Poison dart frog

Almost a year ago NATURE asked me to make a film about the disappearance of amphibians.  I’d made a film on that very subject 15 years ago, so I was a bit reluctant… for about a nanosecond.  Then I realized I couldn’t say no.

The fact is, since making my prior film dozens of frog species have disappeared -– and the decline of amphibians has escalated into one of the greatest environmental crises of our time.  Scientists are calling it the greatest mass extinction since the dinosaurs.  It’s HUGE!!!

The other reason I said yes is: I love frogs.

So, on a blustery day in April I began to piece together my stories… Since the crisis is global, that meant finding characters and frogs in spots as far away as Australia and South America, as well as right here in our own backyards.

The research was sobering.  Amphibians have survived for 360 million years and suddenly they’re vanishing…  I quickly learned that there isn’t any one culprit; frogs are getting hit from just about every direction: climate change, habitat loss, chemical run-off, introduced predators, over-collection, and deadly diseases… Basically, humans have stirred up a perfect storm for amphibians.

Over the next three days I’ll be posting more about my experiences with Frogs… Tomorrow: Panama (where we were faced the challenges of filming frogs in the middle of a wet jungle at night).  Hope you’ll come back…

- Allison Argo

Photographed by three-time Emmy Award winning filmmaker Neil Rettig, “American Eagle” is the first HD hour on bald eagles ever. In this behind-the-scenes exclusive, Rettig talks about the making of the film while he captures footage of the spring migration along the Mississippi River. Rettig shares his favorite experiences from the filming and explains why he believes wildlife filmmakers have a special responsibility to move people to think about the natural world, now more than ever.

In the world of wildlife filmmaking, there are occasions when we all get together and talk about future projects. One of these events happens at Jackson Hole in Wyoming. Back in 2005 I had my chance ‘pitch’ with boss man Fred Kaufman, Executive Producer of NATURE. Given the competition, the number of people and ideas that he has to listen to, these pitches are vital.  I ordered a salad. We sat on a bar stool. I banged on about the white wolves, and the largest of the falcons, the gyrs, these two stunning white characters on a dramatic stage.   He just kept quiet and ate, glancing up occasionally. As he didn’t interrupt me with a question, I continued to pitch, getting more and more excited as I painted the picture of the island, the noises, the elements, and how we would bring to NATURE’s screen a real jewel of a film. As I ended the pitch I picked up a leaf of salad and crunched it and heard him say the words… ‘Fergus, I like it.’ Believe me, that’s rare in this business! So, we were on! Hey, Fred!

Back in 2005, I was researching logistical issues for working on Ellesmere in Northern Canada and kept on coming across the name of a remarkable solo arctic explorer, called Jim McNeill. He was, quite surprisingly, another Brit — and soon after we met for the first time — I realized that this man and his outfit ICE WARRIOR were going to be intrinsic to working in the remote corners of Ellesmere Island. Jim had done it all before — alone. He had encountered wolves in various parts, and had wonderful photographs to whet my appetite even more. He knew when and how the ice would behave, which vehicles could move with what, how aircraft could land and where — it was all straightforward to him. He was soon a crucial part of my team, and together we started planning.

Crew members load an ATV into the plane on Ellesmere Island

We did a fantastic arctic survival course with him near Reading and he was even able to provide a blizzard for us. Elements of the course included navigation, orientation and first aid. Though I was a soldier once, as was Jim, his expertise was second to none. Jim was able to highlight all the areas that would be a health and safety concern. His emergency plan would be vital to ensure that in the event of an accident on Ellesmere, a victim would get out alive…

This was a two-phase plan. Phase One, the recce, involved Jim McNeill and Assistant Producer, Harry Hoskyns-Abrahall. They would identify the wolf activity area before cameraman Mark Smith was flown out to join them for Phase Two.

– Fergus Beeley, Producer of White Falcon, White Wolf

The following are entries from the field diary of professional explorer Jim McNeill, written during the expedition on Ellesmere Island in preparation for the filming of White Falcon, White Wolf.

Photos © Mark Smith, 2007

Sausha Seus is a wolf trainer with Wasatch Rocky Mountain Wildlife, an animal training service based in Heber City, Utah best known for its star ursine thespian: Bart the Bear. Sausha handled the wolves that played Lobo and Blanca in NATURE’s The Wolf That Changed America. She has been working with wolves for 17 years. Wild wolves can be dangerous, and the wolves Sausha works with are trained, so — as always when it comes to wild animals — don’t try this at home. Here, Sausha speaks about wolf training and what it was like working with wolves on The Wolf That Changed America.

