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The first rule of fight club is there are no rules. Whether seizing a chance to breed or defending your genetic line, you've got to fight for your right to party. Because in nature, even love is a battle field. [screaming] The creatures of Earth are wilder than you could possibly imagine. Among the fast and fearsome are the astoundingly crazy. With strange behavior and outrageous fashion sense, they're all in a competition to survive. And weirdness always wins. the most successful also happens to be one of the smallest. Incredibly, over 20% all land animals are ants. That's 2 and 1/2 million ants per human.
Social and highly coordinated, they also happen to be lethal killers. So, the creatures that cross their path need a fighting edge to level the playing field. Enter the bombardier beetle. Toxic avenger extraordinaire. Found on almost every continent on Earth, bombardiers thrive because they are masters of self-defense. Foraging for small insects, this bombardier stumbles upon a forward patrol of ants. And these ants don't take lightly to intruding beetles.
Communicating via chemical pheromones, the ant patrol contacts base, sending reinforcements. The lone bombardier faces overwhelming odds. The ant swarm fears nothing. A single beetle is child's play. The beetle sprays a boiling caustic chemical from its rear end. A toxic cocktail of hydrogen peroxide and hydroquinone at a scalding 100° C. The chemical sprays in rapid pulses. Blanching the ants instantly.
Danger averted. The tough reaction chamber in its butt prevents it from cooking its own derriere. The bombardier beetle is as kick ass as they come. After months at sea swimming thousands of kilometers in search of food. She is about to finish her foraging migration returning to land for the first time since her birth. For some males, this may be their breeding season debut. From December to March every year, this quiet stretch of Californian coastline hosts a huge seal colony. Restful scenes, but a far cry from what is about to transpire. Right now, young males throughout the colony are succumbing to their hormones, turning the beach into a crucible of warring titans.
Introducing the beach master. The dominant bull on this stretch of coast is king. With a harem of 50 or so females, most of these kids are his. But if challenged, big daddy can become a big baddie. Three weeks after giving birth, mom's come into heat again. Females want the genes of a well-built hefty male. But his boudoir moves skew more caveman than Casanova. Even if he's considerate and lays most of his heft on the sand to avoid squishing her.
With the beach master indisposed, a low-ranked male sneaks in and tries to mate with one of his harem. [groaning and screaming] But she protests loud enough for the beach master to hear. The bull sees red. He's got a point to prove and bloodlines to protect. It's on for young and old. Rising 2 m tall, they strike hard. But the warrior's thick blubber works as natural armor. This contender knuckles under. Weighing close to 2 tons, powerful chest and neck muscles deliver titanic blows. In the breeding season's peak, competition for mating rights boils over.
The alpha bull's ability to fight all comers secures his turf and his harem. The boundaries have been set. The beachmaster won't have to fight these pretenders again this year. The alpha bull will recover from his wounds quickly. His battle scarring calcifying into protective armor for next year. The biggest loss? Time better spent in impregnating his females. [screaming] For the beachmaster, the spoils of war are the privileges of fatherhood.
The life and times of one of the northern hemisphere's most adventurous sea eagles is epic. Winters are spent running with the gannets and riding wild bow waves of North Sea trawlers. But as spring returns to the subarctic, high wind-swept coastlines make for monumental breeding roosts. My contests for nesting rights put these gulls in an anger management class of their own. kittiwakes undertake a 60-km voyage returning to the very same breeding colony year after year. Where the stench of almost 100,000 birds and their droppings saturates the air. Bonded males arrive first using olfactory clues to zero in on lingering orders of their mate to find last year's nesting site before she arrives. But space is at a premium. And the younger single males hope to
secure a quality roost of their own. Increasing their chances of attracting a mate. The older bonded male returns to his nest to find a young gull has jumped his claim. The prime property has convenient food access to provide for a family. With bills shaped like fish hooks, their locked beak battle is extremely painful. At any break, the two rivals race back up to the nesting spot. The ravages of war begin to show on the squatter. A severe injury can risk his ability to breed. And just as well because the elder girl's mate has just returned.
