WATCHER OF THE SKIES: black grouse, woodcock, tawny owl

As regular CFZ-watchers will know, for some time
Corinna has been doing a column for Animals & Men
and a regular segmenton On The Track... about
out-of-place birds, rare vagrants, and basically all
things feathery and Fortean.

Because we live in strange times, there are more and
more bird stories that come her way, so she has now moved
onto the main CFZ bloggo with a new column with
the same name as her aforementioned ones...

Leks have a look at black grouse numbers rise inWales

Welsh black grouse (Tetrao tetrix) numbers are on therise. However, this increase is only tobe found on those areas managed by the RSBP. The black grouse is one of the UK’s most endangered birds, once a commonsight on grass and moorland all over the country. Their numbers fell dramatically, there being25,000 breeding pairs in 1970 and just 5,000 by 2005, presumably due to theencroachment of housing into the countryside and more intensive farmingmethods. But in Wales the bird’spopulation may have trebled over the last 15 years.

Picture: RSPB

RSPB Cymru's head of biodiversity Stephen Bladwell said: "Thebreeding season is between mid-March and mid-May.

"During those times the male birds put on elaborate courting ritualscalled leks, where they puff out their throats and tails, make distinctivecalls and dance to attract females."

"That obviously makes them much easier to count. Whilst the hensusually remain camouflaged, we can count the cocks, and estimate the overallpopulation from that."

"We've been successful in working with farmers and other agenciesto help create the sort of environments where they thrive - moorland wildernessareas with supplies of their favourite foods, fresh heather shoots and varioussmall berries."

"We've also had a couple of dry Junes, which is essential inhelping to reduce chick mortality and introduce new blood into the followingyear's breeding pool."

But he warned that the black grouse is still far from safe.

In Scotland the black grouse population has also rallied, with someexperts now calling for Welsh and Scottish birds to be cross-bred in order tobroaden the gene pool and prevent localised diseases and conditions

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-17494491

‘Satnav’ system to track the dwindling woodcockpopulations

The woodcock (Scolopax rusticola) isScotland’s most secretive bird and its numbers fell by around 86% between 1970and 2007. The wader migrates to northern Europe and Russia to breed each yearand this year The Game & Wildlife Conservation Trust is going to usesatellite technology to follow 12 woodcocks on their migration.

However, it doeshave to be noted that the woodcock can be hunted in Scotland, apart from Sundaysand Christmas Day that is. The samerules apply for England and Wales too apparently.

“Perhaps the most immediate result of thisproject would be a dialogue in Europe about bag limits and sustainability inshooting,” said Dr Andrew Hoodless of the Game & Wildlife ConservationTrust. “We’re not advocating voluntary bans or some sort of restriction onhunting at this stage but it’s something we may look at in the future.”

There is currentlyno limit on the number of woodcocks that can be hunted in the UK, although somelimits exist in other European countries including France, Italy and Portugal.Between three and four million woodcocks are hunted each year across Europe.

Photo: Wikipedia

Woodcocks aresecretive birds that are rarely spotted in the wild. Hoodless said: “I amconvinced that by following our 12 satellite tagged birds we will soon havesome revealing insights into the migration strategies of woodcocks acrossEurope.

“This informationis essential for sound conservation management of the species as well as beingof fascination to us all.”

He added that theproject is hoping to expand the number of birds it monitors over the next year.

“We are looking totag a further 20 woodcocks over the next two winters to ensure a scientificallyvalid analysis,” Hoodless said. “Woodcocks generally live for three to fouryears so we’re hoping that with some of the birds we will be able to followthem for several seasons and watch their repeated migratory patterns.”

To follow the birdson their journeys log on to www.woodcockwatch.com

http://www.scotsman.com/news/dwindling-woodcock-populations-to-be-tracked-by-new-online-satnav-system-1-2194854

Tawnyowls

According to the South Nottinghamshire Ringing Groupblogspot, a tawny owl was found sitting on four eggs on 10^th January this year in thecounty! And it is very unusual to find these birds breeding that early in theyear. You can read more about thisdiscovery at: http://southnottsringinggroup.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/very-early-tawny-owl.html

OLL LEWIS: The Cardiff Winch Serpent

Not many capital cities can lay claim to have been the home of a cryptid. On occasion fortean zoology and related subjects will crop up in the founding myths of the great cities of the world (such as Rome's origin myth where it's founder and his brother was raised by a wolf) on occasion or as protectors of cities and countries; for example, the head of Brân the giant protecting Britain from invaders. But one cryptid said to have made its home in the Welsh capital of Cardiff was a bit different.

The Cardiff Winch Serpent had nothing whatsoever to do with the city's founding and was the certainly not a protector of its people. The Great Snake was said to have made its home in the River Taff and would coil and uncoil its gargantuan body underwater to create a treacherous whirlpool, drawing unsuspecting swimmers and boats into its watery larder to feast upon. According to some accounts the serpent was aided and abetted in this endeavour by a beautiful woman. In the words of the folklorist Marie Trevelyan:

“An old woman who was fond of telling nursery stories related to her by her grandmother said that the Taff whirlpool was frequented by a lovely lady, who lured people whilst bathing. Youths were known to swim or row towards her, attracted by her beauty. They were then sucked into the vortex, and their bodies could never be found, said the narrator, "and it is fathomless. It reaches from the Taff to the mouth of perdition, where Satan waits for the souls who are beguiled by the lovely lady." She said the lady was the devil in disguise. "It is a dreadful winch," in Wales the word "winch" is always associated with water.”

