A Global Survey of Crypto-Zoology: Safari into the Unknown
by John Pappano
April 2 -Chatsworth, New Jersey
It was only a 35 minute trip on Route 72, till I was in the middle of rural
New Jersey. The trees of the Pine Barrens seemed frozen in time, their needles
exactly how I remembered them in my youth. In the summers of my boyhood, I
would spend weeks at Grandma Rutherford’s shore house, ever trip to
and fro was always along Route 72. Every night she would recite my favorite
bed time story, Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. That is when
my love affair with monsters began. The warm summer air made my bedroom seem
like a jungle and I pretended to be Max, creeping around screaming at the
top of my lungs. During adolescence, my imagination focused on tales of Bigfoot,
the Loch Ness Monster, Dragons, Beast men, and so on. I suppose that is why
I majored in biology at Rutgers University. I wondered how plausible the existences
of these creatures were. The thought of being a monster fraternizer, like
Max or catching a rare glimpse of the beasts I read about in my adolescent
years, was enough for me to decide to take up monster hunting as a hobby post
graduation, which is why I am sitting on this bus touring the Pine Barrens
of Southern New Jersey.
Mother Leed’s 13th Child, or more popularly known as the Jersey Devil,
calls this sandy soiled woodland its home. The Pine Barrens are dark forest,
complemented by the opaque waters of the Mullica River flowing through it.
The area seems like something out of the Grimm brother’s fairy tales,
I felt more likely to find Hansel and Gretel than the Jersey Devil. Interestingly
enough, the Jersey Devil is the only crypto-zoology creature whose origins
are in folklore. The tale goes Mrs. Leeds, a single mother living impoverished
with her twelve starving children, discovered she was to have another child.
She then exclaimed: "I don't want any more children! Let it be a devil."
Upon birth, the creature that exited Leed’s womb was a hideous beast.
The mid-wife died upon sight of the fiend. The Jersey Devil or Leed’s
Devil, and then proceeded to gobble up all twelve of its siblings. Then the
creature washed down their corpses with a helping of its own mother’s
blood (Perticaro http://www.strangemag.com/jerseydevil1.html).
I can remember grandma telling me stories about Leed’s
Devil. She once told me that school was closed for days, because one of her
classmates went missing and the townsfolk thought the Devil was behind it.
She would always tell me the Devil liked the taste of young flesh, and I guess
that was the part of this lore that scared and fascinated me the most. They
never did find her classmate.
This tour is boring…can’t wait to get out on my
own. Bruce Springsteen’s “Darkness at the Edge of Town”
is playing over the radio…perfect tune to rest my eyes too.
April 2 -Whitehorse Inn
The Whitehorse Inn is a restored pre-Revolutionary War tavern and lodge. To
my surprise it was quite accommodating. I have my own desk here, so I can
pen some more notes in this journal. I’ve got a weird feeling in my
stomach about this expenditure, or maybe that’s just the mac n’
cheese dinner I just inhaled. Regardless, it may be worth commenting here
(for future generations of readers and studiers of this journal assuming I
discover something significant) what exactly I plan on doing over these next
few weeks. Tomorrow morning it’s a hike on my own through the Pines,
and I’ll be camping out two nights. I’ll probably discuss the
day’s events in my journal each night. After that it’s back home
to pick up some things, rest, and jump on a plane across the Atlantic. Touchdown
in Scotland should be the morning of April 8th. I’ll be teaming up with
a fellow monster hunter and old friend, Elijah Brand, in search of Nessie,
the Loch Ness Monster. After three days, it’s back to the states for
re-supplying. Then head out to the Pacific Northwest for another solo camping
trip, this time I’ll be Bigfoot hunting. Assuming I’m still healthy
enough to continue exploring, I’ll head south by car to Mexico to investigate
the recent resurgence of goat and chicken mutilations. The locals blame this
mindless slaughter on the beast El Chupacabra. Finally back to New Jersey
sometime in mid-May. That’s over 40,000 miles in less than six weeks,
if everything goes according to plan. Anyway I’ve still got some packing
to do, so its time to shut this journal till tomorrow evening.
