01x01 - Episode 1

[bunniefuu]

All around the planet,

billions of animals are

on the move

making incredible journeys.

The most amazing of these

are the smallest.

This series uses

the latest camera technology

to follow six tiny animals

on the biggest adventures

of their lives

as they travel through

extraordinary landscapes

where every little step counts.

In this episode,

a newly-hatched turtle must travel

through a tangled forest

to seek the safety of water

and a nocturnal bushbaby

must venture into

a strange world of light

to find a new home.

The greatest adventures

are the smallest.

This painted turtle hatchling

is the size of a walnut.

Her nest in Algonquin, Canada,

has been in the perfect place

for incubation.

Made of loose, sandy soil

and bathed in sunshine,

it has kept her safe

for three months.

But now, she must leave

on a mission

to find a lake she can call home

unaware of what lies ahead.

Only 1% of hatchlings

will make it to adulthood,

so her destiny is far from certain.

It is autumn

and night-time temperatures

are unpredictable,

so she must make it to water

in just eight hours

because if there is a frost,

the rapid drop in temperature

will k*ll her.

For most hatchlings,

eight hours is plenty of time.

But her mother selected

an unconventional spot to nest in

the roadside verge of Highway 60.

Built in 1936,

it transects the southern portion

of Algonquin Provincial Park.

The sandy roadside edges have become

favoured sites for nesting turtles.

But it puts this newly-emerged

hatchling in mortal danger

as she tries to reach the lake.

Instinctively, she heads for

the horizon.

Turtles are hard-wired to associate

horizons with the presence of water.

Here, it takes her on a direct path

up to the road.

It's not just the traffic

she needs to worry about.

Predators patrol the highway,

searching for an easy meal.

Her body is adapted for swimming,

not climbing -

with webbed feet too tiny

to grip the gravel.

All the slipping wastes

valuable time.

A red fox.

Instinct kicks in and she freezes.

She is camouflaged

amongst the pebbles.

The forest lies

ten metres ahead of her

the equivalent of half a mile

for a human.

Out here, there's no hiding.

On this flat ground,

she can travel much quicker

at a quarter of a mile an hour.

But with vehicles travelling

at 50 miles an hour

the odds are stacked against her.

One lane down.

One more to go.

More trouble.

A raven.

These intelligent predators

have a keen eye.

Savedby a truck.

Sometimes, being little pays off.

Most hatchlings don't make it

this far.

Having succeeded against the odds,

she is about to enter

a completely different world.

8,000 miles away in South Africa,

the sun is setting

over a vast acacia forest.

An old tree hollow

is home to a family of

pint-sized nocturnal primates

Mohol bushbabies.

This ten-month-old male is waking up

alongside his mum and twin sister.

They will soon set off

to scour their territory

on the hunt for insects.

But it is winter,

and with the colder, drier weather,

food is becoming scarce.

His mum is also pregnant -

more than likely with twins again.

With more mouths to feed,

the territory cannot support

them all.

Having done all that she can

and with no other option,

his mother turns on him

driving him away.

Now, all alone,

he must find a new home

before he starves.

He needs around 200

unclaimed acacia trees

to create his own territory.

But first, he must find food

to fuel his journey.

He has learnt from his mother

where to find

an important winter food -

acacia gum.

A large and reliable source

can be found half a mile away.

He must navigate through the

dense forest to get there.

As he goes, he uses another skill

he learnt from his mother -

to pee on his hands.

It is a way of scent-marking,

and the super sticky urine

gives him grip.

A special membrane

at the back of his eye

reflects and amplifies the moonlight,

helping him find his way in the dark.

He makes fast progress.

Bushbaby hind legs are superpowered

with stretchy tendons

and extra-large muscles.

They catapult him from tree to tree

at two metres a second.

He's nearly made it to

the acacia gum.

But after the moon sets,

his vision is limited.

It is risky to keep going

when he can't see.

His hearing is now all he has to

keep himself safe from predators.

Bushbabies hear higher frequencies

than humans,

a range that is perfectly attuned

to detecting noises in the forest.

His enormous ears respond

to every sound

every creak

as he tries to work out

who is friend

who is foe

and what is food.

The coast appears to be clear,

and food is just one jump away.

Acacia gum is formed when a tree

is cut or damaged

as it releases sap

to seal the wound.

It is a vital food source for

bushbabies during the winter months,

but it only provides

three calories per gram.

He must lick a lot

if he is to replenish

his dwindling energy levels.