Q: How did you become interested in wolves?

A: I became interested in wolves because my parents own Wasatch Rocky Mountain Wildlife. WRMW trains and tames wild animals for the film industry. My parents, Doug and Lynne Seus, introduced me to the wild kingdom at the age of three. I was part of a wolf pack by the time I was five. My passion for animals – wolves, in particular – has been heightened by being able to work with them on a daily basis.

What was it like the first time you came face to face with a wolf?

The first time I came face to face with a wolf I was five. It felt like looking into another universe. The same is true today, 26 years later. The eyes of a wolf pierce your soul.

Introduce us to the wolves that played Lobo and his mate.

There were actually two wolves that played Lobo and two wolves that played Blanca. The main wolf that played Blanca was Cree. The double wolf for Blanca was Spirit. Both Cree and Spirit came from Seacrest Wolf Preserve, a well-respected educational facility. Cree is the peacemaker of the pack; he is serene and sweet. Spirit is the wolf in our pack that initiates play. Spirit is a happy go lucky wolf.

The main wolf that played Lobo was Coda. The double wolf for Lobo was Coda’s brother, Yukon. Coda and Yukon both came from Bear Country (an animal preserve in South Dakota). Coda is somewhat of a trickster wolf and will try to get away with things like pretending he isn’t listening. Yukon is an aloof wolf. He is very self-actuated.

Off set, the wolves exercise, eat, and play. They get to run in the Rockies by pristine mountain lakes and rivers. They get to go swimming in the backyard pond and dive for cookies.

When dealing with wolves, how do you gain their trust?

The wolves have been part of the family since they were tiny puppies. They have never been treated unfairly or unjustly. Frankly, they are loved as members of our family.

How do you communicate with wolves? What training methods do you use?

Communication with wolves is verbal and non verbal. Wolves are masters of body language and respond to it immediately. We use the positive reward method of training. The wolves are never forced to do anything. Wolves love to learn and revel in praise, reward and affection. Ear scratches or belly scratches are the best! Wolves souls are wild and free. You can only ask, you can never tell a wolf to do anything; they do it because they want to.

What was a typical day of shooting The Wolf That Changed America like?

The typical day of shooting began at 4:00 a.m. The trainers would arrive at Wasatch Rocky Mountain Wildlife and load the wolves in their cozy trailer. It was always before dawn and sometimes the wolves would look at us like, “Are you serious? We’re getting up this early again?” By call time (5:30 a.m.), the wolves were excited and ready to work.

Usually, we would shoot from 5:30 to 12:00 noon. We would let the wolves rest in the middle of the day and begin shooting around 4 p.m. until the sun went down. The days were long but the people involved made up for the lack of sleep!

How did the wolves react to the camera and crew?

The most positive aspect of this shoot was the fact that it was so small! We had a cameraman, a director, a production assistant, and the wolf trainers. A couple of days we had a soundman. This made up a crew of six or seven which worked so wonderfully for the wolves. The wolves were able to know everyone and were very comfortable performing.

Describe some difficult or frustrating moments you had on the shoot with the wolves.

The most difficult time on the shoot was a night shoot. The temperature dropped below 0 degrees Fahrenheit and most of us were not prepared for the weather to turn that quickly!

Have you ever been frightened by one of your wolves?

No.

What are some of your favorite memories of handling wolves throughout your career?

Some of my favorite memories are, of course, wolf puppies. There is nothing more precious than a baby wolf howl. 

What can humans learn from wolves?

The sense of utter and complete devotion to family. An alpha male wolf will hunt and bring back food in this “belly basket” and regurgitate it for his mate and pups. The alpha male will starve himself in the process if necessary. The bond of a wolf is about loyalty, and it is unbreakable.

I’ve really enjoyed the camaraderie, friendship and company of the production crew and have fortified my huge admiration for a team of people that will remain very special in my thoughts for years to come.

Their dedication, tenacity and downright endurance in capturing and portraying the incredible wonders of our wildlife are facets that any of my trainee expedition members would learn heaps from.

I can’t wait to see the final programme, which is part of the new series of Natural World; scheduled to be aired on BBC 2 in the new year.

I’ve also journeyed in so many other ways too. From the emotional ups and downs of a gravely ill mother, for whom I nearly had to depart from this project, to the in-depth knowledge I’ve gathered from my team of wildlife experts.

