However far-fetched some of the hoax dismissals are, I believe that they are fundamentally correct. In our discussions with Mansi, and after an exhaustive and detailed review of both her account and her photograph, I have come to the conclusion that she is probably an honest and sincere eyewitness reporting essentially what she saw.
Part of the reason I believe Mansi’s story is that, like many real eyewitness accounts, it is flawed and partially contradictory; if Mansi had faked the whole encounter, her story would have been tailored to be more consistent with other Champ sightings. Also, my assumption as an investigator is that, in general, eyewitnesses are truthful. Though cryptozoology is littered with hoaxes and faked evidence, I see no need to label someone a liar or a hoaxer absent strong evidence of deception. Assuming that both the account and the photo are truthful (though error-prone) records of something in the water, what can we conclude about it?
The Frieden Analysis
In 1981, B. Roy Frieden examined the photograph at the behest of Champ researcher Joe Zarzynski. Frieden’s findings were outlined in his “Interim Report” and published in Zarzynski’s 1984 book Champ: Beyond the Legend.
Frieden believed the picture to be a valid print and found no evidence of photographic tampering. However, he did find a “suspicious detail” in the picture: “When I showed it to a woman who formerly lived at Lake Champlain, she immediately noticed a brownish streak going horizontally from left to right across the picture right up to the object in question. She right out said that it looked to her like a sandbar.” Frieden believed the streak to be “a real detail in the picture” and suggested that if it was a sandbar, “then there is a distinct possibility that the object was put there by someone.… the sandbar problem really has to be investigated.” Frieden also suggested that the photograph may not have been taken where Mansi said it was: “She [the former resident] was suspicious that the lake was so narrow at that point because Lake Champlain is colossal in width, and that this would have had to take place at what’s called ‘The Narrows’ by the natives who live around there for it to be a true photograph of the area. I say it’s suspicious because if it is an uncharacteristically narrow portion of the lake, perhaps the picture wasn’t taken at Lake Champlain but rather at some other body of water.” The general area of the sighting is relatively shallow, and to date, the sandbar explanation remains a possibility. No evidence has surfaced that the photo was not taken at Champlain.
The LeBlond Analysis
Another analysis was conducted by Paul H. LeBlond of the Department of Oceanography at the University of British Columbia. LeBlond (1982) attempted to use the general appearance of the waters surface to estimate the length of the waves and then use that as a scale by which to judge the object in the photograph. After listing the many possible sources of error, LeBlond sums up: “The inescapable conclusion [despite all the unknowns] is that the object seen in the Mansi photograph is of considerable size.” He estimated its length to be between sixteen and fifty-six feet.
LeBlond used a complex formula involving wind speed, fetch, wave period, and wave height—all of which were estimated. LeBlond did his best with the scant evidence he had to work with, but no matter how good the math or the model is, with so many unknown variables, any result will be little better than a wild guess. LeBlond’s analysis, by his own admission, was imprecise: “Sources of error may appear at many stages of the estimation method, and this must be kept in mind when interpreting the results.” Most writers who cite the LeBlond analysis fail to mention this important caveat and portray his results as conclusive and scientifically sound. One writer goes so far as to say that LeBlond’s heavily qualified conclusions “destroyed the learned academic’s [i.e., Frieden’s] hypothesis that the animal could have been a fake” (Kirk 1998, 135). (Though again, I agree with Kirk that it isn’t faked.)
Several years later, LeBlond applied a similar analysis to the famous surgeon’s photo of the Loch Ness monster (see chapter 1). He concluded that the creature’s neck extended four feet above the waterline and that “the object thought to be Nessie is therefore of a dimension which warrants all the interest it has received” (LeBlond and Collins 1987). Yet that image has since been shown to be a hoax—the pranksters using a neck only about a foot high, not four feet, as LeBlond had calculated. It now seems clear that the methods LeBlond used are not valid for estimating the size of unknown objects in water and should be abandoned.
