In the winter of 1985, I was bored. I owned a rinky- dink little auto towing business that just squeaked by financially. It was a ton of fun....police calls, repo jobs for GMAC, pulling cars and trucks out the weirdest places....but not much money and a ton of time on my hands.
One day in the local paper, I spied a story about an old fella in the neighborhood who swears he saw a sea serpent. So like I said I'm bored, I have some time on my hands and I think to myself. Why not? If he wants so badly to see a sea monster, why not give him one?
And the game is on. The idea is to build a fake sea monster and place it out into Georgia Strait for all to see. And for a few brief moments, a legend will live. And the old guy will have his beast.
I sketched out some ideas for a low budget design ( having time but no money...you know, the usual )...but I also required something that would temporarily fool onlookers just enough for at least a double take. Having lived next to the ocean my entire life I'd had seen stumps and trees that floated by on the tide that looked like monsters. The whales, sea lions and such that swam by on the surface also fed into the old brain pan for design ideas. Finally after a few piles of paper and pencil scratchings, I had something that I thought was feasible. It called for a few sheets of the cheapest plywood that I could find, a sheet of black poly and a stove pipe.
There's only one place to go for monster building parts, and that's back to the building supplies , that very same one that carried the materials for "The Great Kite Disaster". This is thirteen or fourteen years later mind you, and I actually worked at this particular business when I got out of school. So when I cruised the aisles for monster parts it was easy and stress free this time around. I picked out two sheets of OSB plywood because it was dirt cheap ( 1985 ) , a roll of heavy duty black plastic, six feet of single wall stovepipe and a stovepipe elbow...
I carted everything back home, confident that this was going to be a ton of fun, win lose or draw. Now the center-piece of the plan lay in where I was living at the time. I had rented a house in Davis Bay beside the highway with the ocean just across the road. It sits between Davis Bay Road and Whitaker Road almost perfectly in the middle of the two. It belonged to my friend Phil Makow, who was off on other adventures and not using the house. It was a great old funky place that Phil had renovated in a kind of a rustic manner. The bonus for me on this occasion was the big french doors that opened on to the low deck, which also faced the ocean.
I may have forgot to mention my plan to my live in girlfriend at the time, I seem to remember a bit of a fuss when I started bringing monster parts into the front room through the french doors. ( Hey man ...it's winter...you don't think I'm gonna do this outside do you? )
Moving on now.
I cleared all the unnecessary stuff from the front room floor...chairs, tables, lamps to make room for the construction of a sea monster right in my living room. Now to be fair, when it came time to cut the wood, I did that out on the deck. This was a big step up from the time that I trimmed a Christmas tree with a chainsaw inside the house. ( alcohol was involved and it was really funny at the time ).
The plan went like this. I built a flat oval shaped base out of the plywood and some two by two and miscellaneous odds and ends that were laying around ( Phil, I might owe you a couple two by fours ). On top of this long oval base I constructed a large rib cage, essentially the "hump" of the monster. At one end I fastened the stove pipe at about a forty-five degree angle, creating the framework for the neck. On the end of the stove pipe went the pipe elbow, after I finished bashing it into more of a monster head shape. So now I have twelve foot long monster frame plus the neck sticking out, sitting in my front room.
My girlfriend must have had a lot of errands to do that night because she stayed out for a really long time, which was good in it's own way...no interruptions and more room to work.
The final act of the 'in house" construction phase was to wrap the frame in the black plastic sheeting to form the skin of the beast. This involved lots of staple gun work and black tape when it came time to do the neck and head area. I attached some yellow eyes to the head and just be extra cheeky, I added a set of small horns on the top of the head for more of a sinister look. The last chore was installing an eight foot tail to the back of the beast and tapered the plastic skin off the back off the hump down to the tail. By the time I did this, the monster creation didn't fit in the house anymore, so I had to open the french doors and let it protrude out on to the deck. So far, so good.
Now we are at around midnight. The girlfriend is home and not at all pleased. There is a wood and plastic monster in the front room. The french doors are open to make room for the beast, and the winter cold is blowing in faster than the fireplace can heat it. There are tools, staples, tape and wood and beer bottles all over the floor.
And the dishes aren't done.
Now you would assume at this point in the game that I would have conjured up a plan for how to launch this creation. After all , it has to get off the deck and across the yard. Then somehow go undetected as we cross Highway 101. And then if that wasn't fun enough, get it across the logs on the beach, then launch it out onto the ocean.
Let's just pause our story here now for a minute. Just a short rest break. Just a bit more. Take a big breath and relax, doesn't that feel good?
I had no freaking clue how all this was supposed to happen. I didn't put that part in the equation when I started.
None, no ideas.