I have also wrestled with what style of book to write and how should that book be (I’m still not sure); finally, the incredible journey of discovering what an Arctic summer is like in all its glory.

Goodbye to Lucy

As for the wolves, the subject of our expedition, my experience has been nothing less than magical.

Luckily I came here with an open mind because, like so many others, I was brought up on the fears and fables of wicked wolves, such as the ones in Little Red Riding Hood and Three Little Pigs.

Having encountered real wild wolves many times during my winter expeditions I have built up a huge amount of respect based on their obviously complex behaviour and their tolerance of such adverse conditions.

This respect has been enhanced on this trip, especially by a bonding with one particular wolf – Lucy.

I met her in the first few days of being here and spent an hour-and-a-half alone with her on my penultimate day; it was as if she had come to say goodbye.

My overall thought, as I sit finishing this report, is how incredibly privileged I feel to have experienced such a wonderful summer and if I have any words of wisdom they are these.

All too easily, we consider ourselves bound by our daily activities and often trivial commitments.

Take a look at these boundaries and if you feel the need to experience life beyond them then prepare yourself carefully and when you feel the time is right, go beyond that comfort zone and extend the realm of your experience.

I feel as though I represent the embodiment of a normal person, but many years ago decided not to be bound by “normal”.

Since then I’ve come to learn that almost everyone has more under their bonnet than they believe and that many dreams and aspirations are truly achievable. Live life to the full, you won’t regret it.

Before I sign off for the final time, it would be remiss of me not to acknowledge the enormous help given to me by the crew: Charlotte Godfrey; Jonny Keeling; Mark Smith; “H” (Harry Hoskyns-Abrahall); Mike Dilger; Ian McCarthy; and of course the bosses, Fergus Beeley and Tim Martin.

Finally, my family – Lori, Mac, Kirsty and Helen – who constantly and loyally put up with my absence, and the Walker family for hosting a fantastic surprise return party!

It was 0300 and Mark and “H” were off filming the snowy owls feeding their young with freshly hunted lemming – or at least trying to. Despite the fact that Mark had spent nine hours in the hide, he’d only seen the male come back twice with food for the chicks.

I was looking after camp as usual and a good job too!

I was sat in the tent, deeply into this book about sailing around the world, when a noise pulled me back into the land of the living.

I looked back towards the entrance of the tent, and who was there but Lucy. She’d come back to see me after all this time.

I quickly grabbed my camera, altered the lens and got out the other side of the tent to see that she and two companions were nosing about in the trailer.

They all started to run off, despite my gentle greetings, but it wasn’t long before Lucy returned and we managed to spend the next hour-and-a-half in each others’ company.

It was really magical, just what I needed to inspire me again. It had been so long since we last saw them that we’d almost given up.

At 0430, Mark and “H” turned up from the hide, and having passed the wolf den on the way back, knew they were around again.

Mark, as ever, immediately got the camera into action and was capturing bits and pieces of behaviour.

By 0600 the wolves had all gone back to the den for a sleep, so we took our chance to sleep as well.

Rising at 1400 turned out to be perfect timing.

Having had breakfast, washed down with some tea, the wolves were on the move again. They passed our camp and headed westward, with Mark and “H” following.

Our hide, dubbed the “sweat box”, was moved from near Sally the snowy owl up to the fox den where Mark and producer “H” were concentrating their efforts.

There had been little sign of the wolves except for three young ones who came back to the den to rest and play for about 24 hours before disappearing. We’re all hoping to see them again before we leave.

The whole of River Three was covered with chicks – ruddy turnstone, sandpipers, jaegers and snow bunting – all being protected by their parents as they wandered around the riverbeds.

It’s amazing what pluck some of the parents have. I was driving the All-Terrain Vehicle (ATV) down to the beach on a test run, having fixed the vehicle, and to my astonishment this ruddy turnstone leapt out in front of me apparently pretending to have a hurt wing.

I slammed on the brakes coming to a halt less than one metre from the bird and saw that she’d been protecting her young chicks a couple of metres further on. Lovely to see!

In my previous entry, I promised to reveal the real identity of “H”. He is, in fact, Harry Hoskyns-Abrahall, who has just turned 32 years old. We celebrated by cooking him real pancakes.

He is a seriously all-round good egg, as far as I am concerned. Dashingly handsome, six feet and five inches tall, a thick head of dark hair, complete with square jaw, kind blue eyes and good teeth – if he was a horse I’d buy him.