There is one area where LeBlond’s discussion is clearly wrong. He mentions the efforts to locate the Mansi site and provides a map with a shaded area showing “stretches of shoreline from which the Mansi photograph may have been taken.” The areas highlighted are on the western shores of Hog Island and below Maquam Bay across from Hero Island. Yet only someone who has never been to the area could suggest these sites as possible candidates; the far shores are much too far away to be depicted in the Mansi photograph.
Some cryptozoologists, it should be noted, were cautious about the results of the photographic analysis. J. Richard Greenwell, of the International Society of Cryptozoology, discussed the various analyses and their conclusions that “there are ‘definitely no cuts, no superimposition,’ but, he warn[ed], that ‘does not mean it is a monster or a living object. It does mean an object was there and was photographed’” (quoted in Zarzynski 1988a, 132).
The Radford Analysis
Armed with analyses, comments, and critiques of the Mansi photo, I set out to conduct my own investigation. All the previous analyses had focused on just the photograph or just the sighting account. In the quarter century since the photo was first published, there had been no in-depth effort to reconcile the two and get a complete picture of the event. This seemed to be a glaring oversight for such a famous and important photo. I spent countless hours looking at the photo, trying to glean any hint or angle that might tease out its secrets. Rather than using the most often reprinted (and cropped) version of the photograph, I traveled to Connecticut to study the rarely seen original print. Mansi’s lawyer, Alan Neigher, a warm and accommodating man, kindly gave me free access to stare at the thing as long as I pleased.
Figure 2.7 The Lake Champlain monster, traced from an enlargement of Sandra Mansi’s 1977 photograph. (Illustration by Benjamin Radford)
There are two fundamental questions about the object in the Mansi photo: Is it alive? and How big is it? There are a number of puzzling elements in the story that make little sense if the object is actually a large, living animal but need not be answered if the object is nonliving.
Morphology. In my own analysis of the Mansi photograph, I discovered something odd about the object. It isn’t apparent at first glance, but the “head” and “hump” aren’t clearly connected. The neck and hump of the creature (if that’s what it is) are at a very unnatural angle and position relative to each other. It’s difficult to picture how the gently sloping hump on the right could be anatomically connected to the neck, which emerges from the water at about an eighty-five-degree angle. The hump slopes down toward the base of the neck just a few feet away. In his book on Champ, Zarzynski admits that the head and hump are not obviously connected. He does, however, show an “electronic heavy enhancement of the Mansi photograph demonstrating ‘that the monster’s back and head are connected.’” I remain unconvinced; the “heavy enhancement” seems to have done little but emphasize the dark patches—which would, of course, include the head’s shadow. The neck portion doesn’t align with the hump and in fact clearly emerges from the water away from the hump and supposed body (figure 2.7). The reason that the head and hump seem to be connected is the presence of a dark patch in the water between the two. I suggest that this is in fact a shadow from the neck and head. In the photograph, that area is not nearly as dark as the head and hump and has all the characteristics of a shadow. Furthermore, Mansi’s own account corroborates the shadow hypothesis. She claims that the photo was taken at around noon. If this is true, then at the lake’s latitude, the sunlight shou
ld be coming from the south, casting a shadow downward and north (to the right in the photo)—exactly where the neck and hump meet.
Figure 2.8 Some researchers suggest that Champ may be a plesiosaur, a marine reptile that died out over fifty million years ago. (Illustration by Benjamin Radford)
Figure 2.9 Driftwood and tree stumps can often take on strange and fantastic forms, including those of lake monsters. This six-foot piece of drifnvood was found on Lake Champlain in the 1980s. (Photo by Bruce Rowland, courtesy of the Plattsburgh Press-Republican)
There doesn’t seem to be enough space between the base of the neck and the hump to plausibly account for the rest of the submerged body. It’s hard to conceive of a large aquatic animal whose morphology would allow for such a tortuous positioning. One of the most popular candidates for Champ is a prehistoric creature called the plesiosaur (figure 2.8), but the neck length and body shape are hard to reconcile with the object in the photograph.
