Read Loch Ness Monsters and Raining Frogs The Worlds Most Puzzling Mysteries Solved Online
Authors: Albert Jack
Loch Ness Monsters and Raining Frogs The Worlds Most Puzzling Mysteries Solved (12 page)
,
how come there have been so many pictures
and sightings? And is Nessie really Nellie?
The first documented sighting of a monster inhabiting Loch Ness was by St. Columba in
A.D. 565
. According to this account, the Christian missionary was traveling through the Highlands when he came across a group of Picts holding a funeral by the loch. They explained that they were burying a fellow tribesman who had been out on the loch in his boat when he had been attacked by a monster. Columba immediately ordered young Lugne Mocumin, one of his own followers, to swim across the loch to retrieve the dead man's boat. Detecting lunch was on its way again, the great beast reared up out of the water, at which Columba held up his cross and roared: “Thou shalt go no further, nor touch the man; go back with all speed!” And with that, the terrified monster apparently turned tail and “fled more quickly than if it had been pulled back with ropes, though it had just got so near to Lugne, as he swam, that there was not more than the length of a spear-staff between the man and the beast.” The group of Picts, very impressed by all this, converted to Christianity on the spot. However, as evidence of a monster living in the loch for the last fifteen hundred years, this account seems about as reliable as the story of the tooth fairy. Not least because St. Columba also claimed, a tad implausibly, to have had various other successful run-ins with Scottish monsters, once even slaying a wild boar just with his voice. Nevertheless, many were convinced by the Loch Ness tale.
Then there was silence on the monster front until some strange sightings were reported in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. But the Loch Ness Monster, as we have come to know and love it, wasn't really “born” until much later—not until 1933, in fact, when (prosaically enough) the A82 trunk road had finally been completed along the western shore of Loch Ness, connecting the western town of Fort William with the busy port of Inverness on the North Sea. Providing easy access for tourists and industry alike, the road also offered a route past the picturesque loch for the first time.
Nearby Inverness had a long-standing and hugely popular tradition of hosting an annual circus. In 1933, Bertram Mills took his circus to Inverness along the new A82 for the first time, where his road crew would have stopped along the banks of Loch Ness to rest and feed the animals. Coincidentally that was when the sightings of the Loch Ness Monster began. Bertram Mills, ever the entrepreneur, quickly used the local story to his advantage by offering PS20,000 (nearly PS2 million today) to anybody who could prove that they had seen the great beast. It was a sum Mills seemed suspiciously unable to afford to pay out. But the public flocked to the area nevertheless, sightings soared, and more people than ever before attended his shows in case the monster might make an appearance.
But how could Mills have been so sure nobody could legitimately claim the reward? My theory is that he must have seen the famous photo of a plesiosaur-like creature taken in 1933 near Invermoriston by a Scottish surgeon and had known that it was no monster. At the time, skeptics claimed the photograph was a fake: the creature it showed was thought to have been an otter or maybe vegetation floating on the surface of the loch. It was even said to be an elaborate hoax created using a toy submarine. But Bertram Mills had seen an elephant swim before and must have realized the photograph taken was most likely of one of his animals bathing in the loch. The financial benefits of staying silent about this were obvious, however.
Soon afterward, on April 14, 1933, a Mr. and Mrs. Mackay claimed that they had seen a “large … whale-like beast” idling in the loch and that it had then dived under, causing “a great disturbance” in the water. They had immediately reported the sighting to a local gamekeeper, Alex Campbell. Campbell, conveniently enough, also turned out to be an amateur reporter for
The Inverness Courier.
His embellished account of the sighting, entitled “Strange Spectacle on Loch Ness,” appeared on May 2, 1933, and brought him instant fame. The world's monster hunters, not to mention the media, then descended on this remote area of the Scottish Highlands, previously known only for its fishing.
The dial of Loch Ness Monster excitement was then cranked up even further by the
Daily Mail
, when they sent in a professional team of monster hunters headed by the wonderfully named big-game hunter Marmaduke Wetherell. The
Mail
ran a daily piece on his efforts to lure the monster from its lair and to bag the beast. And within just two days, the headlines announced he had found unusual footprints on the shoreline. A cast was sent to the British Museum for identification and the Scots were reveling in the global attention their country was receiving. But the following week they were hanging their heads in shame when the cast proved to be the imprint of a stuffed hippopotamus foot, probably an umbrella stand from some local hostelry or tavern. Weatherall denied any mischief making, and it was never proved whether it had been hunter or hoaxer who had laid the false tracks.
The two most compelling photographs of the “monster” are world famous. One depicts a creature with a long grayish neck that tapers into an eerie thin head rising out of the water, followed by two humps. Roy Chapman Andrews, the American explorer and director of the American Museum of Natural History upon whom Indiana Jones was based, went on record in 1935 arguing that he had seen the original picture and that it had been “retouched” by newspaper artists before being published. He firmly stated the original picture was of the dorsal fin of a killer whale.
