Lake Monster Mysteries (9 page)

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).

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 should 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.