Episode 3 Hugh's Wild West

For me, watching wildlife is one of life's greatest pleasures.

And my favourite place to do it is right here

in my beloved West Country.

This captivating corner of the British Isles...

There's six right underneath us.

..has a cast of creatures that's as awe-inspiring,

extraordinary and magical as any.

-Oh! Oh, come on! No way!

-Brilliant.

I'm hoping to get as close as I can to as many as I can...

Right, I'm ready.

This is great, this is measuring an eel.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Ants! Off, off! Oh, there's one inside!

..with the help of a band of dedicated nature lovers.

Some of the patterns on the feathers, they're beautiful.

-Good spot. Look, look, look! Wonderful.

-Oh, that's so cool.

There's one in my hair now, probably.

I'll share the thrill of the chase...

-Do you hear 'em?

-I heard something.

-Yeah.

-They're in there.

-Yes.

..the sheer joy of the encounter...

-Ah! She's so golden.

-She's fast asleep.

It's OK. Shhh!

That's amazing.

..and I'll pitch in to help these local heroes

safeguard the future of our precious animals.

Bye-bye.

There she goes.

Whoa-ho!

I can't believe that I've been living in the West Country

for so many years and I've never done this before.

This will be a year-round adventure...

Straight ahead.

..as we explore the natural wonders of the UK's very own Wild West.

I'm on Dartmoor, among its famous great granite peaks, known as tors.

I love coming up here, it's one of the best views

in the whole of the South West

and one of the truly wild landscapes of Britain.

Dartmoor is the largest area of open moor in southern England.

The unbroken panoramas from these craggy,

granite summits are always breathtaking.

But there's another side of Dartmoor that, for me,

holds an even greater fascination.

In the steep river valleys,

much of the ancient woodland has stood for centuries.

These atmospheric forests hold the key to

survival for many of Dartmoor's most engaging creatures.

And I'm hoping to meet some of them,

as I explore the secrets of Dartmoor's woodland world.

Dartmoor is in southern Devon

and measures 40km from north to south

and from east to west.

The River Dart that gives the moor its name rises here and runs

through ancient Hembury Woods near the town of Buckfastleigh.

The valleys of the River Taw, near the village of Belstone,

are also rich with native broadleaf woodlands.

My fascination with one creature that's brilliantly adapted to

life on Dartmoor begins about an hour away

from the National Park boundary

in a more domestic setting.

This is my garden,

where you'll often find me pottering around of a morning,

catering for the regulars at my bird table breakfast bar.

What am I going to give them this morning?

Same old, same old, I think. Fat balls, nyjer seed.

It's got to a point where, on most days,

the birds get their breakfast before I get my first cup of tea.

Which is a bit extreme.

That's because I like watching the birds

while I drink my first cup of tea.

OK. Right.

I've been feeding the birds in my garden for years.

All right, fellas?

Over time, I've learned how to attract a wide

variety of species by catering for their different tastes -

and it isn't just what they eat, it's how it's served.

There we go.

Who's coming for breakfast?

Straight onto the table.

Oh, a little coal tit.

Lovely.

Ah, here's our nuthatch. He's a very confident fellow.

He usually gets what he wants

and barges the other birds out of the way.

I mean, you wouldn't want a stab from that sharp beak.

But I just love the way he moves.

Look at him.

I don't know how he does that.

It's like he's got glue on his feet.

Here comes the woodpecker.

I knew he'd turn up.

What a beauty.

Well, if you went on a bird-watching holiday in the tropics,

you'd be blown away to see birds that are this colourful,

but we so quickly forget that we've got them right here in the UK.

And recently,

I spotted a new addition to the line-up on my bird table.

Seeing it has become the highlight of my morning routine.

I've even devised a special technique to watch it in comfort.

Here goes.

With the help of a broken fishing rod,

I'm dangling a feeder full of fat balls

just outside my bedroom window

so I get to watch out for the new object of my avian affections

from a particularly comfortable perch.

There's really nothing better on a cold winter's morning

than sitting here all cosy

with my binoculars and my cup of tea,

my bird feeders out, just waiting for the action.

Right on cue.

I knew she wouldn't be able to resist those fat balls for long.

This is the long-tailed tit.

That is very exciting.

Such a beautiful thing.

I've had these bird feeders up here for years

and the first time I saw a long-tailed tit was just a few

months ago and this is only the third or fourth time.

Look at it.

It's such a beautiful bird.

It's like a little ball of fluff with that lovely long tail.

It's only since they started coming here this year that I've had

a close look at them and I'm getting more and more intrigued.

When they're not here at the bird table,

I know very little about what they get up to.

My new-found enthusiasm for the long-tailed tit

has led me to John Walters.

He's a walking encyclopaedia of all of Dartmoor's wildlife.

And he's also particularly smitten with my new favourite bird.

In fact, John's passion is in a whole different league.

He's devoted decades of his life to understanding them.

I set the bird table up seven years ago,

but I didn't see a long-tailed tit until a few months ago.

They're tiny little birds.

They will eat fat, but they mainly eat insects.

The long-tailed tit is nicknamed the "Flying Teaspoon"

on account of that tiny, round body and distinctive long tail.

It's one of the UK's smallest birds, weighing 8g,

barely more than a 10p piece.

They flock together in noisy gangs

and their sociable nature is the key to understanding them.

Is there one particular flock that you've stayed with,

as it were, through thick and thin? Your loyal flock.

Well, this flock, that hopefully we'll see this evening roosting,

they're the ones that I watch the most.

Do you think they now know who you are and they just accept you?

-You're... You're John in the woods.

-Oh, definitely.

