by Steve Alten
"And that's what I saw?"
"That's right. Don't feel bad, Kate, it fools a lot of people, though people tend to see what they want to see. Another popular illusion is created by large-keeled boats, like ferries or tugboats. As they move through Loch Ness, these powerful vessels create deep wave disturbances that travel along the bottom. When these waves eventually reach the shallows, the energy is forced up to the surface, causing a great upheaval of water that people swear is the monster breaching."
"Tell us more," said the German woman, as she snapped a picture of me with her digital phone-camera.
I continued, the diversion of the lecture, combined with the effects of my prescription pills combining to lessen my hydrophobia. "The abundant wildlife at Loch Ness has been deceiving tourists for decades. The area is home to cormorants—water birds with large necks that stick out of the water. And Merganser ducks, they can drive Nessie watchers crazy. As they move through the water, the ducks create V-shaped wakes, which resemble something large moving below the surface. From far away, a line of ducks can resemble humps in the water. Deer, otters, and seals are also found in Loch Ness, then you've got your pumas and badgers, leopards, bobcats, sheep, goats, and rats—"
"Rats?"
"Don't worry, the Anguilla eat them."
"What are Anguilla?" Kate Coffey asked.
"They're a nasty species of eel that inhabit Great Britain, with sharp teeth and—"
"I saw a moray eel once in the Sea Aquarium," said the older Jordan boy, Neil. "It was cool."
"Oh, Anguilla eels look and act nothing like morays," I said. "They're long and serpentlike, with thick bodies and two fore fins that allow them to crawl on land. They've been called the meanest, moodiest fish ever to grab a hook."
"How big do they get?"
"The males remain small, maybe reaching twenty-five pounds, but the females… they can grow to twelve feet, exceeding several hundred pounds."
"Geez."
"Are they born in Loch Ness?" Clay Jordan asked.
"Actually, no …" My voice trailed off, an acorn of thought planting itself in my subconscious, its growth instantly retarded by the squawk of Brandy's loudspeaker. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Wallace, but if everyone would look to starboard, you'll see Achnahannet. Back in the sixties, this small village was the location for the Loch Ness Phenomenon Investigation Bureau. It was also in these waters that the famous speedboat racer, John Cobb, died tragically in 1953 when he attempted to break the world's water speed record."
"Was it the monster that killed him, Dr. Wallace?" This from a thin American woman sporting a dozen painful-looking body piercings.
"Well, Miss—"
"Johnston. Dena Johnston. It was Nessie, wasn't it?"
"Tell me, Dena, which of the two is more likely, that an ancient creature rose up from the Loch and struck the boat, or that John Cobb simply lost control when his speed surpassed 240 miles an hour?"
"I don't know, the speed, I guess, but it's still possible, right? I mean, I've seen photos taken underwater, photos that clearly show the monster's flipper. How can you deny that?"
"Unfortunately, the famous photo you're talking about was not Robert Rines's original, it was an enhanced version, created by an ambitious graduate student working at NASA's Jet Propulsion Lab. It was his digital signal scanning process that fleshed-out the flipper effect, not Rines's original negative."
A heavy silence took the boat, the passengers obviously disappointed with having me shoot holes into the Loch Ness legend.
Brandy quickly attempted to lighten the mood. "Hey, folks, Invermoriston on our right, look at Invermoriston. The hamlet's surrounded by a dense forest known as the—"
"Not so fast, Dr. Wallace." An American wearing a University of Iowa T-shirt raised his hand. "James Keigan, I do a lot of freelance writing on the Internet, my blogs deal with the unexplained. After doing extensive research, I happen to agree with the experts that claim Nessie's a plesiosaur."
Nods of agreement.
"Okay, James, since you've done so much 'extensive research,' maybe you could explain to us how a plesiosaur, a prehistoric aquatic reptile that went extinct 65 million years ago, is still living in a freshwater Loch."