April 3 -Camping Ground
Peanuts, raisins, pretzels, and chocolate chips have some nutritional value-
I’m sure of it. They sure do make a tasty dinner, although it’s
nothing compared to a DeLorenzo’s tomato pie. Today I didn’t get
any significant leads, no tracks, no droppings, and no decaying corpses of
small children (just kidding on that last one). Right now, the sun is setting
in the west, giving the Pines an amber glow. If this scene wasn’t so
beautiful, a perfect blend of night and day I’d consider today a complete
disappointment. Sometimes I feel I’m so caught up in my work I don’t
get time to appreciate these things anymore. Other than that, nothing interesting
to comment on, except that it is peculiarly hot tonight, and that odd feeling
in my stomach still hasn’t gone away.
April 4- Home
Words cannot describe the horror of last night’s events. After finishing
my journal entry of what I thought to be an insignificant day, I went to bed.
It must’ve been near one o’clock when I was awoken by a soft whimpering
sound. Pulling my pillow over my ears I thought I could muffle out this noise,
which sounded similar to a stray dog. However, the noise grew louder. I could
ignore it no longer. It also became clearer and shriller, and then I could
finally decipher exactly what the whimpering was- a human child crying. As
frightful as I was, I grabbed my flashlight and exited my tent to investigate
the origin of the crying.
My ears lead me to a clearing approximately 15 yards or so away from my campsite.
I shined my flashlight across the floor of the Pines, and there I saw something
not meant for mortal eyes. There was an animal roughly the size of a tiger,
or another kind of large predatory cat. The creature’s under belly was
heavily scaled, like that of a crocodile as were its limbs. Its paws were
massive with large dinosaur like talons expunging from them. Its body was
well muscled and covered with a short, coarse fur. The creature’s face
was elongated like that of a horse and its mouth was filled with razor sharp
teeth. The antlers atop its head completed his ferocious hybrid appearance
(Perticaro http://www.strangemag.com/jerseydevil1.html). Pinned under its
massive right forepaw was a small child. The helpless soul’s skin was
bluish in color. It seemed life had exited that flesh cocoon. I could only
conclude that this daemon was the Jersey Devil.
Before I could reach for my camera, which I keep slung around
my neck at all times, the devil cast its yellow eyes upon me. Blood and saliva
oozed out of its mouth, when it gave out a shriek that felt like a thousand
needles in my heart, a cacophonous half-growl, half-hiss noise. The beast
leaped toward my direction with forepaws extended. In a nervous fit I dropped
my camera, and spun round running as fast as possible in the direction of
my car. I did not bother picking up anything I left at my campsite. I high
tailed it back up Route 72, never looking back in my review mirror at the
hellacious Pine Barrens.
I always thought of myself as a brave man, I can’t explain what happened
just a few hours ago. That was the first dead body I had ever seen. The child
looked so pallid. I need some rest. I need a drink. I’ll get back to
this journal when I’m in Scotland. Damn it, I was so close. Here are
some drawings, because I didn’t have my camera.
April 8th -Drumnadrochit, Scotland
Elijah picked me up at the airport as promised earlier this morning. He has
always been very punctual since I’ve known him, when he housed me during
my semester abroad at St. Andrews roughly three years ago. Eli (as we called
him) was always the first one awake in the house and would fix everyone a
Spartan breakfast. He never seemed depressed. He was always smiling and cheerful
despite Scotland having the greyest and most despicable weather I have ever
known. I was really homesick those few months, and Eli’s pleasant aura
always seemed to brighten my day. Sometimes his happiness was almost uncomforting,
like he was some kind of happiness robot built by Ecstatic Incorporated. Well
regardless, it was good to see him. He still had that ole fashion smile plastered
across his face when he greeted me in the airport.
We traveled to a home on the western bank of Loch Ness, so we could closely
monitor the movements of Nessie. In just two years post graduation from St.
Andrews (where he majored in biology just like me), Eli was considered a proficient
monster hunter. He had already documented over two dozen photographs of the
creature. Eli planned to show me some of these photos over a couple of pints
at the Drumnadrochit Pub. So I’ll put down this journal for now, tomorrow
morning we are going out on the Loch.
April 9th- Drumnadrochit, Scotland
My first experience with sea monsters was in my 10th grade marine biology
class. Our teacher asked us to do a report on any species of aquatic animal.
I had just read a book called Curious Creatures by zoologists John Ashton.