They have got to know me, for certain,

because I can see that by their behaviour.

And they don't mind if you bring a friend in from time to time?

No, not at all, they're completely used to that.

Winning the trust of these skittish little birds has taken

John hundreds of evenings over many years.

It's all down to a fascination with one very distinctive

feature of their family life.

So, there was a particular thing that you hoped to see,

it was like the Holy Grail of long-tailed tit-watching.

That's right, yeah.

Well, to survive the winter, they've got to all snuggle up

and keep warm at night and they have this, you know, this amazing

behaviour where they gather together at dusk and roost together.

But then, you think, "Well, how on earth do you see this?

"It's almost impossible. Where do they go?"

But nothing's impossible in the end

and sometimes things like that find you.

And I just happened to be wandering down past a little hawthorn bush

with some ivy at dusk

and I just saw some long-tailed tits flick in there and I thought, "Wow.

"They're actually going to roost in there. They are in there now."

And I sort of hardly dared to sort of look in there

in case I disturbed them.

How long was it from when you first decided to follow long-tailed tits

and you actually saw them in a roost?

-Well, it was probably about 10, 15 years.

-No?!

You've got me all excited now, I hope it's going to happen.

The way that long-tailed tits roost in winter is unlike any other bird

and something only a handful of people have ever seen.

But after five years of following one family group,

John has been allowed into their secret world.

Here we go. So, the flock are just up above us here, in this birch.

-They like birch to feed in.

-Oh, yeah, yeah.

That's my first long-tailed tit off the bird table. That's fantastic.

It's very exciting, but they are right up in the tops of the trees.

Yeah, there's still a few here in the birch here. Um...

And that noise is very insistent now, isn't it? It's back in the...

-Yeah, up in...

-Back, right in the top of that birch.

As night draws in,

the birds will stop foraging for insects in the tree tops

and find a more sheltered spot to settle for the cold night ahead.

I'm still not sure just how we're going to find

a handful of tiny birds in the whole of this wood in the dark,

but under John's guidance, we have a plan.

And after a bit of kit wrangling, one special twig

in one particular holly bush

is wired for picture and sound.

So, you're predicting that these birds are going to sit on this

exact twig that we've framed upon with our infrared camera?

I know it might seem ridiculous,

but they always come back to exactly the same twig each night.

It seems extraordinary that we can predict within, you know...

-I mean, this is, what, an eight-inch piece of twig?

-That's right.

In the middle of a holly bush, of which there are thousands -

-same twig, same holly bush.

-Every night, yeah,

they'll drop in and then two will drop onto that twig and start

to form the roost and then all the others will jump in one at a time.

Extraordinary.

Yeah, there they are.

So they're up the back through here.

You see them up the top there?

One's going across.

I can't see a thing except a mass of twigs.

And there goes one. See that?

-The roost. Ooh!

-Here's one. Oh, there we go.

-There we go.

-So, there we go, there's one on the...

-That's unbelievable!

-That's ridiculous.

-And there we go.

-Yeah, that's...

-There's one up here.

Yeah, so, they're pretty well there.

They're just going to settle in,

so I think now we can get

the torch and just carefully go

and have a look in there.

Oh, really, even before there's more of them?

Oh, yeah, yeah, and we can hopefully

see them actually form the roost.

-Oh, fantastic.

-They've got used to me doing this.

-Can we do that?

-Yes.

Have a look in there. Take the torch and walk carefully in.

Thanks to John's persistence, this family of birds has become

quite accustomed to being in the spotlight.

-Just stand here, there they are.

-Oh, that's amazing!

There's a few others. Yeah, they'll all be in there.

I expect there'll be eight birds.

There's been eight birds every night just in the last week.

I didn't know it was possible to establish this kind of trust

with wild birds in their natural habitat.

It's such a buzz.

The reward for John's infinite patience is a really intimate view

of this little family's unique bedtime routine.

So, there's one trying to barge in between them.

That's right, yeah, you see, the first...

The two birds form the roost

and then the other birds join the roost, one at a time.

There's one just had to move here.

Oh, yes, he's managed to get right in the middle.

Yeah, he gets right in there, he gets a nice, snug, warm spot.

Everyone has to shuffle along a little bit.

-Yeah, they've all shuffled back.

-Look a bit grumpy about it.

Is there a kind of pecking order?

Do the same birds end up in the middle every night?

Yeah, they won't go onto the outside.

The more dominant birds will always choose a snug, warm spot

in the middle of the roost.

Every winter's night, the same birds that have been together all day

huddle up - brothers, sisters, parents, uncles and aunts

share their body heat to stave off the cold.

Cute as it looks, it's a tough survival strategy

favouring the dominant birds in the middle of the huddle.

In harsh winters, getting pushed to the edges could be fatal.

Oh, they're having a bit of a tussle.

Yeah, you get a few scraps going on this time of year

as the birds are pairing up

and the hormones are getting going for the breeding season.

And so you get a few little disputes between them.

So, would you say that roost is now settled, John?

It looks settled, yeah, because

the last bird's gone in,

which is the dominant bird in the flock.

They're all sort of snuggled up there.

And they'll remain there for the night.

It's the sweetest thing, isn't it?

It's beautiful.

Eight little tails all pointing out.

But the truth is, John,

it's only your incredible patience and stealth over years

has made it possible to see something like this.

Oh, not many people have seen it. Well, not this well.

You might see it, you know, off in the distance in a bit of scrub

somewhere, but to actually come in and get them this tame

so you can shine a torch on them and see all that behaviour

is probably unique.

And it's quite wonderful. It's been really, really special.