It is up for debate who the originators of this tale were; it may well have been concerned parents wanting to keep their children from swimming in treacherous waters as with other tales of Winch Serpents from Wales such as in the Great Gutter by the Nash Sands or the Kenfig Pool near Porthcawl. But the additional detail in this case of swimmers being lured out by a good-looking moist lass suggests it may have been intended to ward off a slightly older audience in this case. It is interesting to note that the Winch Serpent was said to frequent an area of the Taff a little way to the south of the pirate dock.* Pirates attempting to scare people away from their section of the Taff could be a plausible source of the stories.

If you want to visit the approximate site of the Winch Serpent's whirlpool for yourself it is quite easy to do. Simply get off the train at Cardiff Central station and head in the direction of the Millennium Stadium. Because this part of the Taff was filled in and re-routed to drain the marshes the station was to be built on you'll have to walk up the non-Taff side of the stadium. Eventually, after passing the old customs house, you'll come to a junction by a multi-story carpark. As you stand near the gates of the stadium here you will be standing roughly where the pool was.


*(interesting fact while I think of it: you know the generic pirate accent you hear in films? That was actually based on a really bad amalgamation of both a Cardiff and Bristol accent by the first actor to play Long John Silver in a talkie version of Treasure Island. These days, however, few people even know that Cardiff had at one time the largest pirate dock in Europe so good the pirates were at bribing and threatening the authorities)

OLL LEWIS: Yesterday's News Today

http://cryptozoologynews.blogspot.com/

On this day in 1976 surrealist comedian Ross Noble was born. Here’s a clip of him talking about simulacra and death portants:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtVG0BxsJpk&feature=related

A big thank you to Corinna for holding the YNT fort while I was back in the land of my fathers treating the fine city of Cardiff and the “charming-in-its-own-special-way” seaside resort of Barry Island to my presence (more of which in a future non-YNT blog). So what’s occurring with the news today?

Meet the alligator who turned blue
Caterpillar invasion turns cemetery into horror film set

If there are this many caterpillars around it could have ‘grave’ consequences for the local flora…

LINDSAY SELBY: Barmouth sea serpent?

There has been a history of sea monsters in some areas of Wales; in particular the Menai Straits Barmouth area and further up the coast in North Wales.


In 1805 in the Menai Straits, A ship reported it had been attacked by a sea serpent, which wrapped itself around the ships mast until the crew attacked it and it fell into the sea. They claimed it followed the vessel for two more days before giving up.

In 1882 another sighting according to this letter from Nature Magazine:


About three P.M. on Sunday, September 3, 1882, a party of gentlemen and ladies were standing at the northern extremity of Llandudno pier, looking towards the open sea, when an unusual object was observed in the water near to the Little Orme's Head, travelling rapidly westwards towards the Great Orme. It appeared to be just outside the mouth of the bay, and would therefore be about a mile distant from the observers. It was watched for about two minutes, and in that interval it traversed about half the width of the bay, and then suddenly disappeared. The bay is two miles wide, and therefore the object, whatever it was, must have travelled at the rate of thirty miles an hour. It is estimated to have been fully as long as a large steamer, say two hundred feet; the rapidity of its motion was particularly remarked as being greater than that of any ordinary vessel. The colour appeared to be black, and the motion either corkscrew-like or snake-like, with vertical undulations. Three of the observers have since made sketches from memory, quite independently, of the impression left on their minds, and on comparing these sketches, which slightly varied, they have agreed to sanction the accompanying outline as representing as nearly as possible the object which they saw. The party consisted of W. Barfoot, J.P., of Leicester, F. J. Marlow, solicitor, of Manchester, Mrs. Marlow, and several others. They discard the theories of birds or porpoises as not accounting for this particular phenomenon.
F. T. MOTT.
Birstall Hill, Leicester, January 16th, 1883.

The Mawddach Estuary at Barmouth has been the place of a few sightings in the last 100 years. In “Mysterious Wales” by Chris Barber (Blorenge Books June 1999) a local woman claimed to have found four large footprints in the sand, described as being ‘as big as an elephant’s’. In 1937 a crocodile like animal was witnessed by a Harlech man as it walked along the river bank

Then in March 1975 six schoolgirls described a creature they encountered on Barmouth beach. ‘It had a long neck and a square face and a long tail with a flipper at the back and its skin was black and patchy’.. `It was like a dinosaur,'' said one of the girls. `The monster was about 10 feet long, with a long tail, long neck and huge green eyes. It walked towards the sea and entered the water.'' Its green eyes peered at them before sinking beneath the waves. The girls fled in terror.

(N.B. Sounds like the classic long necked pinniped description to me, but could just have been an ordinary large member of the seal family. They can appear to have long necks if they stretch it out).
It is not the only strangeness in that area though:

In September 1922 John Morris and William James saw an object fall into the ocean off Barmouth shore , so slowly that it was thought to be a plane. A boat was sent out, but nothing was found. (Magonia #45, Fort 639)

It is odd how places that report one phenomenon, such as sea serpents, also seem to have others occurring. Does the area attract strange things or does it just attract the sort of people who see strange things….one to ponder over.

