Specially chosen programmes from the BBC archive.
For this collection, Sir David Attenborough
has chosen documentaries from the start of his career.
More programmes on this theme
and other BBC Four Collections are available on BBC iPlayer.
That beautiful ship was trading and sailing in the Java Sea.
It was travelling through the islands of Indonesia and beyond to Sumatra
in the west, to New Guinea in the east, up north to the Philippines.
We saw it as we were travelling back from Borneo.
We had been in Borneo for two weeks,
here, collecting and filming animals.
And we were trying to get to the little island of Komodo down there,
but, unfortunately, we couldn't find a ship which would take us there.
The only ship we could get hold of was going to come back here to Java.
Well, we arrived in Java and we deposited all our animals,
and we said goodbye to our guide and interpreter
who'd been with us in Borneo, and then Charles Lagus and I
set about the task of getting down here through Bali to Komodo.
Very luckily, we managed to get a small truck.
And we loaded all our baggage into the truck, in the back,
together with the film and the equipment
and off we set eastwards through Java.
Of course, we didn't take the main roads.
We tried to keep away from the main part of Java
and travelled through the bush country,
which, of course,
meant that we had a certain amount of difficulties on our way.
But, of course, we couldn't expect to see many animals
while we were driving at 30 miles an hour in a Jeep.
So, when we came to interesting forest, like this,
we stopped and walked into the bush.
At first, the forest seems lifeless and deserted,
except for the chirping crickets.
CRICKETS CHIRP
But, if you sit down, keep quiet and are patient,
then animals will soon appear.
These are among the loveliest
and are certainly the most agile of all the forest animals -
the acrobatic gibbons.
It was early in the morning, just after dawn,
and the gibbons were out looking for breakfast.
Some fruit, flowers, or maybe a few birds' eggs.
We kept absolutely quiet and they didn't notice us,
but hung a few yards away, eating in the tree tops.
But soon, one spotted us.
And he raised the alarm.
GIBBON BARKS
HE BARKS LOUDER
And then, with amazing speed and agility,
the whole troop leapt away through the branches.
On our way through Java, we passed many beautiful buildings.
But we saw none more lovely than the beautiful Buddhist temple
of Borobudur, which was built over 1,000 years ago.
PEOPLE CHANT AND SING
It rises, tier upon tier, shrine upon shrine,
until, at the top, there is one final, gigantic monument.
BELLS RING AND PEOPLE SING
But Java is a country not only of temples but of volcanoes.
And our route eastwards took us past the still active crater of Bromo.
The jeep couldn't take us up the mountain
so, in the early dawn one morning,
we met some hillmen and tried to hire some ponies.
As always, a little bargaining
was not only a necessity to fix the price,
but also the polite thing to do.
Soon, everything was agreed and we set off.
By midday, the volcano collects a blanket of cloud above it.
But now, at five o'clock in the morning, it was still quite clear.
To get to the crater, we had to descend onto a great plane,
a sea of sand which surrounds the central cone.
Now the ground steepened
and we had to leave the horses and continue on foot.
VOLCANO RUMBLES LOUDLY
Looking down into the depths of the crater,
it seemed easy enough to clamber right down to that central vent,
but our guides would go no further,
for they said the crater was full of invisible pockets of poison gas,
and that people who had gone farther down had never returned.
Even from where we were standing, the air was full of choking,
sulphurous fumes and the ground beneath our feet
shook as the clouds of poisonous smoke belched out from the vent.
It's down there that sacrifices are thrown every year
to placate the god of the volcano.
These days, only chickens, cloth and money,
but in olden times, the sacrifice was a human one.
We left the volcano with the clouds gathering in a shroud above it
and continued on our way.
And the next day, we reached the southern coast of Java
and the sea - the Indian Ocean.
Here was an ideal place for a meal and a swim.
So, while Charles gathered wood to make the fire -
we took it in turns to do the cooking and it was his day on duty -
I left him to walk across the beach to see what could be found.
And one of the first things I came across was the shell of a turtle.
If turtles used this beach, it occurred to me
that there might be a chance that we could find a turtle's nest with eggs
which would be a very welcome addition to the rice, bananas
and bully beef on which we'd been living
almost entirely for the past week.
And, sure enough, farther along the beach,
I found the tracks of a turtle.
I followed them.
And they ended in a shallow depression in the sand.
And here, buried three feet deep, were the eggs.
The turtle buries them as deep as this so that the eggs will remain
at an even temperature and not get too hot by day or too cold by night.
They were just like soft, leathery ping-pong balls.
There were 88 eggs in that nest,
enough to provide us with breakfast for many days to come.
And they were all produced by one female turtle.
I must admit, I was pretty pleased with myself
when I brought them back to Charles.
Neither of us had tried turtle eggs before and neither of us
had any idea as to how to cook them.
But it seemed perhaps the easiest thing to do
was to try and scramble them.
