Original subtitles

NARRATOR: Since the beginning of time,

the bird has been an inspiration to the artist, the scientist and the poet.

In almost infinite variety,

nature has scattered these colorful creatures across the face of the Earth.

Each species has a long and interesting history,

but none more fascinating than the story to be found

in the habits and customs of the water birds.

In ancient times, water birds were a source of great mystery to man,

for they would appear out of nowhere,

sweeping across the tract of seas

to disappear again into the great unknown.

Sometimes primitive man worshiped the water birds as gods.

More often he viewed them with envy

and longed for the miracle of winged flight

and the freedom of the skies.

"Free as a bird" is a familiar expression,

and yet a bird isn't really free at all.

He rarely makes a flight without a definite purpose,

and he has but one full-time job, simply to stay alive.

Nature, however, lends a helping hand.

And in this True-Life Adventure,

we will discover how she's adapted the water bird

to meet the problems of survival.

Many species of water birds are migratory,

like these gannets,

who each year migrate from the equator

to Bonaventure Island in the Gulf of Saint Lawrence,

for in these northern latitudes,

18 hours of daylight permit intensive fishing.

To the gannets, the island is one enormous apartment house.

Accommodations in the sky room are, of course, preferred.

But space is so very limited

that even the narrowest ledges are overcrowded

and territorial rights are jealously guarded.

Fishing patrols are constantly leaving and returning to the island.

To make a landing in these crowded areas,

the webbed feet as well as the wings

combine for maximum braking efficiency.

With each arrival, cordial greetings are exchanged.

But to the question, "Was the fishing good?"

the answer is, "No."

Actually, through these strange noddings and bobbings,

the gannets communicate with each other

and identify their mates.

Nests are constructed almost entirely of seaweed.

But there's such a shortage of even this material

that the gannets often steal each other's nests

when they're left unguarded.

This particular thief was caught in the act,

which naturally leads to some embarrassment.

In spite of the many problems,

homes are completed and eggs are laid,

only one to a nest.

And now the struggle for survival begins.

Breaking through a tough eggshell is an exhausting job.

The youngsters develop rapidly,

and in a few weeks, here he is in his first new suit.

Keeping young appetites satisfied is a tremendous task.

When three months old, the young outweigh their parents.

This youngster doesn't know it,

but he'll soon have his last free meal.

Then for 10 days he'll live on his reserve fat

while he's learning to swim, fly,

and most important of all, to fish.

Oftentimes, the gannet appears to go into a trance

and search the heavens for some mysterious sign.

And that usually means that a school of herring

has appeared in the depths below.

The fish sometimes move at great depths,

but the gannet will begin its dive

as much as 100 feet above the water.

To cushion the impact as they smack into the water,

nature has equipped them with pneumatic cells,

shock absorbers that protect their chest area.

They never seem to have an accident or a collision.

Their timing is uncanny.

The Gulf of Mexico is far distant from Bonaventure Island,

but here, too, the struggle for territorial rights continues.

In this colony of terns,

two mothers argue bitterly over a mix-up in children.

It seems the chicks have wandered into the wrong backyards.

A few pecks and a scolding, however,

soon sets things straight again.

(PEEPING)

As an inducement to stay home and behave,

one mother offers her youngster a tasty surprise.

Her neighbor, on the other hand,

believes the best way to keep children out of mischief

is to see that they're fully occupied.

This is a mated pair of fairy terns.

To escape the nesting competition on the ground,

this species long ago took to the bushes.

Actually, the fairy tern has no nest.

It simply lays its egg on a bare branch.

The parents share the task of incubating the egg.

By some miracle it stays put.

Even more amazing is the tiny chick,

who stays glued to his perilous perch until he's old enough to fly.

The pompous pelican looks like one of nature's mistakes,

but only on the ground.

In the air, he's a masterpiece of functional design

and a fisherman without equal.

His dive is a study in perfect coordination.

At lunchtime, the pelican's pouch

serves as a bowl for fish chowder.

But the first one to find a prize

isn't always the one to keep it.

When a battle royal develops, everyone enjoys the fun.

All except gloomy Gus,

who looks down his nose at the whole affair.

(SWALLOWING)

In spite of his size,

the pelican is often annoyed by troublesome neighbors.

The thieving gulls are a constant headache.

White pelicans prefer the shores and islands of inland lakes.

Their nests are simply hollows scooped in the sand.

The newly-hatched are exposed not only to the elements,

but also to the jealous wrath of their older brothers.

These naked chicks will have no protective coat for several weeks.

It's a wonder that any reach maturity.

But in nature the will to survive is strong.

And what a pelican lacks in poise and grace,

he more than makes up for in determination.

The young are independent and adventuresome,

which creates a problem in a crowded community.

The parents are constantly re-sorting and reshuffling the children.

Each parent knows its own,

and a trespasser is soon put in his place.

Sometimes when a youngster dips into the food locker,

he goes a bit too far.

Whatever he found down there certainly packs a wallop.

To ensure the reproduction of her many children,

nature devises many different forms of courtship.

The male wood duck, for instance, in dazzling plumage,

need only sit quietly to decoy his mate.

The man-o'-war bird also uses fancy dress to help him win a bride.

On his throat he carries a large, inflated sac.

For some strange reason,

this makes him quite irresistible to the opposite sex.

When the family arrives

and Father becomes thoroughly domesticated,

his ego is completely deflated.

Here two male coots are fighting for the favor of a female.

This is serious business, and it could end in death by drowning.

(BOTH SQUAWKING ANGRILY)

The heartless female doesn't care who wins the grand struggle.