OLL LEWIS SENT THIS

Oll sent down this video of people in the Welsh hills doing strange things with sheep. I don't know how much of this is real, but it is pretty damn extraordinary. There is only one problem. According to YouTube, eight and a half million people have seen this video since it was posted in March, so the odds are that some - at least - of the bloggo readership have already seen it....

TRISTAN SANDERSON-DUCKETT: There's something in the attic!

Are you seeing a pattern developing here: long hair; boyish good looks? And we are not just talking about Jon. We have Max; Dave has grown his hair; and now Tristan, who writes: "Hello, I'm a fifteen-year-old animal and rock freak, that loves being outoors, observing nature! I'm home-educated so I have plenty of time to do stuff that most people wouldn't consider 'education,' even though I've learnt far more from being outdoors and thinking for myself (instead of being cooped up in a classroom, being taught instead of learning). I hope one day to be finding new beasties and conserving known ones so I thought it might be a good idea to blog for the CFZ!" With Jon's wild hair and beard the CFZ is rapidly beginning to resemble a fortean version of the Manson Family. Fleur as 'Squeaky', anyone? Welcome aboard Tristan....


This week, we’re back talking about Wales; a great place; no wonder it left such an impression on me. This time, unlike the blog about the red sparrows (see 14th June), I’m not entirely sure what the beastie was. I’m not even sure if it’s crypto, but it’s worth mentioning, as it might be of interest – but, in fact, I don’t have a clue what it was.

I think it was 2006 or 2005 when I first noticed something was 'living' in the attic (yes, I know this sounds like a children's ghost story, but it did happen). At first I suspected it was a rat or a squirrel so I put some food out to catch a glimpse, or at least find out whether it was carnivore, omnivore, or herbivore. All I found out was it didn't like peanuts (not a squirrel or rat then) but it loved bread.

At first, apart from the food disappearing, the only sign of life was the odd scuttle or shuffle. One night I had a friend staying over and as the weather wasn't the best for camping (plus the 'friend' was quite frankly a wuss when it came to the whole outdoors dark thing), we were sleeping in the living room. The whateveritwas obviously got braver, and started banging around downstairs, almost in the room we were in. Needless to say, I was scared (having a rather more active imagination then, than now) and from then on the beastie stayed braver, one night it even sounded as if it was trying to unlock the door from the attic.

If at this point you think this is fanciful, it does sound so – but it’s not nice having an unknown animal in your house. So if anybody has any idea what this was, please leave a comment; it would be most helpful.

And now to the photos I promised last week. I’ve had no success with the fox, but I’m sure you all know what one looks like! I found a suitable trout to photograph that show the variations, so look closely and you hopefully will see the dark mark on the dorsal fin, plus the zigzag-type dotting. If you don’t, just say, and I'll try to get a better photo. Enjoy....

GWILYM GAMES: The Strange Case of the Mutant Toadman of Accrington

It is always a pleasure to introduce you to a Guest Blogger. Gwilym James first impacted onto the cryptoverse (hey, I think I invented a new term there, and if something as ungainly as `blogosphere` can become international parlance, then I am sure that `cryptoverse` can become the accepted term for the er... cryptoo, universey place thingy) when he became involved in a hunt for a crocodile in Swansea last year...

Recently Nick Harling of Blackburn Museum while searching through the Blackburn Mail found some interesting Fortean articles which were posted on the CFZ blog as “STRANGE STORIES FROM BLACKBURN”

http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://forteanzoology.blogspot.com/2009/03/hello-jon-i-enjoy-your-blog-immensely.html

on March 20, 2009. It was the article for November 6th 1793 which caught my eye describing a very bizarre case.

What was this weird sounding amphibious man-beast? All sorts of strange humanoids have been reported in Britain over the years from Owl-man to the mysterious Man-monkey of Ranton. Could this be another addition to their ranks? Should I dash off to Accrington to see if this horror still lurked there? In Lancashire strange things still lurk the CFZ investigated reports in 2002 of a “lake monster” in Martin Mere in Ormskirk attacking swans, a beast which was probably a large catfish. Jon discusses this case and the local folklore concerning a mermaid in the area in his book the Monster of the Mere.

I thought more research was needed however into the history of the area before getting too excited. My investigations revealed that the area in which this “Toadman” was supposedly seen was at the time the cradle of the industrial revolution in Lancashire, a revolution which later spread across Britain and from there to the world, and an important part was played by Sir Robert Peel senior, (1750 – 1830), the father of the famous Prime Minister Sir Robert Peel. Near Accrington is Stanhill where the inventor of the Spinning Jenny, James Hargreaves lived, and his device was used in Robert Peel’s Cotton Mill at Brookside, Oswaldtwistle. In 1768 the mill was attacked by angry home based cotton workers who thought Peel’s use of spinning jennies in large quantities would destroy their livelihood. Eventually Peel moved away from Brookside by 1779, and he had already set up another works in 1772 which involved the printing and dying of calico and these were the printing works at Church Bank, Oswaldtwistle, mentioned in the article. This involved various chemicals which undoubtedly would be disposed of in nearby water courses such as the River Hyndburn, which is the river which the "Toadman" would have lurked. Peel’s works were part of the expansion of cloth industry and made the family very wealthy leading to Peel and his son both becoming MPs . One result of this industrial expansion and chemical experimentation was the work of John Mercer from nearby Great Harwood (1791–1866), a pioneering chemist who discovered Antimony orange and the mercerisation process and made many discoveries in dying and printing fabric. Entirely self taught, Mercer never went to school, he later became a member of the Royal Society because of his pioneering role in industrial chemicals at Oakenshaw. As industry expanded in the area the Liverpool to Leeds Canal passed nearby to take finished cloth to port. In the nineteenth century several chemical works were established near the canal to supply textile printers, with one building formerly run by William Blythe remaining today.