"First, plesiosaurs and ichthyosaurs used to live in the area of the North Sea. Do you deny that?"
"No denial here."
"And do you deny that Loch Ness was once open to the North Sea, prior to the last ice age?"
"Technically, Loch Ness still flows into the North Sea, but the depths of the River Ness are far too shallow to conceal something as large as a plesiosaur."
"I know that, but isn't it possible an undiscovered underwater passage might still exist, linking the North Sea to Loch Ness?"
"That's theory, not fact. Even so, you still haven't used your extensive research to show me how a colony of air-breathing plesiosaurs managed to escape extinction to inhabit Loch Ness without anyone actually seeing them."
"I never said it was a colony. Could just be a few survivors."
"From 65 million years ago?"
"Why not? The coelacanth was believed extinct for 300 million years, yet we discovered them to be alive, inhabiting the deep waters off the coast of Madagascar. And Loch Ness is deeper than that."
Several passengers clapped in agreement.
"Okay, but you're comparing a forty-foot reptile with a six-foot-long species of lobe-finned fish."
"What about this!" The German woman, Bibi, held up a copy of a photo she had purchased in Drumnadrochit. It was the famous "surgeon's photo," a surface shot of a long-necked animal resembling a breaching plesiosaur taken by an English gynecologist, R. K. Wilson, back in 1934.
"Sorry, Bibi, the photo's a fake. The photographer claimed the animal had been several hundred yards from shore when he shot it. An analysis of the angle of the shot and its ripples, completed decades later, proves the photographer was only about thirty yards away. The man who took it actually confessed to using a miniature model before he died."
"Attention! attention!" Brandy interrupted, "we're approaching Eileen Mhuireach, or Murdoch's Island, sometimes called Cherry Island. This island, the only one on Loch Ness, is actually a manmade structure known as a crannog. It was built back in the sixteenth century as a fortified retreat. This particular crannog is made of a raft of oak logs and heavy rocks. The whole thing's secured to the bottom using a series of wooden posts."
The passengers hardly glanced at the man-made island, their attention still focused on me.
A stocky American rose from the far end of the bench, and I recognized his wrestler's physique, which was covered in tattoos. "We met years ago, Dr. Wallace. Chris Oldham?"
"Yes. You were one of the assistant producers who worked on that NOVA special."
"That's right. 'The Beast of Loch Ness', the one that aired back in '99. Our show reunited researchers Charlie Wyckoff and Bob Rine. Anyway, if you recall, despite having access to modern sonar equipment and high-tech underwater cameras, nothing conclusive ever came out of our investigation."
"Just like all the other investigations that preceded it."
"Exactly. Now you began this little boat ride stating you felt certain something large inhabits this Loch—those were your very words. Coming from the only person ever to witness a living giant squid, well, let's just say I take your claim rather seriously. Still, everything you've said since then flies in the face of that statement."
A telltale purple spot winked at me in the corner of my right eye.
"You've eloquently told us everything the monster is not. How about telling us what you think the monster really is."
Murmurs of agreement. The passengers pushed in closer to listen. "Maybe I should clarify my earlier statement. It was just a personal belief, nothing more."
"Based upon what body of evidence?"
Brandy stepped down from the wheelhouse. "That evidence'll be explained fully on our return trip from Fort Augustus, right Dr. Wallace? As fer now, I'll nee
d ye all to gather your belongings as we'll be docking in just a few minutes. A two-hour break'll give ye plenty o' time tae do a little sightseein' an' shoppin'. Fort Augustus is the largest village on Loch Ness, with many fine restaurants and shops. I recommend stopping at the Abbey, and ye'll definitely want to see …"
But Oldham refused to be put off by Brandy's sales pitch. "Yes or no, Dr. Wallace, do you believe large, mysterious aquatic animals inhabit Loch Ness?"
The passengers waited.
Brandy returned to the wheelhouse, emphatically nodding yes.
I closed my eyes, the migraine teasing at my right eye, the ghosts of Loch Ness at my spine.
