Mystery beasts come in
all sizes and shapes, but in the case of globsters they are most famous not
just for their great size but also for their conspicuous lack of any
well-defined shape. Aptly named by American cryptozoologist Ivan T. Sanderson
in the early 1960s, globsters (also dubbed blobsters or blobs) are generally
huge, amorphous masses of decomposing tissue, usually rubbery and covered in
fibrous ‘hair’, lacking any recognisable body parts or skeleton, which are
regularly washed ashore on beaches around the world.
GLOBSTERS IN THE NEWS
The first globster to
attract international attention, and for which Sanderson coined the term
‘globster’, was discovered on the beach north of Tasmania’s Interview River by
three eyewitnesses in August 1960. Measuring about 6
m long, 5.5 m wide, and 1.2
m thick, with an estimated weight of 5-10 tonnes, it was composed of
tendon-like threads attached to a fatty substance that did not readily compose.
Despite its unusual appearance, it was left uninspected on the beach for over
18 months until some on-site tests were finally conducted on 7 March 1962 by
Australia’s CSIRO (Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research
Organisation), which proved inconclusive. A second CSIRO analysis 10 days later
revealed protein and in particular the connective tissue protein collagen to be
primary constituents.
In 1965, another hairy
globster, 9 m long, was found on a
New Zealand beach, and a smaller one, only 2.5
m long, turned up in November 1970 on a Tasmanian beach. More recently, Tasmania hosted yet another
globster stranding when in January 1998
a 6-m, 4-ton specimen drifted ashore on Four Mile Beach. What made this example
particularly interesting was that it sported several sturdy, elongate
projections resembling tentacles.
Four Mile Beach globster
as documented in the globster coverage from my book Mysteries of Planet Earth (© Dr Karl Shuker/Carlton Books/globster photo's
copyright owner unknown to me – please post details if known)
Another tentacled enigma
was the stranded globster spied by tourist Louise Whipps (not Whitts, as
frequently but incorrectly given in media reports) on Benbecula, a small remote
Scottish island in the Outer Hebrides. Until now, Benbecula’s claim to
cryptozoological fame had been the burying here more than 170 years earlier of
a supposed mermaid, but whatever the putrefying entity encountered by Whipps
had once been, it had definitely never been a mermaid. A photo of her sitting
beside the globster provided a useful scale that confirmed her estimation of
its length - a relatively modest 3.5 m.
What made the Benbecula
specimen unexpectedly eyecatching (for a globster!), however, was the series of
tentacular flaps that fringed its otherwise flat, elongate form. Staff at
Newcastle’s Hancock Museum, shown Whipps’s photo, were unable to offer any
positive identification of this globster, and despite the photo later appearing
in countless media reports worldwide, it remained unidentified.
Equally well-publicised
was the so-called Bermuda blob - a grey 2.5-m rubbery specimen discovered
washed up on a beach in Mangrove Bay, Bermuda, by Teddy Tucker during May 1988.
Waves subsequently washed it back out to sea, but not before Tucker had removed
a chunk of its flesh and preserved it in formalin.
Tissues samples were
also obtained from the globster cast up from the depths in August 2001 at St
Bernard’s, Fortune Bay, in Newfoundland, as well as from the most famous
globster of modern times – the enormous gelatinous specimen discovered washed
ashore on 23 June 2003 by a crowd of perplexed coastal villagers from Los
Muermos, southern Chile. Measuring a stupendous 12.5
m long, 5.6 m wide, 1
m high at its tallest point, and estimated to weigh over a tonne, like
most globsters it was wholly shapeless in form, leathery in texture, and grey
and pink in colour, inspiring some news reports to liken it to a squashed elephant!
With such a vast quantity of tissue available, it is heartening to learn that
samples were indeed taken for scientific testing.
GLOBSTERISING TRUNKO
Perhaps the most
sensational globster revelation of modern times, however, came in 2010, when,
following our joint discovery of some remarkable photographs published more
than 80 years earlier but which had hitherto remained entirely unknown to the
cryptozoological world, I and German cryptozoologist Markus Hemmler exclusively
revealed that one of the world's most anomalous and contentious mystery beasts
had in fact been a globster. The cryptid in question was none other than Trunko
– the huge sea monster sporting a long proboscis-like structure and covered in
what eyewitnesses described as snow-white fur that was washed ashore on a South
African beach during the early 1920s, remaining there for several days before
the tide carried it back out to sea, never to be seen again, or identified –
until 2010, that is.
Following a close
examination of the excellent, newly-unearthed close-up photos, however, which
had been snapped by one of Trunko's eyewitnesses and published shortly
afterwards in a magazine article that had, astonishingly, been overlooked
completely by cryptozoologists for more than eight decades afterwards, I could
see beyond any shadow of doubt that what they depicted was an absolutely
typical (indeed, classic) globster. In other words, the Trunko carcase was not
that of some extraordinary maritime elephant whose species still eluded
science, as had been seriously speculated in the past, but was actually
something much more prosaic, the same as all other globsters – whose precise
nature will be revealed a little later in this present ShukerNature blog article.
For full details of
Trunko's long-awaited identification and resolution, click here,
here,
and here,
and also see my definitive chapter-length account in my book Mirabilis (2013).
Clearly, there is no
shortage of globsters on record – but what exactly are they? Resembling no
known species, they have been the subject of heated zoological and
cryptozoological debate for decades – with identities ranging from some wholly
unknown marine species or decomposed whales to rotting shark carcases and, most
intriguing of all, the putrefied remains of gargantuan octopuses, far bigger
than any currently recognised by science.