So step one, work with what you have. Helpers, check. In that I have my girlfriend and her young daughter to help me lug this thing to the ocean. Crossing the Highway 101 with a sea monster, easy as pie. Do it at four a.m, when there's no traffic and no one else in the neighborhood is up. Launching is a bit more challenging. I have to get it into the water without damaging the plywood and plastic beast, and then somehow get it out from shore a few hundred yards. The answer lay in the green canoe that Phil had left out behind the shed. I would pull the creation out with the canoe and anchor it in place and wait for the sunrise.
What could possibly go wrong?
I laid out the plan to my girlfriend, she was very impressed, so impressed that she couldn't speak right way, obviously dazzled by the brilliance of the whole thing. I fell into bed with a mixture of happy exhaustion and exhilaration.
The alarm went off at four. I had no idea what it was all about. Then it came back to me, I had a mission. It might not have been a mission like the Blues Brothers went on, but pretty close. The very next thing that my sleepy mind noticed was that the weather had changed. The wind had come up, you could hear it in the trees outside. It was raining and blowing and it was February at four a.m.
Crap!
The wind and rain were coming in through the open french doors as I went out on to the deck. Across the road I could hear the waves crashing onto the beach.
Crap!
I hoofed it across the road to go look. The wind was pushing the waves up and they were hitting the beach with regular and punishing force. I saw my window of opportunity slipping away, the benefit of surprise being flushed away. I made my decision right there.
I'm gonna do it!
I woke my girlfriend to tell her the news, she looked out the window and said I was nuts for even considering the idea. Possibly, I agreed, but I still needed help.
Now we have to pause here again just for a second for a different reason this time. Despite the lunacy of the project and the risks, my girlfriend agreed to help. So I just wanted to stop here for a bit to recognize that special moment. Not only that, but we ended up needing her daughter's help to make sure the tail section doesn't get destroyed on the way to the beach.
To continue now.
We start out.
And then immediately stop.
It's too heavy to move, we can't pick it up.
Crap! one more time.
Moving on to desperate measures, we are forced to drag it out of the house and across the yard in the rain and wind. My significant other inquires often about chances of success, given the weather and surprising weight of the monster, because after all, this thing needs to float. We stop at the side of Highway 101 and listen for possible traffic coming around the corner, but the wind is blowing too hard and we can't hear a thing. You would think that that would be a great warning sign .
It wasn't.
My crew dragged the beast across the highway without getting run over and on to the beach. The stress on the delicate framework threatened to destroy the whole thing. It tweaked and groaned and flexed and bent like a wood and plastic rag doll. It was pitch black, raining and blowing.
I am so screwed.
My girlfriends daughter asks if her part is done and can she go back to bed. Yes, is the answer and she scoots back home. The only smart one in the bunch.
I went back to get the green canoe and paddle and scrounged up some rope. I lugged all this to the launch area. Like I said, the ultimate plan was to tow the thing away from shore a fair distance so that the details of the construction weren't obvious, and then throw out an anchor to secure it in place.
Easy.
Easy, except for the the onshore wind and waves and the weight of the monster. I rigged an anchor line to the beast and attached some old chunks of scrap metal for an anchor. ( If those were parts for your truck, Phil, sorry about that ) then I took some of the rope as a tow line from the back of the canoe to the front of the monster. Then it got interesting. The wind was blowing so hard and the waves were so big that I couldn't even get the canoe off the beach. It kept going sideways and tipping, always slamming back into where I started.
This would have been a great time to call the whole thing off.
But no.
I decided that the best thing to do was to wait for a gap in the waves and then set out and get away from shore as quickly as possible.
So I waited.
It didn't look good. The rollers came out of the dark and crashed on to the rocks with relentless regularity. Finally there was a small opening, I aimed the canoe out and pushed off, struggling to get balance. Before I was even settled in the seat I had to start paddling like a maniac to keep from getting blown back to shore. Out I went, soaked to the skin and paddling for all I was worth. I had left the monster/contraption on the beach partly in the water, ready to go. It was getting badly mauled by the waves and my girlfriend was knee deep in the winter ocean, struggling to keep it pointed outwards. The roar of wind and waves kept me from hearing what she was yelling at me, but I'm pretty sure that it was words of encouragement. I got to the end of the tow rope and really started to dig in with the paddle.
The moment of truth, it all comes down to this. I paddle hard. Hunched over, with waves breaking over the bow and spraying over me. It's a freezing cold winter morning, it's four thirty by now, the wind and the rain are pounding against every stroke.
Nothing. No movement. The beast refuses to leave the beach. I pull from the side and dig in hard once more . Nothing. My girlfriend is yelling something at me again, I can't tell if it's good or bad.
I'm screwed.
It won't come off the beach. I make the decision to head back to shore. The wind and the waves push hard from behind, as I get closer to the beach, I can tell it's going to get ugly. The breaking surf and wind rolled the canoe sideways and I crashed into the shore and nearly flipped upside down in the process.
So now I'm soaked and cold, my girlfriend is wet and cold and we have gotten nowhere.
New plan.