When I learned that the beast was seen near the print works at Church-bank and there was much experimentation with chemicals in the area my mind boggled inspiring some strange theories. As everyone knows, well everyone who watches the right B-movies (see the excellent Korean film The Host for a prime example], the main problem with spilling with industrial chemicals and waste is that the inevitable result is gruesome mutated people or animals of one kind or another with a grudge against humanity. Was the toad-man actually a former dye worker who had fallen into a vat and had been horribly disfigured and driven mad? Did the Peelers or police force founded by Sir Robert Peel conspire to hide the depredations of the monster on innocent millworkers? Or was it a prehistoric survival possibly from the Silurian period perhaps disturbed by the quarrying and mining also found in the area? This mining at led to the Aspen Coke Ovens, at Oswaldtwistle, which are curiously known as the Fairy Caves, which still stand. Then there is the ancient folklore of Lancashire which includes numerous hostile water monsters such as Jenny Greentooth in the Ribble, the water-devils of the River Lune or the Mermaid of Martin Mere.

More careful investigation however revealed sadly that the tempting idea that the toadbeast was the hideous spawn of the Industrial Revolution was more to do with my imagination than reality. The clue comes from the curious interest of the creature in alcoholic beverages, rather than the food usually favoured by such monsters as brains, blood or spinal fluid. In fact what might seem to be a report of a cryptozoological oddity is I believe in this case more to do with local political intrigue and industrial development. As mentioned earlier the Liverpool to Leeds Canal eventually was built near this area. I discovered in my research that the canal’s route caused some controversy at the time of the article:

“As the Leeds and Liverpool Canal winds its tortuous way through East Lancashire it seems to carefully avoid Accrington. However, when the canal’s route through East Lancashire was planned in 1793, it was to continue up the valley of the Hydburn, crossing it at a point close to the old Grammar School on Blackburn Road. The proposed Haslingden Canal was to join it here, creating a waterway link with Bury and Manchester. Had this happened there would have been a wharf near the junction where goods to and from the town could have been handled.

Instead the route was altered. The Peel family asked the canal company to avoid crossing the Hyndburn above their textile print works at Peel Bank. At that time it was one of the largest factories in the world and used the river's waters during the printing process. Building the embankment for the canal to cross the Hyndburn would have interrupted this supply and caused production problems. Instead, the canal was built downstream, rejoining the original line at a right angle junction at Church. Much of the land for the canal deviation had to be purchased from the Petre family of Dunkenhalgh. Although they were quite happy for the canal to be built, they requested that the towpath was made on the side of the canal away from their house and lands. They hoped that this would prevent poachers from gaining easy access to their estate!” [1]

So it is seems likely that as well as a reference to the Peels that the Dunken Park reference in the article is an allusion to the house and estate of Dunkenhalgh Park in nearby Clayton-le-Moors which was owned by the Petre family. The controversy over the canal route would have been at its height in 1793 whether it ran near the Peel’s Print works or through lands owned by Lord Petre. Thus I believe that the toad-man is in fact a satirical reference to one of the canal promoters possibly to one of the Peels or Petres, describing him as a subhuman amphibious beast, a suitable form in the circumstances of discussing a canal, as well as playing subtly on an established reputation for indulgence in strong drink in the person referred to. The fact it was seen wallowing in the “mill dam at Accrington” may be another clue but there were already a number of cotton mills in Accrington and I am uncertain to what it refers to. Some local historian could probably work out the toad-man’s identity with more certainty. It is another case where a playful newspaper article has created a false mystery as in the Angel of Mons or the exaggerated mystery attached to Spring Heeled Jack, seen in Lancashire amongst other places, as a result of later Victorian newspaper sensationalism. It is another example of how the Fortean researcher should be careful to investigate the history of reports before leaping to outrageous ideas no matter how tempting.

Yet there is another aspect to the case which adds to its intrigue for there is a gruesome side to the history of the Petre family. Early in the eighteenth century supposedly a visitor to Dunkenhalgh Park had an affair with the Petre’s French governess, Lucette. He heartlessly ruined her, made her pregnant and then abandoned her. In despair the governess drowned herself in the Hyndburn. Her sodden ghost or boggart still haunts Dunkenhalgh Park and on the witching hour of midnight on Christmas Eve it supposedly can be seen climbing from the river near the bridge where she leapt to her death and then laboriously moves towards the house. So if the newspaper article is aimed at the Petre family then it seems possible that the toad-beast is perhaps also an obscure reference to a local scandal which produced a legend of an aquatic boggart.

Nick Harling also found a reference in the paper from 1794 to a strange creature found in Hooton Roberts in Yorkshire, a fourteen legged lion headed thing which is either an even more arcane reference or a genuine cyptozoological oddity.

1 - The History of the Leeds-Liverpool Canal . http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.cottontown.org/page.cfm?pageid=2594

OLL LEWIS: The big hairy man of Nant Gwynant

Oll Lewis, the Welsh dude who lives in my spare bedroom, who also happens to be the CFZ ecologist, and Richard's assistant as far as looking after the CFZ menagerie is concerned, is rapidly becoming one of the most popular bloggers on the network.