Yeah, well, I'm glad we got to see it, it's a

stunning thing to see, isn't it?

-Unbelievable. Thank you so much.

-That's OK.

For all wild inhabitants of this exposed moor,

the cold of winter presents a serious challenge.

While our long-tailed tits huddle together to fight the chill,

larger mammals, having fattened themselves up in the autumn,

restrict activity in winter to a minimum.

But smaller creatures, who lose heat more quickly,

are living on a knife-edge.

So, for some, the best option is nature's ultimate winter shutdown -

hibernation.

Among them is a very tiny and very cute rodent,

whose big winter sleep defines its character -

the dormouse.

This rare woodland creature is thought to spend over

half its life asleep and even when it's awake,

it's hard to spot because it's mainly nocturnal.

During the summer, it forages on seeds, berries and insects.

And in autumn, it feasts on hazelnuts to build up fat reserves

to see it through the long slumber ahead.

And it is, of course, its notable talent for kipping

that gives this mouse its name.

The "dor" in dormouse is from the French word "dormir" - to sleep.

But new research is challenging the dormouse's somnolent reputation.

I've come to a wood on the northern edge of the moor,

a stone's throw from the village of Belstone.

This is where Brazilian biologist Leo Gubert has been studying

the winter sleeping habits of dormice.

His work is helping us to understand

how to conserve this precious British mammal.

On every field trip, Leo's first task is to find his tiny subjects.

How's it going to work,

how are we going to find hibernating dormice here in this vast forest?

Well, this one we're looking for is the dormouse I've been following

since the end of October.

-So, we're looking for a specific dormouse?

-Yes.

-Not any old dormouse?

-No, no, no...

-There's one... You're after an individual?

-This is a...

Yeah, I treat it as a good friend of mine, actually.

Is the range of a dormouse such that you actually have to

look in quite a wide area? I mean, do they move around quite a bit?

They do, they tend to stay in an area of about 100 square metres,

but the problem is the density.

-You tend to find, say, four to six per hectare, which is...

-Ah.

-That's a needle in a haystack.

-Yeah.

And maybe if you kind of get on your knees and start looking

on the woodland floor, maybe in a day or two you'll

find one, if you know what you're looking for and where to look.

-So, where are we heading next?

-Uh, we're going down that way now, so...

-Great.

-Yeah.

Across the country, dormouse numbers are in decline,

but Devon seems to be a stronghold.

Leo monitors the population here from year to year.

He knows these woods very well,

but to track down these tiny animals could take days

without the help of a rather handy gadget.

OK, Hugh, we are getting quite close to where the dormouse was last seen,

so I think I'll take my radio tracking equipment

and we can look for her.

OK. So, you could track all sorts of different things with this device?

-You can, yes.

-Whatever you've managed to put the collar on.

-Yeah, as long as they are...

-Animals big and small?

As tiny as a dormouse.

That must be close to the smallest thing

you can get a radio collar on, isn't it?

That's right, yeah.

If you raise that above your head.

-Like that is great, yeah.

-So, we're tracking, are we?

-We are.

-So, what sort of noise are we looking for that...?

-It's a beep.

-A little beep.

-It goes, "Beep, beep."

-OK.

-And the louder it gets, then the closer we...

-OK.

-..we are.

-Oh, am I allowed to...?

-Yeah, you put that on your shoulder.

OK, great.

And we head that way.

Better not get tangled in branches.

-So keep moving from right to left.

-Yeah?

-And try to pick up the signal.

-That kind of thing?

It all feels like a bit of a long shot to me, but I'll give it a go.

-Ah.

-Anything yet?

-I think I heard the beep. A little click.

-Excellent.

OK. Carry on.

-Can you hear anything?

-Yes.

-Oh, excellent.

-There it is.

-OK.

BEEPING

-Yup.

-Yeah?

-Up ahead.

-That's the only sound you want to hear

when you're holding that aerial.

Yeah, it's very exciting.

Leo's been tracking one particular dormouse all winter.

-It seems to be stronger...that way.

-That way.

-So we're heading up?

We're heading up.

It's probably very simple for a dormouse.

Much easier for a dormouse.

Leo, I'm looking at this pile of leaves here.

I mean, it doesn't look particularly made,

but it's definitely a little pile. BEEPING CONTINUES

-Is that it, is it under there?

-Yeah, we will have to start with that.

That could be it. Let's have a closer look.

It's super loud.

-This is what we're looking for.

-That's incredible.

You can lift the whole nest from underneath, can you?

Yeah, they are very subtle.

-Are you telling me there's a dormouse in there?

-This is the one.

That's right.

And this is the sort of place they will look for a hibernation nest.

I'm just nervous that he's going to kind of wake up and shoot out.

No, I think he's fast asleep.

-Sometimes it takes up to half an hour for them to wake up.

-Really?

Just cos they are so deep asleep, they shut down completely,

so they need to warm up gradually.

And us standing here chatting - in my case, rather over-excitedly -

that's not going to wake him up, either?

-No, not at the moment.

-That was so exciting.

I mean, and I haven't even seen the dormouse yet, my heart's thumping.

-Excellent.

-Um, it's a bit precarious here.

Should we move somewhere a bit safer for that operation?

If we move uphill somewhere flatter. So, yeah. OK.

Dormice hibernate down in the leaf litter,

where the winter temperatures are less changeable,

so they can stay snug in their little leafy cocoons.

And there...

Oh, wow! That's incredible!

HUGH GASPS

Oh!

Leo has a special licence to study

and handle this protected species.

Today, he needs to fit a new

battery to the radio collar on this

very dozy mouse.