Most other experts disagree. As do I: to my mind, it is clearly the trunk of an elephant, with the first hump being the head and the second its back, almost certainly one of Bertram Mills's, taken as the circus elephants swam in the loch. Hugh Gray was the photographer: “I immediately got my camera ready and snapped the object which was then two to three feet above the surface of the water. I did not see any head, for what I took to be the front parts were under the water, but there was considerable movement from what seemed to be the tail.” This photograph has been declared genuine by photographic experts and shows no signs of tampering, unlike so many of the others. And that is because, in my view, it is a genuine photograph—of a genuine elephant. No retouching required.
But the best-known photograph is the one taken by surgeon Robert Kenneth Wilson on April 19, 1934. Indeed, it must be one of the most instantly recognizable pictures ever taken. From a distance of two hundred yards, what has come to be known as the “surgeon's photo graph” shows a gray “trunk” of around four feet protruding from the water with a hump directly behind it and clear disturbance in the water around. Once developed and declared genuine, the picture was bought and published by the
Daily Mail
and the Loch Ness Monster industry was properly born.
Curiously enough, when asked what he thought he had seen, Wilson claimed to have been too busy setting up his camera to take proper note, but thought there was certainly something strange in the loch. The next question then should have been: “Why didn't you wait around for a while to see if it returned?” If he had, he might well have seen the elephant surfacing, as it would have had to sooner or later. Then again, perhaps he did, but greed rather than valor influenced the better part of his discretion.
As recently as March 2006, Neil Clark, the curator of paleontology at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow, has stated (thus confirming something I have believed for many years): “It is quite possible that people not used to seeing a swimming elephant—the vast bulk of the animal is submerged, with only a thick trunk and a couple of humps visible—thought they saw a monster.” Dr. Clark also notes that most sightings came around the time of Bertram Mills's reward offer for evidence of the monster. He himself believes that most of the other sightings can probably be explained away by floating logs or unusual waves. But just as it seemed the eminent professor was about to finally blow the Loch Ness Monster out of the water, so to speak, he was asked by the BBC whether he believed there was a large creature living in the loch. To which he responded: “I believe there is something alive in Loch Ness.” And he's not wrong, is he? There must be “something” alive in the loch; in fact there are lots of living things swimming around in it. But at least he didn't go on to say it was a fifteen-hundred-year-old sea monster, which it would have to be, as that is the premise upon which this whole story has been constructed.
But to be fair to Dr. Clark, the Loch Ness Monster is big business for Scotland. Consult ants have estimated it to be worth in the region of PS50 million per annum and rising. More than five hundred thousand tourists travel to the area every year in the hope of sighting the beast, despite Bertram Mills's reward expiring with him. Some claim the industry has even created twenty-five hundred new jobs. And the monster-spotting tour comes in at PS15 a head. Dr. Clark would not be popular in his home country if he finally dispelled the myth many love and even more rely upon.
Since the elephant-heavy 1930s there have been dozens of sightings of objects of varying shapes and sizes. Even if paddling pachyderms are no longer the likeliest explanation, other theories are plausible. Loch Ness is actually a sea lake, fed from the Moray Firth in the North Sea via the River Ness. Furthermore, the Moray Firth is one of the areas of British seawater most frequented by porpoises, dolphins, and whales. Indeed, seals and dolphins have been filmed in the loch many times. If the mind wants to see a monster, three partly submerged dolphins swimming in a row could easily provide the illusion of a thirty-foot, three-humped creature in the gathering gloom— especially after a few drams of the local malt. I myself have encountered a few three-humped monsters after a lively evening out before now.
The BBC has used sonar and satellite imagery to scan every inch of the loch and found “no trace of any large animal living there.” But, as has always been the case with myths, legends, and fables, while it is possible to prove the positive by producing irrefutable evidence, it is never possible to prove the opposite argument.
We could dam Loch Ness and drain it. We would then be able to take everybody still perpetuating the myth down into this vast new dry valley and show them every nook, cave, and rock cluster, but still the hard-core believers would reply: “Ah, but Nessie may well be out in the North Sea at the moment just limbering up for another appearance.” But of course that is not the reason at all. Everyone from Columba (who told that miraculous story, embroidered or otherwise, which led to his canonization) onward has profited from retelling the tall tale of Loch Ness. The only surprise is that so many people have, and still do, strongly believe there is an unidentified prehistoric monster living in a Scottish loch. Some argue that it is a historical fact; I know it's just a hysterical one. I'm here to inform you, kids—there is no such thing as the Loch Ness Monster. Just don't tell anyone it was me who told you.
in a car crash back in 1966?