In the Americas the most searched for cryptid is Bigfoot and its no surprise that BHMs are among the most sighted cryptids there as a result. However in the UK things are quite different, man beasts are hardly ever seen here and if they are they usually end up being attributed to either a trick of the light, zooform phenomena or misidentification. Besides Britain just doesn’t have the enormous wilderness areas that America and Canada do, colonies of big cats might be able to hide themselves but large hairy ape-men would find that task considerably more difficult. Well, one bit of Folklore from North Wales tells the story of a British BHM and how he, for some time, evaded capture and detection.

Villagers in Nant Gwynant in North Wales have long told a story about how a cave in the valley came to be named. Long ago villagers and shepherds in the area were plagued by a thief that would break into their homesteads. They would awaken to find that their goats and cows had been milked, food had been stolen and the best sheep taken during the night. This went on for some years and every time anyone laid a trap for the thief it never took the bait and the finger of popular suspicion passed from ne’er-d’-well to ne’er-d’-well with each suspect’s guilt eventually being disproved.

One day a shepherd was returning from the mountains later than usual and spotted something strange; a huge burley naked man covered from head to toe in thick red fur was resting on a neighbouring hill. The shepherd suspected that this out of place and strangely hirsute giant might be the thief that was plaguing the village so the shepherd snuck past the man without being detected and ran back to the village as soon as he was out of sight.

When he reached Nant Gwynant he rounded up all the available men and they hatched a hasty plot to catch the hairy giant. Unfortunately, because it would seem this plan involved running at the hairy man and shouting loudly whist brandishing makeshift weapons this plan was, not surprisingly, unsuccessful.

The hairy man bounded off on all-fours leaping over obstacles with the skill and precision of a dear.

A watch was kept on the area over the coming weeks to see if the hairy man would return, and he did a few days later. Because the previous plan had failed the villagers decided to loose their dogs on the hairy man instead, however this also proved unsuccessful when the man bounded off with a hare-like speed.

The villagers despaired that they’d ever catch the man, as he was too fast for even their dogs to catch, and one man came up with the idea of consulting a magician. The magician told the villagers to find a red haired greyhound without a single hair of a different colour and this would be able to catch the man. After much searching and bartering with local towns and villages the people of Nant Gwynant found a dog that fitted the bill and proudly took him home. When the villagers next saw the hairy man they were ready with the red greyhound and it was set loose to catch the hairy man. The hairy man escaped again by leaping down a small cliff.

After everything they tried to catch the hairy man had failed the men of the village reluctantly gave up and resigned themselves to the fact that the thefts would continue. However, one woman was so angered by her frequent losses she decided to stay up every night and hide herself in the front room of her farmhouse to wait for when the hairy man decided to pay a visit. Sure enough after a few weeks the hairy man paid a visit to the wrong house and the lady was waiting with a hatchet.

She remained hidden until the man had squeezed his bulky frame halfway though the window before she struck the hairy man with her hatchet. The unexpected blow cleaved off the hairy man’s hand in one blow and he recoiled back out of the window before the woman could smite him with a further whack. The brave woman dashed out of her door, hatchet in hand ready to finish the man off but by the time she had gotten outside he had fled.

When the village awoke the next day and the men learned what had happened they followed the trail of blood the hairy man had left behind to a cave beneath a local waterfall. As the big hairy man was never seen again it was assumed by the villagers that he had died in the cave, so the cave was named ‘the cave of the hairy man’.

CFZ ARCHIVING PROJECT: The second trenche of big cat clippings

As you know, Oll has been working on the archiving project since early February, and he has just started the Mystery Cat section. This second trenche is from the 1980s and the first half of the 1990s and concerns big cats in Wales

http://www.cfz.org.uk/Archiving/ABC%202/

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Two obscure Welsh dragons

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..


The Red Dragon (Ddraig Goch) is, of course, the cryptozoological symbol of the Principality of Wales (although only officially for 50 years). Not surprisingly, there are numerous dragon yarns from Wales, one or two of which have escaped the standard works on the subject. The following are both from ‘Bye-gones’, that little known journal I have found so useful for odd snippets of Fortean interest.

In June 1896, correspondent ‘N.W.T.’ contributed this bit of folklore: ‘I have been informed that some 50 years ago at Ystradgynlais [Powys, Mid Wales] it was generally believed there was a flying serpent existing on a spot called “Winllan”; it was a rough, stony piece of ground covered with brambles on the river side, and is now the site of Yniscedwyn Board Schools. Lizards infested the place. My informant suggests that the story was invented to keep children from going blackberrying.’

A quick Google search finds an Ysgol Ynyscedwyn in Ystradgynlais but their website states that this school was founded in 1906, so this may not be the Board School referred to, despite carrying the same name (I attach a picture, anyway – imagine being taught over a former dragon’s nest!).

In response to this account, ‘T.H.J.’ dug out a reference to another dragon from an old Welsh language journal of 1877 and submitted a translation to ‘Bye-gones’ later the same month. This beast inhabited the valley of the River Conwy in North Wales and went by the name of a carrog. This is the only such usage I know of (although there is a village called Carrog not far from Llangollen, in the valley of the Dee). T.H.J. informs us:

‘The carrog somewhat resembled a flying serpent. According to popular tradition, this fearful creature sheltered at night in the brushwood that then grew on Dol-y-garrog, and during the day frequently visited Eglwysfach, kidnapping and eating children; and in order to slay this creature Saint Beuno paid a visit to the place.’