Of course, you can't crack them as you can a chicken's egg.
We didn't realise that turtles' eggs are pretty salty in the first place
and we had cheerfully added as much salt
as if we were dealing with chickens' eggs.
The, uh...result...
HE LAUGHS
..though no doubt very nourishing,
wasn't, I'm afraid, particularly delicious.
We did, however, get better at it
by the time we'd eaten all 88 of them!
Nearby the beach was a small kampong
where we were able to spend the night.
That evening, all the villagers gathered around our truck to meet us.
I spoke to them through an interpreter
and asked what animals there were in the forest nearby.
I explained we wished to film some
and also maybe to catch some to take back to the London zoo.
And I offered rewards to anyone who could take us
to animals in the forest.
Our interpreter entered into the spirit of the thing
and explained volubly and with elaborate gestures
in Javanese what I had said.
They were all emphatic that their particular part of the jungle
was teeming with wildlife,
and that if that was all we wanted, well, we should go no further.
But no-one seemed to be able to explain
exactly what animals were to be found,
until one old man said, "Oh, yes, tuan.
"Many animals in this place. Very good place for animals.
"Why, only two weeks ago," he said,
"a tiger came into this very kampong and ate two men.
"This is a fine place for animals."
Well, I explained hastily that man-eating tigers
were not actually on our list of desirable animals to be caught.
And, as no-one seemed anxious to volunteer for the task
of catching the tiger, we let the subject drop.
We talked for a little time more and then one man said that
when he had been in the forest, a few days ago,
he had seen a very large snake in one of the trees.
"Maybe," he said, "it's still there."
Well, that sounded much more manageable to me
and the next day, with him as a guide, we set off to look for it.
CRICKETS CHIRP
And, sure enough, we found it.
It looked enormous and, from its size and markings,
I was quite sure that it was a python and, therefore, non-poisonous,
which was something of a relief.
It's important to grab his tail as soon as you grab his head,
otherwise he will wrap his great coils around you
and give you a very nasty squeeze.
And here he is in the studio.
Um...
The python is not a poisonous snake at all.
It kills its prey by squeezing it.
It doesn't actually crush the bones of its victims,
but it prevents them from breathing.
Not, of course, that it's any consolation to the victim.
He can bite. He's got quite powerful fangs.
I have been bitten by a python - it doesn't hurt much,
it's just like getting a couple of pinpricks in your hand,
and it leaves no ill effects at all. Well, helping me...
Helping me control this python
is Mr Lanworn from the Reptile House at the London Zoo
who, in fact, has it in his care now.
- How is he? - He's doing very fine, actually.
He's one of the best Indian pythons we've had for a good many years.
- You're pleased with him? - Yes, he's a very nice thing.
Of course, he should grow very much larger than this.
ATTENBOROUGH: What's the biggest python record?
LANWORN: The largest one of these was about 18 feet,
although there are some reticulated pythons
which come from Malaya that get up to about 30 feet.
That's the biggest, is it? That's the biggest in the world?
That's right. But this chap, he should get up to about 18 feet,
which we won't be able to do this with him
- when he is full-grown. - But he is quite a handful now.
ATTENBOROUGH: You can quite imagine how these powerful coils
- really give you quite a crush. - Oh, yes.
LANWORN: What do these feed on where you got this one from?
We feed them on rabbits and pigeons, of course.
ATTENBOROUGH: Well, I wasn't sure. There were a lot of squirrels
and tree shrews and things like that,
but he had quite a swelling in him when we caught him
and I wondered whether he might have had a monkey.
LANWORN: It's quite possible, because they do like monkeys, yes.
I'm afraid he won't get many monkeys in Regent's Park.
ATTENBOROUGH: Delighted to hear that.
These beautiful markings, of course,
these are protective colourations, aren't they?
LANWORN: Amongst the trees and branches, it must be very difficult
to see a snake like this unless it actually moves.
ATTENBOROUGH: Well, fortunately, we knew where he was.
At least, one of the Javanese told us where he was.
That in itself rather surprised me because one would have thought that,
if one saw a snake in the jungle, that he would be away in any time.
It seems that these big ones have their own little beat. Is that true?
LANWORN: I think it is.
Until they've eaten all the type of food in that area, then they move on.
ATTENBOROUGH: Well, certainly he must have stayed there for about a week
until he took his long journey to the London Zoo,
where at least he's going to get...
He's doing it.
It's a very good example how he constricts his food.
ATTENBOROUGH: Shall I just show you or will you lose your hand?
LANWORN: No, I don't think so. I'll be able to get out eventually.
Well, I think we'll untie you later. Thank you very much for coming.
Well, while I leave Mr Lanworn to untie himself from this snake,
we must say good night.
We shall be back again next week with some film of what happened
when we left Java and went on to Bali.
So, until then, from us both, good night.