She's amazing. Such a thick, bushy

tail for such a tiny, little animal.

That little tail curled right

over her head to tuck her in.

She's a perfect ball, isn't she?

-She's, uh...

-Yeah!

I can't believe we're pulling the leaves

and exposing her like this, but she's fast asleep.

She looks in great shape. Are you happy with her condition?

Yeah, she had a lot of preparation before winter,

so she had to build up all the fat reserves

to kind of survive this long without food.

Um, and... Yeah, I think...I'm quite happy.

I'm quite anxious to weigh her and see how much...

OK, let's go to work.

Disturbing her as little as possible,

Leo takes off the miniature radio collar.

15.5g.

That's the weight of two 10p coins.

And now we just adjust the collar.

And now I can see her beady, black eyes.

She has opened her eyes, so is she sort of waking up a little bit, Leo?

She's just... Yeah, she's slowly waking up.

I think it's quite mild today, it's 15 degrees,

so it's coming towards the end of the hibernation period.

But waking up now, is there a danger that she'll stay awake,

that she'll think, "OK, it's time to get up"?

-As you can see, she's closing her eyes again, so...

-OK.

OK, so she kind of wants to go back to sleep.

It may seem odd to go to such lengths to track a mouse that's

fast asleep, but that's where Leo's research has been so revealing.

He's discovered that dormice are much more active

during the winter months than we'd ever realised.

What role has this little mouse

been playing in your study?

Well, she's been...

She's quite an important one because she has changed nest three times

over the winter, which is something that we didn't know.

She stayed quite close and she crossed the river,

but then it wasn't really a problem for her because...

-She crossed the river?

-Yes.

-So she's been up over a tree branch

-and onto the other side of the river?

-Over the winter, yes.

So she's been fully awake.

If she's actually crossed the river, she's properly scuttling around.

She did. That was... Yeah, that was just the day after the New Year.

I think it was the 2nd January the day she did that, yeah.

And what would stimulate her, do you think,

to wake up and decide to move her nest right in the middle of winter?

Um, I think it's sometimes they need to evade predators or

sometimes the old nest is not as weathertight as it had been,

so they need to kind of...

-So the nest is maybe damaged and that's what's woken them up?

-Yeah.

-Right, now I need to take her back.

-OK.

She's got hibernation to go through.

Sleep well.

Just amazing.

It's about the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

And in she goes.

As she's tucked back in, fast asleep,

it's hard to imagine that she'll be on the move any time soon.

Before we leave the site, Leo and I are going to rig up

a couple of these trail cameras, pointing at our dormouse nest.

If she does decide to move nests in the next few days,

we should be able to catch that on camera.

And just a couple of nights after our visit,

our automatic cameras are activated.

Our radio-tagged dormouse is on the move again.

Leo will be back in the summer when the hibernation is over

to find his dormouse again,

perhaps in one of his specially-prepared nest boxes.

In the depths of winter, Dartmoor's forest can seem strangely lifeless.

For most of the creatures that live here,

it's a matter of lying low until the weather warms.

And as spring breaks and the primroses begin to bloom,

it's as if an alarm clock has gone off.

Temperatures rise across the West Country

and life is starting to bustle again.

The air becomes thick with insects.

Summer visitors, like the wood warbler, arrive from Africa

to feed and breed,

bumblebees get busy among the gorse and down on the ground,

one tiny animal is taking control of the forest floor.

The wood ant, the largest native ant species in the UK.

To take full advantage of the warming sun,

their huge nests are south-facing.

This is the hub of an ordered colony

with up to a quarter of a million ants.

A colony can support as many as 100 queens,

who can live for 20 years.

For the workers who tend them, life expectancy is just a few weeks.

Wood ants are voracious predators,

patrolling the forest to hunt for prey

like caterpillars or other ants.

The search often leads into the canopy,

across streams

and around the forest floor in a search area that can

spread 25 metres from the nest.

Any prey they can subdue in their powerful jaws

is carried back to the nest and dragged within.

But in the forest ecosystem, ants are under attack themselves,

so the colony has some robust security arrangements.

The first line of defence is their sharp and painful bite,

but wood ants also have a chemical weapon in their fight

against hungry predators...

Formic acid.

Aiming their abdomens skywards,

a volley of stinging jets of acid is often enough to deter predators.

At this time of year, there's an interesting opportunity for a

simple demonstration of the wood ants' impressive defence system.

Every spring, Dartmoor is blessed with some of the very best

bluebell fields in Devon.

So, I think I can pick just a few to attempt an experiment that

I heard about long ago, but have never tried for myself.

At the base of this tree is a wood ant nest

and the whole area around there is heaving.

I want to find where the ants are at their thickest

because that's best for the experiment.

There's a lot of them there, look. Let's just bother them a bit.

The aim is to make the ants think my bluebells are a hostile predator,

triggering them to defend their nest with those jets of formic acid.

It's then, so I've been led to believe,

that a simple bit of chemistry has a striking effect.

I'll put one over here. If I bother them enough...

Come on, attack.

Some of the ants seem to have worked out that the flowers are not

the real menace here.

Oh! Ants! Off, off!

Oh, they're inside my trousers as well. Whoa!

I'm actually starting to get a smell...

..of vinegar, and then I can smell the formic acid now,

it's quite distinctive.

It's really quite like the vinegar in a chip shop

and if I brush the ants off my leg...

it's ending up on my fingers.

So, they really are very effective at spraying this defence,

this formic acid out.

And they're getting it on me and it's having the desired effect,

cos it's certainly making me feel like getting away from here,

which is, I imagine, the object of the exercise,

as far as the ants are concerned.