St Beuno is an important name in North-East Wales, a Dark Age saint to whom many churches are dedicated. He is said to have been the uncle of St Winefride, whose severed head created the famous Holywell in Flintshire. The village where the action takes place is today spelt Eglwysbach, but this is probably an inaccurate spelling. But back to the story:

‘He reached Eglwysfach very early. He went to the church, and repeated his prayers, and after the sun had shone for some time the Carrog came and lay down on the hill. Saint Beuno ascended the church tower, and directed an arrow from his bow to the tender spot on his throat, which took fatal effect; and it is said this was the only penetrable part of the creatures hide, being like that of a crocodile.’

A practical bunch these early saints. However, there is another tradition relating to the area in which a hero slays a fearsome wild boar, so this may be a variant on that theme.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.com/).

OLL LEWIS: Be Ceffyl Near Water

Apart from the fact that his puns are terrible and he has an obsession with the more surreal side of Internet culture, Oll Lewis hasn't put a foot wrong since we started this bloggo-thing. Because of his interest in things aquatic he has been co-ordinating the lake and sea monster news for the CFZ for some years now, and as regular readers of this bloggo will already know he is letting this obsession spill over online. However, he also has an obsession with Wales - no, not the big, spouting, there-she-blows type, but the principality..

Creatures called water-horses pop up in many different mythologies around the world. The Scottish form is probably the most well known and is also known as the kelpie. Kelpie are often described as being of similar appearance to a horse but with a constantly moist and dripping mane and occasionally seal or elephant like skin instead of fur. This skin is cold and clammy to the touch and should one be foolish enough to attempt to ride a kelpie the skin becomes adhesive making the rider stick to the beast before it invariably runs into water to drown its rider.

The Welsh form of the water-horse is known as ‘ceffyl dŵr’ to avoid confusion with the kelpie and other forms of water horse. The ceffyl dŵr looks exactly like a normal horse according to folklore and the only clue that it is anything different is that it is seen near water. These water horses are usually depicted as being a lot less dangerous than their Scottish counterparts, some are even helpful to men.

One such helpful horse was seen late one night by an old man in Flemingston, Glamorgan. The creature was luminous and took the form of a horse of average size being rode by a very long legged man. The water horse guided the man across the marshland near the river Thaw, showing him the quickest route out of the marsh where it was safe to tread. Not long after the man had made it to safe ground a freak tide washed in flooding the marsh, and the whole valley. Were it not be for the horse, guiding him quickly and safely out of the marsh, the man claimed, he would certainly have been drowned.

This may not be a genuine traditional story though because Flemingston was, for a long time, the home of Iolo Morganog. Anyone familiar with my writings on afanc, gwibers and other Welsh mystery animals will be aware of just how often his name crops up. Iolo was a genius, responsible for many aspects of the revival of Welsh culture and wrote some of the best poetry ever written in Welsh. The problem was that he just couldn’t take criticism so often presented his poems as new finds from past masters, often these forgeries were so perfect in style and prose that they were only discovered to be fakes after Iolo’s death. As well as forging poetry he also forged folklore, inventing many tales himself, and it takes quite some dedication to separate Iolo’s stories from genuine folklore. Anyway, I digress, back to the subject of water horses.

As well as benevolent ceffyl dŵr there are stories about some that acted as pranksters. One such creature was witnessed in the Glyn Neath area near Swansea, by waterfalls where the rivers Perddyn, Little Neath, Mellte, and Hepste meet a traveller happened upon a magnificent white stallion. Weary from a long journey, after checking that there were no other people in the immediate area, the traveller decided to take the animal so he would be able to undertake the rest of his journey in relative comfort.

Nothing could have prepared him for what was said to have happened next. The horse rose into the air and carried the hapless traveller miles away from his destination, as far as Llandewi Brevi, before dissipating into mist. The traveller was quite shaken by all this and finally arrived at his destination a great deal later than he would have done, which probably served him right for being willing to take a horse that wasn’t his in the first place.

Another tale told about a ceffyl dŵr is much more like a kelpie myth and is one of the few stories in Welsh folklore that features a horse intent on causeing harm. The Horse was said to have inhabited the area around Carmarthan Bay. This grey horse seemed, like most water horses, indistinguishable from any normal horse apart from the fact that it did not appear to have an owner and it was said to wait for any victim gullible enough to fall for its innocent appearance. One such person came in the form of a cocky English carter who scoffed at the local’s wariness of the animal. Not believing a word of the local’s suspicions and presumably not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth the man decided that he would use the horse to drive his cart and thereby claim ownership of the beast. The plan worked well, until the man led the horse to the spot on the shore where he had found it. The horse ran off into the sea, cart and its driver along with it and neither was ever seen again.

The water-horse is probably among the least likely of all strange creatures in European folklore to actually exist, given their fantastical attributes like flying or glowing in the dark for example, but some accounts of the kelpie might be loosely based on misadventures with seals. The real purpose of water horse myths however was likely just to make people think twice before taking a horse when its owner might not be around.

VICIOUS WORMS

Whilst Barry the polychaete worm at the aquarium in Newquay is certainly a smashing looking creature, he is not as singular as one might have thought. They can be quite aggressive, and related species are even found in British waters.

