join in.

They are amongst the most
affectionate monkeys on the planet.

One reason is that
with the coming of each monsoon,

the forest presents a banquet.

Over 100 varieties of fruit.

There is more than enough
to go round.

So much that they
don't need to fight over it.

Instead, they put their energy
into the good things in life -

friendships
and exploring their forest home.

A discovery draws them all close.

A tiny casualty
on the forest floor.

Sometimes, their sensitive behaviour
can seem touchingly human.

The monkeys' character is a result

of the riches
that the monsoon brings -

life with abundant food.

But in these islands, the effects
of this great weather system

are not always so benevolent.

Like a giant letter K,

Sulawesi sits at the epicentre
of the monsoon region.

Lying to the south-east is
Australia

and far to the northwest
is continental Asia.

For much of the year, it seems that
Sulawesi is swamped in cloud.

But there is an annual rhythm.

From December, moist winds blow
from Asia,

bringing very heavy rain
from the north.

Then from June,
they blow from Australia,

bringing more rains
from the south.

So most islands
between the two continents

get monsoon rain not just once,
but twice a year.

It's November. The monsoon winds are
about to change again.

It's a race against time for another
of Sulawesi's unique residents.

BIRD CRIES

A maleo.

They are normally
creatures of the forest.

But once a year,
they hit the beach.

It's breeding season.

But instead of spending
all that time sitting on a nest,

maleos use solar power...

..burying the eggs in sand
warmed by the sun.

So eggs can only be laid
between monsoons.

And there is not much time left.

One couple has secured a prime spot.

Away from the water and
safe from the coming storms.

But two late arrivals spell trouble.

The early birds have to dig fast.

But their new neighbours
make the job twice as hard.

It's frustrating work.

At last, the hole is deep
enough for her to lay.

A maleo's egg is five times
larger than a hen's.

It must provide enough energy
for the chick to grow quickly,

fight to the surface

and survive the oncoming monsoon.

Job done.

But is it too late?

As the monsoon clouds arrive,
beach temperatures will plummet.

The latecomers may have
lost the race against time here.

But Sulawesi's maleos
don't rely on solar power alone.

Deep in the forest,
the ground stirs.

Hatched from an egg buried
a metre deep...

..a maleo chick.

His parents had an ingenious way
to beat the monsoon.

They've discovered
underfloor heating.

Sulawesi is pocked with hot springs.

Water, superheated by
several hundred degrees,

rises up from deep fissures
in the Earth.

The island,
and hundreds of its neighbours,

sit above great cracks
in the Earth's mantle,

and the consequences
are explosive.

It's part of what is known
as the Ring of Fire.

Five tectonic plates
shifting below the sea

in continual collision,

creating island
after volcanic island.

All pushed up directly into
the path of the monsoon.

When the monsoon winds collide
with a large volcanic mountain,

moist air is forced upwards,
forming immense clouds.

And the result,
arriving in great deluges,

is even more rain.

But this heady combination
of volcano and monsoon

has another dramatic effect...

..impacting both wildlife
and people.

Java, legendary as one of the most
fertile of the Spice Islands.

Yet at its heart lies a mysterious
and deadly place.

Each morning, fog drenches the land.

But when the intense sun burns it
off, it reveals no rainforest.

This is the Sand Sea.

And once a year, pilgrims risk
their lives to come here.

Sarina and her family
are Tengger people,

descendants of a great Hindu empire

that once stretched
from Sumatra to New Guinea.

Now their traditional culture
survives

only around the edges
of the Sand Sea.

Today, they are gathering
for a time-honoured ritual,

observed for over six centuries.

It's a ritual that for some,
in the past, proved fatal.

But Sarina's family,
like most Tengger, are farmers,

and believe that the success
of their next harvest
hangs on this day.

The climb is steep and treacherous.

As many as 3,000 people
will ascend to the narrow rim.

This is what Sarina's
family have come to honour.

Mount Bromo - a vast
and still very active volcano.

Daily, Bromo belches rocks
and sulphurous gas.

It could erupt at any time.

The Tengger risk all to bring
sacrifices for a Volcano God.

Legend has it that, once,
these sacrifices were human.

But these sacrifices aren't made
out of fear.

They're made in gratitude
for a rich harvest.

Though not much makes it
into the Volcano God's belly.

For those who dare to enter
the mouth of the volcano,

anything caught
is said to be a blessing.

The catchers risk their lives.

The angle of the slope
is up to 80 degrees.

One slip, and the sacrifice
might be human after all.

The chicken escapes the fire...

..but not the frying pan.

The Tengger are deadly serious
about thanking their Volcano God,

and they have good reason.

What seems a desert is not made
of sand,

but ash and cinder.