But I'm not leaving till I've seen just what

they can do to my bluebells.

The theory is that the pigment that makes the petals blue will be

affected by the onslaught of formic acid, but only if enough ants

take exception to my offering of bluebells.

And I do believe it might actually be happening.

Look at that, look at the tips of the flowers there.

So, these two have both been attacked.

You can see the pink here on these flowers,

but it's even more distinctive on this one.

This was the one that got really mullered by the wood ants.

This is the unmolested flower, still that deep, classic bluebell blue.

By the power of the ants' formidable formic acid,

my bluebells have been transformed into pink bells.

Not that I really needed proof of the wood ants'

highly effective defences.

Aah!

The warming weather brings these woodlands alive with animal activity

and my guide to the night-time routine of the long-tailed tit,

John Walters, doesn't like to miss any of it.

John is a dedicated field naturalist, never happier than

when patrolling his local woods and adding to his exceptional

understanding of the wildlife here in his patch of the South West.

In fact, John is so intent on spending as much time as possible

with the wild inhabitants of the region, that he's done all he can

to make them feel at home in his own back garden,

in Buckfastleigh, south Devon.

So, he's never more than a few steps away from a world

that's captivated him for as long as he can remember.

Ever since I was three years old, it's one of my earliest memories,

was of watching a glow-worm in our garden

on the South Downs in Hampshire

and finding slowworms in the garden.

I've been passionately interested ever since.

I track lots of bees

and one of my favourites is a little furrow bee and these

are solitary bees, the females make their nests in the ground,

but the males fly in late summer and they don't go into the nest.

For some reason, the females don't want them in the nests,

and so they boot them out, you know,

and they actually roost on flower heads and seeds.

So we leave all the seed heads here

and it's a sort of bachelor party.

And you can get up to 30 of these male bees.

They'll stay there for the night

and then they'll fly off again the next morning.

I've lived on Dartmoor for 20-odd years, 25 years now,

and it is one of my favourite places.

It's the place I know best.

As well as having a prodigious knowledge of natural history,

John also observes it with the appreciative eye of the artist.

Really, my love of drawing and painting comes from

my love of wildlife, so I've got to try and

capture the movement and life of my subjects on paper.

If I can, anyway.

For me, the reason I do all this is really just to observe.

I'm a field naturalist, so I love to be out in the wild, looking

at the wildlife, but having these - drawing and painting and taking

photographs - just gets me closer to the subjects, makes me really

look at them and really notice the beauty in the world around us.

John is also an amateur film-maker with a talent for catching

on camera revealing moments in the life of the creatures of Dartmoor.

Like this fat cuckoo chick

as it tricks its surrogate parent to feed it.

Or these male adders, squaring up in their dancing display.

And the astonishing potter wasp,

building tiny mud pots to hold its eggs.

And today, John's setting out to film a crucial moment

in the life of a creature with an impressive claim to fame.

It's a slug, but not the common or garden variety.

It's the world's largest slug, the ash-black.

It's capable of growing over 20cm and, for John,

the prospect of filming the extraordinary mating behaviour

of this mighty mollusc is irresistible.

Not many people have seen it, it's quite a nocturnal slug.

It could be anywhere in a woodland,

so the chances of being in the right place at the right time

to see it would be very slim, but I have a little trick up my sleeves

to hopefully enable us to see the mating behaviour.

The ash-black feeds mainly on fungus and lichen and this small

patch of woodland near the River Dart suits it perfectly.

It's midsummer, the height of the slug breeding season,

so John should be in the right place at the right time.

And this is an old, ancient woodland and nice and damp,

lots of mosses and ferns here.

A really good place for slugs.

The chances this evening are pretty good, I think.

There's lots of slugs that live in these woodlands

and if we search for long enough to...

And under bits of bark and bits of moss and places like that, we should

find enough and then hopefully we can either watch them or

set them up on a tree

and see if we can see their bizarre mating habits.

It may not be everyone's idea of an evening's entertainment,

but the chance to film something this strange will always

appeal to a dedicated wildlife cameraman.

So, our crew arrived to join the action.

And John has two more pairs of eyes to help with the search.

Ash-black slugs emerge to feed at night.

During the day, they lie low under large pieces of dead wood.

And John, Joseph and Si leave no log unturned.

These wet, mossy areas are ideal habitat.

But finding the world's biggest slug is not a pushover.

Especially if you've never encountered one before.

John, I think I'm... Well, I've found a slug.

It's got a slightly orange underbelly

and there's lots of mushrooms or fungi around here...

OK. Well, this is a good sort of spot to look.

-Yeah, these have been munched, so...

-Yeah, that one's half gone already.

Right, yeah, this is an Arion slug, so similar, but it's the sort

of place where you get these slugs, which are also eating the

mushrooms, then you're likely to get the ash-black slug as well, so...

Well, I haven't rolled it back yet, so shall we...?

Oh, yeah, well, let's have a look, yeah. Um, if we turn over here.

Now, here we go.

This is the ash-black slug and I can tell immediately it's one,

cos if we turn it over, you can see on the underside,

it's got a pale underside, but it's shaded on the edges.

And that's the only British slug that has that.

So, if you find a slug in the woods

and it's got a pale bottom like that with shaded edges to the foot,

then you know it's an ash-black slug.

It's got this lovely sort of tapering tail with...

-Almost a bit reptilian!

-It is a bit, yeah.

I've got a certain fondness for these slugs,

they wouldn't attack your vegetables even if they came in your garden.

-Oh, really?

-No. They much prefer rotting vegetation

and also mushrooms and toadstools, that's their favourite food.

Well, that kind of slug is a friend of mine.

