Natural World (1983) s29e02 Episode Script

1 She has travelled a thousand miles to see me.
Her journey has made her tired and weak.
As she nears Victoria Falls, she becomes shallow and wide and she brings life to this place.
Her name is Zambezi and this is my home.
Victoria wakes her up.
Together they fall into the abyss.
They dance and shout, throwing rainbows high into the air.
We call this place Mosi-o-Tunya - "the smoke that thunders".
As Zambezi emerges into the Batoka Gorge, she is alive again, carving through the rocks, dark and sleek.
Here, she's not so easy to live with and few animals choose to make a life here, but Zambezi brings me everything I need.
She is my greatest friend.
She holds a million secrets beneath her waters, revealing a few to each of us, so we may survive here.
Today, she is quiet.
But this story begins many months ago.
It had rained every day for nine weeks.
Zambezi was full and Victoria became a monster.
She breathed clouds of spray a mile high above the gorge.
This is where our story begins.
My name is Mr White and I am a fisherman.
I live in the village of Songwe.
It is a small village on the edge of the Batoka Gorge.
This year will be hard.
Ah, it is too wet! All of my crops have drowned and died.
With so much rain, fishing is tough.
But I try every day.
I need to catch many fish to feed my family.
I have seven daughters, eight sons and three wives.
People use many fancy words and numbers when they talk about Victoria.
But words mean nothing when you are near her.
She grabs you and shakes you to your bones.
on the edge of the world.
When she is angry like this, many animals leave this place.
Those that remain live secret lives, hidden in her mists.
But for some, life could not be better.
Ah, the old snaggle-toothed male - King Baboon! His troop lives in the valley next to the falls.
Like me, he has a big family, but they don't have empty bellies.
The mists from Victoria keep many trees in fruit and the troop well fed.
So, unlike most baboons, they don't have to travel far to find food.
At this time of the year, life is good if you are a baboon.
Some say that baboons are just like people.
Too much time on their hands makes them bored.
BABOONS SCREECH In such a big family, there are always disagreements.
In the months to come, when the dry season arrives, it will be tough for the baboons.
But for now it is a time to play, or just sit and watch the world go by.
By March, the rains have finally stopped.
Zambezi is still ferocious, but soon she will begin to relax and life will return.
Maybe she looks smaller here, cramped between the walls of the gorge, but she is deep - oh, so, so deep! They say that above Victoria the crocodiles have teeth, but down here, it is Zambezi who has the teeth.
If I fell in, she would swallow me and I would be gone.
She is still too angry to give me many fish.
The rain has made the water cold and the fish are hiding.
But I have learned to read her waters.
I know all of her pools and eddies.
I know where she hides her fish.
This is my favourite spot - below rapid number nine.
I have fished here since 1947.
I am happy when I am with Zambezi.
I know she will give me something and my belly will soon be full.
Above the falls, elephants return to Zambezi, as the land around begins to dry out.
With little food to eat away from the river, the elephants come to Zambezi to feed on the lush grasses that grow on the emerging islands.
They remember where to cross the shallow rapids.
They always cross here.
But the heavy rains have made Zambezi stronger than they have known.
They cannot read her waters like a fisherman and she is too powerful for their little ones.
The adults try to protect the baby from the full flow of the water.
But it is too strong and they are forced to turn back.
They must wait for Zambezi to let them cross.
Ah, my friend Edwin! Like the elephants, he too seeks fresh grasses from the islands above the falls.
He chooses thick stalks - firm and bendy - perfect for catching fish.
He is a craftsman.
Using skills he learned from his father, he makes fine traps to catch fish.
It is how his family has survived for generations.
Edwin knows that when Zambezi is ready, she will bring him a feast.
But for now, he must wait.
In May, Zambezi's power grows weaker as the clouds are burned from the skies.
Victoria's voice grows quiet as mighty Zambezi begins to feel the power of the sun.
We have all been waiting for this moment - all who fish, all who are ruled by the mood of Zambezi.
Even the greatest fisherman of all .
.
the fish eagle must wait for her to calm down.
But now, she is singing again and soon the fish will be coming to us all.
Now the nights are cold, so, so cold.
The river above the falls is lost in mists every morning.
Ah, the skimmers have come home.
Each day, I see more life returning to Zambezi.
The receding waters reveal sandbanks and islands, safe from danger.
They are perfect places to nest.
The bull hippos are displaying now.