The new plan is to get the fake sea serpent pushed out into the surf so that it is floating and therefore easier to tow out. Well, do you remember the wind and waves that just caused my canoe crash? They're still there. Regardless,we're fully committed to being wet and cold, pushing and struggling, falling at times to our knees against the oncoming waves.
I guess that by now, the ocean gods had stopped laughing so hard and decided to give me a small break in the form of a bit of a slow down in the weather action. There was a minor lull, just enough to do what needed doing. Finally the beast was afloat! But who knows for how long? I jumped back into the canoe and paddled hard and furious, trailing the tow rope behind. Out I go into the darkness one more time, determined to have success. The wind blows me off course and I drift down the beach too far. I paddle back into position and start pulling with everything I've got. I can't tell if it's moving or not, its too far back behind me and if I stop to look, I go backwards. Finally it feels right, it's following me, emboldened I try even harder to get it away from the breaking surf and into better conditions. Out we go, but how far do I need to go? If I go too far the anchor line won't be long enough to reach the bottom, if I'm not out far enough, it could get pulled back into the surf and destroyed.
I make a wild ass guess out of desperation and toss the weights overboard, watching the yellow rope go zinging over the side. I have no way of knowing if the anchoring is successful and by this time I don't really care. I turn the green canoe towards shore and head in. Like everything else, easier said than done. The wind and current have pushed me southeast a few hundred yards while I was busy anchoring the monster. I'm too tired to work my way back to my launching point
I crashed the canoe into the beach one more time ( Phil, I think I might still owe you a few bucks for the damage ) I pulled the water filled canoe out of the surf, emptied it out and carried it down the beach. Unknown to me, when I was anchoring the sea serpent, it was so dark and so far from shore that my girlfriend couldn't see me. I had been out there for a while and she assumed that somehow disaster had struck and that I was out there dead or near dead. I could hear her calling out into the darkness with a panicked tone. I called back, but the wind and waves drowned it out. It wasn't until I got up close that she could hear me calling back. It scared the crap out of the poor girl, when there I was standing on the beach instead surfing back in with the canoe. She gave me a good pummeling to show how happy she was that I was safe ( why do they do that? ) We returned to the house too tired and wet to feel victorious. After drying off, I passed out under the covers almost immediately.
I forgot to set an alarm for the morning, but I woke around seven a bit startled. If you've ever lived in a small town, you know that it has it's rhythms of expected sounds and activities. I lived beside the major highway of the Coast, it's a week day morning, it's a bit after seven a.m. and there is not one car or truck going by. What had startled me out of my sleep was the sound of ....
Silence.
I pulled the curtains back and peeked out. There were cars and trucks and buses on the road, but they weren't moving. People were out of their vehicles and heading to the waters edge. The entire highway in both directions had come to a complete standstill.
Holy Shit! I did it, I did it!
That lasted about one second until I went to the french doors and saw several police cars in the traffic and the cops out and about asking questions.
Shit!
Then I came to what senses I had and realized that it was impossible to pin this one on me. I mean really, how would anyone know that I put a decoy sea serpent out there. And another thing, what would the charges be for something like that? Convinced that I was in the clear, I sauntered across to the beach to mingle with the crowds. One more time the ocean gods smiled upon me that day. The wind and rain were gone, it was as calm as could be. A fog bank had rolled in and sat about two hundred yards offshore. And there my friends, just inside the edge of the fog-bank, partially obscured by the mist, was a real live sea monster. People in the crowd were talking excitedly, traffic was blocked by all the parked cars
One person yelled out "it moved , it moved!"
A skeptic called back "it's a stump".
You could tell that people wanted to believe, they badly wanted this to be the day that they saw a sea serpent.
As continuing luck would have it, the stove pipe neck was coming loose and it's horned head had as slight up and down bob to it. The only down side to the illusion was the lack of forward motion, but the waves and moving fog-bank kept everyone guessing. It was great to watch and listen to the excited crowd, I almost wished that it was real, so that they could have their wish.
The next thing that happened was magic, there is no other way to say it. The fog-bank drifted towards shore, pushed by a gentle breeze. It enveloped the sea serpent completely and kept on coming. Onlookers strained to keep sight of the mysterious creature. The fog stayed put and refused to co-operate. After just a few lingering minutes, the fog moved back and started to dissipate against the morning sun. And folks, when the fog bank retreated and thinned out, there was no sea serpent, no stump, nothing.....it was gone! Vanished. Floating stumps just don't vanish. Period. People strained to see, but it was gone. They waited a long as they could for it to resurface, but it didn't.
It was over.
The biggest spectacle of recent history in a small corner of the world. The witnesses all had places to be, work , school and such and started to pile into their cars and trucks to get on with their days affairs.
What had just occurred at the perfect moment, was that all the staples, tape and nails had finally given up. Like a magicians cape, the fog had hidden the break up and subsequent sinking of the Davis Bay sea serpent.
And as if that all wasn't amazing enough. Ten days later, I would be in Hawaii, in a room full of the strongest human beings on the planet
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