Jeremy Wade Faces Giant Black Piranha in Remote Amazon Tributary

Jeremy Wade Faces Giant Black Piranha in Remote Amazon Tributary

Jeremy Wade travels to a remote Amazon tributary to escape decades of overfishing and search for giant catfish capable of dragging victims to their deaths. His efforts are disrupted by an aggressive predator lurking in dark waters, which turns out to be a black piranha far larger than those caught downstream, with powerful jaws capable of serious damage.

Jeremy Wade UNCOVERS the Amazon Apocalypse! | River Monsters Animal Planet. | Transcript:

I head to a remote tributary of the Amazon to escape the impact of decades of overfishing and find giant catfish capable of dragging their victims to their deaths. But my attempts are thwarted by an aggressive predator lurking in the dark waters of the river. The attack feels like that of a piranha, but 10 times larger than the ones I've caught downstream. Well, that's what's been eating my bait. It's a really big black piranha. Just look at the size of that head. The power of those jaws. Now, a piranha of this size could cause serious damage. It makes the red-bellied ones I've caught before look small. So, could a bank of these beasts be the culprit?

Fortunately, they are not usually found in concentrations of small red-bellied piranhas. And another thing is that, in reality, they are very rare in the main river. So I'm pretty sure she wasn't involved in the events of that night. It measures 17 inches long and 19 inches in circumference. And at over 6.5 pounds, it's the biggest piranha I 've ever caught. If my finger had been in the way, I would have lost it. If piranhas of this size are at the bottom of the food chain, I wonder what's at the other end. I'll have to keep fishing to find out what tipped the scales of survival against the passengers of the Sobral Santos. For days I follow the winding turns of this river northwards, towards the remote border with Venezuela.

Finally, a fin flash on the surface shows that I'm on target. This is the pirarara. Better known as the Amazon redtail catfish. Its name comes from the word for fish, "pir", and the word for parrot, "arara", because its fins resemble the plumage of the scarlet macaw. Out of the water they grunt, but they also make this squeaking sound. It's one bone clicking against another bone. And I can only imagine that's for communicating underwater. They normally live in low visibility conditions, hence their whiskers, but this gives them another channel of communication. Besides its color, the most striking feature of the red-tailed hawk is its enormous head, about a third of its total length.

Wide mouth, very spacious oral cavity, many small teeth that form a kind of sandpaper-like pads. So, one here, another on the lower jaw. It is very good at holding its prey, whatever it catches. As you can see, my finger is a little scraped. I scraped my finger there. But I still have too many unanswered questions to condemn redtail just yet. If these predators were involved, what role exactly did they play? I know they can grow to a size where they could easily swallow half a human leg. And I felt more than enough strength to drag someone down. But what is it about their way of acting that could explain the carnage and so many people disappearing so quickly, so close to the shore? The only way to find out is to keep fishing.

pulling one redtail after another. Oh. But in order to catch the fish, I have to face them in an underwater battlefield full of traps with branches that repeatedly destroy my tackle. Look at that. She simply cut herself on some sharp piece of wood down there . As the fish enter, I begin to get an idea of what happens underwater. And it seems they really like being near obstacles. Well, not just nearby. They like to be right inside these fallen trees. I could feel it brushing against a branch down there. So, basically, he cut himself on a branch. But fishing through these nightmarish obstacles has revealed the answer I seek. Every time a redtail takes the bait, it runs straight to the heart of the branches in search of refuge. I've

had a couple of bites that stopped just as I was getting ready to tighten the line. And it looks like a fish that perhaps took the bait and let it go. And this says something about the catfish's behavior, which is to grab the food and then run away with it. When I try to reel in the line, I discover that it hasn't let go. It's simply sunk to the bottom. It's a bit like a dog running to its basket with a bone. But in certain circumstances, this behavior can have lethal consequences. If a catfish clings to something that swims, if it's someone's foot with moving toes and the fish grabs it, it will drag everything down with it. The whole person will come with the catfish. Okay, I might let it go eventually. But in

that time, that could mean the difference between staying afloat and drowning. And once the victim is underwater, the sharp-toothed predators and scavengers of the Amazon can move in to finish the job. To be sure of my theory, I need to produce a beast that is clearly capable of swallowing a limb. I need to try one more capture with what's left of my equipment. You might be about to get more than you bargained for. Oh, yes. This is a good-sized fish. Stay well away from the line. The beast is not a heavy redstart, but a piraiba weighing over 45 kilos.

This shows that these crystal-clear waters are patrolled not just by one type of giant predatory catfish, but by two. And both were found in Óbidos. But there's a problem. The hook has sunk very deep into the mouth. And I need to get it out . I'm going to reach in to take out the hook. He's going to bite me. It bit my arm. But this extreme opportunity to feel the bite of a large catfish gives me the final proof I need. Piriibas are in the same family as redstarts and have virtually identical rasping pads in their mouths. This gives them a grip that prevents their slippery, struggling prey from escaping. A grip far superior to that of human hands. And a grip that I now know would have no problem holding onto

prey in the dark waters of Óbidos the night the boat sank. Thirty years ago in Óbidos, they used to attract fish to the water with waste from the processing plant. I believe these exceptional conditions may have attracted the usually solitary piraiba in greater numbers than normal. And they were far from alone. There were also hordes of giant, emboldened redstarts. And these were fish accustomed to catching bites in the water. A bloody foot or someone's arm is quite conceivable. They would catch him. Thinking it's an edible snack. And if you think about how little it takes to make the difference between keeping your head above water and sinking, it's very little.

More Entertainment Transcript