Wild Colombia - Fantastic Creatures | The Lost Eden | Free Documentary Nature

Colombia, a magical land of wildly diverse landscapes, where mirror-like wetlands, fringe verdant rainforests, mangroves meander through vast grasslands, and snow-capped mountain peaks emerge from misty jungle-clad slopes. Within its boundaries can be found one-tenth of the world's species, making Colombia one of the most biodiverse countries on Earth. But what has made this wild land an evolutionary paradise? Colombia is truly unique. Crowning South America, it's the only country on the continent that's both bathed by the waters of the Caribbean Sea and washed by the Pacific Ocean. The soaring peaks of the Andes, one of the world's greatest mountain ranges, carve through the length of its landscape like a great backbone, while its lowlands are shaped by two of the planet's mightiest rivers, the Amazon and the Orinoco. Even its climate is dramatically diverse, from the dry heat of its deserts to the humidity of its jungles and the freezing cold of its mountain regions. We start our journey here, in the vast savannas and gallery forests of Colombia's northeastern Orinoco River Basin, one of the world's richest tropical grasslands. This one region is home to approximately the same number of bird species as found in the entire United States, and more than 100 species of mammal. But for some of the creatures living here, paradise comes at a cost. During the May to October rainy season, parts of the savanna can be covered in over three feet of floodwater. So wildlife here has had to evolve to cope. This stocky creature is the capybara, South America's version of the hippopotamus. Standing over one and a half feet tall and weighing as much as a man, this semi-aquatic pig-like mammal is actually the world's largest living rodent. As agile in water as it is on land, the capybara's partially webbed feet make it an excellent swimmer. It can remain completely submerged for up to five minutes. Abilities it needs to use to evade its main predator, the spectacled caiman. Named for the bony ridge between their eyes, these small crocodilians flourish in the Orinoco floodplains. They'll eat anything they can get their large strong jaws around. And whilst adult capybara are too big to catch, babies make a hearty meal. Realising that one of her pups has become separated from the group, a mother calls out a warning. Too late. For every 20 capybara babies born on these savannas, only one will survive to adulthood. But this family's loss is another's gain. With her belly full, this female spectacled caiman has returned to her nest. For the past three months, she and her mate have been on guard duty. Chirps from deep beneath the leaf litter inform her that the waiting is almost over. Caiman nests could contain as many as 40 eggs. Instinct draws the hatchlings to the safety of the river. Although they can already hunt by themselves, their mother will continue to protect them for the next four months. The time it takes for the floods of the wet season to subside. Spectacled caiman dominate much of Colombia's waterways. But to the south, in the endless network of tributaries of the Amazon rainforest, it meets its match in one of South America's top carnivores. The giant otter, known as the river wolf, can reach six feet in length. These highly social animals live in extended family groups of up to 10 individuals and are expert at hunting fish. With voracious appetites, an adult can devour seven to nine pounds a day of the 3,000-odd freshwater species that inhabit these waters. It's exhausting work. But in the predator-packed environment of the Amazon rainforest, no creature can afford to drop its guard for long. The alarm calls of their pups are alerting the adults to the presence of a caiman in the water beneath their den. The mother needs to move her pups to safety as quickly as possible, while the other adults work together to see off the waiting predator. First sizing it up, then moving in to attack. In the face of their relentless onslaught, in search of easier prey. The Colombian Amazon, part of the largest tropical rainforest on the planet, covers the entire southeastern half of Colombia. One of the Earth's natural wonders, it's also its greatest biological reservoir. One in 10 of the planet's known species lives in this vast, remote jungle. Among them, one of its largest predators. The jaguar is the biggest carnivore in the Americas, growing to six feet in length and weighing over 300 pounds. It has the strongest bite of all big cats, twice the strength of a lion's, and sits at the top of the rainforest's food chain. But not all carnivores here are heavyweights. Amazon jungle predators come in all shapes and sizes. Despite