"It's a simple question, Dr. Wallace. Yes or no?"
"No."
Moans of disappointment.
"Then you lied to us earlier?"
"I didn't lie. What I should've said, what I meant to say was there could be something large down there, but whatever it is, it's nothing to do with the Nessie lore as we know it."
"All right then, if you actually believe that, then why not investigate the Loch yourself? Whether you realize it or not, the Sargasso incident, combined with everything that's happened to your father, has drawn huge interest from our sponsors. I'd say the timing couldn't be more perfect for a well-financed investigation of Loch Ness, headed by Dr. Zachary Wallace himself."
The passengers clapped enthusiastically.
"Is that what brought you on this boat, Mr. Oldham?"
His smile revealed his intentions. "Let's just say, we try to deliver what our viewers want to see. The Werner Herzog movie was tongue- in-cheek, the public prefers something more scientific. Just say the word, Dr. Wallace, and I can have a film crew, research vessel, and sonar equipment at your disposal in less than a week."
My heart beat like a race horse's as Brandy cut the Nessie III's engine, maneuvering us into an open berth in the Fort Augustus marina. "Dr. Wallace, could ye grab the bow line for me? Hello? Zachary… the bow line?"
I refused to move, the pressure in my head continuing to build, the NOVA producer refusing to back down. "The public trusts you, Dr. Wallace. Why not end the controversy here and now?"
Frustrated, Brandy grabbed the line herself and jumped onto the dock. "I think Dr. Wallace would like to mull this over and discuss it on oor return trip, ain't that right, Dr. Wallace?"
Return trip? Was she insane?
"And everyone who prepays now will save an extra two pounds—"
"No," I said, interrupting her commercial. "Look, Mr. Oldham, I appreciate your offer, but I'm not a cryptozoologist, and I don't want the world to perceive me as one. All this nonsense about monsters creates an impossible environment to conduct a serious study. Fakes, phony sightings, doctored photos, childish pranks, tongue-in-cheek movies… is it any wonder so many reputable scientists avoid Loch Ness like the plague? You want to know if there's a large water creature inhabiting these waters? My answer is maybe, but I'm not interested in risking my reputation as a marine biologist to find out."
"That's where you and I disagree," Oldham said. "Settling the debate once and for all would actually enhance your status as a scientist."
"Tell that to Denys Tucker," I mumbled.
"Maybe he's just afraid?" Bibi surmised.
The migraine moved into its next stage as the Nessie III settled into an open berth.
'Are you afraid, Dr. Wallace?" Oldham accused.
"It's okay to be afraid," offered the younger Jordan boy. "I'd be afraid to go down there, too."
My insides gurgling, I patted the four-year-old on the head, then stood, pushing my way through the wall of passengers.
"Zachary, wait!"
Ignoring Brandy's calls, I jumped onto the dock, my eyeball throbbing as I frantically searched for a public bathroom in which to be sick.
Chapter 11 Quotes
It was about 3 PM on an overcast day when I saw it. Its head and neck rose from the calm surface of the Loch and moved along quite near the shore. The head was small in comparison to the thickness of the creature's neck. After about five minutes, a passing steamer sounded its siren and the creature, after turning its head in an agitated manner, plunged out of sight.
—MISS RENA MACKENZIE, INVERMORISTON, 22 DECEMBER 1935
Loch Ness was calm the day my first mate (Rich) and I took the (steam tug) Arrow on her maiden voyage from Leith to Manchester. Suddenly, we noticed a huge black animal, like a humpbacked whale, emerge on the surface and keep pace with the ship. At first we saw two distinct humps, one after the other, but after a brief disappearance, the beast reappeared with seven humps or coils, before tearing past the tug at a terrific speed, leaving large waves.
