Animals that now seem commonplace, or at least not extraordinary, were considered exotic or even fictitious just a century or so ago. Giraffes, for example, were displayed in carnivals and circuses during the 1800s. They were called cameleopards, reflecting the fanciful combination of the long neck and general head shape of a camel with the spots of a leopard (figure I.2).
Figure I.2 A “camelopard” is advertised in the 1800s.
As science has shed light on more of the natural world, the line between the real and the fantastic has grown sharper. With the Enlightenment came a quest to discern fact from fiction, to poke and prod and tease out what is real from what is not. In modern times, that search has developed into the scientific discipline of zoology, as well as the less scientific field of cryptozoology. Those who search for unknown, hidden, or “out-of-place” creatures, such as Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster, dub themselves cryptozoologists.
In trying to link ancient legends to modern truth claims, the history of the mythical kraken is instructive. Early texts and legends tell of a monstrous, tentacled creature far larger and more fearsome than any known animal. Though some of the stories are no doubt exaggerated, it is generally agreed that a modern version of the kraken does indeed exist and is, by nearly any definition, a monster: it is the giant squid (figure I.3). There’s no doubt that giant squid exist; yet they are poorly studied and rarely seen. The largest one, discovered in New Zealand, was estimated at sixty-five feet in length.
On September 30, 2004, Japanese zoologists Tsunemi Kubodera and Kyoichi Mori became the first to see and film a giant squid at depth. The creature, about twenty-six feet long, was found 2,953 feet deep. The researchers, who were investigating whale-feeding areas in the North Pacific near the Ogasawara Islands, used bait to attract the squid and a remote camera to film it. They watched as the squid attacked the food with its elongate feeding tentacles; after a four-hour struggle, the squid left behind one six-foot tentacle.
Over the centuries, huge, mysterious masses of marine flesh have occasionally washed ashore on beaches around the world. Dubbed “Mobsters” (or “globsters”), these large carcasses are often so badly decomposed that there isn’t enough material (or enough of a variety of materials) to make a definitive identification. To many people, this phenomenon may seem like strong evidence for sea monsters. Recently, a team of biologists led by Sidney Pierce examined the mystery anew. As the authors point out, “Wild claims, especially in the nonscientific literature, are regularly made that the blobs are the remains of sea monsters. For example, the Tasmanian West Coast Monster is still referred to as a monster, although an Australian scientific team.… identified it as a whale. Other relics such as the [1896] St. Augustine (Florida) Sea Monster and the Bermuda Blob are still described by some as the remains of a gigantic octopus, even though A. E. Verrill—who named the St. Augustine specimen sight unseen—recanted his identification in favor of whale remains.… and in spite of microscopic and biochemical analyses showing that they were nothing more than the collagenous matrix of whale blubber” (Pierce et al. 2004, 126). In 2004, Pierce and his colleagues examined all available blobster materials using electron microscopes and applied biochemical, molecular, and DNA analysis. The conclusion: the specimens were unmistakably from various species of great whales. Scientific analysis, it seems, has finally explained one of the world’s great mysteries of the sea. The many mentions of globsters in books on the “unexplained” will have to be revised in the cold light of hard evidence.
Figure I.3 A true monster of the deep, the elusive giant squid can weigh more than a ton and exceed seventy-five feet in length. This specimen, the best preserved in the world, is on display at a museum in St. John’s, Newfoundland. (Photo by Benjamin Radford)
Nevertheless, the ocean is one of the last truly unexplored areas of the world, and it is a natural place to imagine being inhabited by monsters. Yet in modern times, very few sea monsters have been sighted. Today, most reports of mysterious aquatic creatures involve so-called lake monsters. Though most people have heard of a few famous lake monsters, such as those in Loch Ness and Lake Champlain, the number of lakes said to contain mysterious creatures goes far beyond two or three—or even two or three hundred.
