The Great American Road Trip
by Ciaran Flannery, Assistant Producer, Urban/Rivers team
Austin
As one of two Americans working on Human Planet, I was immediately suspicious when I was told I had two shoots to direct in the USA. This could be a good way of getting rid of me I thought, merely steal my Irish passport and I’m stuck back home. Fortunately my Human Planet colleagues are far too scrupulous to think up such a nefarious scheme, so I set out for Austin, Texas at the end of August to film the world’s largest urban bat colony for the “Urban” programme.
Austin prides itself on being weird and funky, and my mission was to capture that as well as the spectacular emergence of the bat colony from under the Congress St Bridge. Days were spent lining up shoots and nights were spent capturing the flavour of the city – particularly the self-given moniker “Live Music Capital of the World.”
Here I am, preparing for a long road trip
I arranged to see one of my country music heroes – Billy Joe Shaver, who was playing a show at a beer garden. I was in rock and roll cowboy heaven. The morning of the show, I pulled back the blinds of my hotel room and looked out on a biblical deluge. The epic Austin drought had ended, and now the city was filled with buckets of rain. Billy Joe couldn’t even make it down from Waco for the show. And worse, the bats now wouldn’t need to come out early. Monsoon rain poured for the next three days – which is what we needed in India a month earlier on another shoot…
Estes Park
Policeman on a scooter in Estes Park
Off to Colorado to film elk in Estes Park. Because Estes is just outside Rocky Mountain National Park, the town gets thronged with tourists, especially on the weekends. And tourists love to ask what you are doing, especially right when you are filming. This routine had endless variations, but my favourite was when a heavy set gentleman in a cowboy hat clambered out of his Texas-plated pickup and stopped to stare at us. My cameraman and I were carrying the HD camera and tripod to set up and film elk interrupting a golf game. “Where y’all from? The radio station?” he asked.
Detroit
The Detroit City skyline today
The shoots now over, I sent the kit and footage back to the UK with my cameraman and headed off to recce Detroit. I had read about Detroit and seen photos of its urban decay, but nothing prepared me for the devastation of the city. Thousands of acres of the city are abandoned. You can drive for blocks without seeing a building. And then the buildings you do see are burned out shells. 19th century timber baron mansions have forests growing out of them.
Trash burning in Detroit
The city was once the world’s wealthiest and now classic art deco masterpieces lie empty. The factories of Motown and the Arsenal of Democracy during WWII are silent, save for the sounds of scavenging brick farmers – people who pull the bricks from the walls to sell at salvage yards. In some neighbourhoods there are now more pheasant than people – an apt example for our “Urban” programme, showing how quickly nature colonises abandoned cities. I’ve been to slums all over the world. I’ve filmed in the Lower 9th in New Orleans after Katrina. And the only place I’ve ever been that compares to Detroit is Kabul.
Ottawa
My last stop on the never-ending North American road trip was for the “Rivers” programme and hit close to home. I was born in Canada (yes, it gets confusing – American and Canadian with an Irish passport), and just before spring in the Canadian capital of Ottawa they blow up the ice on the river, and set a frozen waterfall free. As a boy, I was warned to stay away from the Rideau River, which flowed just behind my house – don’t go near the ice when spring blasting season happens. Here I was, almost 30 years later, recceing my old neighborhood. As I walked around the neighborhood I stopped by my old house, where I used to skate after school, where my dad taught me to play baseball, where I knocked the wind out of me jumping my bike, and where I used to throw crabapples at buses. It was a sweet ending to a long road trip.
Rideau Falls, Ottawa
Cardiff Coda
Finally, it was time to fly back to the UK. Completely exhausted, I landed at Heathrow and was shuttled back to Cardiff. All the way I was dreaming about the joys of climbing into my bed and sleeping comfortably before rejoining the office rat race. As I let myself into my flat, a neighbour came up to me. “Are you Ciaran?” “Yes”. “Well I have a strange story for you. While you were gone my cat got into your house for 5 days – I got him out, but I don’t know what kind of mess he made.” The cat hadn’t made much of a mess, but he did choose a choice spot – smack in the middle of my mattress. Ahh! the relationship between man and nature in the Urban environment indeed – no rest for the weary!
Waiting for Kudu
by Tuppence Stone, Director/ Producer, Grasslands and Deserts team
On location in Namibia
The enthusiasm of the first dawn was tangible. We rebuilt the grass hide, destroyed by elephants the night before, and I saw our cameraman Toby Strong plus camera and the two Bushmen hunters, Nao and Kun, creep inside. Their view of the waterhole was good and there were fresh kudu, oryx and ostrich tracks around. Arno, our guide, and I withdrew to observe as safety cover and I set up to film second camera – concentrating on the wildlife shoots, to complement Toby’s main action.
I spent hours crouched on a sloping grass-topped earth bank, craning my neck to see anything that might come into the waterhole without giving myself away. The sun was hot and I was shrouded by a camouflage string scarf which allowed me to see, but broke up my outline. Silence and stillness stretched through the hours. Parts of my body went to sleep, then pins and needles poked me alert again.