It's not long before John has a handful of contenders

for tonight's romantic rendezvous.

Slugs are hermaphrodites,

so they are male and female at the same time,

but they do have to meet another slug to mate with them.

I mean, you could wander around the woods for hours at night

and you might be lucky and people have been lucky in seeing them,

but to stand a better chance, we've found a few slugs

and we're going to actually set them up on a branch

and then put them together and see if they will actually mate.

And if they do, our cameras will be poised to capture every detail.

These slugs are thought to mate just once a year,

so we can only hope that ours will find themselves in the mood tonight.

-OK, Simon, I've chosen the slugs...

-Right.

..which I think are going to maybe mate with each other.

And what we're going to do is just pop them on here

and introduce them to one another.

And is there any kind of signs where they are clearly

interested in each other?

Well, if they start following each other around, that's the best sign.

This bit can take a while, they are slugs after all!

So, hopefully they'll take an interest in each other

and they'll want to mate.

But who knows what goes on inside the mind of a slug?

Or indeed what goes on in the minds of two men in a wood

waiting for slugs to mate!

Well, we've got a couple here,

which are sort of sliming around together,

so they may be interested in each other.

The slugs have their sex organs,

-they're actually in the side of their head.

-Oh, right!

It's quite a strange thing, you know,

sort of like this huge sex organ which appears.

I don't know, it's quite hard...

Even when you do see it, it's hard to tell where it's come from,

and they wrap them round each other.

So, if we look for signs of that appearing.

Signs that I imagine would be hard to miss!

But so far, there's no indication that either slug is in the mood.

Warmth and damp are both vital,

so John does what he can to help create the right conditions.

After all, the night is still young.

Usually, I'd expect a little bit more activity by now.

Usually, you can tell if they're going to mate

because one of the slugs will lock on to the tail of another slug

and it will follow it along. But at the moment,

these slugs don't seem particularly interested in each other.

It's gone quite cold and I think now they've gone very inactive,

we haven't seen any movement for a little while,

so it doesn't look like they're going to do anything, unfortunately.

I've got to admit, I'm slightly disappointed.

I was really looking forward to seeing that.

I know, and it is an amazing thing to see,

but, you know, I think it's a little bit too cold tonight for them.

And usually these slugs are very active

and they're whizzing around all over the place,

and you're trying to stop them escaping,

but there's no problem with that this evening, is there?

No, they're just staying rock solid, aren't they?

John was certainly right that this is a very hard thing to witness.

It could have been the cold that killed their passion,

but there's a lot we just don't know about these mysterious molluscs.

Although John's never filmed this before,

he has taken stills of these secretive slugs mating.

And as his pictures show, when the mood does take them

and the slime starts to flow, it can all get pretty weird.

After they've circled each other

to confirm their interest in mating,

white organs start to emerge

from the sides of their heads.

These are their penises.

To mate, these hermaphrodites hang upside down.

They need the help of gravity

to fully extend those enormous sex organs,

which can be the length of their entire bodies.

Wrapping around each other in a slimy embrace,

their penises entwine in a double helix as they exchange sperm.

Then they'll slither off and lay around 200 eggs,

ready to produce the next generation of ash-black slugs.

It's high summer and in the woods of Dartmoor's Taw Valley,

Leo Gubert is back to catch up with his dormice.

Sadly, in England and Wales,

dormouse numbers have fallen by two-thirds in the last 20 years.

So strongholds like this are critical for them.

So, this is a fantastic habitat for dormice.

I mean, if you look at the trees and shrubs,

it's been here for a long time.

I mean, the moss here on the branch is a good indicator of that.

Of course, I can't wait to find out what happened to

the lovely little dormouse we met a few months ago.

By now, she should be wide awake and could even be rearing some

babies in one of Leo's purpose-built nest boxes.

The first place to check is the very same box that she bred in last year.

So, it'll be interesting to see what we find in that box.

I hope this is a good one.

There's nest material there, but I see no movement.

No-one's at home, but that's not necessarily a bad sign.

They're all up in the canopy, I think, it's such a nice day today.

The nest boxes help the breeding success of the dormice

and tell Leo whether they're active in a given area.

Oh, now we've got a few leaves.

Leo's an old hand and he isn't giving up the hunt quite yet.

Now, the other ways that we can find evidence that dormice are present...

Oh, here. Look at that one.

You see, it's been freshly opened by a dormouse

and you can tell how the tooth marks on the nut

has been opened by dormice.

They tend to leave a very kind of round, even hole inside.

Yeah, I mean, you can see the dormouse just by, you know,

looking at the nut.

But this is a good sign, this is what I've been looking for.

The trail's getting warmer.

OK, we've got nest material in here,

so I'm going to take the box out and check inside my plastic bag.

Oop, there he comes.

It's a dormouse.

Not the adult female I met in the winter, but a good find.

It looks like a juvenile, this one. Let's have a quick look at him.

He's very lively.

The mouse goes into a small bag

so it can be weighed without a struggle.

We normally find juveniles. At this time of the year, they're just

still growing and putting on weight and developing for the winter.

This one is exactly 15g, which is what a juvenile that was

born kind of earlier in the summer should weigh.

And the other one of the main differences from other small mammals

is this beautiful furry tail here.

Now, some of the dormice in these woods,

they've been fitted with microchips,

which is another technique I'm using as part of my research.

Leo has microchipped all the dormice he's found

to help him track how they travel through the wood.

This is dormouse 6058785.

A thriving juvenile is always a good find

as it adds to the breeding population.

The summer survey is a particularly special time in Leo's

year-round study of the Dartmoor dormice.

