America's Northwest Giants (Full Episode) | America the Beautiful | Nat Geo Animals

NARRATOR: Bigger is better in the Land of Giants. Here, conditions conspire to make the northwest corner of the U.S. home to the most extraordinary landscapes, plants, and creatures imaginable. (bellowing) For throngs of sightseers, the famous Highway 1 up California's Central Coast means spectacular views. For passing wildlife, the coast is one of the busiest pit stops they know. Smack dab in the middle of winter mating and summer feeding grounds. Birds flock here; mammals migrate. (waves pounding) And right now, just under the waves... a major arrival few people ever see. It's spring break for these anchovies. They swarm here for easy eats and cool temperatures. And they bring friends. A single school can consist of one billion individuals. Hair-like sensors allow them to detect the slightest movement by their neighbors, and they react in the blink of an eye. Every side watches for incoming predators. But there are some threats you can't run from. A gaping mouth joins the party. The ribbed skinfolds along a humpback's throat expand like an accordion, allowing it to gulp thousands of fish in one pass. These 30-ton visitors can swallow 3,000 pounds of food a day. This group is on their annual voyage north. Some travel over 10,000 miles, one of the farthest migrations of any mammal. (whale moaning) It's this calf's first journey north... learning the ropes from mom as he goes. Female humpbacks nurse their youngsters for almost a year. He already weighs more than a ton. On this trip they'll map out the crucial path to summer feeding grounds, and he'll remember it for life. Plus a few tricks from mom along the way. They take in the coastal scenery as they go. The wildest section of California's coast stretches from San Simeon 100 miles up to Monterey Bay and beyond. It includes Big Sur and takes in rich ocean waters from Monterey Bay's two-mile-deep underwater canyon. In both depth and scale, it's comparable to the Grand Canyon. Life here is just bigger, out of the water and in. Strands of giant kelp grow fast, as much as two feet in a single day, until they reach more than 150 feet tall. Among the kelp, a less obvious giant. This coastal traveler packs a lot into his hard case. Red abalone have a foot that stretches their entire body length. That's it there, the frilly bit on the bottom. But this sea snail is not much of a runner. He uses this oversized appendage to grip massive kelp leaves. And he has a razor-like tongue to shred them like a chainsaw, measuring one-third of his body length. Ruffled folds of tissue and writhing tentacles stick out from his foot. probing for his next meal. He uses the holes on top of his shell to breathe, for waste, and to make babies. He releases clouds of sperm and fills the shallow waters with billions of microscopic Mini-Me's. On cue, a nearby female shoots out millions of her own green eggs. All this X-rated action attracts others who join in on the fun. The eggs contain chemical lures, a beacon to light the way home for each abalone sailor. The young settle on the bottom and dine on pink coralline algae. This will be their main course for the next few months, giving each one its pink color. You are what you eat. These youngsters are just under two inches in size. But they've got the appetite of a teenager. And big eyes fixed on kelp. They chow down. Red abalone can grow shells up to one foot in length. But few will make it to that size. California's intertidal area is a cutthroat arena... filled with killers. And this lined shore crab is the best abalone assassin of them all. He takes advantage while the juveniles are still bite-sized. The young abalone doesn't have enough suction to withstand the crab's iron grip. It has no chance. The feast is frenetic. And for good reason. Open shellfish are only on the menu for a short time each day. This landscape changes by the hour. It's a clock set to the rhythm of the tide. As soon as the water rolls out, the anemones and mussels close up shop. From fully submerged... to fully exposed. From pounding surf... to baking sun. This lined shore crab is unfazed. He can stay out of the water for up to 70 hours. He's one of the more terrestrial crabs of his kind. After his first meal of shellfish, he simply moves on to his second course, a side salad of seaweed and kelp. But spending so much time on land is risky. (bird squawking) Threats from above make this hunter become the hunted. If you're not careful out here, you end up as bird food. On this coast, there's always a bigger fish. Further down the beach, the tide is bringing in perhaps the strangest-looking coastal creature of all. A northern elephant seal. (grunting) And he's not alone. Ahead of him, hundreds lounge on this single beach. The females have recently given birth and lay quietly with their pups. But the peace is soon broken. A latecomer sneaks in to look for a mate. But he's stomping on someone else's territory. Big mistake. NARRATOR: A reigning elephant seal guards his piece of California's Golden Coast. He has more than a hundred females under his watch, and he could mate with almost all of them in a single season. The big bosses can grow to nearly 20 feet in length and weigh around 8,000 pounds. That's longer and heavier than a fully loaded pickup truck. Far too intimidating for the sneaky intruder who's chased off with a burst of elephant energy. That mini trunk helps him fend off some interlopers with sound alone. The male