Likewise, groups of dolphins or porpoises may also impersonate sea serpents. Proponents of monsters are often scornful of this explanation (which Willy Ley called “one of the favorite ‘explanations’ of many people who do not take the time to acquaint themselves” with the evidence),167 but I have seen this illusion. Sitting in a window seat of the tiny ferry that carries foot passengers between Seattle, Washington, and Victoria, British Columbia, I saw Cadborosaurus in broad daylight. When I noticed its rolling coils, my heart leaped into my throat. There I was, a “professional skeptic,” and I wanted to shout out loud. It was only with sustained observation that I was able to break down the illusion—and even then, my brain kept trying to interpret those porpoises as a sea serpent. The school of porpoises in Puget Sound looked exceedingly similar to a sketch made in 1872 after a sighting in the Gulf of Mexico near Galveston, Texas (figure 5.26). According to Captain Hassel of the three-masted St. Olaf, a school of sharks passed under the stern of his ship, and about two minutes later the crew spotted a 70-foot sea serpent. However, the sketch of the “serpent” shows three or four distinct, rounded objects—each with its own prominent triangular dorsal fin! That positively screams porpoise, dolphin, or shark—all of which are found in the region. (Assuming, of course, that it happened at all. A. C. Oudemans wrote of this case: “I don’t know whether the following … is a true hoax or an optical illusion, but I think it is a hoax.”)168
Figure 5.26 The sea serpent sighted from the St. Olaf near Galveston, Texas—“about two minutes” after a school of sharks passed the ship.
From the perspective of many cryptozoologists, these “group of X swimming in a line” explanations seem forced. “If so many otters around the world are ‘swimming in a line’ to fool eyewitnesses into thinking they are the loops of Sea Serpents or Lake Monsters, where are all of the photographs of such visual demonstrations?” asked Loren Coleman.169 Going for the pun, Coleman called the theory “otterly ridiculous”—only to post a photograph suggested by fellow cryptozoologist John Kirk a week later, acknowledging that “now I’ve been sent a clear instance where this behavior has been observed and photographed.”170 Naturalists observe such behavior in many species, but it is largely beside the point: the illusion does not depend on the animals moving in a line, but merely moving in any clustered group. This is one of the least appreciated important facts relevant to the sea serpent literature: thanks to perspectival effects, any distant cluster of objects at sea appears as a line when viewed from near sea level, as from a small boat or the shoreline. It is an effect that you can observe on your kitchen table. Just plunk down some small objects in a random-looking cluster at one end of the table, and then bend down to view the scene from the other end in edge-on perspective. I just did this with some blobs of modeling clay: presto, a sea serpent (figure 5.27). Many animals swim on the water’s surface in groups, from otters to ducks to dolphins. Given perspective, many of them will appear sea serpent–like; therefore, it’s predictable that some witnesses will believe that they have seen sea serpents when in fact they have not. And, again, we need not rely on theory; this effect is well documented within cryptozoology. Consider, for example, Nessie witness Alex Campbell’s misperception of a flock of birds:
Figure 5.27 When viewed from a low angle (as from a boat or beach), any loose cluster of distant objects on the water’s surface appears serpent-like. The effect is demonstrated with blobs of modeling clay on a kitchen table, photographed first from a high angle (top) and then from a low, edge-on angle (bottom). (Photographs by Daniel Loxton)
I discovered that what I took to be the Monster was nothing more than a few cormorants, and what seemed to be the head was a cormorant standing in the water and flapping its wings as they often do. The other cormorants, which were strung out in a line behind the leading bird, looked in the poor light and at first glance just like the body or humps of the Monster, as it has been described by various witnesses.171
It is tempting to suppose that while groups of sea lions or other animals may be mistaken for sea serpents, the illusion cannot last more for than an instant. After all, in the examples just cited, weren’t the witnesses able to pierce the illusion themselves? But mistakes of this kind are not always so ephemeral, according to Ian McTaggart-Cowan. In 1950, while a professor in the Department of Zoology at the University of British Columbia,172 McTaggart-Cowan explained to Maclean’s that he had seen this illusion convince people, persist, and then make press as genuine sightings of the Pacific Northwest sea serpent, Cadborosaurus: “‘On two occasions I saw what was reported to be Caddy,’ says Cowan. ‘In each case Caddy consisted of a bull sea lion with two others following it. I must admit that they looked convincingly like a sea serpent and you could hardly blame an untrained person for not recognizing them as sea lions. Each time the papers came out the next day with reports that Caddy had been seen.’”173
• Seaweed: The idea that anyone could mistake ordinary, inert seaweed for a living monster has been widely mocked. “It will not be necessary to point out that this hypothesis is not deserving of any notice on our part,” huffed Oudemans.174 The argument that seaweed cannot explain all sea serpent reports is true and yet trivial. No one on any side of cryptozoology should be looking for a single explanation. A cryptid is not a single animal to be identified—either this, or else that—but an umbrella under which diverse reports are grouped. It’s just barely possible that genuine sightings of new creatures may be among the evidence collected under those umbrellas; if so, they must huddle alongside many false positives, generated by a very wide range of phenomena.
