Beyond the southern tip of India
lies a jewel in the ocean -
Sri Lanka.
It's a land of extraordinary beauty,
of jungles, mountains and vast, fertile plains.
A rich variety of animals live here.
Many of them are found nowhere else.
But for me, one animal stands out.
It's totally iconic and instantly recognised right around the globe.
Sri Lanka is home to its own unique subspecies of the Asian elephant.
They look very different from their African cousins.
Their ears are smaller, their foreheads domed
and their backs more arched.
I'm intrigued to find out just how deep those differences go.
I really want to get to know them and their world.
For me, it's the chance of a lifetime.
Sri Lankans have a deeply spiritual relationship with nature.
For 30 years, their country was torn apart by civil war.
Now that's over, they want to welcome people back
to share their natural riches.
Theirs is a vibrant culture
and one that has always lived close to wildlife.
And their relationship with elephants is particularly special.
CHAINS JANGLE
Elephants also have a very special place in my heart.
I'm a wildlife cameraman and elephants are my great passion.
I've spent many years filming them all over Africa,
but I've never filmed Sri Lankan elephants
and that's why I'm here.
For me, Sri Lanka's hard-won peace offers a golden opportunity
to get to know its elephants and the world they live in.
My destination is Uda Walawe National Park,
in the south of the country.
With me is elephant scientist Shermin de Silva.
If anyone can help me get to know the elephants, Shermin can.
It's the end of the dry season and the vegetation is pretty sparse.
I'm hoping that'll make the elephants easier to spot.
Ooh - there's an elephant! Oh, yep.
It's amazing!
I had no idea it was there and I suddenly saw it!
They disappear in the grass quite easily.
They're really good at hiding actually.
'It's great to see one so quickly.'
Physically, they're similar in many ways to the African elephants
I know so well, though their ears are significantly smaller.
Shermin tells me we know relatively little
about the behaviour of these elephants.
She's been studying them for seven years - a lot less than the
many decades that scientists have been studying African elephants.
The first challenge is always to find ways
to identify individual elephants
and to try to understand the relationships in the herd.
At this relatively early stage of her research,
even Shermin sometimes struggles.
Studying seven years is not a long time compared to the
lifespan of an elephant, I don't really quite know who's related.
Some of them, the younger ones, I know are mother and calf pairs,
but the older ones, I'm only guessing that they're families.
A lot of people would come out and they'd say these
elephants all look exactly the same, but I mean,
as I know from African elephants,
you learn how to recognise individuals very quickly.
Now, for me coming here for the first time,
it's quite difficult for me at the moment to separate out these
individuals so I'm going to have to use all these visual clues.
You're going to have to learn a lot of ears and tails,
and pretty much anything that's distinctive, you make use of it. Yeah.
'There's something magical about these animals.
'It's not just their size, or that slow, peaceful way they have.
'It's the way they seem to think.
'They're as interested in me as I am in them.'
Very close. Are you curious?
ELEPHANT SNORTS
ELEPHANT SQUEALS
Oh, what an amazing sound. That's a squeal.
What a great sound!
That's incredible.
'It's great to get so close.'
'But this one's not so happy about it.'
ELEPHANT GROANS
'Whoa! That's not good.
'Two of them have taken a dislike to our support vehicle.
'That head down and ears-forward stance is a threat posture.
'And that's serious.'
Elephants are said to have killed 50 people in Sri Lanka last year.
ELEPHANT GROANS
There was no cue, or anything like that.
No, she just decided that she didn't like the car being there.
It must be quite invasive, mustn't it, a very loud diesel engine?
Yeah, and the engine sounds so similar to their vocalisations,
it's in the same frequency range.
Yeah, there must be a lot of infra sound coming out of this car
so it probably sounds much louder to them than it does to us.
Right. Yes.
'I'm starting to notice subtle details of behaviour.
'The elephants here swipe clumps of grass against their feet
'before eating it - something I've not seen before.'
'It seems to be their way of knocking off the sand
'and dust that sticks to the roots when they pull it from the ground.'