On October 12, 1969, Tom Zarski rang “Uncle” Russ Gibb's radio show on WKNR-FM in Dearborn, Michigan, and announced that Paul McCartney had been killed in an accident in November 1966 and the Beatles had drafted in a look-alike to keep the band fully functioning. He backed up his argument with several pieces of credible circumstantial evidence, including the decision by the band in 1967 to stop playing live in order to concentrate on their studio recordings and film work.
Russ Gibb was so intrigued by the story that he then spent two hours on air mulling over the clues and playing Beatles records. When one caller urged him to play “Revolution 9” (from the White Album) backward, Gibb was amazed to find he could distinctly make out the words “Turn me on, dead man” through his headphones. Even though Zarski had pointed out that he didn't actually believe Paul McCartney was dead, he was just interested in the theory, by the end of the program networks across the United States were discussing the mysterious death of one of the world's most famous rock stars and the events surrounding his demise. Hundreds of news journalists promptly flew to London and interviewed as many of the con spiracy theorists as they could find, and from the reports that followed the only certainty is that many of them were experimenting with LSD, as none of it made much sense at all.
The story ran that on the evening of Tuesday, November 8, 1966, Paul McCartney and John Lennon were working late into the night on the Beatles’ upcoming album
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
, when a row developed over recording techniques and McCartney stormed out of the studio. Furious, he sped off in his Aston Martin and smashed into a van, dying instantly. The resulting fire prevented the coroner from positively identifying the body, but the remaining band members were left in no doubt at all that McCartney had not survived. Another caller to Russ Gibb's show claimed that McCartney had picked up a hitchhiker that night. When the girl realized who he was, she had suddenly screamed and lunged at her hero, causing him to crash into the van. Neither the hitchhiker nor the other driver was ever seen or heard from again.
The public mourned as shock set in, but there was one unavoidable question: If McCartney had died in 1966, who was the man who looked like Paul and who had been hanging out with the Beatles ever since? The explanation ran that Beatles manager Brian Epstein was so horrified at the thought of the world's most successful band breaking up that he held secret auditions and persuaded John, George, and Ringo to have all their photographs taken with a standin to keep the public unaware of the accident. When Epstein died only nine months later, after a battle with depression and drug abuse, his untimely demise was cited as another piece of evidence. It was said that he just couldn't come to terms with the loss of McCartney. The Paul-is-dead mystery was also conveniently used to explain McCartney's sudden split from his long-term fiancee, Jane Asher (because McCartney standin William Shears Campbell didn't like her) and that his new relationship with Linda Eastman (later McCartney) was Campbell's real love interest.
Another piece of supposedly compelling evidence is that for several years the other three Beatles had wanted to stop playing live shows because the audiences were screaming so loudly they couldn't hear anything, but McCartney had resisted. With Paul gone, the remaining three could do as they pleased—indeed, the Beatles had last performed live on August 29, 1966, at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, and played no more live concerts after that. Con spiracy theorists nodded and agreed that it all made perfect sense, while others, including the Beatles, laughed it off as a ridiculous urban legend.
And still the story continued. One American radio announcer had photographs of the singer before and after November 1966 scientifically compared and found there were obvious differences, one being that the nose was of a different length. A doctor from the University of Miami analyzed voice recordings and concluded publicly that the recordings prior to August 1966 were different from those recorded afterward. Paul McCartney, he claimed, did not sing on Beatles records after August 1966.
By now fans all over the world were beginning to look for their own clues in Beatles music and album covers, and the clues turned up in spades. Here then are some of them, and the evidence seemingly pointing to the fact that Paul McCartney was dead.
Sgt. Pepper's
was the first album the Beatles released after the supposed accident, after recording began on December 6, 1966. When it reached the shops in June 1967, nobody noticed anything unusual about the artwork in connection with the Paul McCartney mystery, but in 1969 conspiracy theorists were able to detect a range of coded references to Paul's demise. For a start, the band appear to be standing at a graveside complete with flowers and wreaths. They are surrounded by famous personalities, who could be mourners, and one of them is holding an open hand above McCartney's head, an open hand said to be a traditional Eastern symbol for death. The theorists looked closer and concluded that the yellow flowers at the foot of the picture are arranged in the shape of a left-handed bass guitar, Paul's instrument, and one of the four strings is missing, signifying his absence. Under the doll's arm on the right-hand side there appears to be a bloodstained driving glove; the doll itself has a head wound similar to the one Paul was supposed to have died from; and the figure of Paul is wearing a badge on his sleeve on the inside cover bearing the letters OPD, standing for “officially pronounced dead.”