aims his massive nose down his throat, and towards his voice box, to create an echo chamber. His call can be heard from a mile away. A recent study of this population shows that males can recognize rivals by the rhythm of their call. That stops some battles, but not all. Only weeks after giving birth, the females are ready to mate again. When the king senses this, nothing stands in his way. Not even his own pups. (squealing) While he's distracted by his manly duties, smaller males on the edges of the harem make their move. (snorting) And the competition between lesser males is fierce. The two young males clash with thousands of pounds of force. Teeth larger than that of grizzly bears puncture and draw blood with each blow. (growling) The loser slinks away, while the victorious male wastes no time. He must make his move on the nearest female fast. If he's lucky, the king won't notice. Creatures of all kinds fixate on this edge. This fine line between sand and sea is a food delivery service. Waves bring dinner to the doorstep of millions of coastal birds. The mountains of kelp and seaweed that wash up every year aren't too tasty. But they attract something that is: (insect buzzing) Insects. Lots of insects. They multiply and swarm. These little beach hoppers could take over the coast, except for one thing. Enter the snowy plover. (chirping) He's the pest control around these parts. (chirp) Without these little winged furballs, beaches would be infested. They may look like young, but these are indeed adults... zipping around like pinballs, with a dash-dart-and-dine technique. If it was a dance, it would be a quick step. When they're done chasing insects, they chase each other. Both mom and dad take turns egg-sitting. Dad usually takes the night shift; mom, the day shift. Vigilance is vital. There's danger above. This hawk would love nothing more than a scrambled-egg breakfast. To counter, the plover is about to do something extraordinary. NARRATOR: Along California's Golden Coast, snowy plovers make dash-and-dart moves. It's their best defense against an aerial attack. Now this dad uses it to divert a hawk's attention away from his family. It's a bold move. But it may not be enough. So, he changes tactics and now pretends to be injured. A living decoy. (squawking) He catches the hawk's eye and distracts it from the nest. When the hawk comes too close for comfort, the plover suddenly finds his speedy little legs again. It's a strategy that works. Soon enough, the nest is chock-a-block with chicks. Within hours of hatching the chicks are up and running... the next generation of insect catchers. The ocean thrusts her bounty up on the sand, into the tidal pools. And farther into California than you'd imagine. The icy ocean current from Monterey Canyon heads inland for seven miles. It carries with it something important: lunch. The water is full of yummy morsels, bits of kelp and plankton. These nutrients feed one of the largest tidal marshes in California: Elkhorn Slough. A salty kingdom ruled by the tides. It's a gentle oasis for this sea otter. He's a water-loving weasel with massive webbed toes that make this male look like he walks with two left feet. But once deep enough, he finds his sea legs. And a whole bunch of friends. Almost every moment of their lives is spent afloat. Some take on a prayerful pose; it's how they sleep. For others, wakey wakey. Time for a morning scrub. Otters are the heaviest members of the weasel family and are uniquely adapted to life around water. They use their tails for balance and as a rudder. They can open and close their small ears for diving. And they have the densest fur in the animal kingdom, like a full-body lifejacket. 800 million hairs trap air close to their skin and keep out the icy ocean. Sea otter romance leaves much to be desired. A skinny-dip with a partner might sound romantic, but it ain't. It's a rumble and a tumble until the male gets a good grip. He can draw blood with those teeth and will hold her head under water until he gets his way. It's a life-or-death struggle for this female. And she already has a juvenile at her side. If she goes down, so does it. Two lives hang in the balance. It's a California love tangle that can turn tragic. This reluctant female sea otter, and her young pup, could easily be killed by this determined male. It's a close call, but the mating battle ends, and all survive. He'll leave her to raise their new offspring alone. Pups are born in the water but can't swim until they reach two weeks. Mom uses her stomach as a furry cradle. But every parent needs a little me time. And mom's got just the solution. Fill the pup's dense fur with air. Like blowing up a balloon. (squeak) Now this kid will float for hours. She wanders off while the youngster bobbles like a buoy nearby. Hunting is essential for a young mother. She's on a high-calorie diet, eating up to 30% of her body weight each day. A large innkeeper worm makes a perfect starter. For another female, the catch of the day is clam. Freshly cracked and served raw. Her pup is a little older and can swim. (crying) But he's not happy mom has a table for one. He depends on her until he can wrangle his own dinner. Until then, this momma's boy will keep living at home... ...a little otter growing up on a big coast. Inland, coastal California has an undisputed king, one that stands above them all; it's the redwood. (birds chirping) These trees have reigned over America's West Coast for 20 million years. And their crowns are the