Every morning their calls echo across the river, letting other males know who's boss.
There are many hippos above the falls.
They are so, so dangerous.
I prefer to fish the gorge.
But I like to visit Zambezi up here.
Every day she shows me something new.
Split by her many islands, Zambezi has the banks of a dozen small rivers.
As the water drops, these tiny sand-cliffs appear and bee-eaters arrive to dig their homes.
But they must dig fast, before the sun dries the mud as hard as stone.
For such tiny birds, living together must make them feel safe.
So many eyes to see and beaks to defend! A pair of pied kingfishers are also trying to find a space here, safe among the bee-eaters, but they are not welcome.
I think they came too late.
Ah, they will have to look elsewhere.
The largest of all kingfishers, the giant kingfisher, is also busy now.
I like hearing them shouting to each other.
Wherever they choose to raise a family, there must be plenty of fish.
They are wise fishermen, but I think he could be more gentle.
Starting a family can be exhausting.
Ah, they won't bother you.
They are searching for fruits.
They know that this is the time Zambezi gives them palm fruits above the falls.
While one young male sits in the crown of the tree, others wait below for the fruits he drops.
Baboons like the soft outer layer, but they don't like the tough nut inside.
There is not much of a meal in each one, but there are many trees.
Life on the river is all about timing.
Understanding Zambezi's mood so she doesn't catch you out.
The fish eagles are here early this year.
Maybe Zambezi tells them something I cannot read in her waters.
It takes them many months to raise their family, so they have to get their timing just right.
Their chicks must learn to fish while Zambezi is shallow and calm before the rains return.
They hunt the open water above the falls and tell anyone who will listen that this is their patch.
They are proud fishermen.
While the mists are still rising, my friend Edwin sets his traps.
This is the time he has been waiting for.
He is fishing for daninga.
He sets his traps at night and collects them in the morning.
It is cold, hard work and he must be careful in the rapids.
The whole village has been waiting for the daninga.
Now, everyone comes to fish where their fathers and grandfathers fished before them.
Edwin can catch a makoro full in one night.
Sometimes I am waiting one month to catch so much fish.
Edwin can't fish for long, just a few short weeks, when the moon is shrinking and the daninga will have gone again.
Ah, this has been a good year for daninga.
So it seems the heavy rains were not bad for everyone.
Baked dry in the sun, they stay fresh and will be good to eat for over a month.
The pied kingfishers are working hard now.
All day long, they pull fish from Zambezi's pools and carry them to a single hole in the river bank.
They have a growing family to feed.
Perhaps they will be OK without the protection of the bee-eaters.
In September, the sun burns hard on the land.
Every day, he drinks Zambezi dry.
Victoria is forced to retreat along the rocks, her thunderous song now just a whisper.
All around, the land is dry.
Only the stubborn mopane trees hold onto their leaves.
Zambezi is now just a snake in the desert.
Now that she has been tamed by the sun, they arrive.
From all over the world, men come here in their rubber boats, and for a few months, the gorge is full of life.
They say it is fun, ha-ha! Above the falls, Zambezi is slow and lazy once again.
A meandering oasis in a sun-baked savannah, her islands the only fresh vegetation for miles around.
Now it is safe for the young ones.
The family can finally swim to the islands to feast on the grasses.
But they are not alone.
Now, the river is alive with elephants.
Hundreds arrive, drawn to Zambezi by her fresh food and cool waters.
Ah, they are normally so serious.
But here they play like children, swimming and splashing while the sun is so hot.
Life isn't so easy for everyone.
Now Zambezi is too weak to bring fish to them, the pied kingfishers must search her shallow pools.
They are spending a long time away from the nest, and it seems someone else has noticed too.
They arrive home a second too late.
The mongoose is a sneaky character and a great danger to all who nest on the riverbank.
Despite their daring acrobatics and sharp beaks, they can do nothing.
They are no match for him and cannot save their chicks.
Perhaps if they had found a place with the bee-eaters, with so many eyes to see and beaks to defend, maybe then the sneaky mongoose would not have made it to their nest.
It is too late for them to nest again.
I hope they will have more luck next year.
Far out on the islands, the skimmers' chicks are safe from the sneaky mongoose.
They hide in the dunes, while their parents hunt the waters above the falls.
Despite their strange looks, skimmers are excellent fishermen.
They hunt by dragging their beaks along the water, snapping up any fish they hit.
But even these skilled fishermen make mistakes.
