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But, long before love steals their breath away, male salmon hatchlings grow up in the river of their birth. Eventually, it's time to graduate to the open ocean. These are their bachelor years, living free and hanging with the guys. they feel the urge to settle down and have a family. Red hot and Randy, they know just where to go. The spawning grounds, where mom and dad met. hoping the party won't start without them.
Big hairy bouncers weeding out the weaklings. With the grizzlies in the rearview mirror, a hookup party for the ages finally kicks into gear. Everybody's looking hot. The guys run wild, hitting on the girls and vibrating, encouraging them to lay eggs. At last, a partner and a family on the horizon. If only they could enjoy it. But these guys left it all on the field and there's nothing left to give. They're punching out. When they die, their decomposing bodies nourish the young. For never was there a story ending in more woe than if these salmon Juliets and their Romeos.
Thousands of years of evolution have created wildlife's biggest stars. Flamboyant exhibitionists, crowd pleasers, and action [clears throat] heroes. But the biggest box office draw of them all, the sausage tree. Weird fruit, weird flowers, and an even weirder way of spreading its seed. When you're rooted to the spot like the Kigelia sausage tree, you need a little help to scatter your seeds. Step one. Gather a fan base. Use your leafy green canopy to entice animals into the shade. Step two. [groaning] Give the audience what they want.
Sausage tree flowers have evolved a seductive kind of rancid perfume that everybody loves. And out here in Zambia's Luangwa Valley, nothing says eat me quite like kicking up a stink. but find dessert instead. Gorging on sugary nectar. In return, the tree coats them in pollen that they'll carry to other sausage trees pollinating their flowers. In just a few weeks, the sausage tree's reproductive strategy shows results. Behold the sausage fruit. Step three. The sausage tree needs an animal agent to extract its seeds. Heat and drought-resistant, a windfall of sausage fruits is a bonanza for starving animals. With some of the strongest jaws in the
primate world, they gnaw through the shell easily. Devouring the fleshy pulp and seeds inside. Within a few hours, the urge to poop sausage tree seeds runs through the troop like a wave of dyspepsia. For the sausage tree, mission accomplished. the young sausage saplings spring to life. Emerging into the spotlight, one day to take their place as icons of the African savanna. Meet Australia's flying foxes, masters of life in the upside down under. Everything these furry bats do is inverted. Absolutely everything. For some, the idea of having sex upside down might seem on the far side of experimental.
For lustful, well-hung fruit bats, this is as normal as it gets. Inverted, females hang onto the males by their ankles. While he grabs onto her neck with his teeth, pinning her wings to her side. success. Their encounter is over. A year later, the baby bats are starting to get the hang of adult life. But there's no upside down time for the bat brothers. They must teach their pups the ways of the forest. And as the sun climbs higher, how to stay cool. Above 40° C, Celsius, flying foxes can die from heat stress.
[screaming] So, baby bats need to learn how to take a dip. Coarse hairs on their belly and chest absorb water, which they lick off at the roost. But, it's a gutsy mission because northern Australian rivers are primordial. Yes, thanks to all the nectar, fruit bats taste just like candy. And fresh water crocodiles have a sweet tooth. All 72 of them. The lucky surviving mothers return to the roost, reuniting with their pups and the safer world of life upside down. In the far-flung reaches of the Indian Ocean, there is a strange island seething with ritualistic mating rites.
A scarlet kingdom of crustaceans unlike anywhere on Earth, where 50 million red crabs gather beneath the quarter moon in an orgy for the ages. The Christmas Island crab is a pleasure-seeker extraordinaire. For most of the year, these crabs live the single life in the rainforest. the island erupts in an amorous mass migration. In order to mate, these land crabs need to get back to the beach. But they live 16 km from the nearest coastline. And man-made obstacles litter their path. We have heavy crab movement across all roads south today.
Motorists are warned to drive at their own risk. Powerful hormones flood the crabs' bodies. Pumped up on these love drugs, island traffic is a mere inconvenience. Their super slow metabolism isn't designed for long-distance marches. casualties are inevitable. Finally, after a 15-day trek, they reach the ocean's edge. The larger male crabs arrive before the horde and are the first to inseminate the females. When the lights go out, it's party time. After mating, the females congregate by the shoreline in pregnant anticipation. Before dawn, when the moon reaches its
last quarter, the females joyfully release more than a billion eggs into the water. Over the next month, their transformation is spectacular, developing into fully formed baby crabs. The crimson tide of new life reclaims Christmas Island. Just another incredible origin story, and living proof evolution is alive and conjuring every conceivable way for life to succeed. Hey, love nature fans. Be sure to like and subscribe to catch all our wild animal stories. Get closer to nature right here on YouTube.