His section on sea serpents was so fascinating; I decided to write my report
on the mythical sea beasts, like the Sargon (Ashton 268). My teacher, Mrs.
Flanagan disapproved saying that “I best keep my head out of the clouds
and rewrite the paper on a REAL sea creature.” So I did rewrite the
paper, this time on the plesiosaur, an ancient marine dinosaur. Mrs. Flanagan
said the paper was creative and ambitious. She liked all the parts except
the end when I suggested that the monster of Loch Ness was a plesiosaur that
some how survived the mass extinction of 65 million years ago.
Anyways it was good to get back on the Loch. I had only been
once before during my semester abroad. Eli was making friendly conversation,
asking me about home. I was telling him crazy stories about New Jersey, somewhat
feeding his stereotype of the ugly American. I did neglect to tell him of
my experience in the Pines. I figured a person as cheerful as Eli should not
hear such horrific things. I was in the middle of a story about my brother,
a lampshade, and a Holiday Party when I noticed Eli’s eyes light up.
He pointed ecstatically over my left shoulder. I turned around to see an odd
disturbance amongst the usually calm waters of the Loch. There was a dark
round hump shape protruding about 14 inches above the surface. This could
be Nessie! Eli steered our small motor boat till we were within 10 feet of
the hump. The Loch’s water was so opaque the visibility beneath the
surface was slight. We maneuvered our boat closer and closer to the hump,
which began to take on a rubbery appearance. I reached out and placed my hand
on the hump and it began to bob up and down in the water. Surely this couldn’t
be the back of a plesiosaur, but my curiosity had already been peaked, so
I gently lifted the object out of the water.
Upon closer examination, the object appeared to be some sort of surveillance
device. It was completely black with a large clear plastic dome at each end.
There was a blinking light on the side, next to the word FULL. Eli then noticed
a compartment on the belly side of the contraption. We turned the thing over
(it was relatively light despite being well over three feet in length) and
popped open this hatch. Inside of the belly of the beast we noticed two rolls
of undeveloped film. I managed to pry the cartridges loose with a screwdriver
and entrusted them to Eli to develop. I’ve got to leave tomorrow so
I won’t be able to see the pictures until he mails them to me. What
strikes me as strange in this case is how a disappointment (no Nessie) could
make me feel so excited. Well anyways I best get some sleep got an early flight
back into the states tomorrow.
April 10th- US Air Flight 413, Seat 35A
This little kid behind me keeps kicking the back of my seat, preventing any
sort of nap I could have enjoyed on this oppressively long plan ride. It’s
a good thing my head phones work efficiently or I’d have him chewing
my ear off. Ugggg stomach wrenching image just re-entered my head.
Maybe if I crank the Boss up a couple notches it’ll drown
out that mess. Gotta love Springsteen, especially Nebraska, what an album!!
Anyways, I was contemplating yesterday’s semi disappointing discover.
I was thinking about all those people who told me that there is no Loch Ness
Monster. Skeptics tell me that the sightings are either hoaxes or misinterpretations
of logs, rocks, or floating mats of vegetation. Funny that the most famous
photo of the Loch Ness Monster was actually hoaxed with a dried up hippopotamus
foot. However, I won’t let it discourage me, even if there is nothing
on that film. I’ve got to keep searching. I must discover. I must be
a pioneer. I want an experience that I can call my own, that can be completely
unique, that no one can take from me. As horrifying as that run in with the
Jersey Devil was, I’d do it again. I’m carrying the torch for
science into the 21st century shedding the light of discovery on a dark and
misunderstood world. I don’t think it’s improbable for these creatures
to exist. Before biologists classified the Giant Squid in the early part of
the 19th century people thought they were sea monsters. In 1938 a man fishing
off the coast of Madagascar caught a coelacanth- a fish believed to be extinct
for nearly 70 million years (MacFarquhar 148-155). I wish I had some direction
with this rant, but I’ll just say this, I will document something on
this expenditure, I will make a discovery.
April 12th- Home
Tomorrow at dawn I’m packing up the Jeep and heading out for the west
coast. I bought a camcorder at Best Buy today; hopefully I won’t smash
this one. My destination is Bluff Creek on the California-Oregon border. This
is the site of the famous Patterson/Gimlin film of the crypto-zoology rock
star known as Bigfoot. Perhaps the most popular of the creatures on this safari,
Bigfoot has had everything from a pizza to a monster truck named after him
(not to mention he starred in the ABC sitcom “Harry and the Henderson’s”).