—CAPTAIN BRODIE, 30 AUGUST 1938
Chapter 11
Fort Augustus, Loch Ness
Scotland
Nearly two hours after docking in Fort Augustus, I emerged from the men's public bathroom, drained and pale, the effects of the migraine still lingering like a bad morning hangover. I was in no shape, physically or mentally, to manage a return trip up the Loch, and yet I knew I was in deep shit with Brandy.
Honesty's the best policy, Zack. Tell her about your phobia, and she'll have to forgive you.
Rehearsing my speech, I walked slowly back to the Nessie III. Brandy was out on deck, cleaning. Before I could get in a word edgewise, she launched her attack from the starboard rail.
"Well, look who decided tae come home. First, ye blow me off last night, then ye ruin my bloody tour."
"Ruined?"
"Do ye see anyone besides us standin' here? Ye dumb bastard, ye chased them all away! Never tell payin' customers there's no Nessie. What the hell were ye thinkin'?"
"Wait, I didn't say that."
"Tae hell ye didnae. No, Miss Kate, that's a wave. No, Mister James, that's a duck. No, Mr. Nova-Producer, I'd never risk my bloody Albert Einstein reputation by investigatin' a ridiculous Highland legend like Nessie. Twenty-three tourists, my best load all season, an' ye sent every one o' them off tae ride home wi' my competition."
"Brandy, I'm sorry, but see, ever since the Sargasso thing I …"
"Fuck yersel', Zachary Wallace! I never want tae see ye again, dae ye hear? Far as I'm concerned, ye can crawl back tae Inverness an' hang wi' yer no good faither."
Having worked herself into a good lather, she proceeded to toss things at me. First it was her bucket and sponge, then her shoes, one of which caught me across the shoulder. Still not satisfied, she hustled down to the galley, emerging moments later with a cast-iron frying pan, which barely missed my head.
When she went for the anchor, I took off running.
I left the waterfront and hailed a taxi. Forty minutes later, the driver dropped me off at the Clansman Hotel, where I picked up my motorcycle and rode back to Drumnadrochit.
True was gone, probably fishing somewhere. I considered waiting for him, but the thought of being alone at the lodge while Crabbit stalked the mountainside in his thirteenth-century pajamas and sword was clearly not an option. So I left True a note, included my contact information in Inverness, then drove off, convinced this would be my last appearance in the village of my birth.
* * *
There was a note waiting for me at my hotel when I returned.
Dearest Half Brar:
Monday's an important day for us. After being locked up for nearly four months, Angus is anxious to have his square-go at it. He thanks our Creator in heaven that his own flesh and blood will be in court to help him in this, his time of need, and requests you wear a nice suit and clean keks (boxers) so as not to put off the jury. (Ha) See you at 8:30 AM sharp.
—Maxie
The thought of my father, isolated from society, alone in his cell, sober and grateful to have me by his side after so many years brought tears to my eyes.
Had I known then what Angus had in store for me, I'd have been on the next plane home to Miami.
Chapter 12 Quotes
Isolation (also) is an important element i
n the modification of species through Natural Selection. All fresh water basins, taken together, make a small area compared with that of the sea or of the land. Consequently, the competition between fresh water productions will have been less severe than elsewhere; new forms will have been more slowly produced, and old forms more slowly exterminated. And it is in fresh water basins that we find seven genera of Ganoid fishes, remnants of a once preponderant order. These anomalous forms may be called living fossils; they have endured to the present day, from having inhabited a confined area, and from having been exposed to less varied, and therefore less severe, competition.
—CHARLES DARWIN, THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES, 1859
I had no doubt that there was something abnormal in the Loch and that it must be the monster or some unusually big living object which was making one of its rare appearances.
—MR. J.W. MCKILLOP , 4 APRIL 1947
Chapter 12
Inverness Castle, Scottish Highlands
Scotland
The high court of justiciary is now back in session, Lord Neil Hannam presiding."
The judge took his place behind his bench, wished his clerks a cheery good morning, then addressed Max. "Mr. Rael, is the defense prepared to make its case?"
