Tag Archives: globsters

#14 – The Montauk Monster

In these crazy neon robot future-times we live in, you’d think that the ease of accessing information through the Internet would make it all too simple for the cynics and debunkers to merrily poop all over any and all modern cryptid sightings that come to light. To an extent that’s true, but the beauty of conspiracy theorists in general is that they tend to be less than thorough about researching their sources before gleefully spreading rumours faster than your mum can spread her legs.


All sorts of silly photographs of unknown animals make their way on to the web every year, often lifted and reposted without mention of their origin countless times. The stories at the source of the pictures become blurred and exaggerated through repetition in exactly the same way they always have done – the only thing that’s changed is the sheer speed at which cryptid stories now ping around the world.

Of course, most of these photos are little more than photoshop jobs ranging from careful hoaxes to hilarious extremes like putting the face of an ocelot at the end of a whale’s dick. But every now and then the Internet picks up on a genuine story and sends it worldwide, as it did with the case of the globster that washed up on a beach in Montauk, New York in 2008:



Yeah, enjoy that beauty in all its modern high-def glory.

The Montauk Monster turned out to have a perfectly rational explanation – although the remains disappeared fairly quickly, plenty of zoologists and smart alecs stepped forward to identify them as a partially decomposed raccoon, left bald and missing part of its jaw as a result of spending several days bobbing about in the sea. In fact, the very first article in the local paper put forward this explanation, but not before lightheartedly suggesting that the monster could have been the result of experimentation at the nearby Plum Island animal research facility.

The joke was lost on the internet, which quickly picked up on the suggestion and blindly farted it about so much that in most accounts the experiment theory had entirely replaced the actual explanation by the time most people around the world got a chance to read about the case. Proof, then, of two things; firstly, that the wonderful rumour mill of cryptozoology still functions perfectly well with the introduction of the internet, and secondly that a worrying number of Americans still have a tendency to get depressingly overexcited at the possibility of a dead [ABBREVIATION CENSORED ON THE GROUNDS OF RACIAL SENSITIVITY]

Well that's at least one joke that won't make it in to the live show.

Well that’s at least one joke that won’t make it in to the live show.

Tagged , , , , ,

#1 – Globsters

This one is a bit of a cheat, as a ‘globster’ isn’t a specific cryptid but an umbrella term used to describe any and all of the weird and unidentifiable organic shit that washes up on beaches all over the world. There have been dozens that have caused media storms and freaked out locals who nevertheless generally turn up in droves to poke the rotting bag of meat with sticks before declaring that it must be a dinosaur or some sort of misplaced Godzilla miscarriage:

The St Augustine Monster, Florida 1986

The St Augustine Monster, Florida 1986

The hype surrounding globsters like the St Augustine Monster peaked in the late 19th and early 20th century, when everybody relied on newspapers and logical people couldn’t log online to pick apart the insanity of it all. A good monster story was excellent press and dragged a lot of tourists to the area, so a lot of hacks wildly publicised just about anything globster-related they could get their hands on. And then in 1924 they hit a slam dunk.

“Trunko” was sighted on October 25 off the coast of Margate, South Africa. And this globster wasn’t a rancid sack of flesh stinking up the beach like your mum on holiday in Benidorm – it was apparently alive and kicking, fighting with two killer whales off the coast.


Where’s mah money, bitch?

For three hours witnesses watched Trunko – a fifty-foot, white and hairy ‘whale’ with a long trunk – battle the two orcas, jumping twenty feet out of the sea and thrashing them with its tail before the poor beast eventually conked out and washed up on the beach. The few photographs taken that day remained undiscovered until 2010, when a nerd much like me managed to dig them up:

Trunko Dead

Trunko also wins the award for ‘having a nickname an Australian would usually use for a mate with a big penis’.

Globsters remained a mystery until forensic techniques improved and proper scientists decided to shit all over the mystery of it all. Samples from the Saint Augustine Monster analysed at the Smithsonian turned out to come from the collagen matrix that supports whale blubber. Thus the mystery of Trunko and many others was solved – when a massive animal like a whale dies at sea, the carcass sinks until the bones separate from the flesh, at which point the tough collagen fibres lump into one enormous mass and pop to the surface like a rancid, thirty-tonne cork. The fibres are white and form long strands, making the whole disgusting blob look distinctly hairy and alien. Not that such an appearance puts the killer whales off – they take one look at the festering lump and then like to eat and play volleyball with it, for no other reason than they are the horrifying cannibalistic psychopaths of the sea.

The mystery of a lot of globsters was suddenly solved. They weren’t monsters at all, but simply lumps of congealed collagen left over from a mouldering corpse. Kind of like what we’d get now, if Leslie Ash died in the bath and nobody found her for three weeks.


Why so serious?

Tagged , , , ,