Tenderly preening and bill tapping, they reaffirm their bond for another year. The male proud that he secured the summer home for his family to be. If looks could kill, this Cape buffalo would long ago have rid the earth of its most hated enemy, bloody lions. Kings and queens of the African savanna, always sashaying around, sneaking up on you. What's so regal about picking on the young and sick? Ask any lion though, and the feeling's mutual. This is a grudge match thousands of years in the making. Midday in Africa, and the temperatures hit a scorching 30°.
A lone buffalo bull finds himself in enemy territory. African buffalo usually roam in herds of over 30 strong. Unless you've been ousted by a bigger, stronger rival. Like this guy. His sulky walkabout has led him straight to danger. Lions hate to hunt in heat this bad, but they know better than to let this opportunity pass. Because lion and buffalo families have long-standing beef. Blood spilled from this age-old vendetta soaks the Savannah. A 150 kilo lioness is small beans for an 800 kilo bull. But a whole pride is a different matter.
They must bring the buffalo down quickly before the heat brings them down. 10 cm long canines are formidable, but so is the buffalo's dense hide. Most pride need the power of a big strapping male to tackle prey this size. This one has the next best thing. Two young males. Even with the combined might of the pride, the buffalo refuses to buckle. Finally, the heat takes its toll on the lions.
The way of the warrior buffalo has prevailed. A small victory in the eternal battle between two ancient adversaries. Nature is all about niches. Every single creature has a specific role to play. Hunting for unique food means less competition. Agile with the brains of a super villain, this arachnid preys on other spiders. As far as spiders go, the Portia doesn't look scary. And no bigger than a fingernail, not intimidating at all. But the Portia's massive eyes are extremely powerful. Hunting foes often three times their size.
These assassins can analyze their prey's behavior and plot a stealthy path to reach their victims. This Portia is on a mission to take down a lethal adversary. An orb-weaver spider. Delicious. But the orb-weaver is in a much bigger weight class The Portia must plan the perfect attack if she has any chance of subduing the orb-weaver. She must inject her own fast-acting venom before she's overpowered.
Portia knows that her target has poor eyesight and it will react to the vibrations on its sticky web. A failed strike. The Portia escapes by the skin of her fangs. She has lost the element of surprise. Portia's super stealth means nothing. Her orb-spider opponent is ready for anything. To succeed now, the Portia's super-brain must calculate the ballistic trajectory and range perfectly. Recalibration complete. [groaning] Bull's eye. A quick shot of rapid-acting venom and the orb-weaver's innards are liquefied.
It's no small thing to dominate the African savanna. This herd of bachelor giraffes look upon the alpha in awe. When breeding season comes, he'll have the pick of the females. But how does one become an alpha? Practice. Young males must hone their fighting skills, preparing for a bout that may one day land them the top title. Transforming from Africa's most graceful animals into the goofiest. Standing at almost 6 m tall and weighing in at 1 and 1/2 tons, this dominant bull indulges in a little me time away from the guys.
The juicy tendrils filling his cavernous stomach as he eats close to 30 kg a day. But the alpha's moment of peace is soon disturbed. A low-ranked male, about the same in size, but much, much younger, would like a sparring lesson from the master. Why not humor the young fella? Besides, the alpha must stay sharp should a true contender one day challenge him. He whips his heavy skull. The lesson has begun.
The longer the neck, the more powerful the head butt. In this training dojo, the pair take turns striking. Like prize fighters, each giraffe has a dominant swing. The young gun positions himself for a sweet left hook. But the old bull has a few tricks up his sleeve. He tries to throw his opponent off balance. A high center of gravity unsteadies the young giraffe. The old bull's tactic secures a leg up in the fight.
Lowering his head and dropping his ears. And the old bull thinks what old bulls always think in moments like these. I still got it. He's being digested in the belly of a rat snake over five slow days. Re-energized, the rat snake patrols his realm. But in this kingdom, there can only be one true king. This female cobra has spent the last 3 months taking care of her eggs. The cobra's forked tongue picks up traces of the rat snake scent. But the rat snake knows it's being tailed.
4 m long, the cobra's more powerful than her meal. But the rat snake will still fight back. [snorts] The cobra's potent venom takes time to act. The rat snake strikes in return. But it's pointless. It's bite has no venom. In just 10 minutes, the victim is paralyzed. Cobra will absorb her victim for more than a week. Beware the man child of the Australian forests. He's famously cute and cuddly.
