Life's a Beach

Everyone loves the beach,

sun kissed,

exciting surf,

cute chicks.

To us, it's one giant playground,

but to wildlife, it's so much more.

It's a place to live, to find food,

to raise their young,

sandcastles and fish and chips.

No, the beach is full of surprises.

A giant, usually at home

roaming the deep oceans of the world is in the shallows.

She has a special destination in mind.

This is a scene unchanged for over 200 million years.

It's an epic struggle to drag a huge, heavy body

perfectly designed for swimming, but cumbersome on land.

But the reward will be worth it.

She manages to climb beyond the tide line,

but now the hard work really begins.

She's here to build a sandcastle,

a fortress to guard her legacy

about 100 ping pong ball sized eggs.

With the clutch laid, she tenderly covers the precious nest.

This is what her mother did and her grandmother,

and all female sea turtles through the ages.

With the eggs secured, she'll return to the sea,

knowing that she's left the next generation

with the best possible chance for survival,

a place that offers ideal temperatures, humidity,

and proximity to the sea.

The success of all sea turtles depends on this one thing:

The beach.

The first thought the word conjures for us

is of summer vacations.

Sand castles, volleyball,

crunchy sandwiches,

donkey rides,

and ice cream.

Beaches first started drawing summer visitors

back in the 1700s.

It was the birthplace of tourism.

During the 1800s, beach side resorts sprung up

and became places where city folk

could escape the hustle and bustle, relax and have fun.

Most of us see beaches as giant playgrounds.

It's easy to forget that they are also vital habitats,

homes to myriads of animals.

In Iceland, Arctic foxes scavenge,

never knowing what treats the sea might wash up.

Australia's tropical beaches,

when not covered in sun worshipers,

are patrolled by cassowaries,

using the sand as a place to hang out and hookup.

And there's plenty of monkey business

on the warmer beaches in Japan.

And apart from their importance to animals,

features are landscapes that influence weather,

erosion and water quality.

We need beaches for more than just R&R.

And so do many other species.

When we think of beaches, we picture summer sun.

But it's in winter when the crowds have gone,

that it's easiest to see its important to nature.

Though storm battered and ice blasted,

the beaches of the North Atlantic are once again

witnessing the start of life.

Gray seals have a rude arrival.

Born into a windswept winter,

the wind helps dry the wet fur.

Once they're fluffy and white,

the downy fur protects them from the cold.

But their real winter warmer is a thick layer of blubber.

Their body wraps of fat are fueled

by their mother's rich milk.

Cow's milk is about 3% fat.

The seal's milkshake diet is 50% fat.

The pups will gain two kilos in just three weeks.

That's calorie loading.

Most of us try to lose weight

to have the perfect beach body.

Seals do the opposite.

And they're not the only ones.

Winter beaches the world over attract birds

and not just a few, but vast flocks.

Wild fowl and waders leave their breeding grounds

in the polar regions to find shelter over winter.

Many waders weigh less than a golf ball,

but that doesn't stop them from being world travelers.

Some fly more than 10,000 kilometers nonstop.

Journeys can be as far as New Zealands to Alaska

with perhaps a quick break on the beach.

Some just use the beaches as fueling stations

and places to rest.

For others, this is their winter residence,

and it's all because of the abundant life at the beach.

Winter beach might appear desolate, but don't be fooled.

Every meter of sand might host millions of animals.

It's just that most of them are out of sight.

Worms,

crustaceans,

and tiny shell fish live under the sand.

Some are so tiny that they can even inhabit the spaces

between grains of sand.

They might not look very impressive,

but these tiny creatures

are some of the toughest on the planet.

For while we might think of the beach

as a place to relax and to play,

for wildlife, it's one of the hardest places

to make a living.

Several times a day their home is flooded

by the incoming tide.

They have to cope with the deluge,

salt water,

and the turbulence of the waves.

And when the sea retreats

and they're left high and dry

at risk of desiccation

it's a tough life.

But for those who master it, the rewards are rich.

Every tide washes in a soup of nutrients,

The animals are literally swimming in food.

And living a life buried in the sand

offers protection from most predators.

But not all.

Wading birds have developed huge variations in beak length

and shape to probe into the mud.

Shorter beaked species pick over the surface.

But others have long beaks,

godwits and striking oyster catches

have sword-like snouts for probing deep into the sand.

On Australian beaches the birds could be a lot bigger.

Pelicans drop in to feed.

Swimming in a row and using their throat pouches like nets.

They can drive fish into each other's beaks.

And while they are not feeding on the beach itself,

once they've eaten the sandbags offer a perfect place

to dry off and preen their plumage,

displacing the cormorants already trying to do the same.

Beaches provide the birds with rich pickings year round,

and especially while they try to weather the winter.

At this time of year, the sea is at its most turbulent.

Huge storms whip up giant waves that pound the beach.

It's a landscape for only the brain...

or foolhardy.

Beaches are in constant flux.

During the summer, waves constantly lap gently at the shore.

And as they do, they carry sand off the beach

and dump it into the deeper water.

As their erosion action eats into sandbanks,

it creates mini cliffs,

the ideal place for sand martins to nest.

These sparrow sized birds fly from Africa to Europe to nest

using their tiny legs to dig into the sand.

The steep soft substrate makes their colonies

almost impenetrable to would be predators.

But they are only temporary.

Over winter, the cliffs will be washed away.

And the next season, the martins will have to start again.

The constant eroding sand is washed off the beach,

gradually forming sandbars.

Now those bars protect the beach itself.

Some of the potentially devastating force of the waves

is absorbed by the sand bars before it hits the beach.

In this way, beaches protect the coastline

and human developments by taking the brunt of storms

and through their sand, absorbing the eroding waves.

Nonetheless, the action of waves and wind over the winter

will gradually shift sand back up the beach

piling it high in mounds, called dunes

that can even engulf buildings.

These are mountains of sand on the move.

Though many are gradually locked into place

by the roots of plants,

only coastal specialists can tolerate the dunes.

They have to cope with strong winds,

salt and water that sinks quickly through the dunes

and out of reach.

Grasses like marram are especially important.

As sand is piled on top, the grass keeps pushing through,

increasing the height of the dune

and cementing it in place with a network of roots.

Over time, the stabilized ground can be colonized

by other species

and gradually transforms to heathland.

Within dune systems, damp depressions might harbor orchids,

unusual insets and rare reptiles and amphibians

and eventually even creatures usually found further inland.

The dunes are a natural sea defense, protecting the land

from the forces of the sea

and sheltering the creatures at the beach.

The banks of sand and nurseries

where the gray seal pups can hang out.

Though they're only a few weeks old,

the comfortable life of sitting around

drinking milk is over.

Their mothers have a new agenda.

It's time for them to mate again.

Getting pregnant now to deliver next winter.

Huge bull seals come ashore.