He is distracted enough to

let his guard down

not wise

when danger lurks in the shadows.

In Canada, the hatchling

has made it across the road

but she has entered

a completely new environment.

An ancient deciduous forest

lies between her and the lake.

With only six hours of daylight

remaining,

it's a huge task to make it

to the lake by nightfall.

Beech, maple and pine trees

tower 45 metres above her.

Her minute body

with its cumbersome shell

isn't adapted

for this as*ault course.

But she is resilient.

Every time she falls over,

she uses her head

to flip herself back.

Like her, the animals here

have their own challenges

before winter sets in.

A pileated woodpecker feasts on

as many Medeola berries as it can

before they become buried

by the snow.

And chipmunks must stash

up to 150 nuts a day

to feed on through the winter months.

But she won't need to eat

until spring.

She's fuelled by the yolk

she fed upon

when she was still inside her egg.

Although she might not be hungry,

she is at risk of being eaten.

There are plenty of predators

here who would snatch her up

so the quicker she can get

through the forest, the better.

Navigating in the forest is

much harder with no obvious horizon.

If she could just get

a little higher,

she might get a better view.

Digging in with her claws,

she hauls herself to the top.

After getting her bearings,

she begins the descent -

not as easy to control.

Water - at last

in a black bear's pawprint.

It gives her skin a welcome refresh,

but it's no substitute for the lake.

She must keep moving.

Time is still her biggest enemy.

Minutes, then hours, are ticking by.

The woods at night are no place

for a miniature turtle.

She risks freezing to death

or being attacked

by nocturnal predators.

It is vital she makes it to the lake

by sunset.

But nightfall is just one hour away,

and the lake is nowhere to be seen.

Under a starlit sky

in South Africa

the young male bushbaby

is only half a mile into his journey

for a new home.

But, distracted by food,

he's left himself open to attack.

In these forests, for one so smalll,

danger lurks around every corner.

His scent has been picked up

by a genet

one of the few predators

adept enough in the trees

to catch a bushbaby.

Its flexible, slender body allows it

to creep closer to its prey.

Its tail provides vital balance.

If it gets within striking distance,

it can k*ll with a single bite

to the neck.

But it makes one tiny slip.

Saved by a superpowered jump.

Using stored energy in his tendons,

the bushbaby leaps

30 times his body length.

His rapid response has

saved his life.

But he's now in a completely

unfamiliar part of the forest.

An eerie glow in the distance

and the unmistakable buzz

of insects.

Al light outside

a remote bush lodge

surrounded by his favourite food.

It draws him closer.

Being a nocturnal animal,

he is wary of the light.

But in winter,

with insects harder to find,

this is a unique opportunity

for the bushbaby.

Hunger drives him on.

Moths not only provide the bushbaby

with twice as many calories

as acacia gum

but also valuable protein

to build and maintain his muscles.

The human world has given him

an opportunity,

but it also brings new dangers.

Domestic dogs can k*ll bushbabies.

It is too risky for him to stay here.

But he has made a connection

between light and food.

And in the distance,

there are more lights to explore.

The hatchling is three quarters

of a mile into the forest

struggling through

the leaf litter

with no sign of the lake yet.

Eight hours since she left

her roadside nest,

and the sun is now setting.

And without its warmth,

the temperature rapidly drops

and her pace slows.

She is out of time.

The sharp autumn frost

could k*ll her

if the nocturnal predators

don't sniff her out first.

At ten degrees, her body temperature

is dangerously low.

Instinct kicks in

and she buries herself.

Using the leaf litter as a blanket,

it will keep her a few degrees

warmer and hide her from predators.

It is her best chance of surviving

the night.

A raccoon.

With dexterous paws,

it is skilled at finding food

amongst the leaf litter.

Being an omnivore,

it isn't fussy about what it eats.

It just needs to pile on the pounds

ahead of winter.

A turtle hatchling

would be a welcome find.

But nuts are a great

alternative source of protein.

The hatchling is safe

for now.

In South Africa,

the bushbaby has travelled

across six miles of acacia forest

over three nights.

Having made a connection

between light and food,

he is heading in a new direction

towards the human world.

Delicious food is laid out

for the taking

Including something he has never

come across before - banana.

This is a safari lodge

where all wildlife is welcome

to come and dine.

Not only that -

the owners have put up a

specially-designed bushbaby box.

Another bushbaby.

And another.

A third.

He's stumbled into hostile territory.

An adult male rules this roost

and has no intention

of letting another male

onto his patch.