One of the known sources of erroneous reports of sea serpents is seaweed, of which heroically proportioned, serpentine pieces can be found drifting throughout the world’s oceans. Nor is it only landlubbers who make the elementary-seeming error of mistaking algae for monsters. Groups of experienced sailors have made exactly this mistake (and in broad daylight, at that). In 1849, for example, Captain J. A. Herriman of the Brazilian sighted what was clearly a sea serpent through his telescope. This huge and lively creature swam with its head held high. The mane running down its neck was as clear as its forked tail. Herriman called over an officer and several passengers—all of whom, “after surveying the object for some time, came to the unanimous conclusion that it must be the sea-serpent” that had been widely publicized in recent news. Herriman grabbed a harpoon and ordered a boat into the water in pursuit:
The combat, however, was not attended with the danger which those on board apprehended, for on coming close to the object it was found to be nothing more than an immense piece of sea-weed, evidently detached from a coral reef, and drifting with the current, which sets constantly to the westward in this latitude, and which, together with the swell … gave it the sinuous snakelike motion.175
It’s important to reflect how history would have recorded this account if Herriman had not ordered the pursuit. Without the opportunity to “capture” the seaweed, this would stand as an important, sustained sighting in broad daylight by multiple witnesses—including experienced sailors.
The case of the Brazilian is in no sense unique. In 1858, Captain Smith of the Pekin shared a nearly identical experience (said to have occurred in 1848).176 “With the telescope,” Smith recalled, “we could plainly discern a huge head and neck, covered with a long shaggy-looking kind of mane, which it kept lifting at intervals out of the water. This was seen by all hands, and declared to be the great sea-serpent.” Smith dispatched a boat to hunt the monster. When the sailors hauled the creature on board, they were shocked to discover that it was (of course) just seaweed. Once again, seasoned mariners had mistaken ordinary seaweed for a monster in broad daylight. “So like a living monster did this appear,” Smith warned, “that, had circumstances prevented my sending a boat to it, I should certainly have believed I had seen the great sea-serpent.”177
There is even a dramatic case in which armed forces apparently opened fire on drifting seaweed. According to the rec
ollection of Captain J. H. Taylor, a government official responsible for India’s important Madras Harbor,
About fifteen years ago … an enormous monster, as it appeared, was seen drifting, or advancing itself … into the Harbour. It was more than one hundred feet in length, and moved with an undulating snake-like motion. Its head was crowned with what appeared to be long hair, and the keen-sighted among the affrighted observers declared they could see its eyes and distinguish its features. The military were called out, and a brisk fire poured into it at a distance of about five hundred yards. It was hit several times, and portions of it knocked off. So serious were its evident injuries, that on its rounding the point it became quite still, and boats went off to examine it and complete its destruction. It was found to be a specimen of the sea-weed above mentioned, and its stillness after the grievous injuries inflicted was due to its having left the ground swell and entered the quiet waters of the Bay.178
• Boat wakes and waves: It is extremely telling that sea serpents are so often spotted in calm water. As Erich Pontoppidan put it in 1755, “It is never seen on the surface of the water, but in the greatest calm”179—an observation that many other writers and witnesses have repeated since that time. “Evidently the animals feel comfortable in fine weather and when there is no wind,” concluded Oudemans, citing dozens of cases in which these conditions were described.180 This circumstance is so common that some have even argued that sea serpents may be too fragile to withstand waves or wind.