I will camp near Bluff Creek for at least three days, and then I’m packing
up my stuff and heading south of the border to Mexico. Well I’ve still
got a lot of precautions to look over and I’ve got to check the air
in my tires. So I’ll get back to this journal my first camping night
in Bluff Creek.
April 23rd- Bluff Creek
Coast to coast in ten days, not a world record but not too shabby either.
The trip across country was immaculate. The soft blue of the sky above the
Great Plains, and the majestic peaks of the Rockies took my breath away at
every turn. I shoot some footage along the way so I can treasure those sights
well into my later years. I also found the coolest thing along the side of
the highway in Arizona, a cattle skull. I roped it to the front of the Jeep,
now all I need is a wide brim hat, high boots, tight jeans, a huge belt buckle
and I’ll be set.
Bluff Creek is one of the most popular areas in the monster
hunter circles. In 1957, when a road was being paved into the area (which
had previously been wilderness) workers found 15” human like footprints.
When the media was notified of such a discovery, the Bigfoot legend was born
(http://www.oregonbigfoot.com/patterson.php). However, Bigfoot’s origin
supercedes contemporary America. The Sherpa of the Himalayas folklore includes
tales of the abominable snowman, or Yeti.
Like I mentioned before this area is where Roger Patterson shot his famous
Bigfoot film. According to his testimony, Patterson and his friend Robert
Gimlin set out to find an elusive Bigfoot (Patterson is an enthusiastic monster
hunter and Gimlin an experienced outdoorsman). On the morning of October the
20, 1967 Patterson was surprised by a female Bigfoot, near a gravel sandbar
in the creek. His startled horse fell over and pinned him beneath. Patterson
however, an accomplished horsemen, escaped and shot 24 feet of color footage
of what he believes was a Bigfoot. I have seen this footage over and over
again, and next to the Sistine Chapel it may be the most impressive thing
I have ever laid eyes upon (http://www.oregonbigfoot.com/patterson.php).
April 26th- Bluff Creek
Due to the emotion known as sheer excitement I have not been able to sleep
or had time to write in this journal for the last few nights. I have been
out in the brush collecting data about the wildlife of the area, and looking
for things abnormal and Bigfoot-like. On the morning of the 24th, I discovered
two separate tracks leading from the wood to the creek of footprints. These
prints are both over fifteen inches in length and six inches in width. I believe
them to be a pair of mating Bigfoot creatures, which make a routine trip to
the creek at a certain time of day to drink. I also found branches snapped
like twigs 6’ 10” above the ground. These are very big creatures.
After studying the prints for several days and I noticed that fresher prints
coming away from the creek are made in the evening (maybe around 7), and the
prints going to the creek are freshly made around 5:30. Therefore tomorrow
I’m going to stake out the creek late tomorrow afternoon with my camcorder,
in hopes of capturing these elusive creatures on film.
April 27th-Bluff Creek
Today was truly extraordinary in the world of crypto-zoology. I staked out
the creek as planned. I was camouflaged in a blanket of leaves I had made
the night before. Under this blanket I hid with my camcorder pointed in the
direction of the creek. Around, 6:15 there was a rustling of the brush in
the wood across the creek directly in front of me. Sure enough, a female Bigfoot
appeared in all her majesty. Her noble black fur gleamed in the setting sun.
She stood with an air of stoicism surveying the forest.
In that moment it struck me why people are fascinated with such a creature.
We love Bigfoot so much because they are so similar to us. They are bipedal
hominids of the mammal kingdom. Furthermore, I could tell by her behavior,
that Bigfoot were noble creatures just like humans. Only these shy animals
were of quiet nobility. In that fleeting moment she seemed to be Empress of
the Woodland. The birds sang her praise, and even the sun bowed to her triumphant-ness.