It is impossible to remain totally focused when there is precious little to focus on. I found my eyes wandering as I noticed the tiny action going on around my hiding place. Termites in their hundreds were crawling through the grass around me, nipping the stems into tiny lengths and posting it down the holes. Given long enough they would expose me..
A bull elephant gets dangerously close to the hide (on the right)
It was great to have a role, but I knew I couldn’t jeopardise the crucial shot. If my actions spooked the wildlife, the hunters would not get a chance at their shot, then our story wouldn’t begin. Straining to see ostrich through the camouflage, I froze as they looked in my direction. The camera was recording, though it was above my head and the angle I had to twist to see the screen quickly became painful. I fought the aches, until the giant birds lumbered away.
The first day passed into sunset, without success. By Day Three the enthusiasm had passed, pessimism was rife and the wind had changed. The heat of the first day had been superseded by a blustery wind which carried our smell across the waterhole. This unseasonable weather was not what we needed. When the kudu approached they were edgy, and fewer came because the cooler air reduced their desire to drink.
Yet, slowly they came in, stepping, looking – again I froze. Again the mud bank crumbled under my inclined boots, again I strained to see the screen. With the bright light I couldn’t be sure they were in focus. I cursed and ever so slowly slipped my hand up under the scarf to adjust the camera. It’s tiring on the eyes to look through so many layers of focus: the weave of the scarf, the near grasses masking my face, then the middle distant brush and beyond that the approaching kudu. The concentration is intense. The kudu came closer. But then they stepped into the invisible zone where our smell tainted the air. They stamped, reeled round and were gone. No shot fired. No images today.
Toby, Nao and Kun in the hide
Day Three did bring a real surprise though. A leopard came into the waterhole at mid day, and it was intrigued by the hide. Slowly, slowly it approached the mound of grass, probably because it saw the potential of this cover as a good place to lie in wait. But the bushmen certainly didn’t want a leopard in the hide with them. Toby, sitting behind then, noticed their buttocks quivering alarmingly. As it wandered to within 20ft they lost their cool, shouted and crawled out of the hide to scare it – Kun pushed the younger Nao out in front of him, then clung to him as they saw off the predator. They didn’t seem such fearless hunters at that moment.
By Day Five we had changed our tactics. The wind had turned again, but the temperature remained low. The hunter’s hide was moved closer in and the morning doves in their hundreds didn’t mind the intrusion – but would the game be as relaxed? Arno and I had backed off further, initially to a distant hide and then the penthouse platform. So far from the action that binoculars were my only connection. But through them I willed the kudu into the waterhole. I was willing them to their death. Was it bloodthirsty, was I hard hearted? I cherish and respect wildlife, so shouldn’t I will the game to flee?
Nao softens the glue to repair an arrow Toby trod on
Though we had asked the bushmen to hunt in our time frame, the fact they were hunting was not unusual. If an animal was killed it would be because of us, yet if we were not there attempting to record the hunt, a different animal would have been taken by the hunters. Any kill is the only meat the bushmen families eat and a carcass provides a feast for the whole village as well as sinew for bow strings and twine, skins for bags and bone marrow to eat as well as knuckle bowls for preparing poison. What Nao and Kun were aiming to do was more honest than my weekly trip to the supermarket. Imagine how far our consumption of meat would go down if we had to sit for a week to catch that lamb or that cow, and then share it amongst our whole community!
Capturing the sounds of the grasslands
Finally 2 male kudus with statuesque horns sauntered in. They came closer and the wind was kind.. The kudu were alert, frozen, staring at the hide for the longest time. This is your chance guys – do it! do it! I yelled in a whisper inside my head. But the males retreated, grazing close by for over an hour.
I could relax, stretch, move around because I was so far away, but I knew in the hide they would be frozen, silent, stealing glances, easing apart the grasses to make way for a shot. After what seemed like an eternity the males came closer again. Close enough to shoot surely. I saw the kudu react, turn, run, stop and look back. A shot had been fired, but missed. Our waiting continued.
A red headed weaver bird in its 'hide' near our platform lookout
60 hours stretched to near 70 before another opportunity. A group of females were tentative, smelling and sensing something strange, but unsure quite what the nature of the danger was. A warthog ambled into the frame – likely to blow the hunter’s cover with its superior sense of smell. But instead of disaster, he was the perfect decoy. Drinking casually from the waterhole, he was oblivious to the hunters just feet away.
The kudu began to drink, the tension rose as I watched but could not influence events. Just as with the males, I saw them react and flee, but this time the walkie talkie crackled into life ‘It’s a hit, perhaps two’, said Toby, with real elation. The waiting was over.