The entire Sand Sea sits within
a giant volcanic crater...

..first created by an immense
eruption nearly a million years ago,

with Bromo and four other volcanoes
nestling at its centre.

Plants are smothered so regularly
that little can survive.

But just beyond the crater...

..the Tenggers' farms are lush...

..the result of the volcano's bounty
meeting the monsoon.

Volcanic ash is rich in minerals
and nutrients, vital for all life.

With each eruption, plumes of ash
are scattered far and wide

by the monsoon winds...

fertilising millions of hectares
of Javan soil.

Such is the immense yield of food

that 140 million people
live on this one island.

That's the same
as the whole of Russia.

It's the double dose
of monsoon rains

plus an endless supply
of nutritious ash

that has driven the evolution
of rich and bountiful life

across these
tropical volcanic islands...

But there is a strange
and wonderful exception.

The island of Borneo.

Home to the oldest rainforests
on Earth...

..and yet they seem
strangely empty...

Mammals are seldom seen.

Their calls rarely heard.

What life is found

is secretive...

and often, very odd.

A giant Bornean red leech,
and it's hungry.

Without mammals to provide
a meal,

this forest is like a desert
for a bloodsucker.

But the leech has risen
to the challenge...

with deadly effect.

The heavy rains trigger the
emergence of another giant.

A Bornean blue earthworm,
70 centimetres long.

It follows an irresistible
chemical trail...

..to find a mate.

But leaving trails in
this forest is dangerous.

The leech has an extremely
sensitive mouth.

It tastes its way towards its prey.

Feeling up and down the worm's body,

it searches for an end.

And it starts to suck.

The worm fights back

but there is no escape.

The leech sucks its prey down
like spaghetti,

crushing the worm
with its muscular throat.

It will be a whole month before
this leech needs to hunt again.

The giant leech's evolution
from parasite to worm-killer

is just one of nature's answers to
the problems of living on Borneo.

Here, life is under extreme
pressure.

Despite all appearances,
these forests are impoverished.

Starved...by of all things,
the monsoon itself.

On Borneo,
there are no live volcanoes.

So there are no regular deposits of
mineral-rich ash to feed the land.

What there is, in abundance,
is rain.

Monsoons have drenched this land
for 130 million years,

continually flushing
nutrients away.

So without volcanic ash
to replenish the goodness,

the monsoon has rendered Borneo's
ancient soils infertile.

Yet somehow, the world's tallest
rainforest trees grow here.

At first glance, the tall trees
suggest abundance.

But this is an illusion.

They have simply evolved
to become super-efficient

at gathering minuscule trace amounts
of nutrients...

before the monsoon
can wash them away.

They lock these nutrients up
in giant fortresses

that serve to protect
their hard-won gains.

So the challenge for any animal
is to break into these fortresses.

Faced with such
a monumental challenge,

life on Borneo has responded,

in an explosion of strangeness
and beauty.

With the arrival of each monsoon,
butterfly numbers boom.

A lifeline for one tiny predator.

The Bornean falconet is the
smallest bird of prey in the world,

no heavier than a sparrow.

This pair has three voracious chicks
that need small prey in abundance.

Butterflies are just right.

The chicks demand over ten an hour.

Without the monsoonal
butterfly glut,

the falconets couldn't raise
their young.

But eating butterflies here
can be dangerous.

A Nephila spider, joining
the monsoon banquet.

For her prey, there is no chance
of escape.

Her web is strong enough
to hold small birds.

But she recognises this catch.

She snips at her web.

She's caught a tiger butterfly.

And he is utterly toxic.

Butterfly predators
need to learn this.

But his poison protection is
ultimately due to the way

that the monsoon has
starved these forests,

forcing the trees to battle
to protect their nutrients.

A minuscule caterpillar,
emerged from a butterfly's egg,

laid just after the rains.

Food surrounds him...

..but he faces a formidable problem.

The tree guards its nutrients
with fatal poisons.

He begins to chew...

but he's not eating.

He is excavating a trench.

The plant fights back,
oozing a noxious sap.

But the caterpillar
has created a barrier.

The sap, pumped from the stem,
can't reach him.

Finally he finishes his circle.

The heist is complete.

The portion inside is now
isolated and safe to eat.

As he grows, he raids the tree's
reserves time and again.

Each time, he ingests tiny traces
of poison.

And with each dose,
his resistance builds.

Until eventually,
he achieves complete immunity.

Now the caterpillar
can gorge himself.

He has harnessed
the tree's defences for himself.

Protected by the poisons
in his body,

no predator could safely eat him...

..and his ostentatious warning
colours

ensure that they won't even try.

Safe in his cocoon, with poisons
coursing through his veins,

the insect is completely
protected...

..through his development...