being comparatively small, army ants are responsible for more deaths in the rainforest than any other creature. Colonies like this one can contain more than a million individuals, and a new generation of ant larvae deep inside this temporary nest are in need of food. So the hunt begins. Scouts are the first to fan out across the forest floor, laying down pheromones for the rest to follow. Wherever there are gaps in the trail, worker ants link to form living bridges. Giant soldiers guard the hunting highway. These powerful pincers aren't used for foraging, but for fighting. As the colony sweeps across the forest floor, the casualties begin to stack up. Powerful stings subdue their prey, before it's dismembered and carried back to the nest to feed their young. A single swarm can kill up to 30,000 victims a day. It's a stark reminder that the wild world of the Amazon rainforest is an intensely competitive environment, where life is a constant battle for survival. Colombia has more bird species than any other country on the planet. From the humid mangroves of its coastline, to its towering snow-capped Andean peaks, the diversity is breathtaking. This is the Andean condor. With a 10-foot wingspan, this species of vulture is the second largest land-flying bird on the planet. Using thermal currents from the mountains, it spends most of its day gliding effortlessly, scanning the ground below for animal carcasses. In these cloud-cloaked mountains, the majestic condor is the master. But Colombia's most striking bird group is to be found not in these chilly peaks, but in the layer of cloud forests that envelop its Andean mountain slopes. The hummingbirds. High altitude causes the nights to be cold and the days to be damp. And as a result, not many insects can survive. So minuscule hummingbirds have become the most important pollinators of plants here. They hover in position, their wings beating over 70 times a second, and their hearts at a thousand beats per minute. To power this incredible metabolism, the hummingbird must drink its own weight in nectar every day. Many plants have evolved to attract these aerial acrobats. Each species of hummingbird feeds from a specific flower. And bills are specially adapted for getting at the nectar inside. As a result, there are more hummingbird species in Colombia's Andean cloud forests than anywhere else on Earth. This world of mists and unending rains has a plant diversity which is equally impressive. One group has thrived more than any other. Orchids. It's thought that Colombia is home to one-fifth of the planet's species. Breathtaking. They bloom in a myriad of forms, colors, and settings. The corianthes, or bucket orchid, has formed a special relationship with the ant nests that hang from the forest canopy. Tended to by thousands of workers, its roots provide the nest with a framework on which to grow. And in return, these gardeners zealously protect the orchid from predators and provide it with nutrients from the food they collect. These ant gardens are the only environment on which the orchid can flourish and bloom. And when it does, flowering for only two to three days a year, it has no time to waste. Wafting its scent through the air, the tailor-made fragrance floats on the breeze. Luring in male orchid bees from as far as 30 miles away. The aroma of the bucket orchid, which they'll collect and concoct into a perfume to attract a mate, is irresistible to them. As more and more males approach, airspace becomes crowded. But this orchid has a hidden agenda. Drops fall from its unique water-producing organs and gather in the bucket-shaped portion of the flower. A bee strays closer and closer, hypnotized by the scent. Until he's caught in the orchid's deceitful trap. Smooth, waxy walls give no purchase, and soapy water clings to his wings, causing them to become useless. Imprisoned in the bucket, the unwilling bee has only one escape. Struggling through the narrow, slippery tunnel, it passes under the orchid's reproductive organs, where it becomes stuck. Only specific species of bee can pollinate the orchid. Too large, and they can't escape. Too small, and they pass through too easily. But this one is just the right size. Pollen sac becomes glued to its back. Drying his wings, the bee's ordeal is finally over. He's so traumatized that he won't approach this flower again, preventing self-pollination. Instead, he unknowingly transports his payload to a new orchid in another part of the forest. One more example of the myriad interspecies relationships that exist in Colombia's many unspoiled ecosystems. Colombia's landscape is dominated by natural forests. And whether down on the floor, or high up in the canopy, they team with life. Of the 36 