One thing struck me as odd. Where was her mate? My nose soon
discovered, for a stench fouler than a thousand rotting corpses pierced my
nostrils with the utmost repugnancy. This was followed by the slow rumbling
of earth beneath my body. I remained as still as possible as the hulking behemoth
ambled its way in front of my camcorder. The male Bigfoot was only five yards
or so from my lenses. He looked to be about 7’9” and weigh upwards
to 700 pounds. He was a majestic beast, just like his counterpart. I filmed
the two drinking from the stream for seven minutes or so. When I decided I
had had enough footage to convince all those skeptics back home I began slithering
backwards in a silent fashion so I would not be detected by behemoth’s
residing only a few yards away. It was then I heard the most repulsive squishing
noise under my left leg. Once again my nose noticed what the substance was
before I even looked down to examine myself. My entire lower half was covered
in Bigfoot feces.
May 1st- San Pablo, Mexico
I read about San Pablo on a website, when I was researching El Chupacabra,
the next crypto-zoology beast on this safari. El Chupacabra, or the goatsucker,
is a breed of creature that is rumored to terrorize the livestock of farmers
in South America, Mexico, and Puerto Rico. Reports say that livestock are
found completely drained of their blood with three puncture wounds on their
necks. The perpetrator is rumored to stand roughly 4 feet tall on its powerful
hind legs, which can also be used for pouncing on its prey. The goatsucker
has a mouth full of fangs with a long viper like tongue used to lap up blood.
Witnesses claim it has large red reptilian eyes and its body is slimy and
amphibian like. Some testaments claim El Chupacabra to have scaly appendages
running along its spine, while others deny this fact. One thing is certain
though, Chups is growing in popularity. I saw T-shirts and action figures
of him being peddled in the local five and dime store (Herman http://tlc.discovery.com/tlcpages/chupacabra/chupacabra.html).
San Pablo is small town in Southern Mexico with a population
of only 900. Most of these families are chicken and goat farmers, who have
been recently terrorized by El Chupacabra. Tomorrow afternoon I am going over
to Manuel Rodriguez’s chicken farm to examine the bodies of three dead
goats in hopes to snag a lead in finding the goatsucker.
For now I’m heading to the tavern across the street to get some Mexican
Tequila and some sweet loving.
May 2- San Pablo, Mexico
I woke up naked and with a pounding headache this morning, which usually are
the symptoms of a really fun night. However, something must’ve gone
seriously awry, because my camcorder and my Bigfoot film are MISSING! I met
this really pretty American girl last night, I guess it’s a little suspicious
to find an attractive American girl all by herself in the middle of nowhere
town in Southern Mexico, but I wasn’t asking questions. She was really
digging me, very aggressive, and before I knew it we were back it my room.
Now she’s gone and took my precious 35mm goldmine with her, that little
vixen. Ah well she couldn’t have gotten far. Nobody could leave this
town with out making some sort of racket. I’ll keep my eyes open for
her.
The afternoon was oppressively hot. My face felt as if it were being licked
by the tongue of Beelzebub. I arrived at Manuel’s farm, sweat pouring
down my brow. My nose began to bleed, which tends to happen when the air is
really dry. It’s a good thing the goatsucker wasn’t there to latch
onto my nostrils. I examined the bodies of his dead goats, and sure enough
there were three puncture wounds on the necks of the animals, and they had
been completely drained of blood. As intrigued as I was by the goats, a large
black Cadillac parked a few hundred feet down the road was drawing my attention
away from Manuel. I could tell from where I was standing that the driver of
the car was the same girl I had meet the night before. As hypnotized by this
bizarre coincidence as I was, I managed to hear Manuel babbling and blaming
the United States for El Chupacabra. That seems to be the trend nowadays,
blame the US for all your problems. Apparently, the locals believe El Chupacabra
to be a genetically engineered experiment gone horribly wrong, or an alien
from outer space that NASA let loose (Herman http://tlc.discovery.com/tlcpages/chupacabra/chupacabra.html).
Aliens, who would believe such hogwash? Anyway the genetic stuff I can buy.
I can remember my seminar courses at RU, I had a professor go on and on about
how powerful this technology could be. Things like glow in the dark monkeys
and fish that could breathe out of water were just a few things he commented
on.
But at that moment I cared less abut El Chupacabra, my attention was still
fixated on the girl in the black luxury car. I am getting a strange premonition
about this whole expenditure. It feels like I’m living out an episode
of the X-Files. In case my work is in danger tomorrow morning I am mailing
this journal to my cousin at his college address in Clinton New York.