The aggression of large polychaetes should not be underestimated. Whilst on a residential course at Dale Fort, near Haverfordwest in Wales during my time studying zoology at university, I was studying the effects of osmosis on marine worms.

We had captured a number of large specimens of the king ragworm (Nereis virens ). The largest was as long as my forearm and as thick as my finger. Whilst releasing them back into the sea after the experiment was finished the big individual coiled round at attempted to bite me with pincers the size of rose thorns. It narrowly missed.

I have no doubt they could easily devour small fish

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: On a roll

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

A motif one regularly sees in illuminated manuscripts and bestiaries is that of the ‘rolling stoat’, that is to say a stoat or weasel with its tail clasped in its jaws and apparently wheeling along in a novel manner.

My local parish church, that of St Mary’s in Mold, Flintshire, has an unusual feature, an amusing frieze of animals which runs in an unbroken line round the building. It is contemporary with the church itself, which was completed in 1501. Among the cats, dogs, cattle, dragons and imaginative hybrids represented in this frieze there are two stoats or weasels cheerfully rolling along ouroborus-style.

I’d always assumed this was just a bit of fun, a medieval jest, but a snippet I found in ‘Bye-gones’ – that old journal I spent several years picking apart – has made me ponder. I refer to an entry, dated October 12, 1904. A correspondent, Mr W H Bickerton, wrote in response to a letter submitted by another reader the previous week about an unusual stoat that was caught near Shrewsbury. This specimen was described as being ‘entirely without forelegs’, which had raised the question, ‘how the animal so bereft could move about?’. Now we come to Mr Bickerton’s contribution:

‘A woodman employed on a large estate in South Oxen [sic] once told me that on the previous day he had seen a stoat robbing a pheasant’s nest, and carrying the eggs to a wood stack a short distance off. The means adopted were as follows:- The stoat first clasped an egg with his fore paws against his chest, resting his head upon them, and then rolling himself up into a complete ball, with impetus from the hind legs rolled over and over until he reached the store-house.

‘If a stoat with his full complement of legs could carry a pheasant’s egg, I think he could manage personal locomotion when short of two. The woodman broke up the wood stack and found eighteen pheasant eggs stored away.’

So, maybe not so fanciful, then?

Incidentally, apropos of absolutely nothing other than that I’ve just remembered it, I wonder if you know what the country folk of Monmouthshire and Gwent called a mole? According to local historian and author the late Fred Hando, a mole was known in those parts as a ‘Woompa’. So, guess what they called a mole-hill? A Woompa Tump. Isn’t that great?

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

Richard Thomas is a new member of the CFZ family. He is a mate of Richard Freeman, and he asked whether we would be interested in the following article about strange mystery cats in Wales:

Anyone who listened to that interview will know that my younger sister (with a friend) actually had an ABC sighting in the Welsh countryside. It happened a couple of years ago. Basically, she saw what she said looked like a puma or other large black cat, and, for anyone who thinks this must have been a little tomcat seen from far away, the animal was carrying a very large, dead sheep in its mouth.

Read on: http://www.binnallofamerica.com:80/rr9.12.8.html

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Wrexham carter attacked by enormous serpent

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

Apologies for both the lateness and the brevity of this blog but it’s deadline week and the usual scramble to fill pages with great dollops of strangeness.

This is another account from my home patch of North-East Wales. Unfortunately, I don’t have the original source in front of me but can tell you it was a slim volume detailing the history of a village in what is now the county borough of Wrexham: Overton in Days Gone By by G J Howson, published in 1883. I must quote from my first book Supernatural Clwyd, which I wrote when I was 24 (crikey, was I ever that young?)

‘One year in the early 19th century, there was a news report of a “huge snake” being encountered in Overton. It had leapt out of a hedge and attacked a team of horses carrying a cart of coal near the bridge. With considerable difficulty, the carter succeeding in killing it, and he draped it over his cart. The carcass was so long that its head reached the ground in front and its tail dragged along behind!’

I sincerely hope it was the source that was vague about the year and not down to any youthful sloppiness on my part. I also find myself pondering whether snakes, be they ever so huge, can actually ‘leap’. I suppose they can. The bridge referred to is a sizeable, horseshoe-shaped structure with an inn on its northerly (I think) side and a wide stretch of the River Dee far below it on the opposite side.

I shouldn’t think this snippet is well known so I hope it proves interesting, brief though it is. I don’t suppose there are many descriptions of dragon-length serpents from the 19th century.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.com/).

OLL LEWIS: Barking Up The Wrong Tree

Apart from the fact that his puns are terrible and he has an obsession with the more surreal side of Internet culture, Oll Lewis hasn't put a foot wrong since we started this bloggo-thing. Because of his interest in things aquatic he has been co-ordinating the lake and sea monster news for the CFZ for some years now, and as regular readers of this bloggo will already know he is letting this obsession spill over online. However, he alsoi has an obsession with Wales - no, not the big, spouting, there-she-blows type, but the principality..

What can a Prince’s dog tell us about a cryptid? Quite a lot as it happens…

The cryptid in this case is a most unusual creature known as the water leaper, or as Llamhigyn y dŵr in Welsh, and the dog is Gellert, the martyred hound from which, according to folklore, the town of Bedd Gellert in North Wales takes its name.