The poster boy for huggability. But he's got the maturity of a baby, too, with a taste for treetop tantrums. However, when you see how he treats his rival males and even his girlfriends, you'll wonder how much can a koala bear. This young guy is a classic couch potato. He spends 90% of his day snoozing. The other 10% he reluctantly chews on low nutrition toxic eucalyptus. It's a surprise koalas are still around because out of almost 400 types of eucalyptus, they eat only 70. While males are busy eating and sleeping, koala mothers do all the heavy lifting. From birth until her baby is weaned at 12 months, she'll bear its weight.
First in her pouch and then on her back. The kid is her pride and joy. But dad's flat out doing nothing until September each year when suddenly all he wants to do is become a dad again. His bellows let the ladies in the area know he's virile and on the move. His only goal, to impregnate as many females as he can in the next few weeks. But the girls aren't exactly throwing themselves at him. Not built for terrestrial travel, this is a full gallop. Something smells interesting up this tree. A potential mate? No, it's an older male who has rubbed his scent gland all over the branches, announcing he's ready to breed.
He tries to make a move on a female further up from where he sits. She responds, totally rejecting his advances. The younger male thinks he's more her type. But if he's to try his luck, he must first battle the old grouch. Better wait till sundown and launch a sneak attack. The young challenger tries to approach the female from a different tree. [snorts] But the rival male has spotted him. But hanging under the branch leaves the old guy open to attack. With a final bite, the older male is done for.
Turns out that was the easy part. Because now he has to impress the female. Famous for its teddy bear looks, this koala's attempt at coercing the female are far from gentle. She lets him know how she feels with a splash of urine to the face. Eventually, the male has his way. The treetop tryst is brief. the male will retire for a 22-hour nap, recharging for his next conquest. Strange echoes fill the valleys and mountains of North America. It's breeding season for bighorn sheep. And these males have their heads in the game. And growing increasingly agitated, the rams are all horny. But how's a gal to pick the right suitor?
Why not let the guys battle it out? Without their impressive headgear, the rams wouldn't survive combat. Their massive horns, curling in a keratin loop, are filled with air spaces, cushioning the blows. It helps reduce rapid brain deceleration and the chance of catastrophic injury. All brawn and little brains, these airheads demonstrate their strength and dominance. At last, the weaker sheep is muscled out of the fight. The victor still has more work to do in the pursuit of love, and thawing the lady's heart is a whole other battle. At the end of the day, brute force conquers everything on the Ewes' frozen mountains.
The rhythm of life among Borneo's mangroves bows to one true master, the moon, manipulator of tides. As brackish waters ebb seaward, it's game on for intertidal life among the freshly exposed mud flats. Eager eyes scan the banks looking to come ashore. This is not a frog or a crocodile. These are the eyes of a weird little fish. A fish that fights anybody who gets in his way. A fish out of water is generally not in their comfort zone. Walking ashore on powerful pectoral fins, these amphibious fish spend as much time on the land as they do in the water.
But mud flats are far from peaceful places to hunt. With just 4 hours till the tide returns, these mud skippers are up against the clock. But detritus left from the receding waters is always number one. Time out. Must oxygenate. As much as mudskippers love life on land, their respiratory gear has to work overtime to keep them alive. Bimodal breathers, they take in air through their moist skin and hold on to oxygen-rich water in their puffed-up gills, like portable oxygen tanks.
One mouthful of water lasts about 6 minutes. Access to a plunge pool is critical for breathing and hopefully attracting a female. because this is how mudskippers make each other's acquaintance. The ladies know that the highest jumpers are the fittest fellas. Today, they're not the slightest bit interested. This overexcited muddy has landed too close for his neighbor's comfort. Like an oafish calf at the cotillion, Dorsal fins rise in aggression. Mouths gape with insult. But, the oxygen clock has timed out. Where were we?
Ah, yes. A cat has insulted this cur. The duelists are evenly matched. This calls for a fight. A very short fight. Battling while you're holding their breath is exhausting. So, they resign to their own mud pools again. As the tide rises, the mood on the mudflat brightens. And everyone returns to the pomp of their aerial pretensions. But, mudskipper manners never last long. Because on planet weird, the next outrage is never more than a sideways glance away.