Finding them is just so rewarding, you know?

Sometimes you come out and you don't find any.

You come out in the rain or you come out and get bitten by midges

or ticks, here on Dartmoor, even, but, yeah, it's worth it.

Thanks to Leo's painstaking work,

we know more about the secretive lives of these tiny mice

than ever before.

And it helps us to safeguard their future

in this vitally important Dartmoor woodland.

Spending time with wildlife watchers has shown me

that however persistent and patient you are,

it's impossible to predict what you're going to see or find.

After John showed me the long-tailed tit's winter roost,

he went on to stake out one of their nests in the hope that we

could watch their chicks grow over the summer.

So, I'm excited to come back

and catch the next chapter in the life of my new favourite bird.

But on the day before my visit, disaster has struck.

The nest has been raided.

So, what's happened to the nest, John?

Well, unfortunately, it's been predated, which, you know,

is something which happens. I almost expect it to happen

because it happens to about 60% of the nests.

-As many as that?

-That's right.

-More than half.

-Yes.

-And who do you think the culprit is?

-Well, either a jay or a squirrel.

-The nest has been ripped out and the chicks...

-Not a magpie?

Well, there aren't many magpies here,

-so there are jays in the woods and squirrels around...

-Right.

So they're the two most likely culprits.

Is there still a nest there for me to look at?

Yes, there's still a nest, yeah. It's quite...

-But not the nest it was?

-Not the nest it was.

-OK.

-Well, let's check it out anyway.

-OK.

Despite being hidden in dense gorse,

our nest has provided a meal to some other hungry Dartmoor inhabitant.

Well, there you can see the feathers.

So, as soon as you get here, you know it's been predated.

And you'd been the day before and everything was right as rain?

Yeah, they were all looking good, actually, and I was thinking,

"These ones could be all right," because they'd got to that stage.

-They were probably about three or four days off fledging.

-Really?

Do you think jays have a particular penchant for long-tailed tits?

Well, they really like...

Well, not just long-tailed tits, but young birds in nests.

And just like me when I'm trying to find a nest,

I look for birds carrying food - I'm sure they do as well,

follow them in and then take out all the young.

The adults will have got away. What will they do now?

Cos they have this amazing social behaviour that we saw when

they were roosting, it also applies to their breeding habits as well.

So if a pair's nest gets destroyed, they go off to their nearest

male relative's nest and then they help out there.

I watched one the other week with four adults

feeding the young in the nest.

-So, four adults feeding is twice as good as two.

-Yeah, it would be.

Can we get a look at what's happened to this nest?

-Can we get a bit closer?

-Yeah, I'll pick the nest out, actually.

Hang on. OK.

Here we go.

-You've interfered with the crime scene there, John.

-Yes, yeah.

So, lots and lots of feathers.

But these are not the feathers of the birds that have been killed,

-these are part of the nest?

-Oh, no. No, they are not.

No, this is part of the amazing construction of this nest.

It's actually lined with hundreds and hundreds of feathers.

There's a few pheasant feathers I can see in there,

wood pigeons, a robin there...

So, basically, the whole construction is feather and moss?

That's right. The actual outer construction, which is built first,

is made of spiders' webs, moss and lichen.

And the spiders' webs are sort of the glue then, they're

kind of really quite important for sticking it all together?

Oh, yeah, and it's an amazing construction.

It takes about two weeks to build this nest and the pair will

work together and they'll build it up slowly by collecting

spiders' webs, spinning it all in here and then adding bits of lichen.

But the amazing thing about this nest, because it's

made of spiders' webs - you see, pull it there like that - it can

actually expand to accommodate the big chicks when they're in there.

-It's a kind of Lycra nest.

-That's right. It's an amazing construction.

John is not deterred by this setback.

He's already found another nest and guides us to the

perfect position to set up our camouflaged camera.

So, I'm still hoping to round off my experience of Dartmoor's

long-tailed tits with the moment when a new brood of chicks

leaves the nest for the very first time.

Ah, brilliant, it's just there!

God, that's such a good set-up.

-Lovely position, isn't it? Just about head height as well.

-Ah!

It's a tiny... The nest looks even smaller than the one you showed me.

That's right, yeah.

About the same size, about the size of your hand, isn't it?

How long after the guys set the camera up do the birds come back?

-Well, almost immediately, they'll be coming...

-Minutes?

-Yeah, within five minutes.

-So this doesn't bother them at all?

No, they're not really... If it's not a classic predator

and it is just a bit of inanimate object,

they're not going to be frightened of it.

But we probably shouldn't hang around too long?

No, they would be a bit scared if we were here, so we better...

Well, it looks like a great set-up. Let's go and find the monitor.

Well, I found this one yesterday

and the chicks were quite big in there.

-They should fledge within two or three days, I think.

-Oh, really?

So, we're lucky to get it just before they've left?

So, they've just got to hang in there for a couple more days

and beat the jays?

That's right and the adults here are pretty good, actually.

It took me a while to find them.

Just me sat here was... They were a bit

cagey about going down to the nest, which is a good sign.

They've spotted me, so they think, "Oh, let's let him walk away."

When I turned my back, they flipped down into the nest.

John's affinity with these beguiling birds offers me

another moment to savour.

Ooh, ooh, look! That's... Look, the young. They're sticking...

Is that because they've seen Mum or Dad on the way?

Because they lunged out there, two of them

lunged out with their great, gaping beaks open.

-Did you see that?

-Yeah, they can hear the parents, probably.

Probably the parents are calling nearby and these

birds are close to fledging now, so they'll come right out of the nest.