Harry’s a really nice guy and a knowledgeable and truly dedicated wildlife enthusiast. Fergus – the boss in Bristol, you may remember – refers to him as his “feral friend”.

“H” is the one who sits for hours on end, some way away from the hide, advising Mark about what’s happening around him so Mark can capture the event on video.

We would like you to erect a dark cloth tent approximately 1.5m in length, breadth and height in an exposed, windy and cold position; crawl into it with a very big tripod, a large camera with enormous lens, a tiny stool, some lunch, dinner and breakfast; a couple of thermos flasks; some warm clothing (hats, gloves, down jacket, etc.) and a good book.

We would then like you to stay there, awake and alert, for the next 11-and-a-half hours to film something that may or may not occur. Do not let on that you are in there, act covertly, and do not come out until you are helped out by someone else.

This is precisely what Mark Smith, our cameraman, did to film Sally the snowy owl and her first few chicks feeding.

With the nest about 25m away, Mark couldn’t make the slightest noise in case it would frighten Sally away or she’d look at the camera. Such dedication, patience and downright personal suffering continue to amaze me.

When I went to collect Mark on the ATV at 0600, he insisted on walking the 3km back to camp “to try to get my head back together”, he said. I could fully understand what he meant.

As a person that puts up with a fair amount of suffering myself, on my solo polar expeditions in particular, you can imagine we have quite interesting conversations before bedtime.

In the next instalment I’m going to reveal who producer “H” really is – cue the James Bond theme.

Perhaps not concentrating quite so much on the wolves and bringing the other wildlife to the fore. The chances of filming the wolves predating, we had to admit, was extremely remote and we would be incredibly lucky.

This was mostly because of our inability to follow the wolves. They are able to get across the tundra’s rock-hard hummocks far better than we can on our ATVs. So it was back to seeking out new areas and different wildlife.

But first, it was time for Jonny to depart and for our re-supply to arrive; along with a replacement ATV for the one which I had pulled the handle bars off.

This was quite a major undertaking because, as the light was better at night, we’d been working during the normal night time and sleeping during the day.

Having just gone to bed, we had to get up at 0700 to give the charter aircraft company the local weather conditions. We then gathered up all the excess kit and Jonny’s personal belongings and loaded them in the trailer.

Plane pick-up

Mark deserved a well-earned rest, so he stayed back at camp while Jonny and I walked the hard 10km to the airstrip while “H” drove the ATV and trailer; not an easy or comfortable option by any means.

The day was really hot with no wind at all, and the mosquitoes were plaguing Jonny and me. On several occasions, Jonny even resorted to using his bug head-over. This is a net that covers your entire head to prevent the little pests sucking your blood out. It’s only partially effective and makes you even hotter.

We got to the top of a ridge overlooking the airstrip we had used three weeks earlier and could see the “dead” ATV ready to be returned.

Just as we reached the ridge, the plane came in and landed, but not on the strip. Instead, the pilot touched down on the beach of a nearby large lake. Apparently, the pilot had not been told about the strip and landed where he could.

I set off for the aircraft while Jonny went to drive the stricken ATV over to the aircraft. Meanwhile, the crew had unloaded the new ATV and began making their way over to the airstrip.

The pilot, Richie, apologised for not landing on the strip and said he would fly the aircraft over to the airstrip, which was pretty fortunate as the broken ATV didn’t want to start up again.

Musky smell

My job was to get the new supplies back to camp whilst “H” explored a nearby valley.

It was quite a journey back. I took a high route over the nearby mountain, too high in fact, and had “fun” trying to get down the slope without turning over. Then I had to negotiate the tundra hummocks which, with the big load, took ages and pounded my back which I had damaged the previous week.

Eventually, having made it back to camp with my back in shatters, we set about seeing what goodies the plane had brought us.

Fresh fruit – ah! Pop drinks – ooh! Crackers – ee! More coffee and tea – all were greeted with great delight. We were feeling a little more civilised, as it had been a whole month since “H” and I had had real food.

The evening brought a great surprise. A whole herd of musk oxen came over the brow of the eastern river bank to munch away at the hairy lousewort and drink in the river. The wind was blowing in a direction that meant the animals “cannot smell us”, Mark explained.

There were 16 of them in total, including four young ones. I’m always amazed at how secure they look on steep ground. It was a lovely end to a very hard and long day.