She's lifting her foot right up
and just deliberately smacking the toenails. Yes.
'Shermin tells me this is a trick
'they have to learn from their parents.
'The behaviour is passed down, from one generation to the next.'
As with their African cousins,
Sri Lankan elephants have a matriarchal society.
Groups are made up of females and youngsters.
But the size of the groups is quite different.
African families can be 30 or 40 strong.
Here, I can see far fewer animals in each so-called social unit.
And Shermin explains that the Sri Lankan elephant's
social system seems to be less fixed and more fluid.
The herd covers the whole park.
But it's made up of many smaller units and the elephants
switch between them as and when they please.
There's one thing I've seen here that's just
the same as African elephants.
The bond between mother and baby is every bit as strong.
I've always thought you learn a lot about elephants
by watching them with their young.
These little ones are already six months old.
What I'd really like to see is how they behave
with their new born babies.
So I've tried to time my trip with the arrival of the monsoon,
when there's the best chance of a new baby being born.
As I travel through Uda Walawe,
the whole park seems to be waiting for the rains.
Peacocks are the heralds of the monsoon.
PEACOCK SQUAWKS
As the rains approach, the males' elaborate tails grow
and the courtship displays begin.
The birds give me confidence I won't have long to wait.
In the meantime, Shermin has someone else she wants me to meet.
She takes me to look at another side of elephant life here in Sri Lanka.
An insight into the challenges they face growing up here.
This is an area on the very edge of Uda Walawe Park.
The Elephant Transit Home, or ETH for short.
Meet the gang.
All these elephants are orphans -
their families either killed or separated.
The ETH hopes to release all 28 of them back into the wild.
But first,
these little ones must learn as much as possible about elephant society.
With no family around, that means learning from each other.
But who's to say learning can't be fun?
For these orphans, bath time is a highlight of the day.
They're a joy to watch.
It's heartening to see these unfortunate elephants
so relaxed and content.
Shermin wants me to meet one particular elephant.
This is Namal.
He's just two-and-a-half years old.
He was found a year ago, tangled in a snare.
He's been here ever since.
Namal can't play with the gang at bath time.
His only company is his keeper, Salinda.
Luckily, they seem to be good friends.
But he's obviously missing out on the social bonding
that elephants need if they're to prosper.
It's not just about learning - it's about belonging.
Playing with Salinda is fun,
but it's no substitute for the company of other elephants.
Like toddlers everywhere,
Namal is quite a handful.
When he leaves the water,
it becomes obvious why Namal can't play with the other orphans.
When ETH rescued him from the snare, they couldn't save his leg.
The prosthetic limb helps him get around.
But he's just too fragile and nervous to hang out with the gang.
The caring staff here tell me that there is hope.
Apart from his disability, Namal is a normal, healthy calf.
He's smart enough to save Salinda the trouble of rubbing him dry.
And, like any youngster, he's always keen to make friends.
But as Vijitha Perera, the head vet at ETH, explains,
the trouble is, Namal now sees humans as family.
Oh, so he actually prefers human company to elephants?
Yeah. Right.
So that wouldn't be good if he were released back. Yeah.
Namal will never return to the wild.
What's so sad is that after a year in ETH's care,
he's still not strong enough to spend time with the other orphans.
But Vijitha tells me he's growing fast. His time may yet come.
ETH's aim isn't to teach elephants how to live with humans.
They must learn to live with each other,
and ultimately with other wild elephants.
In fact, the further these orphans stay away from humans, the better.
Last year, people killed 228 elephants in Sri Lanka.
That's what's brought the orphans here in the first place.
If they're to return to the wild, it's best to steer clear of people.
I can't help thinking about the challenges these animals face.
The gang are unperturbed.
That's the wonderful thing about childhood.
The future always seems a long way off.
Change is coming.
I can sense something different in the air.
The monsoon is about to begin.
Cool air from the Himalayas sweeps down India's eastern coast,
warming and picking up water as it goes.
Eventually, these warm wet winds reach Sri Lanka.
Rain lashes the land.