Of course, calm water also provides perfect conditions for mistaking boat wakes for sea serpents. Many skeptical writers fall prey to the temptation to champion one or another prosaic explanation for monster sightings. Naturalist Henry Lee interpreted virtually all important sea serpent cases as misidentifications of giant squid. I strongly recommend against such silver-bullet explanations—false sea serpent sightings clearly emerge from a wide variety of phenomena—but I am convinced that boat wakes are an underappreciated cause. Given calm water and the right light, the characteristic V-shaped waves left by passing boats or ships can create an extremely compelling illusion. As the two wake lines diverge, each can appear as a series of sinuously animated, dark-colored humps that travel with apparent purpose. Few people realize how far boat wakes can travel. Witnesses may spot wakes miles from their point of origin, with no boats nearby or even anywhere in sight, thus leading to the conclusion that they have seen a sea serpent. Nor is it just boat wakes that can resemble sea serpents; natural waves can also create this effect. Because waves are, well, waves, they interact—some canceling each other, some reinforcing each other (a bit like the famous “double bounce” familiar to kids with trampolines). Even in relatively calm water, natural waves can sometimes stand out, serpent-like, from their surroundings. And, of course, natural waves also interact with boat wakes.
I am persuaded that many popular monster books include photographs or descriptions of boat wakes. Indeed, it would be surprising if they did not. Next time you are near a marina or beach (or reading a monster book), keep your eye out for this illusion. It does not take long to spot waves that could convince a reasonable observer under some circumstances that he or she has just seen a sea serpent. Remember, a given source of false positives need not seem persuasive to most people under most circumstances. Imagine that boat wakes fooled only 1 in 100,000 people, 1 in 1 million, or even 1 in 100 million. Wakes and waves need convince only a handful of people a year in order to become a major part of monster lore!
CADBOROSAURUS: THE GREAT SEA SERPENT OF THE NORTHWEST
The Great Sea Serpent may seem like a mystery from a bygone era—a legend that faded out of fashion alongside top hats and buggy whips. But while it may have enjoyed its greatest surge of scientific interest and public belief during the Age of Steam, the traditional sea serpent is still spotted. Even today, cryptozoologists seek proof of the existence of these “aquatic mega-serpents.”
The best-known modern iteration of the hippocamp-inspired Norwegian serpent is seen not in the North Atlantic off Europe, but in the Pacific Northwest of North America (figure 5.28). This Victorian legend swam into the twentieth century, suitably enough, off the Canadian city of Victoria (at the southernmost tip of Vancouver Island). The provincial capital of British Columbia, Victoria is a bustling tourist destination with a busy cruise-ship port. Today it bills itself as the City of Gardens, but in 1933 it enjoyed worldwide fame for something altogether more mysterious—nothing less than an 80foot sea monster. According to legend, it was an awesome, primeval monster: a huge serpent with fore-flippers, a lobed tail, a mane, and a head something like that of a camel or horse. But how did that legend get started? Why would anyone suppose that a monster out of time would slide undetected through the frigid waters off British Columbia and Washington State? That question hinges on a moment in history.