Look, there they are again! Ooh, ooh, and she's in. Fantastic.

-Beautiful, isn't it?

-That is amazing.

I didn't realise we were actually going to see the little ones

right up in the mouth of the nest there with their beaks gaping open.

-That's fantastic.

-Well, we've caught this just right,

cos that just happens just a couple of days before they fledge.

Before that, they're tucked in, tight into the nest,

and they'd just come up to the entrance a bit.

But that's full now

and it's sort of expanding with that silk expansion system they've got.

-So...

-But there will be other chicks, you know, deep down.

So, they're literally clambering on top of each other to get

-there first when the food comes?

-That's right.

It's the one sticking its head out the furthest which is going to

get fed, so the ones down the bottom have got to

sort of work their way up and battle their way up to get some food.

-Ooh, there we go.

-There we go, yeah.

-Ooh! A big beakful of something.

Yeah, it's usually caterpillars and small flies and things like that.

Yeah, it looked caterpillary, actually.

And often the pair will come in together. So, there we go.

Look at that! That's a real mouthful of caterpillars!

Almost choking on it there, isn't it?

I think he got all three of those fat, green caterpillars.

-Yeah, that'll keep him going for a little while.

-This is so great.

-You know, having seen them first on my bird table...

-Mm.

-..and then at the beginning of the year in that beautiful roost...

-Yes.

..and now right here in the wild, in their habitat,

-with a nest on the go, it's just fantastic.

-Yeah, it's brilliant.

And this is probably the perfect day to see them.

And this is just going on all day now,

just cramming that fuel in to get them ready for their fledge?

That's right, yeah, these are really hungry chicks

and they're growing rapidly through the day.

So, by tomorrow they'll be even bigger than that and, yeah, they'll

probably be ready to go, so they need as much food as they can get.

And they'll all be ready at the same time?

Yeah, they've all been incubated.

Although the female will lay the eggs one at a time, she doesn't

start incubating them until she's laid the last one, so they will

all hatch on the same day and they will all fledge on the same day.

It's tantalising, cos they're obviously a day or so

away from absolutely making it, these guys.

Yeah, maybe even tomorrow morning, these birds, they're looking

like they might well go tomorrow, just looking at that today.

It makes me want to come back tomorrow

just to see if they do fledge, but I'm wondering,

maybe we can leave a camera set up here

and try and keep on this and get the footage of them actually fledging.

Yeah, that would be fantastic.

Yeah, we can leave a camera running on the nest

and hopefully see that magic moment when they all pile out.

I'd love to see it.

Time's run out for me and John today.

But the next morning,

the crew returned to the exact same spot to be our eyes on the nest.

It's a big relief to see the chicks still there.

There's no predicting exactly when they'll fledge

and there's only one thing for the crew to do -

settle in and wait.

For the next two days,

the parents and almost certainly other family members

keep up the unrelenting feeding routine, stuffing

those gaping mouths with a steady supply of fat, green caterpillars.

Feeding builds to a crescendo, as parents pack the chicks with as

much protein as possible, preparing them for their very first flight.

But as the adults come and go, there's something in

the parent birds' flight that we haven't seen before.

It's fleeting and hard to spot,

until we watch it in slow motion.

Then, this magical little performance

emerges in all its glory.

As they leave the nest,

the adults hover in mid-flight,

just like hummingbirds.

And as the day goes on, they perform the same trick again and again.

There's a couple of theories about what they might be up to.

One idea is that it's a signal,

calling the other adult birds in the extended family

to come and help with the feeding,

making a deliberate display of leaving the nest.

But John thinks the adults could be trying to entice the chicks

to make that first flight, hovering at the nest entrance

and giving them little chirps of encouragement.

Whatever it means, this charming display is one more reason to

marvel at these lovely little birds.

But even if they are being asked to leave the nest, for now,

these chicks have chosen to sit tight, which, as it turns out,

is a smart move.

THUNDER RUMBLES

As you can see, it's a lovely day up by the long-tailed tit nest!

The kit's all getting wet,

everything's covered with bin bags, um, except us.

Not a lot's going to happen today if this rain keeps up.

But whatever the weather, those chicks still need to be fed.

All day long, the bedraggled adults

keep up the round-the-clock deliveries.

They certainly aren't going to fledge

if the weather stays like this.

Our cameraman Matt's banking on a burst of sunshine

to bring out the chicks.

But one thing I know about Dartmoor is that even in late spring,

it can drizzle for days.

The parents are keeping up their impressive work-rate

and the chicks are scoffing the lot.

But sitting tight.

It's a lot of rain.

By day six, the nest is at bursting point.

They really can't stay in there much longer.

And finally, the weather breaks.

Thankfully, the rain's just stopped.

I haven't been able to see what the birds have been up to

for a good half an hour or so, so just checking the monitor here.

And thankfully, they're still on the nest.

At long last, one chick makes its move.

It's a short maiden flight,

but there's no going back.

And this fluffy-headed youngster is not alone for long.

And Matt and Joseph's six-day vigil is finally paying off,

as the chicks move out en masse.

One, two, three, four,

five, six, seven.

Seven chicks, all from the same tiny, but luckily, expandable nest.

These young birds will now join their family group,

flitting and foraging around the woods.

And when winter comes, they'll join their cousins,

uncles and aunties, huddled on a single branch.

Just like the group I saw at the beginning of the year.

And next time I see long-tailed tits on my garden feeders at home,

I'll know a whole lot more about what they've been up to

the rest of the time.

If you'd like to explore Britain's diverse landscapes in more detail

and find out how to create your own wildlife habitats,

The Open University has produced a free booklet with bookmarks.

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