The water will trigger lush new growth.
Fresh pasture for hungry elephants.
BIRDS CALL
As the land becomes saturated, the air comes alive.
Flying termites, newly hatched.
Each insect might be the founder of a new colony.
But I know very few will succeed.
The whole place feels more alive,
like it's waking up from a long sleep.
The elephants are taking advantage of the monsoon's gifts as well -
an entire tree brought down by the wind.
Males and females have gathered to make the most of it.
Usually elephant groups are strictly females and young only.
Adult males are normally solitary, or hang out with other males.
But here, males and females tolerate each other
as they all take advantage of the windfall.
It's a rare treat to see so many animals together.
I finally feel like I'm beginning to really get to know them.
There's one particular individual that I've already got to know called Deepa.
And she has amazing ears. They're torn on the edges.
Rather like drapes, like curtains.
And she's always flapping them.
And they flap, because they're quite small,
they flap right across their eyes, so I'm sure part of it is that
they're actually getting rid of flies around their eyes.
But they're very expressive at the same time
because her ears are particularly flappy and loose
and so she's always slapping them against her shoulder blades.
But they're always flapping them and you can hear
when they slap against their bodies the sort of sound they make.
And I think there's a lot going on with Asian elephant ears
in terms of communication with each other.
These two females are flapping their ears in absolute synchrony.
I am sure that this represents some sort of visual greeting.
Everywhere I look, I find new mysteries
and new points of connection.
This male is repeatedly curling his trunk up against his cheek.
In African elephants, that's a sure sign of stress.
I'm puzzled as to what's bothering him.
It soon becomes clear.
I don't know what killed this elephant.
Inside the reserve, it's unlikely to have been people.
He pays his respects... and moves on.
It's a reminder that there are hidden depths to these animals
that we can only begin to understand.
Once a year, normally during the monsoon,
glands in front of the ears swell up.
Both these males are in a state of musth.
Their testosterone soars to 60 times its normal level.
They're restless, aggressive, and ready to fight.
I can tell that both these males are in their prime.
Males tend to lose their grey pigmentation as they get older.
The clash is like nothing I've seen in Africa.
Despite their age and size, neither of these giants has tusks.
African elephants fight with their heads up and tusks locked.
But here, the heads are down.
And curiously, they hold the tips of their trunks in their mouths.
If this was Africa,
both would have tusks, perhaps a couple of metres long.
It seems that after centuries of ivory hunting,
only tuskless males are left.
But even without tusks, this is a fight only one of them can win.
Why most males go into musth during the monsoon is a mystery.
Females are sexually receptive, on and off, all year round.
I think this has more to do with dominance than sex.
I've been here almost a month now,
and I'm getting used to the relaxed rhythm of life in the park.
I've seen a good variety of elephant behaviour,
though it's frustrating
that I still haven't been able to see them with a newborn calf.
It's two weeks since the monsoon began in earnest.
As the rivers flood, countless fish hurry to spawn.
Their young will get the best possible start...
..assuming the adults ever get that far.
This is boom time for predators, too.
With so many fish on the menu,
choosing the right starter isn't easy.
And somewhere out there, there's a fish even for the smallest appetite.
I decide to head back to the orphan elephants at ETH,
to catch up with how they're getting on.
I think the gang are glad to see me!
Most wild elephants of this age would have been weaned by now.
But these guys still get regular bottle feeds.
They form an orderly line.
But Namal comes first.
He's still not strong enough to feed with the others.
Unlike the rest of the gang, this is milk he actually needs.
But it's still a treat - one he always looks forward to.
The others will have to wait their turn.
In the wild, suckling strengthens the bond between mother and calf.
It's sad to think that the closest Namal has to a parent is Salinda.
The others don't even have that.
The keeper in charge of maintaining order in the gang
does so with his back turned.
It's part of ETH's policy
of keeping contact with the orphans to a minimum.
Only when Namal is done do the others get their turn,
a few at a time.
They have impeccable manners.
They seem to know they're only allowed a jug-full each.
Then, very politely, off they go
and the next customer takes their place.