..and into his second life...

as a tiger butterfly.

Across the forest, millions
of similar battles rage

in an arms race over nutrients.

With each generation,

the caterpillar armies
improve their strategies...

..while the plants constantly
refine their chemical weaponry...

..resulting in a poison army
of oddities.

And a toxic forest with leaves
indigestible to most creatures...

..especially mammals.

But there is one peculiar resident

with extraordinary powers
of digestion.

Proboscis monkeys.

They are named after their strange,
tumescent noses

but proboscis have also been called
the cows of the canopy.

They are the only primate
with a digestive system

equipped to chew the cud.

To minimise the level
of any poison in their bodies,

no one plant can dominate
their diet,

so they are constantly on the move

and then pick only the youngest,
less-toxic leaves.

Their immense bellies are packed
with a very long, extended gut

and a complex stomach
with four separate chambers

that take 50 hours to digest dinner.

And despite all this,
most of the forest's foliage

is too difficult to digest.

In this nutrient war,
driven by the monsoon,

the trees are runaway winners.

They not only dictate the bodies
and lifestyles of these monkeys,

but ensure that the density
of mammals is kept low.

But even these fortress trees
have one inevitable weakness.

Eventually every leaf must die...

..leaking away precious nutrients...

..drip-feeding them
to the forest floor...

..where a voracious horde
waits to pounce.

With each monsoon shower,

microbes and fungi
burst into action,

bloating on the decay...

..softening the dead vegetation
for legions of competing creatures.

The race for nutrients

makes this one of the most
competitive environments on Earth.

But there's one creature
that's faster and more efficient

at consuming the leaves
than anything else.

Processionary termites.

Termites recycle a staggering
one-quarter

of all the leaf litter on Borneo.

They tear into the leaves...

..to create tiny food parcels

that are hauled back to the colony

in a tireless relay.

They are amassing
a priceless bounty.

Soldier termites flank
the column on high alert...

..armed with helmet-like heads
that squirt noxious chemicals.

In less than two hours - before
anything else can get a look-in -

the leaf has gone.

Marched portion by portion
into their underground nests.

A vital supply of nutrients,
returned to the soil...

..only to be rapidly sucked back up
and locked away again

in the giant fortress bodies
of the ancient trees.

The competition for nutrients
in this impoverished land,

washed by the heavy monsoons,

has, over millions of years,
created a unique array of life.

But there is one place on Borneo

where the monsoon is more extreme
than anywhere else...

..where it rains every single day.

Mount Kinabalu.

The highest peak in Borneo.

It towers 4,000 metres high...

..causing immense clouds
to form almost continually.

Over millions of years,

the rain has scoured and shaped
the rocks of Kinabalu...

..creating an alien landscape,

and washing away
any trace of nutrients.

But the bigger the challenge
the monsoon presents,

the more ingenious
is life's response.

Just below the peaks...

a myriad
of unique orchids flourishes.

Their roots reach out into the winds

to catch trace nutrients
dissolved in mountain mists.

Over a metre wide, rafflesia
is the world's largest flower...

..yet it has no roots,
stems or leaves of its own.

It's a parasite - stealing
its nutrients from other plants.

And most bizarre of all -
the pitcher plants.

Their leaves have evolved
to become deep cups,

filled with digestive juices.

The stomach-like vessels
hang across the forest...

..waiting for food.

Some have become leaf catchers.

The decomposing soup inside
feeds the plant.

Others have become carnivores.

Their colours and scents
lure insects

to a sugary nectar
that's too tempting to pass by.

But it's a trap.

Insects quickly slip
on the wet rim

and tumble into the
deadly liquid.

Their drowned bodies decay

in the enzyme-rich juice
of the killer plants.

But some pitchers need more
than just insects.

A giant amongst carnivorous plants,

the Kinabalu giant pitcher.

It's over 30 centimetres tall

and holds up to two litres
of liquid.

It patiently waits
for something warm-blooded.

A hungry tree shrew.

The mosses provide moisture
for a quick drink

but she needs a meal.

There is something sweet
on the air.

The scent of the giant pitcher plant
lures her closer.

It's irresistible.

To get a good lick of sugar,

she'll need to
climb on to the rim.

One slip and she'll fall.

PLOP!

But the shrew knows
what she's doing.

The plant offers its tasty treat

in exchange
for an important deposit.

A dose of perfect fertiliser

that the giant pitcher
so desperately needs for growth.

Tree shrews are territorial.

By leaving her droppings,

she's signalling to other shrews
that this plant is taken.

It is one of the most
extraordinary relationships

between plant and mammal anywhere...

..come about only because of the
extraordinary evolutionary pressure

from the monsoon
here on Mount Kinabalu.

