In the spring of 1921, two experienced anglers from New York were fishing off Soldier Key, a few miles south of Miami, when they spotted a school of sharks thrashing around something enormous. Elsner Garretson and Charles Moller figured it was a dead whale and motored closer. What they towed back to the dock was a head bone 15 feet long, seven feet wide and just over three tons, and nobody in Miami could say what it had belonged to.
When mapmakers of old reached the edge of the known world, they had four words for the open sea: "Here, there be monsters." A century of sailors, scientists and naval officers set out to learn whether the mapmakers had it right.
A skull on the Miami dock
It took ten men and heavy lifting equipment to get the bone onto the dock. The sharks had stripped away the flesh on the trip in. Scientists guessed it came from a giant squid, which can't be right, since squid have no bones. A sperm whale is the likelier answer. A mature male averages 52 feet, about a third of it head, and one had been found 68 years earlier with a head 20 feet long. Sperm whales are the largest toothed predators on the planet, and they usually win a fight with a great white. If that's what the sharks were eating, the two fishermen snatched away their one chance to dine on their mortal enemy.
People back then had no trouble believing in a sea monster, though. They knew even less about the ocean than we do, and we don't know much. Oceans cover about 70 percent of the planet, and only about 20 percent of the seafloor has been mapped. Crushing pressure, cold and total darkness guard the rest. In June 2023, the privately owned submersible Titan imploded on its way down to the wreck of the Titanic, killing all five men aboard, one of them a teenager. In 2019, explorer Victor Vescovo made it almost seven miles down to the Challenger Deep, the deepest known spot on the seabed. He found three unknown species and a plastic bag, which is as tragically poetic as it is gross.
Officers who knew a seal from a serpent
Sea serpent sightings go back to Aristotle, who claimed to have seen one himself. In 1826, Captain Henry Holdredge of the ship Silas Richards and six passengers watched a dull black creature about 60 feet long glide past with its head four feet above the water for eight minutes. All seven signed a sworn statement. In August 1848, officers of the HMS Daedalus near the Cape of Good Hope saw something roughly 100 feet long racing along at an estimated 15 miles an hour. Months later, officers on the HMS Plumper saw an 80-foot black something with a sharply pointed head. When skeptics suggested seals or whales, the Royal Navy men were outraged, as politely as only British officers can be.
These were no gullible rubes. In 1856, when a Western explorer first saw gorillas in the wild and called them monsters of the jungle, people mocked him, because gorillas were supposed to be a myth. The platypus, a venomous, egg-laying mammal with no stomach, was once called "God's joke."
In April 1922, fishermen eight miles off Long Beach, California, fought for hours to land a 17-foot, 1,500-pound fish that appeared to have an extra set of ribs in its mouth. Experts who knew the basking shark perfectly well agreed it was an unknown species. A few years later, something 37 feet long, with the head of a duck and the body of a snake, washed up in Santa Cruz, and the stench drove even the most curious off the beach.
For centuries, the sea serpent sightings didn't come from cranks. They came from Royal Navy officers, veteran fishermen and the captain who saved the Titanic's survivors. With about 80 percent of the ocean still unexplored, nobody can prove them wrong.
Pigs, harpoons and a radium sun
People wanted proof. In 1925, millionaire Harry Payne Bingham sailed his yacht, the Pawnee, loaded with harpoons, rifles and a speedboat meant for "leaping away from an enraged Leviathan." Aboard was Charles Thompson of Miami, who in 1912 had towed in a toothless, boneless 38-foot giant the Smithsonian named Rhineodon typus, and preachers declared he'd proved the story of Jonah and the whale. Bingham wanted one of his own. He came home with no Rhineodon typus and went back to the golf course.
William Beebe of the New York Zoological Society took a steamship fitted with aquarium tanks to the Sargasso Sea, the stretch of Atlantic matted with brown seaweed that sailors believed hid a graveyard of shipwrecks. Beebe, who never seemed to take off his pith helmet, suspected giant octopuses were behind many serpent stories. The remains of one with a 27-foot arm had already turned up.
Then there was Dr. William H. Ballew, who announced: "The ocean in brief is one gigantic radium bathtub." Radium, he said, made whales grow huge and sharks hard to kill.
Prince Albert I of Monaco, considered the father of oceanography, paid for his research with casino profits. He went hunting the Great Sea Serpent off Norway, where a Norwegian crew had shot at a 100-foot creature that blew two 50-foot jets of water from its nostrils. A Russian captain named Ostrovsky claimed one of his cannonballs bounced right off another. The prince's yacht, the Princess Alice II, carried miles of steel cable, a hook weighing more than a ton, and a hold stuffed with fattened pigs, since sea serpents were supposedly crazy about pork. How anyone knew that, when no sea serpent had ever been caught, is anyone's guess. He searched for a year and caught nothing.
The captain of the Carpathia
Five years before he raced the Carpathia to the sinking Titanic and saved 713 people, Captain Arthur Henry Rostron spotted what he took for a tree trunk off the coast of Ireland. "I saw that the thing was alive," he said. Its head rose about eight feet out of the water, darting side to side "such as you see a blackbird make when hunting for worms on the lawn." When he docked in Liverpool, the town was buzzing about a man found drifting in a rowboat in the Bristol Channel, who said he'd lost both oars and his boat hook fighting a sea monster. His description matched Rostron's exactly.
The sightings never stopped. Nova Scotia has logged more than 31 of one kind of sea serpent over 140 years, the most recent in 2007. Now the talk is of USOs, unidentified submerged objects. Retired U.S. Navy Admiral Tim Gallaudet points to a 2019 video, verified by the Pentagon, of an object flying around the USS Omaha and then dropping into the waves. He warned that it "jeopardizes US maritime security, which is already weakened by a relative ignorance about the global ocean." Maybe it's a surviving dinosaur, an octopus, or something nobody has a name for. Nobody knows.