Nao takes aim
Nao had wounded his first kudu. His excitement was genuine and proud. But the hunt was still far from in the can. From here on we were no longer dependent on luck to bring the animals to us, but on the Bushmen’s skills as trackers to keep us on the trail. What we witnessed can be seen in the Grasslands programme, but needless to say – it didn’t go according to plan.
Toilets, Tyres and No Tiaras
A Life in the Day of a Production Coordinator
by Isabelle Corr, Production Coordinator, Deserts and Grasslands
I’m sure a lot of you are now getting bored with reading about the fabulous places that all the crew get to visit and would love to know how the rest of the crew left behind in the office pass their days? .. It might not be very exciting but it might make you feel better!
Being the Production Coordinator (PC) for the Human Planet Deserts and Grasslands team means I’ve certainly got my work cut out! So what exactly do I do all day? …. Well, apart from contracting the freelance cameramen, sound recordists, rope access experts, general foreign fixers etc, there’s the health and safety on location to organise, the varied travel arrangements for both crew and kit, insurances for crew and kit, complicated insurance claims, scheduling and budgeting (that’s telling my team what they can and can’t afford to do).
I have also had on occasion to:-
Organise special insurance for horses in Namibia in case they get eaten by hyenas during the night! (apparently a common occurrence)
Approve expenses for a 4×4 tyre that was eaten by a Lion while the researcher was sitting in the vehicle
Organise the last minute shipment of a replacement Varicam camera to the Masai Mara in Kenya. We were told of the broken camera by the crew mid morning and managed to get the replacement on that evening’s flight to Nairobi!
So who can I thank for making that work for us?
Well, let’s start with Sam at Visual Impact or Dave at Films@59 who get me replacement kit in record time. Then, once I have my hands on the camera, I send the serial numbers to BBC shipping. Julie in the Bristol post room organises a courier to pick up the camera and take it straight to BBC shipping in Hayes. Once there, Geoff arranges the essential kit list for UK and Kenyan customs. The camera is then put on the next flight from Heathrow to Nairobi. Luckily for us, this time there was an internal flight to one of the landing strips in the Mara the following morning. Our Kenyan Fixer was able to pick up the camera, get it though Kenyan customs super quick and the crew got their replacement camera just in time to catch an exciting lion hunt!
Some of the challenges of the job are less predictable. Today I have been in discussion with the accommodation provider in North Africa, who tells me that he has spent some of the deposit money I sent him at great expense through Western Union on new “western-style toilets” for the crew so they won’t have to use the existing “hole in the ground”. I told him that the crew were well used to slumming it on location and certainly did not need the excessive comfort of western-style “sitting down” toilets. But it was too late, they have already been plumbed in!
So the sad fact is, the PCs on Human Planet are always too busy preparing for the next shoot and sorting out things going wrong on location to be able to go on a shoot themselves. Although they do keep promising that I will leave the Broom Cupboard one day! So maybe my next blog will be far more interesting than these moanings from the office.. I bet you can’t wait!
The Ape that Got Lucky
by Dale Templar, Series Producer
I have just submitted my copy for the “Human Planet” series book which will be published in 2011 to accompany the series. I was tasked with writing the opening chapter, which tracks the journey of Homo Sapiens across all the eight landscapes that we go to in the series. While the series is not looking at the ascent of man, this chapter gave me the chance to go back in time and really look at all the key factors that led to our unstoppable march across the whole planet.
The series looks at man’s relationship with the natural world and it was not until I got stuck into the research for this chapter that it really dawned on me just how big a part climate change has played in our phenomenal success as a species.
Just this morning on the news there was a report of an incredible archaeological find, another missing link in the chain that follows the evolutionary journey from Ape to Homo Sapiens. The main find is of a female, nicknamed “Ardi”. Just like the famous “Lucy”, this new skeleton was also found in Ethiopia, this time not in the southern Omo valley but in the far northern Afar region. This new animal is called Ardipithecus ramidus and is thought to be some 4.4 million years old and possibly a direct common ancestor of humans.
This brings me back to climate change. The American scientists who have been working at this site believe that when “Ardi” was romping around Afar she was living in a woodland area. Just like chimps today, she would have nested in the trees but she was far more bipedal than even the bonobo. Today the Afar is well known for being one of the hottest places on earth. A dry, largely barren, hostile desert, where only the hardiest of humans eke out an existence.
As the climate changed and rainforest contracted, the walking apes moved further and further into the expanding grasslands. With that, the skeletons of the early hominids evolved to cope with a land-based life. That set of circumstances also allowed our brains to develop and increase in size.
Finally modern humans evolved, some 200 thousand years ago. Here was an ape with such a big brain that it could use its intelligence to adapt and survive in every environment on earth without having to evolve into a new species (well, not so far anyway!). Antarctica is the only place that humans have not yet claimed as an official human habitat.
Every month the teams come back with incredible stories of human ingenuity, adaptation and skill from all over the Human Planet. I know we were the Ape that just got lucky, but what an incredible ape we are!
For more info on “Ardi” go to the BBC News web site http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/8285180.stm