The life found on Borneo

must count amongst some of
the most unusual on the planet.

And this is just one
of almost 20,000 islands

in the vast archipelago of which
Sulawesi and Java also belong.

Each a world of its own,

filled with strange inhabitants
and wonderful adaptations to life

trapped in the very heart
of the monsoon.

Mount Kinabalu towers
more than 4,000 metres

over the island of Borneo.

The monsoon team's goal is to
reveal the strange and dynamic world

of this mystical mountain,

and in the ancient forests
on its slopes,

they are on the trail
of a legendary predator.

One that remains a mystery
to science...

..the giant red leech.

To find the leech,

the crew first need
to find its prey...

..a giant worm.

We're now at 3,000 metres high.

Apparently, this is where the
Kinabalu giant blue worm thrives.

Scientist Alim Biun
discovers a telltale clue -

a huge worm cast,
surely created by a monster.

That is like an English earthworm.
It could be a giant blue.

Yes, yes. It is. It is a giant blue.

How long does it take to
get from that...? Nobody knows.

Nobody has studied it. Really?
Nobody knows.

Frustratingly, there's no sign
of its fully-grown relatives.

So Paul and Richard decide
to head for the summit

to capture crucial shots
of monsoon clouds

sweeping over the mountain.

It's a 1am start from their camp.

They reach the top,
hoping for glorious dawn light.

But all they catch is a fleeting
glimpse of the landscape.

One of the problems is that we
are here to try and film clouds,

the monsoon,

but actually, for 75%
of the time, you are actually in it,

and while you're in it,
you can see it.

Hence the wait. Yeah.
The big long wait.

Day after day, they scale
the rocky peaks

in the hope of striking lucky.

After a week, there's still
no sign of a break in the weather.

But their luck is about to change.

Lower down the mountain, they

discover another strange giant -

a pitcher plant, and the tree shrew

that it has a special
relationship with.

They're in the last place
the crew expected.

Turns out that the best place to
film these tree shrews is literally

15 metres from where we were staying.

Shrews are normally incredibly shy

but here they are used
to seeing climbers.

Even with the crew watching,

they continue to go about
their routine visits

to lick the giant pitcher
and make a deposit.

It's an incredible opportunity
and Paul wants to attempt

a shot that just wouldn't
be possible

with nervous shrews elsewhere.

We have been given
special permission

to cut the base of one of these

large pitchers so that I can
attach this small camera inside.

So I am just going to stick
this on here like this.

With a bit of luck, the tree shrew
will poo straight onto my lens.

And he is jumping on.

I can see him looking as well.

PLOP!

Fantastic. Yes.

That's him off. Yes. Got it.
Brilliant shot.

It's a world first.

Oh, yes.

With time running out,
the team head back to the top.

So once again,
we're climbing in the rain.

We have been up and down this
mountain ten times.

THUNDER RUMBLES

I just heard some thunder.

The storm is rapidly intensifying,

and the crew have to take
cover immediately.

The only shelter is a narrow gully.

Alim, how long do you think
this will last for?

It's going to be dark pretty soon
so we have decided to abandon some

kit here on the mountain
and head back to camp.

It is going to be pretty dodgy

because that is very slippy
out there.

Surrounded by thick cloud,
it's easy to get lost.

In recent years,
people have gone missing

from these slippery slopes.

But for the team, it turns out
that this cloud has a silver lining.

Further down the mountain,
the heavy monsoon rains

have triggered an emergence
of subterranean giants.

Look at this. Yes. Wow.

How many is that that we have
collected so far?

More than 10. More than 10? Nice.

And where there are giant worms,

Alim thinks that there should
be giant leeches on the hunt.

That's huge!

This is the adult. Wow!

And it's quite hard to determine

whether they're males or females.

Nobody has studied that so far.

Does this suck blood?

No, no, no. That's only
looking for earthworms.

It would be impossible to film
these animals without the help

of Alim and his team.

In return, the crew help him
to gain a valuable insight

into the lives
of these mysterious giants,

by filming this rarely seen
behaviour for the very first time.

But just as the crew plan
to leave the mountain,

there is an unexpected break
in the weather.

Dawn reveals a clear morning.

So I've come to the
summit of Mount Kinabalu.

I'm the highest person between
the Himalayas and Papua New Guinea

and on a day like today, you can
really appreciate the beauty

and it just looks absolutely
spectacular.

Using time-lapse photography,

the clouds are sped up,

bringing to life to this mountain
at the heart of the monsoon.

Next time, the lands of the monsoon

make up one of the busiest and most
productive regions on Earth.

This is an epic story
of a relationship

between the people who live here

and the bountiful nature
that surrounds them...

..from ancient times,

through the challenges of the modern
world and into the future.