As one writer put it in a 1997 article in Fortean Times magazine, “Cryptozoologists struggle to reconcile belief in physical creatures with the ever-growing number of lakes which are supposed to include monsters. In Alien Animals (1980), Janet and Colin Bord list 265 monster-haunted lakes; in the past seventeen years the total has almost certainly crept past 300. It does not seem possible that all these lakes are home to monsters” (Dash 1997). Between 1997 and 2003, the number of lake monsters seems to have tripled; Loren Coleman, in his foreword to this book, suggests that more than a thousand lakes across the globe are said to hold mysterious creatures.
In some ways, the very popularity of lake monsters argues against their existence. Unless one wishes to assert that there are tens of thousands of lake monsters populating the earth’s lakes (somehow all living and dying without leaving hard evidence of their presence), it is reasonable to suggest that perhaps humans have a tendency to see things that aren’t actually there.
There is plenty of evidence for lake monsters, but not all of it is good evidence; quite the contrary, often all that is needed to create a lake monster is a sighting or two of something odd in the water, perhaps coupled with local stories. Mysteries need very little to grow on.
Lake monsters are unique, in that the beast is typically confined by the boundaries of the body of water it inhabits. Unlike a Bigfoot creature, for example, or a sea serpent that could be just about anywhere in a vast and often inaccessible domain, the finite area of a lake should make locating and identifying these creatures relatively easy. cryptozoologists, however, suggest that lakes with outlets to other lakes or to oceans allow a means for migration or escape, thus explaining why repeated searches come up empty.
Although the cases collected for this book are not exhaustive, they provide a good sampling of the different types of sightings, possible explanations for those sightings, hoaxes, evidence claims, and legends surrounding lake monsters. We include the Loch Ness monster—the most famous lake monster in the world—of course, but also “Champ” of Lake Champlain, touted by many experts as having the best evidence for lake monsters anywhere, with many eyewitness sightings as well as a world-famous photograph. We also tackle lesser-known, overlooked, but just as interesting lake creatures, such as those in Silver Lake and Lake George in New York, Quebec’s Lake Memphremagog, Lake Crescent in Newfoundland, and British Columbia’s Lake Okanagan. Although each lake, each creature, and each sighting is unique, many of the same issues arise time and again. Sightings from Scotland to Argentina, Canada to Congo, all boil down to a predictable set of basic issues: local legends, eyewitness descriptions, photographs or other images, artifact depictions, and the like.
Rather than simply cataloging the sightings, we have chosen a different path: in-depth, hands-on investigations. The result, we hope, is thorough enough and scholarly enough for avid lake monster researchers and entertaining enough for mystery lovers and armchair cryptozoologists alike. Readers will also get a taste of what it’s like to work alongside us as we plunge into the depths of these mysteries firsthand—with the exception of Loch Ness. Although the Loch Ness monster is the world’s most famous, in some ways, that makes it less interesting from an investigative standpoint. The loch has been continually and meticulously searched, and although we hope to investigate it ourselves someday, there was little new that we could bring to the mystery for now. For a careful and critical examination, see Ronald Binns’s book The Loch Ness Mystery Solved.
Our book is unique in several respects. Many books on this topic are not so much written as compiled, consisting essentially of collections of entertaining stories and legends written to entice and amuse. Little if any attempt is made to actually investigate the sightings or even treat the subject as a myster
y to be solved. This can be frustrating for readers and researchers who want to go beyond the stories and get to the truth. Stories and sightings are fine, but many people want to know what science says about these mysteries. With this book, we bring some much-needed scientific rigor and scholarship to a field better known for its wild, unsubstantiated claims than its careful examination of the facts.
Although library and archival research is important (and we’ve both spent plenty of time in the book stacks), it is also important, when possible, to go to the lake, interview eyewitnesses, and conduct original fieldwork. It’s easy and wrongheaded to dismiss strange sightings out of hand as silly—and just as wrong to accept them as true—without investigating the facts. At times, scientists and investigators are accused of ignoring evidence, trying to disprove claims, and assuming that eyewitnesses are lying. Instead of presuming the answer—that a given creature does or doesn’t exist—and trying to find proof to support that position, we believe in following the evidence to whatever conclusion it suggests.