When Zambezi was full and these islands under the water, it was the hippos who wallowed on these sand banks.
But now, with Zambezi shrinking, they are forced to move into the remaining deeper channels.
Now it seems there are hippos in every pool and the bulls are not happy living near to each other.
So, they show their teeth .
.
and they fight.
People say they are good for fish because men are scared to fish these hippo pools.
I would not fish near here.
Zambezi has dropped to her lowest level, so now my friend Josephat can fish his favourite spot.
It is where his father taught him to fish.
A place where hippos and crocodiles dare not go .
.
to the very edge of the world.
The setting sun brings queleas home to roost.
They fill the sky, singing and dancing as they search for a space to settle for the night.
As their chatter fades away, it is time for me to set my lines for the night.
Betcha goin' fishin' all of your time Baby goin' fishin' too Bet your life, your sweet wife Catch more fish than you Many fish bites if ya got good bait Here's a little tip that I would like to relate Big fish bite if ya got good bait I'm a goin' fishin' Mama's goin' fishin' Baby goin' fishin' too.
The gorge is a wonderful place at night - so quiet.
Sometimes, I sit down here for a month, drinking tea and fishing every night, leaving when I have caught plenty of fish for my family.
Victoria is most beautiful at night.
The lights from Zimbabwe shine through her spray and set her on fire.
Then, as the moon climbs high in the sky, moon rainbows appear and she becomes more beautiful than you can ever imagine.
While life for a fisherman is easy, life becomes hard for the baboons.
Victoria doesn't have the strength to fill their valley with mist and the fruits have all shrivelled and died.
They are forced to eat insects off old leaves and strip seeds from dead grasses.
Youngsters always find time to play.
But the adults are saving their energy.
They have other plans.
Zambezi lies between Zambia and Zimbabwe and all must cross her, on a single bridge, to reach the border.
They say there are bandits here - a fearless gang of thieves.
Zimbabwe has collapsed.
There is little food.
So, every day, hundreds of people cross into Zambia to buy food.
And when they return, the baboons are waiting.
Ah, Mr Mugabe, it seems you help no-one but the baboons! So bold are the baboons that it seems they are now in charge of this border post.
Every vehicle is inspected for an easy meal.
They steal from anyone.
Women and children are easy targets.
Skilled thieves, they size up their victims, only snatching bags they know contain food.
Baboons are powerful animals.
They have big sharp teeth.
It's not worth putting up a fight over a bag of crisps.
Ah, it is tough for the baboons, but they have found a way to survive when Zambezi couldn't provide for them.
If only they knew how to fish! Sitting high in the trees, the fish eagles never let their eyes off the river.
They search for any sign that Zambezi is hiding a fish.
And if they spot one, he is in trouble.
They dive, ah, so, so fast.
They grab him and they're gone.
I would not like to be a fish with them around.
To me, they are the greatest of all the fishermen.
If I could fish like an eagle, I would be rich! Ah, such a big meal! Enough to feed a whole family, which is good, because they have two fat chicks.
For now, the adults must hunt for them.
But soon they will be able to fish for themselves.
The eagles got their timing perfect.
Their chicks can practise hunting in the shallow, clear waters while Zambezi is still low.
They must learn fast, though.
Zambezi's moods are always changing and it won't be long before the rains return and she becomes angry once again.
The river is now so small, there is more land than water above the falls.
It is hard to believe that this year started off so wet.
Then, it seemed it would be hard for all of us who make a living from Zambezi.
But now, as she slides through the shallows, half asleep, the world she has created is more alive than ever.
Ah, soon the awkward skimmer chicks will be ready to fly, ready to fish and to leave this place when Zambezi awakes.
Everyone must be ready when the clouds begin to gather.
Until then, life here is good.
These few short weeks at the end of the dry season are my favourite time.
So much life has come to make a home with my friend Zambezi.
Zambezi is calm now, but I can still hear her whispering to me.
I fear I will not fish here again.
I feel old and I am sick.
The gorge is too steep.
But her story will continue.
The clouds are gathering in the sky.
Soon the rains will return.
Zambezi will again rule this land.
And Victoria will again be magnificent, her voice rising from a whisper to thunder.
When Zambezi carved Victoria from the rocks, she brought life to this place.
For those that understand her, she will always provide.
I have learned a few of her secrets, but there are still many more for others to learn, other stories to be told.
She has been a good friend to me all of my life.
But this is the end of my story and it is time to say goodbye.