A few years back, during late summer, I was kayaking around the shoreline of Lake Ronkonkoma. The day couldn’t be nicer with full sun and dry air.
While heading east along the northern shoreline, just shy of the northeast corner of the lake, In noticed a large black bird perched atop of a branch that was sticking straight up out of the water. As I approached, the bird took off for higher limbs of a neighboring tree along the shoreline. In retrospect, that creepy bird would perfectly reflect what was about to happen with its jet-black feathers, suspiciously bent neck, beady eyes, and its folded upright wings that resembled more so an old man’s shoulders. I continued paddling toward the limb to get a closer look. It just seemed too odd to have a tree limb growing straight up out of the water at some 65 feet off shore. Unfortunately, I got too close and paddled straight over the limb forcing it to completely submerge.
Suddenly, the stern (rear) of the kayak rose out of the water by at least 12 inches while the bow (front) submerged plunging downward by the same. That unnatural positioning held as a frozen moment in time. I could hear the cracking of the fiberglass hull beneath my body. The roaring sounds of water crashing, cascading and churning down off of some unknown object seemed endless. The howling sound was eerily similar to a screaming banshee. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, the stern was dropped back down into the water. Simultaneously, the boat was tossed forward at no less than the speed of light. I’m sure the intensity of that plunge shook the leaves off nearby trees. Not to mention, the feathers off that creepy old bird. I fought gallantly to keep the boat from tipping while cruising east for about 50 feet. I was deathly afraid to turn about for a closer look, but did so anyway while making a very wide and cautiously slow circular turn.
I could only wonder if I would ever live to tell the story of this wild lake creature or become yet another silly tail of lake folklore. Regardless, I obviously angered something below the surface. This clearly was no ordinary happening. Upon further inspection of the area, I found no sign of any major event that just occurred, except for a large mass of dirty, smelly foam.
Once again, I could see that odd branch protruding straight up from the water as if nothing had ever happened. Then, I thought I noticed what looked like broken undergrowth below the boat and uprooted bent trees leading away from the lake. The creature seemed to have disappeared faster than a donut at a family picnic.
So what was it? What exactly happened? No hoax need apply here. This was too horrific an event for such a simple and logical explanation. No way. Remember, this monster was big enough to swallow the entire stern of the boat. It had to be one of those creatures with a long neck with multiple humps displaying its tail by the moonlight. That’s right, multiple humps. This giant was enormous in size and mass with
fearsome strength and glowing eyes. Much like a sea serpent or a six headed dragon. Just like a monster fish with webbed feet or perhaps an oversized ape-like man with gills and brownish hair. Nonetheless, the creature required broad shoulders to be able to lift the rear section of the kayak and hold it there for so long. Its breath had an odor of rotten eggs which had mosquitos scrambling for cover. The monster made howls and grunts like a bear or a prehistoric ape. It was the creature’s instinct that lead it to bolt for safer places. Perhaps into the lake’s depth as found in the southeast corner or far up into the foothills of Raynor Park to the East. Like me, it was just struggling to survive the event. And I’m sure there is some biological basis to support the monster’s existence. It must be out there. No need for anecdotal evidence such as blurry photos or silly unreliable military sonar. This sighting was verifiable.
My God, could Old Soggy Bottom be part Loch Ness or part Sasquatch? Bigfoot and Nessie combined? How could it possibly live in a world of complete confusion and constant hypocrisy? Could Soggy be part-fish, part-beast, trying to survive in two worlds?
You know, then again, perhaps it was just an otter.
