Lake Monster Mysteries

by Benjamin Radford

  Figure 6.2 “George” the monster poses with Joe Nickel1 in Hague-on-Lake George, New York. (Photo by Benjamin Radford)

  Figure 6.3 Eyebolt embedded in a rock on the old Harry Watrous property, reportedly used to secure the pulley line that operated his bogus monster. (Photo by Joe Nickell)

  During my research, I discovered some discrepancies between the supposedly original hippogriff and Watrous’s description of it. Whereas he stated, “The log of which I fashioned the head was about ten feet long” (Watrous 1934), the displayed creature is less than half that length, measuring just fifty-two inches. As further investigation revealed, however, the monster had been fashioned in two sections, fitted together with “a half lap join” and secured by a bolt, according to Phil Kellogg (2004), who made the replica; only the front end of the figure is exhibited.

  Another discrepancy is the lack of ears. Watrous (1934) provided his monster with “a couple of ears, like the ears of an ass,” which he painted blue, but the existing creature has no ears. A slot cut in the top of the head, however, is a likely attachment site for such ears. I suspect that they were fashioned out of sheet metal, like the back fin.

  The bottom edge of the fin bears flanges, made by snipping the metal and bending the sections at alternating right angles, then nailing them down. Old flange imprints and nail holes in the wood show that, at some time in its history, the fin was reworked or replaced. In much the same way that art experts differentiate an original painting from a copy by evidence of alterations made during creation, changes in the fin placement suggest that the artifact is the original, with a history of use and abuse. Other details, including the missing ears and evidence of repainting, flaking paint, damage, and repair, are all consistent with the object’s purported age and function. I also attempted to date the glass insulators used for the monster’s eyes. I had intern Robert Lewis contact a person knowledgeable about such things, and he said that the pair appeared to be telephone or toll insulators of about the period in question, although he was unable to personally examine them and take definitive caliper measurements (Katonak 2004).

  There is one additional detail: the presence of a U.S. Customs label affixed to the monster’s underbelly (figure 6.4.) Therein lies a tale: Walter Grishkot (2004) told me that he first came across the object in about 1962 in the garage of an elderly caretaker named Louis Spelman in Silver Bay. Reportedly, Spelman had discovered the relic decades earlier during the sale of some property in town (Henry n.d.). Grishkot borrowed the monster from Spelman and had a black-and-white photo made of it emerging from water (see figure 6.1). Following some newspaper publicity, a woman in the Virgin Islands purchased the monster from Spelman for just twenty-five dollars (Bolton n.d.; It’s monstrous 1962). In 1966, Grishkot and his wife Joann were on a Caribbean cruise and looked up the woman who had bought the monster. They brought it back so that it could be displayed locally. Walt recalls that it was too long to fit in their rental car, so he had to remove the bolt and divide the object into its two segments. The couple had some difficulty getting the artifact through customs, as the officials were unsure how to estimate the duty, there being no category for “monster” (Grishkot 2004; Henry n.d.; Bolton n.d.).

  Whatever the true status of the “original” hippogriff—and I am cautiously prepared to accept it as authentic—Harry Watrous’s prank takes its place among many other monster hoaxes. Some of the ones I discovered during my research, including two from the 1930s, specifically echo the 1904 hippogriff hoax. In 1934, for example, Canadian bathers saw a monster in Lake Ontario near Kingston. They described “Kingstie” as “a strange creature with the head of a dragon and eyes of fire.” Finally, in 1979, three local men confessed that they had been responsible for the incident. “As a prank,” reports one writer, “they had fabricated a semblance of the creature using a barrel filled with empty bottles for buoyancy and fitting it with a dragon-like head, rope and anchor to keep it in one place, and twine attached to the rope that ran underwater to the shore of Cartwright Bay to permit them to bob its barrel body and head up and down” (Colombo 1999,117).

  Figure 6.4 Detail of the “creature” showing elements related to its authentication: U.S. Customs sticker and old fin-attachment markings. (Photo by Joe Nickell)

  Still another 1930s mystery was solved with the discovery—on a beach at Ludington, Michigan—of the remains of a wooden monster thirty feet long. Reports one writer, “Made in numerous sections and wired together, it gave the appearance of swimming when pulled through the water. It was effective enough to scare many local swimmers and spawned monster stories for years to come” (Stonehouse 1997, 163).