Figure 5.28 The horse- or camel-like head of the maned Cadborosaurus willsi. (Illustration by Daniel Loxton)
Imagine yourself in 1933. The Great Depression was causing tremendous hardship at home. As Archie Wills, editor of the Victoria Daily Times recalled, a trip to Ottawa
let me see first hand the devastating effect of the Depression across the country. In Ottawa; close to Parliament Hill, men slept in the open and panhandled for money. As we travelled by train we saw thousands of youths riding the rails, crammed into box cars; seeking work when there was none anywhere. I saw … homeless families. I saw youths in Kamloops searching for any kind of food under [a railway] bridge. I was shocked at the conditions.181
The news from overseas was just as grim. Daily newspaper headlines carried ever more bad news about Adolf Hitler. As tensions continued to mount between the new Nazi government and the rest of Europe, war seemed increasingly likely.
“After my return to Victoria during this troublesome period,” Wills continued, “it occurred to me that we should try to inject a bit of humor in the newspaper. Rumors were abroad that a sea serpent was disporting itself in our waters and I felt if the story was handled circumspectly we might have a little fun.”182 Wills was forthright about his motivations for publicizing the serpent (people needed a pick-me-up to balance all the bad news, and, not incidentally, the newspaper needed the money),183 but he was hardly the first newspaper editor to turn to the sea serpent in an hour of need. As the Critic put it in 1885:
There is a difference between a policeman and a sea-serpent. It is a familiar saying that you can never find a policeman when you want him. But whenever the sea-serpent is needed he comes up smiling, at the very moment when the editor, short of a topic, has sent his Sister Anne into the look-out to see if she can descry a “sensation” in the distance. No stronger proof could be asked of the high intelligence and self-sacrificing good-nature of these aquatic ophidians than the precision with which they inform themselves as to the exact date when the Silly Season has set in.184
In a 1950 interview, Wills went so far as to say, “Caddy’s a psychologist.” The too-perfect timing was “significant,” hinted Wills, adding, “We certainly needed distraction then.”185
With the Victoria Daily Times backing the 1933 serpent story, Cadborosaurus, as the paper dubbed the creature (or Caddy, for Cadboro Bay, allegedly a favorite haunt for the creature), became a media darling, making headlines from London to Los Angeles, from the New York Times to Time.186 But how did the traditional Atlantic sea serpent take up residence in the Pacific? Assuming that Wills did not invent it from whole cloth, how did the “rumors” about the serpent get started? And why, then, in 1933—the same year that Nessie was born?
My strong suspicion is that Cadborosaurus may have been inspired by the film King Kong and, even more so, by the global press surrounding the recent monster innovation at Loch Ness in Scotland—which was itself based on King Kong. Let’s look at how events unfolded.
According to Wills, it literally began on a slow news day. “One morning things were dull in the newsroom of The Times,” Wills recalled. “The police court reporter had retu
rned from his beat without record of even a drunk. In his despair he blurted out: ‘A couple of guys say they’ve seen a sea serpent off Cadboro Bay. What about that for a headline?’”187 Wills dispatched reporter Ted Fox to talk first to witness W. H. Langley and then to another man, Fred W. Kemp.188 The next day’s front-page headline proclaimed, “Yachtsmen Tell of Huge Serpent Seen off Victoria.”189 This seized the imagination of the city, inspiring a rash of copycat sightings and launching an enduring legend.
Both Langley and Kemp claimed that they had seen huge sea monsters, allegedly in independent sightings over a year apart. According to Langley, he and his wife were sailing when they heard “a grunt and a snort accompanied by a huge hiss,” and then “saw a huge object about 90 to 100 feet off,” of which “the only part of it that we saw was a huge dome of what was apparently a portion of its back.” It was, he said, visible for only a few seconds before diving. Contemporary critics were quick to point out that it swam like a whale, sounded like a whale, and looked like a whale. Langley disputed this interpretation,190 but whales do abound in the area: humpback whales, gray whales, sperm whales, and others. Given that no other evidence corroborates this momentary, undeniably whale-like anecdote, the Langleys’ sighting seems to be a completely trivial case.
Kemp’s sustained daylight sighting was more interesting. According to Kemp, he and his family were picnicking one afternoon in 1932, on one of a group of tiny islands just off Victoria, when they saw something extraordinary. A huge creature swam up the channel between Chatham and Strongtide islands, leaving an impressive wake. In a signed statement, Kemp recalled,
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