The object is supposedly a head and neck, yet (unlike all other known animals) there are no discernible organs—no mouth, no eyes, no nose, no ears, no sensory organs at all. It is simply a curved, ambiguous shape in the water, not identifiable as a head and neck other than by inference. It does seem to have a vaguely head-shaped tip, but a root sticking up from a partially submerged tree stump could look identical. Roots and branches can take many gnarled, twisted, and fantastic forms, and the shape in the photo wouldn’t be unusual. In fact, through the years, many people have found natural roots that resemble the heads and bodies of lake monsters. One striking photo of a serpentine (but wooden) head and neck can be found on page 99 of Zarzynski’s Champ: Beyond the Legend. Another—found near Lake Champlain—is reproduced here from an undated photo in the Plattsburgh Press-Republican (figure 2.9).
Behavior and Movement. Unlike other animals, the lake “creature” was oblivious to noise and movement. Despite two children playing in the water less than 150 feet away and a grown man shouting at it, the “creature” didn’t turn its head toward the source of the sound and was apparently unaware of the four humans directly behind it. As Mansi reported, “It did not even look our way—and the kids were loud, they were having a great time.… It didn’t know I was there. I’m sure it didn’t.” This detail strongly suggests that the object Mansi saw was nonliving. Sound travels more than four times faster in water than in air, and some whales can hear sounds at distances of twenty miles or more. A living creature of the presumed size and complexity of Champ should certainly be able to hear and sense two young children splashing and playing nearby. Mansi attributes Champ’s distinctly unusual behavior to deafness: “I really don’t think it could hear because wouldn’t you think that if it heard the children [it would turn its head to face us]?” A simpler explanation is that the object couldn’t hear because it was nonliving.
Mansi said that the creature, after surfacing six to eight feet out of the water, turned its head, apparently looking over the countryside. But what would an aquatic animal be doing scanning the shoreline and surrounding area? Animals that live in the water are unlikely to have good terrestrial vision for the distances described. Sea turtles, for example, have excellent eyesight underwater but are nearsighted on land. The idea that Champ would stick its head up to “have a long look around” (except toward the loud noises behind it) seems extremely unlikely.
The creature held its head out of the water and was essentially stationary for “at least five to seven minutes.” Even given the fact that eyewitnesses tend to overestimate the duration of sightings, this is a remarkably long time for any large, living creature to remain essentially motionless. Large animals in the wild rarely stay immobile for long periods unless they are sleeping or eating. The majority of Champ sightings last less than a minute—often only a few seconds. If the Champ creatures (and there would have to be dozens to constitute a breeding population) habitually stick their necks six feet or more out of the water for five minutes or longer (whether people are nearby or not), it’s amazing that they aren’t sighted routinely.
The object’s movements were not characteristic of an animal. From Mansi’s description, the head and neck were always more or less fixed in the same position. Although the head was said to move to some degree, it did not, for example, slide back or around as a snake’s head might. The object moved more like a stiff, stationary object turning slightly on its axis than like a flexible, pliable neck or appendage. Many reports—including Mansi’s—specifically point out that Champ “sank—it did not dive—under the water” (e.g., Clark and Pear 1995, 433). This is an interesting characteristic, and exactly the behavior one would expect from a protruding root or branch of a partially submerged tree being roiled by waves: a necklike object sinking back into the water instead of diving forward.
Mouth. There is only one specific detail in Mansi’s account that argues for a living creature and against a root or a tree: the presence of a mouth. Mansi said, “I could see that it was living. I could not see detail … I remember the mouth was open when it came up and water came out.” This feature is indeed hard to reconcile with a stump or a log. But later during our interview, Mansi contradicted herself: “When it came up, its mouth was closed, but you could see water [coming from the head].” This suggests that she only inferred the presence of a mouth. Since Mansi was interpreting the top of the “neck” as a head, this is a perfectly reasonable and perceptually sound assumption. Given that she thought she was seeing a creature’s head, her mind supplied the rest. The process by which the human mind fills in perceptual details that aren’t actually present is well documented (see, e.g., Williams, Loftus, and Deffenbacher 1992). If you look at the downward curve of the nose and head, it’s easy to see how water draining off the lowest point could be interpreted as coming from a hidden mouth.