For the ETH staff, this is a tricky balancing act.
They must support the orphans
without compromising their release into the wild.
We know so little about their wild behaviour, it's hard to know
what aspects of elephant education the gang are missing out on.
But this is the only chance they've got of getting back into the wild.
I've only got a couple of weeks left here
and the weather is making filming difficult.
We have spent days keeping our eyes peeled for a newborn calf.
Just as we're heading home for the day,
one crosses the road right in front of us.
ELEPHANT TRUMPETS
Then, frustratingly, it's gone again.
And it's clear we're not welcome.
ELEPHANTS TRUMPET
Suddenly, the elephants are on us.
They make it very clear they want us gone.
We back off, but they follow.
A stand-off.
I'm intrigued by the strange squeaking noises they make
and this peculiar breath-checking.
But the elephants clearly want us to leave them alone.
So that's exactly what we do.
I've rarely seen African elephants so defensive,
but I'm hopeful I might get a little closer tomorrow.
The monsoon rains have produced an explosion of greenery.
Adult elephants are still easy to spot.
In fact they're hard to miss.
But the babies are just a metre high.
But finally, persistence pays off.
This calf is just a day old.
It's exactly what I've been looking for.
A chance to see how the adults behave around such a tiny baby.
Of course, everyone wants to meet the new arrival.
But the female standing over the baby is not the mother,
just part of the group.
She seems to be behaving rather strangely.
She's trying to shove the calf's mum out of the way.
It's as if she wants the baby for herself.
Not surprisingly, the mum isn't happy about it.
With all the shoving, I'm worried the calf could be injured.
The calf's grandmother takes the baby aside.
The females will have to sort this out for themselves.
This is completely bewildering.
African elephants sometimes kidnap a calf from another family
as a display of dominance.
But I don't think that's what's happening here.
Perhaps Asian elephants play by different rules.
The conflict is a real shock.
What's even more shocking is the outcome.
The mother loses the fight.
So that was sort of...head up...
They just sort of hit each other, didn't they?
Mm-hm. Almost like males. Almost like males.
And it's very rare you get females actually showing overt aggression.
Yeah, that's really interesting.
They'll usually just avoid each other without ever having made contact. Right.
The calf is too young to know what's going on.
But it's now following a strange female instead of its mother.
The female should know better.
What will she do with a calf she can't even feed?
Why steal it in the first place?
Shermin has an answer.
And suddenly it all makes sense.
The female's name is Athimali, and she was an orphan.
She grew up at the ETH, with no adults to teach her.
There, the older orphans take the youngsters under their wing.
To Athimali, this isn't stealing.
It's sharing.
How could she know better?
And what's she going to do now?
Athimali moves her leg to make space for the calf to suckle,
but it's not her calf.
She has no milk.
This could turn out really badly for the baby.
But there's nothing I can do.
The afternoon rains are on their way.
I just hope we'll be able to find the baby again tomorrow.
At the Transit Home, there's better news for Namal.
Weaning is an important step towards joining the rest of the gang,
though not all the bananas seem to be up to his exacting standards!
For now, he dines alone.
But I hope one day he'll be strong enough
to enjoy the company of the other orphans.
The keepers tell me he came incredibly close to dying.
He's lucky to be alive.
But elephants are such social creatures.
A life in solitary is not much of a life at all.
As Namal hoovers up the last of his treats,
the gang returns to its temporary life, safe on the edge of the park.
One day they will leave here.
For most of these animals, there's hope for a happier future.
But I now know that their time in captivity can create problems.
I'm still worried about Athimali and her stolen calf.
Finding them again could be a huge challenge.
When I next go out, I find elephants,
but not the ones I'm looking for.
Elephants love water - the muddier the better, it seems!
Each one comes with a built-in sprinkler system.
It makes spraying on the sun block a breeze.
Like so much in elephant life,
first you have to learn how to do it.
Controlling a metre of flexible pipework turns out to be tricky.
Some animals do everything by instinct.
They're born knowing everything they'll need.