Once they notice him,

he'll be in trouble.

Their alarm calls are a warning

for him to keep away.

But the lure of the sweet-smelling

banana is too much to resist.

Having escaped, he takes

his first bite of the stolen banana.

With so much sugar in it,

it is unlike anything

he has tasted before.

Powered by this new rocket fuel,

he can continue his search

for a new home.

Daybreak in Canada.

The hatchling's instinct to bury

herself overnight has paid off.

Being cold-blooded,

she basks in the autumn sunshine.

She must warm up to

at least 15 degrees

before she can continue

with her journey.

There are signs she is close.

Little did she know last night

that she was only 15 metres

from the lake.

But it still takes her half an hour

to make it to the water.

This is Whitefish Lake.

Finally, she is somewhere

she belongs.

No longer clumsy and slow,

her streamlined body

and webbed feet enable her to glide

through the water,

much faster than

when she was on land.

This could now be her home

for the next 50 years or more.

But she hasn't reached

the end of her journey just yet.

She now needs to find a spot

in which to hibernate.

She heads towards

the deeper, darker, cooler waters,

where she will be safe

over the winter.

But she is not alone.

A moose has come to feed here.

The turtle is as small as its eye

and practically invisible

amongst the pond weed.

She dives out of range.

But she must return to the surface

one last time

to take her last breath

for five months

before diving down to the bottom.

Here, the water won't freeze,

even in the middle of winter.

But lurking down here are monsters

1,000 times her size.

Snapping turtles.

In these waters,

they are the top predators

and painted turtle hatchlings

are on the menu.

For once, time is on her side.

At 15 degrees, snappers

start to slow down

as their bodies prepare for

hibernation.

It's becoming too cold for

hunting little turtles.

She must hurry to find a good place

to hibernate

before her body shuts down, too.

The cold water is already

taking effect.

But hibernation will trigger

even greater physiological changes.

The heart rate can drop as low

as eight beats an hour

and her metabolism will fall

to just 10% of its usual rate.

She finds a sheltered spot.

She'll hibernate here

for five months,

protected from the freezing

temperatures at the surface

only becoming active again

when spring brings warmer weather.

And in 12 years,

when she is sexually mature,

she'll venture back out of the lake

to lay her own eggs

a journey that may see her make

the same perilous trip

through the woodland and across

the road to the nesting grounds

along Highway 60.

Over the last few nights,

the bushbaby has travelled

five miles,

moving closer to the lights

on the horizon.

But he still hasn't found

a new territory.

Unbeknown to him

the lights are those of

a huge city.

Pretoria.

Home to nearly three million people.

In the suburbs,

local conservation groups

have created a novel way

for bushbabies to move between

the surrounding patches of forest.

Ropes.

For this bushbaby,

it is a new way to travel.

He catches a whiff of

sweet-smelling banana

the rocket fuel he first

encountered at the safari lodge.

It has been left out by

a bushbaby-friendly resident.

He's unaware he is being watched.

A g*ng of city-savvy bushbabies

regularly feed on this balcony.

He may be driven away yet again.

But he can tell from their calls

that they are friendly.

Instead of chasing him away,

this time they tolerate

his presence

even grooming him

accepting him into their tribe

something that would never happen

in the wild acacia forests.

Although interactions with people,

pets and vehicles

can be stressful for bushbabies

there is an abundance of food here.

And urban bushbabies can weigh

a quarter more

than their forest counterparts.

Because there is less competition,

their social system has adapted

to be more welcoming to strangers

and unrelated bushbabies

band together

to form a different type of family.

The bushbaby follows his new g*ng

and they lead him deeper

into the metropolis.

They are taking him to

a secret location.

A place with 24/7 security

fortified with high walls

razor wire

and CCTV.

The g*ng are undeterred.

This is somewhere worth

breaking into.

Once inside

he discovers what the g*ng

have come to raid.

Pristine white bird of paradise

flowers

full of nutritious nectar and still

blooming in the middle of winter.

Busted.

As they flee, he jumps past

some familiar-looking animals

and some less familiar.

This is Pretoria Zoo,

a 200-acre site

in the middle of the city

where the gardens are watered

year round,

giving the bushbaby g*ng

access to nectar,

even in the winter.

With sunrise fast approaching

he joins his new bushbaby g*ng

as they follow

their urine scent trail home.

Located at the top of

a huge palm tree,

their nest is quite

the penthouse suite.