TENTACLES OF TERROR
The world’s largest
known species of octopus is Enteroctopus dofleini, with a maximum recorded
tentacle (or, technically, arm) span of 7.1
m. Having said that, a freakishly large specimen of Haliphron
atlanticus was dredged up by a fishing trawler off New Zealand’s Chatham
Islands in March 2002 that sported an estimated tentacle span of 10
m (it was an incomplete, badly-damaged individual). However, some truly
gigantic octopuses that would put even the latter to shame have been reported
from a number of disparate locations over the years, suggesting that science
has far from confirmed the upper size limit of these mighty eight-limbed
monsters of the deep.
Hawaii has a
longstanding history of giant octopuses. In 1928, for instance, no less than
six colossal specimens, each with an estimated tentacle span approaching 12.5
m, were allegedly sighted together off Oahu’s coast by Robert Todd Aiken,
who was stationed at Pearl Harbor with the US Navy at that time. A comparable
giant, greyish-brown and said to be the size of a car, with suckers as big as
dinner plates along each of its 9.3-m tentacles, was seen by diver Madison
Rigdon about 200 m off Oahu’s Lahilahi
Peninsula one Sunday morning in 1950. The octopus was being attacked by several
sharks, but succeeded in warding them off, after which it released a huge
quantity of black ink and swiftly sank out of sight.
Amazingly, an even
bigger octopus was reported that very same year, this time spotted by fisherman
Val Ako as it rested 10 m or so underwater on a
reef off Hawaii’s Kona Coast. Ako claimed that its tentacles were around 25
m long, armed with suckers as big as car tyres, and stated that it was
still there half an hour after he had first sighted it.
My giant
octopus trinket box, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; interestingly, whether by
chance or design, some of the octopus's tentacles are bifurcate (© Dr Karl
Shuker)
Gargantuan octopuses
have sometimes been blamed for disturbing or raiding shellfish traps placed on
the seabed. One such case featured Bermudan fisherman Sean Ingham, who lost two
very sizeable prawn traps to an elusive underwater plunderer between 29 August
and 3 September 1984, the second of which had been snapped from its cable at a
depth of 560 m. When laying some more
traps 16 days later, however, he had a terrifyingly close encounter with his
foe, when without warning something grabbed hold of his boat from below, and
effortlessly dragged it along for more than half a kilometre before finally
releasing it again. Moreover, the vessel’s sonar equipment revealed that the
mysterious underwater boatnapper had been 15.5
m high and pyramidal in shape, i.e. the typical shape of an octopus, but
one of gigantic proportions.
On Christmas Eve 1989,
a massive octopus - “as huge as an imported cow”, according to one eyewitness,
Agapito Caballero - allegedly rose to the surface and attacked a motorised
canoe transporting a number of people in waters off the southern Philippines.
Twelve survivors were rescued, clinging onto their overturned canoe, by some
fishermen on Christmas Day. The survivors claimed that once the octopus had
capsized the canoe by grabbing its outriggers, it had simply sunk back beneath
the waters, without attempting to harm any of their company.
Famous Roman naturalist
Pliny the Elder (23-79 AD) claimed that a monstrous octopus with a barrel-sized
head and tentacles 9 m long would come ashore
and raid fish ponds in Rocadillo, Spain (octopuses are indeed known to leave
water and cross land if necessary to capture prey). And as far back as
classical times, giant octopuses have been reported from the Mediterranean.
Indeed, the mythical many-armed, hole-dwelling sea monster Scylla has been
claimed by some researchers to have been inspired by sightings of huge
octopuses in Italian waters.
During his own
investigations of reputed giant octopuses, veteran American marine biologist
and amateur cryptozoologist Dr Forrest Wood collected several reports from the
Bahamian island of Andros, whose blue holes (vertical underwater caves) are
claimed by locals to be frequented by a monster known as the lusca, equipped
with “hairy hands” that drag down any unwary human divers or bathers. Certain octopuses,
known as cirrate octopuses, are characterised by tentacles bearing hair-like
projections (cirri). Consequently, some cryptozoologists have suggested that
the lusca may be an unknown species of giant cirrate octopus.
Supporting a link
between lusca and giant octopus is a report given to Wood on Andros by an
island inspector, who claimed that during a fishing trip off the island with
his father, in waters approximately 180
m deep, their line seemed to snag on the sea bottom. When they looked
down through the transparent water, however, they were aghast to see that in
reality, the line had hooked an enormous octopus, which abruptly released the
line and gripped the bottom of their boat instead! Fortunately, however, it
soon let go, and sank down far below until it vanished from view.
Clearly, then, there is
ample circumstantial evidence on file to suggest the existence of
mega-octopuses in various expanses of water around the world – but what about
globsters? Do they genuinely constitute physical evidence for these creatures’
existence?
For this and other
startling globster revelations, click here to check out Part 2 of this ShukerNature blog
article.
Captain
Nemo viewing a giant octopus – an illustration from the classic Jules Verne
novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (public domain)
Great article! What do you think about the carcass that was found only a week ago on a Russian beach? No one can specifically say what it is. It's quite disturbing because there is fur located on the carcass. What kind of sea creature has fur on its body??
ReplyDeleteThanks Ashley, glad you liked it - don't forget to check out Part 2 too. Re the Russian carcase: it was a young Baird's beaked whale, no question whatsoever. This species is known to exist in these waters, and the carcase's appearance, albeit decomposed, fits this species. As for the apparent fur, in reality this consists of exposed connective-tissue fibres, revealed during the decomposition process.
DeleteI just spotted this in an article in Australian Geographic: "In 1989 the Nomenclature Board of Tasmania named a creek close to where the globster was found Monster Creek, ensuring the location of the world’s first globster is forever remembered." The first globster to be named as such, anyway. :)
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