She just wants a quick decision and a mate.

In fact, she's in such a hurry

she leaves before the fighting is over

to gather nesting material.

Weary from a hard-won battle,

the victor is overwhelmed with rushes and reeds

to make a home for his enterprising bride.

Time passes.

And after all the fuss and furor, this is their reward.

With the snowy egrets,

the competition of courtship sometimes inspires strange antics.

But when it comes to strange courtships,

few can compare with that of the western grebe.

The peculiar ritual includes the gathering of moss for nest-building.

After the ball is over, the business of homemaking begins,

but not until a raft of reeds has been built.

Now the grebes' floating home can ride the crest of the floods.

For the pintail ducks, it's bottoms up,

and that means it's mealtime.

They live on what they can grub from the muddy bottom.

Bluebill ducks, however, patrol the waters farther offshore.

In the struggle for survival, food gathering is all-important.

And so nature adapts her birds to different diets

and restricts them to separate feeding areas.

In this orderly cafeteria,

the shallow waters are reserved for the pintails.

The bluebills search for food at lower levels.

And the cormorants, like this one,

find their food at extreme depths.

If the bluebills discover something special,

the good news travels fast.

But latecomers needn't worry, there's plenty for all.

The purple gallinule finds its food among the water lilies.

And these oversized feet supply balance and support for walking on the pads.

They're also handy for turning up a square meal.

To meet the competitive problem of survival,

nature has adapted beaks and bodies

in many strange and interesting ways.

These wading birds find a pair of long legs very useful,

and a long, sharp beak for spearing fish is just as necessary.

The beak of the black skimmer

has been designed for a highly specialized job.

Unlike most birds, the skimmer's lower jaw is fixed,

while the upper mandible is hinged.

With this unique equipment, the skimmer excels at surface fishing.

The spoonbill is another example

of nature's specialized design.

He feeds in waters patrolled by other wading birds,

and yet he doesn't live on fish.

His food consists of minute forms of sea life,

which he must consume in great quantities.

The broad, flat bill contains strainers,

which separate the food from the water.

His bill also comes in handy at nest-building time.

These wading birds are called avocets,

and they comb the lagoons and marshes.

Like reapers, they sweep the waters with their curved beaks.

In this case, their food is mosquito larvae.

The curlew is a near relative of the avocet,

yet her beak curves in the opposite direction

for probing into mud and moss.

She's a devoted mother and also a clever actress.

Her specialty is the broken-wing act,

which she uses whenever danger is near.

Disregarding her own safety, she pretends her wing is broken

and lures the enemy far from her nest.

Here, a mother killdeer senses that something's amiss.

And no wonder. One of her brood has strayed from the nest

and there's a stranger in the skies, directly overhead.

She takes no chances.

Leaving Father in charge, she begins a search.

(CALLING)

The killdeer also uses the broken-wing act.

Keeping one eye peeled for the truant,

she flutters and flaps pathetically.

Wayward chick is found and sent scurrying home,

while Mother continues her covering action.

With the prodigal safe under Father's wing,

everybody's happy.

Among plovers, nests are abandoned early,

and from then on, home is where Mother is.

Mother sandpiper, it seems, has rhythm.

High among the snow-fed mountain streams

lives the water ouzel,

sometimes called the dipper.

Only about the size of a robin,

this is one of nature's strangest water birds.

She neither dives nor swims,

yet she can actually submerge and walk on the bottoms of streams.

Here she finds tempting grubs and larvae for her young.

The water ouzel makes its home beside the rushing waters,

a place secure from most of its enemies.

The young have no fear of the swift streams,

and at a tender age they start to explore,

even before they learn to fly.

This youngster disregards the warning of his elders.

Every dip increases his confidence.

Suddenly the current catches him.

Like a leaf, he's swept away over the rushing cataract.

Father tries to help, but there's nothing he can do.

There's a happy ending, though,

for, by lucky chance, the adventurer was swept to safety.

In the tropics as in the mountains,

nature displays her wonders in specialization.

Because the flamingo feeds with its head upside down,

the lower jaw has developed into a massive pincer.

An agile foot stirs up the muddy bottom,

while the long neck maneuvers to snap up shrimps and snails.

When it comes to an argument,

that pliable neck can drive a point home.

And at siesta time,

there's always a place to rest a weary head.

The flamingo is a skilled architect

and uses its beak to shape a tall nest of mud.

In spite of their size, flamingos are quite timid.

The slightest outside disturbance

will send the whole colony into headlong flight.

Awkward and grotesque on the ground,

in the air, they're a picture of grace.

Here's an odd sight.

Looks like a cloud of birds against the blue sky.

As a matter of fact, they are birds,

but they're nesting on a small atoll in the Pacific.

These are the black-footed albatross,

or gooneys, as they're sometimes called.

And this is a mated pair.

While one sits on the egg, the mate stands affectionately by.

In other climates, eggs are carefully protected from the cold.

But here in the tropics they must be shielded from the hot rays of the sun,

so the parents provide the necessary shade.

To accomplish this, however,

the gooney must fit the egg into a feathered pouch beneath its breast.

And so you see,

sitting on a gooney egg isn't an easy task,

even for a gooney.

To each of her water birds, nature has given a design for living.

These designs are many and intricate,

full of color and beauty.

And when they all blend together, they become a musical poem,

a rhythmic, flowing rhapsody.

In the strange, fascinating life of the water birds,

there are many secrets.

In this True-Life Adventure we've explored only a few.

But season after season, as long as life goes on,

the water bird will continue to be a source of wonder

and mystery and beauty to all mankind.