In 1982, seven Soviet Navy divers went 164 feet down into the clearest lake on Earth for the kind of routine exercise each of them had done many times before. Down there, all of them felt it: the prickle on the back of the neck that says something is watching. Only four of them survived what came next.
The oldest water on Earth
Lake Baikal, in Siberia, is the largest, deepest and oldest freshwater lake in the world. It's more than a mile deep at 5,387 feet and somewhere between 25 and 30 million years old. At 10,000 years, the Great Lakes are babies by comparison. Baikal holds nearly a quarter of the planet's fresh surface water, which in theory is enough to keep everyone on Earth drinking for a couple of decades. A summer heat wave there peaks in the high 50s Fahrenheit.
It's a place with very little room for error, and it keeps what it takes. In 1920, during the Russian Civil War, roughly 30,000 members of the White Army fled the Red Army across the frozen lake, hauling their families and the tsar's gold. Nothing blocked the Arctic wind howling across the ice. Many froze to death, and their bodies stayed on the ice until late spring. Then the thaw sent the dead and their treasure alike to the bottom.
Fifty meters down
At 50 meters, a diver feels six times the pressure at the surface, and 130 feet is about the limit for anyone who isn't highly trained and properly equipped. Racing back up brings its own danger. Nitrogen dissolved in the blood forms bubbles during a fast ascent and causes the bends, or decompression sickness, which ranges from joint pain to heart attack, stroke and death.
The seven divers came up as fast as they safely could, which probably took six or seven minutes. They reported that they had not been alone. Humanoid figures at least nine feet long had been watching them. The figures were silvery silhouettes with transparent spheres on their heads that looked, the men said, like opened umbrellas held aloft.
Their commanding officer trusted these men, who were experienced, rational and pragmatic. He ordered them back down to capture one of the creatures and bring it to shore.
The swimmers were having none of it. Before the divers could make sense of what was happening, the creatures forcibly propelled all seven of them to the surface, far too fast for that depth. Only four decompression chambers were waiting on shore. Three divers died.
The Soviet Navy could not admit to losing nearly half a crew in a calm freshwater lake, much less to nine-foot humanoids with umbrella heads. The KGB buried the story. Two years later, the government set up a special base in Severobaikalsk, at the lake's northern end. Surely that was a coincidence.
Silver leapers and a sulking dragon
In the 1990s, a local fisherman named Nikolai Kriv was alone on the lake at night, his lines in the water and moonlight on the surface. Suddenly large silver human-shaped creatures broke the surface and leaped out of the water like flying fish. Kriv didn't stick around to ask questions. He yanked up his lines, rowed for shore in terror and never fished Baikal again. Nobody ever gave him a blood alcohol test, but the people who knew him were convinced something had happened to him out there.
The Buryat, a Mongol people of eastern Siberia, tell a much older story. On the very first day the sun rose, a golden chariot came down from the heavens carrying a fire dragon. With his tail, the dragon split the mountains in two, melted the glaciers to fill the gap and covered the land in plants. Then he slipped beneath the lake and came back up every 120 years to receive sacrifices. When the people forgot him, he drowned the land. Then he sank back to the bottom and denied every later tribe the sacred knowledge of the heavens. That's quite a grudge. Well into the 17th century, people were still trying to appease him: entire villages were massacred and their corpses dumped into the lake, and boats full of treasure were set adrift. As recently as the 1980s, echolocation surveys of the lake bottom detected a large moving object about 30 meters long, or more than 98 feet.
Chariots from the stars, godlike beings living under the waves: doesn't that sound oddly modern for an ancient myth?
Sent back down to capture the nine-foot silver beings that had been watching them, seven trained Navy divers were shoved to the surface by the creatures, and three died of the bends. The Soviets never offered an explanation. They just buried the story.
Things that dive into the sea
In July 2019, sensors aboard the USS Omaha, a Navy surveillance ship off San Diego, tracked a six-foot sphere that traveled alongside the ship for about an hour. Then it vanished into the ocean. That makes it a USO, an unidentified submerged object. The US Naval Institute says USOs, not UFOs, pose the greatest hazard to the fleet.
Declassified Russian Navy documents describe a Soviet nuclear submarine in the South Pacific that couldn't shake six unknown objects moving underwater at up to 230 knots. The fastest Soviet sub topped out at 44. When the crew surfaced, the objects followed them up and shot into the sky. Vladimir Azhazha, a former Russian naval officer turned ufologist, says 50% of UFO encounters are connected with oceans and another 15% with lakes.
In July 2023, retired Navy commander David Fravor testified to Congress under oath about a small white tic-tac-shaped object he chased in 2004, "moving very abruptly over the water like a ping-pong ball." That same month, a bipartisan group of senators led by Chuck Schumer introduced legislation defining "non-human intelligence" and referring to "undersea craft."
Seals, fish and fear of the dark
The explanations offered for Baikal are thin. One theory says the divers saw Nerpa seals, the world's only exclusively freshwater seals. Nerpas are steel-gray, "cute as buttons," familiar to everyone in the region and five and a half feet long at the very most. Another theory blames the Baikal oilfish, which grows up to eight feet long and is said to be so translucent you could read a book through it. But nothing about its head looks like a sphere, let alone an umbrella. The third theory says seven Navy divers simply got scared of the dark. None of them explains how seven trained men saw the same thing.
Azhazha's answer to the doubters: "skepticism is the easiest way believe nothing do nothing." Maybe it's best to hope that whatever is down there really is just a harmless little seal.