  SIGHTINGS

  Watrous’s hoax aside, there have been intermittent reports of a real monster in Lake George. Interestingly, the single case of a “real” sighting reported by Lord (1999, 188–89) also involved a Mrs. Bates—possibly the same one in the party hoaxed by Watrous. If so, that seems quite a coincidence—or two variants of the same story. However, when I stayed at Silver Bay, I spent some time looking for, and inquiring about, monster sightings. They seem to be a thing of the past.

  Mark Rutkowski, senior program director of the Silver Bay Association, told me that in his fifteen years in the area, he had no knowledge of any monster reports. A maintenance man and the nature center operator likewise had no monster stories to report, although one staffer told me that she had recently seen “either an otter or a mink” with a fish in its mouth, and others have definitely seen mink in the area (Nickell 2003). Such animals could be mistaken for a lake creature under the right conditions.

  CONCLUSION

  It appears that the only true specimen of “George” is the one that is safely preserved behind glass—verily a creature to behold.

  REFERENCES

  Bolton, Richard E. N.d. George the monster. Information sheet by supervisor, township of Hague, Warren County, N.Y.

  Colombo, John Robert. 1999. Mysteries of Ontario. Toronto: Hounslow Press.

  Grishkot, Walter. 2004. Telephone interview by Joe Nickell, June 18.

  Henry, Ginger. N.d. The Lake George monster story. Hague, N.Y.: Hague-on-Lake George Chamber of Commerce.

  It’s monstrous, “George”: Public invited to bid farewell to the monster of Lake George. 1962. Ticonderoga (N. Y.) Sentinel, November 15. Cited in Zarzynski 1980.

  Katonak, Tom. 2004. Personal correspondence with Robert Lewis, June 29.

  Kellogg, Phil. 2004. Telephone interview by Joe Nickell, June 18.

  Lord, Thomas Reeves. 1999. Still more stories of Lake George: Fact and fancy. Pemberton, N.J.: Pineland Press, 187–89.

  Nickell, Joe. 2003. Interview notes, Silver Bay, N.Y., August 27.

  Stonehouse, Frederick. 1997. Haunted lakes: Great Lakes ghost stories, superstitions and sea serpents. Duluth, Minn.: Lake Superior Port Cities Inc.

  Watrous, Harry W. 1934. Is there a sea serpent in Lake George? Flyer reprinted from official program, Lake George Gold Cup Regatta, August 3–5; itself reprinted from New York Evening Sun. Copy obtained from Hague Historical Museum.

  Zarzynski, Joseph W. 1980. The Lake George monster hoax of 1904. Pursuit (summer): 99–100.

  7

  LAKE OKANAGAN

  Lake Okanagan in British Columbia is said to be home to “Ogopogo,” purportedly “one of the most thoroughly documented unidentified lake creatures,” second only to Scotland’s “Nessie,” and “possibly the most famous North American monster aside from Bigfoot” (Blackman 1998, 69). Although Ogopogo has been dubbed Canada’s Loch Ness monster, cryptozoologist John Kirk (1998, 4) counters that, “since the appearances of the Canadian beast predated those of its Scottish cousin, it ought to be said that Nessie is Scotland’s Ogopogo.” But does such a monster exist?

  THE OGOPOGO EXPEDITION

  Joe Nickell

  Ben Radford and I have long been fascinated by the alleged Lake Okanagan denizen, and we resolved to look into the mystery. As luck would have it, National Geographic Television wa
s interested as well.

  BACKGROUND

  Okanagan is the largest of a group of five interconnected lakes in the Okanagan Valley of south-central British Columbia. Named for the local forest-dwelling Native Americans, the narrow freshwater lake stretches for some seventy-nine miles from its southern extremity at Penticton to its northern tip near Vernon (figure 7.1). It is thus more than three times the length of Loch Ness and, at a maximum depth of 762 feet, slightly deeper as well. (Greater depths have been claimed; according to Gaal [2001, 14], the deepest point of Lake Okanagan is “nearly 1,000 feet.”) Formed from an ancient valley, it was filled by waters from glacial melting about ten thousand years ago (Roed 2005).