Figure 2.10 In field experiments on Lake Champlain, investigator Benjamin Radford holds a 3-foot marker at 150 feet. Using this image, the “monster” in the Mansi photo can be measured. (Photo by Joe Nickell)
Size. The object’s actions seem to be distinctly nonliving, but if it really is the monstrous size suggested, a lake creature remains a possibility. Many analyses had been conducted to determine the object’s size (Mansi said fifteen to twenty feet; LeBlond suggested sixteen to fifty-six). If valid, these estimates would suggest a lake monster, but the measurements were indirect and fraught with error. The lack of reference objects and known distances makes the task formidable. However, the analysis can be approached from a different angle: Although we don’t know the absolute size of—or distance to—the object, we do know what Sandra Mansi reported as the size and distance. With those variables fixed, it is a fairly straightforward process to determine whether the object is the size she (and others) claim.
To help judge the validity of the Mansi photo, we carried out some experiments during our expedition to Lake Champlain. Following an unfruitful attempt to locate the original site, we chose a spot on the lake in the same general area. Joe Nickell stood approximately 8 feet above the waterline; this height is similar to that reported by Sandra Mansi (kneeling down atop a 6-foot ledge). I entered the lake holding a 3-foot black-and-white scale marker, measured off in 1-foot lengths. Photographs (using the same type of camera Mansi used in 1977—a Kodak Instamatic, fixed-focus 110) were taken at 50-foot intervals, ending up 150 feet from shore (figure 2.10). The distances were measured directly, calibrated using a synthetic string to avoid any stretching in the water. Joe also took duplicate photos with his own 35 mm camera (those reproduced here). For comparison, we verified that both cameras were of the same focal length.
With the camera at the height Mansi claimed (about 8 to 9 feet) and the marker in the water at the distance she claimed (150 feet), this should allow us to measure the size of an object in that scale. Any object of a claimed size at a certain distance (at a given focal length) will take up a measurable space in the print. We measured the size of the I-foot scale at 150 feet on our photograph, marked that, and transferred th
e measurement to the Mansi image scaled to the same size. For greatest accuracy, I carefully measured the Champ object in comparison to the original photo in its entirety, not the magnified and cropped commercial version that appears in books and magazines (and is reproduced here).
Figure 2.11 A six-foot “Champ” neck rises out of Lake Champlain. (Photo by Joe Nickell)
Unfortunately for those claiming that the Mansi object is huge, the numbers don’t add up. All the previous estimates of the object’s size were dramatically overstated. The “neck” sticking out of the water is nowhere near the previous estimates of 6 to 8 feet or more. Instead, the object is just over 3 feet out of the water, and both segments together are about 7 feet across. (A less accurate comparison using the least-cropped publicly available version of the photo, in the April 1998 issue of Discover magazine, produces a neck height of about 4 feet.) To double-check our results, we also worked backward, using a photograph of a mock Champ neck and head held 6 feet above the water at 150 feet (figure 2.11). If Mansi’s estimates are correct, the neck height in the two photos should look very similar. Using that scale for measurement, we verified that our estimate was indeed accurate.
Note that our analysis is based on Sandra Mansi’s own estimates and testimony. Because the object in the photo is inconsistent with the claimed height, those who wish to maintain that the object is 6 feet or taller (and 15 feet or longer) will have to decide which part of Mansi’s story is false (or inaccurate). There is no way to be sure exactly how large the object is, but estimates of the distance and the size can’t both be correct; either one—or both—must be wrong. Since the publication of our results, I have been contacted by two other researchers who independently arrived at similar estimates regarding the object’s size.
Lake Monster Mysteries Page 6