If the goal of researching a phenomenon is to understand it, then no damage is done by explaining it, or at least offering a plausible explanation. Every mysterious sighting explained, every hoax uncovered, every assertion verified or debunked is one step closer to knowing the truth of what lurks in the lakes. Skeptics and believers alike should strive to distinguish what is known from what is supposed, what is true from what is mistaken. It is only though this process—essentially a scientific process—that real understanding can emerge from the lakes’ muddy waters.
Often, mysteries can be solved simply by consulting original sources instead of other writers’ works, which are sometimes incomplete or erroneous (for more on this, see appendix 1). In one case, important details of a famous eyewitness’s experience had been omitted from all previous accounts and are published here for the first time. In the twenty-five years since the sighting, no one had bothered to get the full story from the witness. Thus, much of the information in this book is based on original research. Our investigations took us to small bars and large boats, out-of-the-way motels and lakeside vigils. We spoke to dozens of people, from housewives to professional monster hunters, biologists to fishing guides, photographic experts to tavern owners. Each person contributed valuable opinions and evidence, all pieces of the mystery mosaic.
If some experts are to be believed, we risked our very lives by pursuing the mysteries examined in this book. Ogopogo, Lake Okanagan’s monster, is said to have attacked and drowned skeptics. And consider W. Haden Blackman’s (1998, 57) warning about researching the Lake Champlain creature: “With its impossible size, glowing green eyes, and regal bearing, Champ is a mercurial monster of epic proportions. Some witnesses suffer psychological aftershocks following their encounter.… It could easily smash through a bothersome researcher’s boat to drag the pest into the lake’s icy depths.”
We knew that such investigations might be dangerous, but we had faced peril before, such as braving the famously cursed “Devil’s Hole” cave near Niagara Falls, New York (Nickell 2001). As we approached these investigations, there was little talk of the danger, perhaps understandable among men uncomfortable about showing their inner fear. It wasn’t until later that we checked our insurance policies to see if they covered treatment for the “psychological aftershocks” we might endure if we were fortunate enough to come face-to-face with one of these creatures.
We all love a good monster story, and there are some real whoppers in here—referring to both the creatures in the lakes and the stories told about them. But many of us also want a peek behind the curtain, an explanation of what’s really there or what might be there. So come along with us as we explore lake monster mysteries.
REFERENCES
Binns, Ronald. 1984. The Loch Ness mystery solved. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
Blackman, W. Haden. 1998. The field guide to North American monsters. New York: Random House.
Coleman, Loren, and Patrick Huyghe. 2003. The field guide to lake monsters, sea serpents, and other mystery denizens of the deep. New York: J. P. Tarcher.
Dash, Mike. 1997. Lake monsters: Status report. Fortean Times 102 (September): 31
Nickell, Joe. 2001. Real-life X-files: Investigating the paranormal. Buffalo, N.Y: Prometheus Books.
Pierce, S., S. Massey, N. Curtis, G. Smith, C. Olavarria, and T. Maugel. 2004. Microscopic, biochemical, and molecular characteristics of the Chilean blob and a comparison with the remains of other sea monsters: Nothing but whales. Biological Bulletin 206 (June): 125–33.
1
LOCH NESS
Of all the sea serpent-like creatures that are reputed to inhabit some of the world’s large lakes, none is more famous than “Nessie,” the purported Loch Ness monster (figure 1.1). Supported by sightings, photographs, and other evidence, Nessie continues to spark the popular imagination.
SIGHTINGS
Reports of the existence of a creature in the great Scottish lake date as far back as the sixth century, when St. Columba supposedly saved a man’s life by commanding the attacking monster to depart. (Such pious legends of saints—some of whom could reportedly fly and others who could allegedly live without eating—are given little credence today [Nickell 1993, 231–63].) The number of subsequent encounters is disputed until the twentieth century, when the modern wave of sightings began.