  Figure 7.1 Map of Lake Okanagan showing selected sites. (Map by Joe Nickell)

  Okanagan is one of many Canadian lakes reputed to contain lake monsters. At least thirty-nine lakes in British Columbia alone have such “aquatic anomalies,” according to Kirk; however, he singles out Okanagan as “the lake of mystery” (Kirk 1998, 28, 11). The scenic lake rarely freezes over—this has happened only about four times in the twentieth century (Okanagan 2005a)—and it is famous for its sandy beaches, campsites, and resorts. Fishing charters promise “big fish,” which include rainbow trout and kokanee (Okanagan 2005b). Lake Okanagan is within the home range of such aquatic mammals as beavers, muskrats, and otters (Whitaker 1996), as well as numerous types of waterfowl, including ducks and geese (Bull and Ferrand 1994). Some of these creatures might provide food for a giant lake monster, if it indeed exists.

  According to folklore attributed to the native culture, the monster was a demonic entity called N’ha-a-itk (Ben discusses this in greater detail in the second part of this chapter), and its home was Rattlesnake Island or a cave beneath it or adjacent to Squally Point (Gaal 2001, 113, 122–23; 1998, 47). With the arrival of white settlers, interest in the Okanagan monster continued, though it was not always taken seriously. The palindromic name Ogopogo (it reads the same forward and backward) came from a 1924 music-hall song titled “The Ogopogo: The Funny Fox-Trot,” about a banjo-playing water-being from Hindustan (Shuker 1995, 100). It was performed at a luncheon in Vernon, B.C., on August 23, 1926. And according to an account I discovered at the library in Kelowna, “the guests left the Kalamalka Hotel to spread the fame of Ogopogo far and wide” (Brimblecombe 1930). (Others have misreported the facts about the song. For example, Blackman [1998, 71–72] says that W. H. Brimblecombe wrote the song, and Gaal [2001, 88] says that it was sung at Vernon in 1924.)

  ON-SITE INVESTIGATIONS

  National Geographic Television (NGTV) invited Ben and me on an expedition to Lake Okanagan—a week’s quest to find the fabled creature or to explain the monster phenomenon. We spent more than four days at the lake investigating the mystery by interviewing eyewitnesses; studying photographic evidence; conducting historical and other research (although much of this was done in advance); performing an experiment involving one of the recorded sightings; and traversing the lake and its shores by foot, auto, sonar-equipped boat (with professional divers on board), and seaplane.

  Accompanying us for much of this grueling work was Canadian cryptozoologist John Kirk. We were also assisted by Arlene Gaal, whose book In Search of Ogopogo was never far from our fingertips. In her home in Kelowna, she allowed us to study many of the photographs, films, and videos that purport to depict Ogopogo. Despite our skepticism, our relationship with these two monster hunters was respectful and cordial; NGTV producer Noel Dockstader seemed to wish for more sparks between us, which would make for better television.

  The second full day of our expedition—Saturday, February 5, 2005—was the most exhausting. After an early breakfast, we boarded a houseboat at the Grand Okanagan Lakefront Resort, where we roomed. We were loaded for monster hunting: besides Ben, John, and me, we had a four-person TV crew, the boat pilot and his relief, two men in charge of sonar, and a diving crew of three—plus an impressive amount of gear and equipment, including a motorboat that we towed behind us.

  We covered much of the southern half of the lake, giving special attention to Rattlesnake Island (a.k.a. Monster Island) and its environs. Two divers went down to search for the caves that are legendarily home to Ogopogo (figure 7.2), while Ben, John, and I took the motorboat to the island and scrambled onto the rocks. These searches yielded only underwater fissures too small for a monster and an island devoid of bones or other traces of Ogopogo’s supposed prey.

  Figure 7.2 Divers with the National Geographic Television expedition in search of caves beneath Rattlesnake Island. (Photo by Joe Nickell)

  Darryl Bondura searched the depths with side-scanning sonar, which also turned up nothing of significance (figure 7.3). He says that he has scanned several square miles of Okanagan’s bottom—once identifying an ultralight plane at about a hundred feet deep—but has never seen a large lake denizen or even the skeleton of one (Bondura 2005). Two days later, Ben and I flew over the same area in a seaplane (figure 7.4), scouring the waters for any sign of Ogopogo. Despite the excellent view, Ogie was still a no-show.

  Thus, much of our assessment of the Ogopogo phenomenon necessarily depended on the reports of eyewitnesses, including Gaal and Kirk. We also analyzed the numerous sightings chronicled by Gaal (2001, 185–208) and studied original photographs and film and video footage (see appendix 4 for more on that).