For young elephants, it's all about learning.
And learning about mud is high on the agenda.
I'm sure mud makes a great insect repellent.
Even with a hide as thick as an elephant's,
biting insects are a constant annoyance.
There are millions of them.
Plagued by mosquitoes and midges, buffaloes take to the water.
At least their bodies are protected, if not their heads.
A handy platform for a hungry heron.
It seems everyone has an itch to scratch.
Or if you're lucky, a friend to scratch it for you.
I've noticed that some of the male elephants here have developed
a neat trick to deal with the problem.
One of the really interesting things I have seen here,
which I didn't see in African elephants, was animals
deliberately breaking off branches and using them as fly swats.
We found a bull the other day where this was clearly what he was doing.
He didn't eat the piece of vegetation
that he was using to swat flies.
He specifically broke it off, it was a certain size,
and he had a distinct pattern of hitting one side,
hitting the other side, hitting between his legs,
hitting across the front of his trunk.
So that was really, really fascinating tool use.
And I've never seen that so specifically in African elephants.
For some reason, I only ever see males doing this.
Perhaps, because the males live apart from the females,
most females haven't had a chance to learn the trick.
It's a powerful reminder of just how intelligent these animals are,
and how important learning is to them.
This is a trick that each new generation must learn
from the others around them.
I just hope the orphan elephants will find
a way to develop these skills.
I still have no idea if Athimali has figured out
that what she did was wrong.
The elephants are so spread out here that finding a particular animal
is incredibly difficult, let alone a particular calf.
Females and their young drift between groups,
as and when they please.
At long last, I'm seeing plenty of youngsters!
The trouble is, none of them is the one I'm after.
The calf that Athimali stole is nowhere to be seen.
I can't help but worry about how the stolen baby is doing.
And then, finally, I find the calf with its real mother.
I have no idea when it happened, or how.
Perhaps there was another fight.
Perhaps Athimali got bored and wandered off.
I'm sure that, in time, she'll learn to do better.
It's a huge relief to see a happy outcome.
These animals have such a sophisticated social system.
It's their greatest strength,
but it also makes them fragile.
Continuity has always been the cornerstone of their lives.
But their world is changing fast and I'm concerned for their future.
It's time for me to say goodbye.
The monsoon is nearly over
and it won't be long before I leave Sri Lanka.
This is the perfect time to release a few of the more mature orphans.
It's the moment everyone's been waiting for.
The hours of patient care,
the effort to keep the elephants at a distance.
I think the elephants' loose herd structure makes it easier
for the orphans to adapt to a life in the wild.
The herd is so dispersed, the orphans can wander as they please.
They can find their place in elephant society
in their own time and on their own terms.
In the last 15 years,
ETH have released 90 elephants back into the wild.
84 of them are alive, and doing well.
There's hope here.
This is a system that works.
It's good to leave knowing that the future is bright
for the rest of the gang.
One day, they too will return to the wild.
They will have to build on what they've already learned -
their own orphan version of elephant society.
It won't be long before I have to say goodbye to Namal.
I've loved getting to know him.
And I've been told that today could be a big day for him.
The monsoon has brought new little luxuries.
A mud bath is the perfect way to start this special day.
I know he'll never be fit enough for release into the wild.
I can't help feeling sorry for him.
Not that Namal's one for complaining.
He's been positive and outgoing since the day they first found him.
And now, all that hard work and patience is going to pay off.
At long last, he's big enough to meet the gang.
This is what elephants are made for.
It's what they need more than anything else.
He's made his first proper friends...
..and it looks like he's loving every minute of it.
This has been a fascinating journey.
Trying to follow individuals through the monsoon has been hard.
But I've seen and learnt a lot.
Athimali stealing a calf.
A lone male visiting the dead.
In some ways, they're so different to elephants in Africa.
In other ways, they're much the same.
For both, elephant life is all about learning and relationships.
But here, I've seen those relationships take their own unique form.
It's hard to say goodbye to Namal and his friends.
They have all become very special to me.
I will certainly never forget my time here in Sri Lanka.