species of monkey that inhabit the treetops, the versatile brown capuchin is one of the most widespread. This troop of around 15 are basking in the early morning sun. It isn't long before hunger kicks in. Tree-burrowing insects are a favorite food. Others capitalize on the abundance of forest fruits available all year round. Inadvertently, these forest primates enrich their habitat by scattering the undigested seeds of the fruits they eat. But dispersal of these seeds is even greater thanks to another much smaller and less conspicuous creature. Some of which come out at night. Dung beetles are found in abundance here in Colombia. They are the kings of secondary seed dispersal. Getting precious seeds out of dung and away from seed predators. Monkeys tend to defecate most at dawn and dusk, and these eager beetles are waiting. Within just a few minutes, and from a great distance away, they have detected the fresh aroma and zeroed in to the exact spot. Primate dung is an important resource for them. They need it to reproduce. These dung beetles are tunnelers. Taking dung far underground, they lay an egg on it, and the larva that hatches has all the food it needs to grow. Dung beetles are especially important in forests which have been fragmented by man. By moving and burying seeds, these beetles take things one step further. They are, in effect, replanting trees. Shrouded in mist, Colombia's dank West Andean rainforests are the wettest on Earth. Frequent rainstorms batter the landscape. But for some, all this water is an opportunity. As the last drips drop from the treetops, male gliding leaf frogs parachute from the canopy. Spreading wide, they race to take advantage of the temporary pools of water in the foliage below. As more and more males arrive, they begin to call en masse, signalling their presence to one another. Soon, the larger females follow in search of a mate. Outnumbered, they are buried under the advances of the eager suitors. Gripping onto the female's back, a male has hit his mark. Here, humidity can reach 100%. In such wet conditions, there is no need to take the leap to the predator-filled pools below. Instead, they spawn on the smooth leaves, suspended up to 26 feet above the water. Protected in their gelatinous pockets, the embryonic tadpoles enter the most rapid period of growth in their lives. What began as a small white ball soon becomes a wriggling mass. As their systems become more complex, exterior gills develop. Extending them, the tadpoles rotate to ensure that they are as close to the surface as possible. Until, less than a week after being spawned, they explode out of the egg, sliding and leaping over their relatives to get to the pool of water below. Like its father before it, it takes a leap into the great unknown. Falling 26 feet, the equivalent of a person jumping from just under 10 times the height of the Empire State Building. And so the circle of life goes on. Columbia is an amphibian paradise. Home to over 750 recorded species, new ones continue to be found. Dart frogs hop through the leaf litter in search of their next meal. Brightly coloured, they stand tall amongst the leaves. Unlike their tree canopy dwelling cousins, these individuals have little to fear from predators. Their skin acts as a beacon, warning attackers to stay away. And with good reason. Dart frogs are some of the most poisonous vertebrates on Earth. And what's even more surprising is the source of their terrible toxin. Scientists believe that it's a product of their diet of insects. In particular, ants. Seeping from microscopic pores, each frog contains enough of the potent poison known as batrachotoxin to kill over 140 people. But some still take the risk. To the Embera and Wunan tribes of Columbia's Pacific Coast rainforest, this toxicity is a resource. For centuries, they've harvested the toxin to tip their darts, giving poison dart frogs their name. One false move could end in convulsions, paralysis and death. There is no known antidote. While the other two species used by the tribes die in the process of poison extraction, the golden dart frog is so virulent that the dart only needs to touch its back to turn into a lethal weapon. Each frog will be used for two to three darts before it's released. Once dry, he stores the darts in his quiver. They can remain lethal for up to two years if unused. But this tribesman has other plans. He must hunt to feed his family. Amongst the vast array of species with which Columbia's indigenous peoples share their wild paradise are some ancient giants. From the biggest turtle on Earth, the prehistoric leatherback nesting on the country's gentle Caribbean beaches, to the largest fish on the planet, the ancient whale shark cruising its