On May 2, 1933, the Inverness Courier carried an account by an anonymous correspondent (actually, one Alexander Campbell) titled “Strange Spectacle in Loch Ness,” telling how an unnamed couple had seen the waters of the loch disturbed by “no ordinary denizen of the depths,” at least “judging by the state of the water in the affected area.” It later turned out that Campbell’s account was greatly exaggerated: only one of the two individuals had seen anything, and that person had described it as seeming to be caused “by two ducks fighting” (Binns 1984, 12).
The week after Campbell’s report, the Courier published a response by Captain John Macdonald, who responded: “In the first place, it is news to me to learn, as your correspondent states, that ‘or generations the Loch has been credited with being the home of a fearsome monster.’ I have sailed on the Loch Ness for fifty years, and during that time I have made no fewer than 20,000 trips up and down Loch Ness. During that half-century of almost daily intercourse with Loch Ness I have never seen such a ‘monster’ as described by your correspondent.” Captain Macdonald had seen “what at first might be described as a ‘tremendous upheaval in the Loch,’” but he ascribed this “very ordinary occurrence” to “sporting salmon” (quoted in Binns 1984, 16).
Figure 1.1 Scotland’s Loch Ness is home to the world’s most famous legendary lake creature. (Map by Joe Nickell)
Nevertheless, more sightings soon followed, with the monster being variously described as 6 to 125 feet long, with shapes ranging from that of a great eel to a creature with a hump or humps (up to nine), and in colors including silver, gray, blue-black, black, and brown (figure 1.2). It was also endowed—or not—with such features as fins, flippers, mane, tusks, or horns (Binns 1984; Gould 1934).
Figure 1.2 Composite drawing from the wildly diverse descriptions of the Loch Ness monster (a.k.a. “Nessie”), or herewith dubbed Nessiteras chameleonopteryx. (Illustration by Joe Nickell)
In his definitive, skeptical book on the subject, The Loch Ness Mystery Solved, Ronald Binns (1984) cataloged many of the live creatures and inanimate objects that have been mistaken for Nessie, including bobbing logs, boat wakes, schools of fish, long-necked birds, swimming deer, and many other animals, notably the European otter (Lutra lutra). With its long neck and plesiosaurlike profile, the otter is quite likely to be perceived as a monster, especially when an adult with two or more young are swimming in a line, creating the semblance of a multihumped creature.
In August 1933, eight weeks after the sighting reported by Campbell, a Mr. Spicer saw a creature like “a pre-historic animal” cross the road about fifty yards in front of his automobile.
It was carrying a small animal in its jaws, and its long neck undulated as it walked. Spicer estimated it as six to eight feet long and speculated that it might be both a “land and water animal.” Indeed, as one of Spicer’s contemporaries told the Inverness Courier, the creature was almost certainly a large otter, possibly carrying one of its young (Binns 1984, 19–20).
Monster enthusiast Rupert T. Gould, author of The Loch Ness Monster (1934), loved to cite the most unlikely theories about Nessie. The more ridiculous these were, the more he seemed to like discussing them (making, as it were, a straw-monster argument). On Gould’s list were mass hallucination, a hollow log “inhabited by a colony of aquatic creatures,” “the reflection on the water of some object on one of the surrounding hills,” the action of an underwater geyser, various saltwater creatures (e.g., shark, sunfish, ray, or squid) that somehow found their way into the loch (but could not survive there), and many other imaginative possibilities—including a dead elephant. One of Gould’s methods of dismissing even likely explanations for some of the sightings was by invoking other sightings that could not be so explained—as if there could be only a single explanation for Nessie (e.g., Gould 1934, 117).
In 2001, Italian geologist Luigi Piccardi suggested that the loch leviathan could be an illusion created by seismic activity, since the Great Glen Fault runs along Loch Ness. Nessie hunter Adrian Shine responded that Piccardi’s hypothesis could account for only some of the monster reports, and he insisted that boat wakes were the most persistent explanation for lake monster sightings. He also noted that water on the surface could actually flow against the wind, creating the illusion that an inanimate object, such as a log, was an animate one swimming into the wind (Barr 2001).
Lake Monster Mysteries Page 2