tallest in the world, up to 370 feet high. Taller than an Apollo rocket. Future redwood heirs may start small... but saplings develop fast. In peak conditions, they can grow to a regal 50 feet in just 20 years. As their branches reach for the heavens, their roots stretch into rivers and streams. Every tall structure needs a solid foundation. Redwood roots only go 10 to 13 feet deep into the soil, but they spread out up to 80 feet wide, like giant thirst-driven tentacles. Coastal redwoods span more than 500 miles along California's Pacific Coast, from Big Sur all the way up to southern Oregon. They follow the California fog belt... a strip of coast where miles of marine fog regularly move inland. And where it hugs the coast is where redwoods thrive. Redwood needles specialize in catching fog. And some plants below depend on it. The understory may get as much as 13 inches of moisture from a redwood on a single foggy day. Here to cash in on all that wonderful wetness, another giant... of sorts. The banana slug is the largest slug in North America. It can grow more than seven inches long. He's guided by his tentacles. The top two detect light, and the lower two smell what's before him. They lead this California native from one meal to the next... (crunching) ...and that's vital for the health of the redwoods. The slug's recycled feces is a primary fertilizer for the forest floor. From little things, big things grow. Other creatures slink around the base of these woods, too. Dangerous ones. The garter snake specializes in the redwood's cool and dark climate. The giant banana slug is an easy grab... ...too slow to get away. Down the hatch it goes. But not so fast. There's a catch. And the garter snake is only just starting to realize his mistake. NARRATOR: Among California's giant redwoods, this garter snake has gotten himself into a sticky situation. At the time, banana slug for breakfast seemed like a good idea. But the slug's mucus is an anesthetic that numbs the snake's mouth. He starts choking on the slime. The slug may be dead, but the garter snake has learned a lesson. Scratch big yellow bananas from the menu. Such defenses exist throughout the animal world, and the tree world has some of its own, too. There's a reason why these giants live so long. Each redwood has three major lines of defense. First, it's fireproof. An old redwood has bark thick enough to survive the hottest of wildfires. Second, they can regenerate. A fallen redwood will sprout new trees along the toppled trunk. And finally, tannins. The chemical responsible for the red color of the bark is a weed killer and an insect repellent. On the surface of these massive limbs, rough bark and crevices trap falling needles that break down into a soil called "arboreal humus." This humus absorbs rainfall like a sponge. In short, it becomes earth, a planet above the planet. And from this earth sprouts new life. A hidden forest unseen from below. There's a commander and chief up here, the leader of the tree world. Even though he weighs a tenth of an ounce, the wandering salamander is a permanent resident in this canopy. He has no lungs. Instead he breathes through his skin. It's a nifty trick that's possible only if his skin stays wet. Up here, that's not a problem. Enough moisture stays trapped in the sky-high foliage year-round. These salamanders are only found in North America, where they've become expert climbers. A prehensile tail can grab ahold of twigs. And gripped toe pads allow them to easily scale these giants. They tunnel under moss, find mates, eat insects... and jump from limb to limb with confidence. Year after year, thrives in the clouds, 100 feet high plus, and may never touch the ground. A luxury high-rise in a city of branches. Climb higher and you reach the crown of the redwoods. Best have wings to get here. The northern spotted owl moves up and down to find the ideal temperature on any given day. Agile, maneuverable, and his wings near silent. Night and day, from ground to crown... his prey is never safe. It's dinnertime. In California's redwoods, "silent but deadly" is a badge of honor... and it's worn by the spotted owl. His soundless approach goes completely unnoticed. (whoosh) He'll catch as much as he can. Once he's had his fill, he stashes the rest in cool tree limbs for later. Spotted owls live almost exclusively in old growth forest. As the big old trees fall, so do they. Despite federal protection, less than 10,000 northern spotted owls remain, and there are fewer each year. One thing more precious than a spotted owl is two. This breeding pair has bonded for life. Under their powerful gaze... ...spotted owl Junior. Just two months old and already acting like a famished teenager. Mom and Dad prefer to hunt by night. But Junior's insatiable hunger doesn't allow for a day off. Junior catches on slowly. But within another couple of months, he too will be dispatching mice by snapping their necks and downing them whole. Live and learn, little one. It takes practice to become a phantom of the redwoods. The hunt of the owls brings us back down to earth. But what defines this space is still the rise of the ancient redwoods. Some of them are more than 2,000 years old... ...among the longest-living organisms on the planet. Each is like a high-rise building for an incredible range of tenants. From the depths of the Pacific to the top of the redwoods, this ecosystem runs like clockwork. Driven by the tides and fog. This is a kingdom of giants. Captioned by Side Door Media Services