The open-palm gesture actually also appears on the front cover of
Revolver
, twice in the
Magical Mystery Tour
booklet, twice in the
Magical Mystery Tour
film, and twice on the cover of the original
Yellow Submarine
sleeve, but, in reality, none of it means anything at all. There is no such gesture in Indian culture symbolizing death. The badge Paul is wearing on the inside sleeve does not read “OPD;” it has the initials OPP on it. The badge was in fact given to McCartney when he visited the Ontario Provincial Police in Canada during the Beatles’ world tour in 1965.
A statue of Kali, a Hindu goddess, is also featured on the front cover of the
Sgt. Pepper's
album, which the theorists maintain represents rebirth and regeneration, hinting that one of the Beatles has been reborn, or replaced. But Kali, from which the name of Calcutta is believed to derive, has traditionally been a figure of annihilation, representing the destructive power of time
(kala
being the Sanskrit word for “time”).
Also, the O-shaped arrangement of flowers at the end of the band's name has caused some theorists to speculate that the whole thing reads “BE AT LESO” instead of “BEATLES.” This was taken as a sign that Paul was buried at Leso, the Greek island the band had supposedly bought. But none of the Beatles had bought a Greek island, and there is no such place as Leso.
There are many more pieces of “convincing” evidence. I've just picked out some of my favorites.
The Beatles all grew mustaches at the time to
help mask a scar on the lip of McCartney
standin William Shears Campbell.
In fact McCartney did grow a mustache for
Sgt. Pepper's
, as he was unable to shave at the time. Paul had fallen off his scooter on his way to visit his aunt and split his lip on the pavement, making it too painful to shave. He also lost a front tooth in the accident, which explains why he appears in the “Rain” and “Paperback Writer” promo videos missing one of his teeth. The accident also explains the scars seen during the
White Album
photograph sessions.
The license plate on the VW Beetle shown
on the Abbey Road cover reads LMW 281F, taken to
mean Paul would have been 28 “IF” he had survived.
But Paul would have been only twenty-seven, and the VW Beetle had nothing to do with anyone at Abbey Road. The director of the photo sessions tried to have it towed away, but the police took too long to arrive, so they went ahead with the picture anyway, leaving it in the shot.
McCartney is wearing no shoes in the
Abbey Road
photograph.
His explanation was: “It was a hot day and I wanted to take my shoes off, to look slightly different from the others. That's all that was about. Now people can tell me apart from the others.” But the conspiracy theorists swore that the picture had been set up to look like a funeral march, with him as the corpse.
On the records
Rubber Soul, Yesterday and Today, Help!
and
Revolver
there were said to be many more clues. The song “I'm Looking Through You” on
Rubber Soul
was thought to be about discovering that McCartney had been replaced. Some fans took these blatant “clues” as hard evidence, while others quickly realized all of those records were made prior to November 9, 1966, and could not possibly have anything to do with the supposed accident.
With hysteria mounting, however, even the thinnest clue came to look like definite evidence. In the lyrics to “I Am the Walrus,” the line “stupid bloody Tuesday” is taken by some to be John Lennon's reference to the day of the accident that claimed his bandmate. But when it was pointed out that the alleged accident was supposed to have happened on a Wednesday morning, conspiracy theorists then claimed it was the Tuesday night that the two of them had fallen out before McCartney had stormed off to his death. Some believed it, while others dismissed it as an already thin lead being stretched even thinner. But then came the line “waiting for the van to come,” a supposed reference to the ambulance, and “goo goo ga joob”—apparently Humpty Dumpty's last words before he fell off that wall and bashed his head in.
The Beatles themselves very quickly became very irritated by all the speculation. And it was not long before the band, aware that every lyric and photo shoot was now being studied, began to play up to the hysteria. After writing one complicated and seemingly meaningless song called “Glass Onion,” Lennon remarked, “Let the f[?][?]kers work that one out.” But he included the lines “Well here's another clue for you all / The walrus was Paul.” In no time at all, people were announcing that the walrus was a symbol of death in some cultures, and Lennon despaired. It wasn't much fun being a Beatle anymore, and the band broke up soon afterward.
So—to sum up—if the real Paul McCartney had died in his Aston Martin in 1966, and a replacement had been found in time for the photo shoots for the next album, then imagine the string of coincidences that needed to have taken place. For a start he had to look and sound just like Paul. Then he had to convince Linda or, if she was in on the plot, she had to like him enough to stay married to him for the next thirty years. And he would have had to learn how to play guitar left-handed, which is even less likely, I can assure you. John Lennon would have to have been fooled too, as it is unlikely he would have wanted to share songwriting credits and royalties with a stranger for the last three years of Beatles recordings, especially as Epstein wasn't there to tell him to. And most of all, for the look-alike to have written and recorded songs of a McCartney standard for over thirty years would be hard to imagine.
Hang on a minute, I have just remembered “The Frog Chorus” and “Mull of Kintyre,” and so my argument is beginning to wear thin. Perhaps Zarski was right in the first place—there must be an impostor …