plankton-rich Pacific waters. But one of the most bizarre is a mammal. The giant anteater, which can reach six feet from the tip of its snout to the end of its tail, roams the forests and grasslands of northern Columbia. Designed solely to eat ants and their preferred prey, termites, the huge claws of its front feet are perfectly engineered for tearing open their cement-like nests. But the longest third claw gives the anteater a problem. It makes walking tricky, so it's evolved to move around on its knuckles. The head of this bizarre creature is mainly its nose, a bony tube which houses a tongue over 20 inches long, ideal for reaching its prey. As the anteater's claws rip open gaping holes, invaded termites try their best to defend their home, but they have little effect. Sticky with thick saliva, it uses its tongue to hoover up its tiny prey. Anteaters have no teeth or proper jaws, so they rely on grit in their stomach to break down their food. Up to 30,000 insects can be consumed in one day. When it's time to rest, it remains at ground level, safe in the knowledge that its claws make it a formidable opponent for any predator. Much of the life in Columbia's forests is concentrated in the leafy world known as the canopy, which offers not only food and shelter, but also a hiding place from predators. Unlike its cousin, the giant anteater, the tamandua is a smaller species that's perfectly adapted to life in the country's dense Amazon rainforests. It has a semi-prehensile tail, which acts as a fifth limb, making life amongst the branches easy. Spending much of its time in the safety of the canopy, it preys on tree-living termites and ants. But when it does come down to the ground to forage, the tamandua needs to remain vigilant. Boa constrictors, one of Columbia's 100 reptiles, are more than capable of taking one. This tamandua has had a lucky escape. Here in the canopy, high above the forest floor, one creature has chosen a unique way to avoid most ground-dwelling predators. The sloth moth spends almost its entire life living among the coarse fur of its tree-dwelling host. There can be over a hundred, taking refuge on a single animal. Nutrient-rich algae growing on the sloth's outer coat provides the moths with a constant supply of food. It also offers a degree of camouflage, which ultimately benefits both creatures. Because their main food source is the vegetation of the forest canopy, sloths rarely venture down to the ground. Leaves aren't easy to digest, so sloths have developed large, slow-acting stomachs to break down their tough cellulose diet. This digestive process can take more than a month to complete. Even a visit to the bathroom happens in slow motion. Just once a week, sloths and their freeloading passengers descend to the forest floor. It's not entirely sure why they choose to defecate directly on the ground. Some scientists speculate they're trying to avoid detection through the sound of dung landing from a height. Business begins, and once done, the female moths jump ship. For a brief moment, they leave their host, depositing eggs in the freshly laid dung. Soon, new larvae will hatch and feed before they eventually pupate. They'll then fly up to the canopy to reside in a sloth moth home of their own. Aside from defecating, sloths will also leave the trees to take a dip. Surprisingly strong swimmers during the rainy season, this enables them to move through the forest up to three times faster. And if needs be, they can hold their breath underwater for up to 40 minutes. But leaving the safety of the canopy often comes at a price, especially when entering the realm of one of the Amazon's most formidable predators. Green anacondas can reach a length of over 30 feet and weigh over 500 pounds. They are the heaviest snakes in the world. Although slow and cumbersome on land, in water, they are fast and agile. Even the jaguar gives this aquatic predator a wide berth. A forked tongue enables the snake to taste the air in stereo, while sensitive skin detects the faintest of vibrations through ground and water. It's almost impossible for the sloth to enter the river unnoticed. Makes its move. Grasping the sloth in its jaws, it coils around its prey, crushing and suffocating it. Before eating it whole. Like sloths, green anacondas also have a slow metabolism. This latest meal could take more than four weeks to fully digest. One of the countless life and death dramas that constantly unfold in a world that teems with life. Colombia, a land of vast natural contrast. Within whose boundaries lie some of the last great regions of unspoiled wilderness on the planet. Making it home to a staggering variety of wildlife. A natural paradise and one of the most biodiverse countries on earth.