  Figure 7.3 Side-scanning sonar search of a portion of the lake revealed no leviathan. (Photo by Joe Nickell)

  Figure 7.4 Rattlesnake Island viewed from a seaplane. (Photo by Joe Nickell)

  SIGHTINGS

  In preparing for the trip to Okanagan, I studied the approximately 330 eyewitness sightings—dating from the eighteenth century to 2001—listed in the “Chronology” to Gaal’s In Search of Ogopogo (2001, 185—208). Mentally, I rounded up the usual suspects: wake effects, bobbing logs, beavers, otters, schools of fish, and many others. Although sturgeon are a probable candidate for some Lake Champlain sightings, at Okanagan, their presence has not been established; indeed, rewards of up to $10,000 have failed to produce a single sturgeon (Gaal 2001, 19).

  Since Susan Allison’s sighting in 1872—the first by a white settler—eyewitness reports of Ogopogo have proliferated. Blackman (1998, 69) and others overstate the uniformity of the descriptions of Ogopogo; to me, they seem quite varied. For example, the color may be light to dark green, dark brown, brown-black, blackish gray, or jet black; at least one source mentioned a white underside. The skin has been described as smooth, snakelike, or shiny. The height out of the water ranges from three to seven feet, with some estimates of up to fifteen feet. The length is highly variable and includes small creatures dubbed “Ogopups” and larger animals from eight to seventy feet long. The head has been likened to that of a snake, sheep, cow, deer, or horse, with protrusions said to be horns or ears, and with beady eyes and whiskers. The body is said to resemble a log or a great snake, featuring “saw-edged coils” or one to several humps. Appendages reportedly include various fins, flippers, or webbed feet; sometimes it has a forked tail. The creature’s movement is often described as “undulating,” but it also frolics, splashes, swims rapidly, slaps the water with its tail, and so on (Gaal 2001, 185–208).

  It seems extremely unlikely that the eyewitnesses were seeing a single type of creature—let alone that it was a plesiosaur, zeuglodon, basilo-saurus, or any other extinct or unknown creature. However, by picking out some of the more common features and allowing for mispercep-tions and exaggerations, I was able to produce a composite drawing of Ogopogo and show its similarity to an otter—actually, several otters swimming in a line (figure 7.5). As with other lake monster habitats around the world, Lake Okanagan coincides with the habitat of otters, in this case, the northern river otter (Lutra canadensis), as shown in the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mammals (Whitaker 1996, 782–85).

  Figure 7.5 Composite drawing of Ogopogo (top) is compared with otters swimming in a line (bottom) (after Gould 1976, 116). (
Drawings by Joe Nickell)

  Of course, not all lake monster sightings are of otters. However, they may be responsible for some of the best sightings, such as the one in 1989 by John Kirk (1998, 52–53) and others: The animal was an estimated thirty-five to forty feet long and consisted of “five sleek, jet-black humps” and a lashing tail. It was moving very fast—perhaps, the eyewitnesses thought, twenty-five miles per hour. Although such an estimate is probably inaccurate, being based on multiple unknowns (e.g., the size of the “animal” and its distance from viewers), it should be noted that “otters are among the fastest swimmers of all animals,” having a cruising speed of six miles per hour and the ability to go “much faster” (Collier’s Encyclopedia 1993).

  FILM AND VIDEO

  Photographic evidence of Ogopogo is generally poor, as we found from perusing Arlene Gaal’s collection. However, she showed us three film or video sequences that were of interest.

  The Folden Film. This footage was shot by Art Folden in August 1968. Driving along Highway 97 with his family, he saw something moving in the water and pulled off the road to record the object with his 8mm movie camera. The result resembles a fast-moving log. Most observers believe that it’s a swimming creature, although I think it could be two, one swimming behind the other. Folden estimated that the object was three hundred yards offshore, and Ogopogo enthusiasts have concluded that the object was very large and moving quite fast (Gaal 2001, 46–52; Kirk 1998, 47–48).

  Ben sold NGTV on the idea of doing an on-site experiment involving the Folden film. We selected a site south of Peachland that Ben, John, and I agreed was either Folden’s original site or a nearby one consistent with it. Briefly, the experiment involved placing a boat at varying distances from the shore, established by a surveying crew. The three of us agreed on an approximate offshore distance where Folden’s creature would have been. The results demonstrated that the distance was far less than Folden had thought; therefore, estimates of the object’s size and speed had to be reduced accordingly. (See appendix 4 for Ben’s analysis of this and other films.)