The male bushbaby ventures inside.

Having travelled 15 miles

from his natal home

he has ended up in a very

different place to where he grew up.

But finally, he has food on tap

year round,

a new family and a new home.

Everything he could ever need.

To film the tiny animals featured

in this series,

the Big Little Journeys team

needed specialist camera technology.

And for the two animals

in this episode,

very different approaches

were needed.

Painted turtles and

bushbabies couldn't be more different.

Bushbabies are very unpredictable.

They're like ping-pong ba*ls

pinging from tree to tree.

You think they're going to land in

a certain place,

and then they land

somewhere completely different.

And then the painted turtles

are incredibly slow-moving.

They only move

when they want to move,

which is absolutely fair enough.

So they just go

whichever way they want.

Arriving in South Africa,

the team set about filming

the bushbaby's journey first.

They are equipped with a five-metre

long gyrostabilised camera crane.

It allows us to get into the

bushbaby's world,

up into the canopy

and follow them smoothly,

as if we're travelling

alongside them.

Such complex moves

require two people.

One operates the crane,

while the other controls the camera.

So, to be able to control the crane,

I've got focus on this hand

and a joystick on this hand.

Thankfully, 15 years of playing

computer games

are finally paying off.

It's quite a challenge trying

to follow them

and sort of cross--coordinate

all the different moves.

But once you get that shot

where the bushbaby's moving,

the camera's following it

you can't beat that.

In Canada,

getting into the painted turtles' world

presents the team

with the opposite challenge

and requires a totally different

camera set-up.

You get what we're getting,

but as long as it's level this way.

We turned it upside down

so that we can actually push forward

on the slider.

So this allows us to follow

the turtle

as she goes through the undergrowth.

So, I can try

But the team must

constantly reset and re-level the rig

over and over again

in order to capture every stage

of a turtle's journey.

In South Africa, bushbabies are

not the only animals

the crew need to watch out for.

There have been reports of lions

in the area.

We're in the pitch-black filming,

you know, looking up

in the trees for our bushbabies

and not on the ground for lions.

So, it is a little bit stressful.

But the crew must keep filming,

as this is the peak time

for bushbaby activity.

Right now, it's super dark.

We can't see anything.

So we're using

really low-light cameras

to suck in as much light

as possible

into this world

that the bushbabies live in.

16 times more sensitive

than human vision,

the cameras are able to see the world

as if through the bushbabies' eyes.

They're just so intriguing

and so engaging to watch.

It's such an amazing challenge.

But just as the crew

are making progress,

news comes in that the lions

have been spotted

only 300 metres away.

Did you hear that?

We're filming the bushbabies.

We kept hearing

all these alarm calls.

The rangers have said, you know,

it's getting a bit dodgy.

We got some lovely shots,

but we're just going to pull out now

and we think that's

the safest decision.

The team retreat to the vehicle,

and once the lions move on,

will carry on filming.

In Canada, despite the slow progress,

the turtle is finally

nearing the lake.

The challenge is how to film

the incredible moment

that the hatchling enters the water

for the first time in her life.

Using a newly-developed

Periscope probe lens,

the hatchling can be fiimed

as she travels from land into water.

Here she comes.

Come on, little one! Whoops!

Nice.

The team can now capture

the final chapter

in the hatchling's remarkable journey

as she tries to find somewhere

to hibernate.

In Pretoria Zoo, to film the end

of the bushbaby's story,

the team need to work out how

the g*ng are getting into the zoo.

We know that they're

coming into the zoo

and they're feeding

from the birds of paradise flowers,

so we're just popping up

a camera trap.

That's great.

But this is a very long wall,

so it's quite difficult to pick

the exact spot

that they might be coming in.

It is over to camera operator Ben

to apply some analytical thinking

to the situation.

Essentially, I've got to think that

the bushbaby's like a burglar

and they're breaking into the zoo.

I'm excited.

This is the thing about

camera traps.

You never know what you're

going to get,

and sometimes, it's disappointment.

Bushbaby!

- Bushbaby!

Whoa!

- That's cool.

Wow!

It means that we know genuinely

this is how the bushbabies

are breaking into the zoo

and this has just proved it.

With knowledge of the

bushbabies' entry point,

the team are able

to film the bushbaby g*ng

as they jump around the zoo

before retreating to their home

deep in the urban jungle.

For the Big Little Journeys team,

it took specialist kit, perseverance

and a bit of luck to film

these two very different animals

in their own unique worlds

on their epic journeys.