The Story of Gellert has become the most famous version of the martyred hound story. Prince Llewellyn the Great of Wales was given a puppy by prince John (later King John) of England that Llewellyn called Gellert. As the years rolled by Gellert became Llewellyn’s favourite hunting dog because of the animal’s loyalty and the affection he showed him, so when it was time for Gellert to retire from the pack he was brought home to join Llewellyn’s wife and baby son as a full member of the family. Gellert and the infant got along splendidly and seemed to form a close bond and when the baby’s mother died soon after Gellert was always there to comfort the child.

One day Llewellyn went hunting to catch a dangerous wolf that had been taking farm animals and even attacking people and left his young son at home with Gellert to keep him company. During the hunt Llewellyn found the wolf near to his home and gave chase but eventually lost it. This was an embarrassment for Llewellyn, who was famous for his hunting skills and had promised the villagers that he would bring the wolf’s rampages to an end, so he stayed out until the evening in a fruitless search for the wolf. When he returned home Gellert ran up to his master with his tail wagging and his face covered in dried blood. Llewellyn rushed up to his son’s room where his eyes met with a gruesome tableau. Blood was splattered all over the floor and up the walls, the cot was over-tuned, tapestries, furs and ornaments were thrown asunder and a large amount of blood was pooled all around a suspicious looking pile of sheets.

Believing the dog had murdered the boy, Llewellyn ran his sword though the hound in a fit of rage. However, as Llewellyn drew out the sword he heard his son’s cries from underneath the upturned cot. He ran over to the cot and found his son underneath it unharmed, so he ran over to the pile of sheets and pulled them up, to find out where the pool of blood had come from. It was the wolf Llewellyn had been hunting. After it had escaped it had come to the house and tried to attack the boy, but Gelert had protected the child and killed the wolf after a violent battle. Llewellyn was distraught upon discovering his mistake and ran over to the dieing hound. He held him in his arms and comforted him as he slowly bled to death. As the loyal dog licked his masters hand while the last of its live ebbed away the prince swore that he would build a memorial to the bravest and most loyal of all dogs atop the animal’s grave so that nobody would ever forget what had happened.

Such a nice story, however it’s all a complete fabrication. There never was a dog named Gellert. The tale had in-fact been invented by Bedd Gellert inn owners, the Pritchards, in order to entice tourists to the pretty little town. The towns name is thought in reality to have derived from it being the grave site of an 8th century Christian missionary named Kellert.

So that’s Gellert dealt with but what, you may ask, does that story have to do with the water leaper?

The water leaper was said to have the body of a toad but a tail instead of hind legs and wings instead of forelegs. Local belief in the water leaper was certainly strong enough in the 18th century to prompt shepherds not to use their dogs around the banks of llyn Glas for fear of an over zealous dog herding an animal into the water where ‘something’ would catch hold of it and pull the sheep to its doom.

The only detailed encounter with a water leaper ever recorded in print and was transcribed by John Rhys who was studying the folklore of the area in the late 18th century. The encounter took place sometime in the first few decades of the 18th century; a local fisherman called Ifan Owen, also known as Han, had had an awful day’s fishing;

Whenever Han had cast out that day something had nibbled at his bait and removed it cleanly from the hook without getting snagged on it or pulling at the line. Because Han made his living from fishing he grew steadily more annoyed each time his bait was stolen and eventually, when he could take it no more he moved to another spot, beside a small cliff in the valley.

When Han cast his line out here he felt something pull at his bait almost instantly and, not wanting to lose any more of his bait, he pulled his rod back much more sharply than usual to be sure of hooking the animal that had been getting away with his bait all day.

Having finally hooked his tormentor Han had to pull with all his might to get the creature out of the water. After an epic struggle the monster erupted out of the water it shot off the hook towards the cliff, so fast that, according to Han
“It dashed so against the cliff that it blazed like lightning”.
Han later recounted that if it were not the Llamhigyn then it must have been the devil himself.

Han claimed that both he and his father before him had seen the water leaper on several occasions and in a number of places along this stretch of water and it was said to scream loudly whenever a fisherman was able to pull it to the surface.

Unlike a lot of accounts of strange animals in folklore this sighting was said to have occurred within living memory of the time it was first committed to print. The person who related Han Owen’s tale to John Rhys, who printed it in his 1901 book ‘Celtic folklore, welsh and Manx’, was William Jones, who just happened to be a descendant on his mothers side of the Pritchards, who ran the local pub and hotel in Bedd Gellert and invented the tale of Gellert the martyred hound

The Pritchard family held regular tall-storytelling nights with relatives and friends from Bedd Gellert and the nearby parish of Dolwyddelen. Han Owen was regularly in demand for these nights as he had few equals in the area in his ability to spin a yarn and it was at one of these nights that William Jones first heard Han Owen delivering the tales of his encounters with the water leaper.

Given the dubious pedigree of the tale the smart money is on the water leaper having been one of Han’s tall tales, but you can make up your own mind about that.

OLL LEWIS: Penllyn Is In My Ears And In My Eyes

A few of you will probably be aware that one of my internet nom de guerres is ‘gwiber’ and I’ve actually been asked a few times what it means.

A gwiber (pronounced ‘why-bur’) is a type of wing-ed serpent said to be found almost exclusively in Wales. In folklore they range in size from fairly small beautiful creatures to great big monsters that are often said to protect a hoard of treasure and sometimes, if a would-be slayer is lucky, a particularly attractive maiden. They are the original form of the Welsh dragon, the four legged red ‘Ishtar gate’ style dragon that features on today’s Welsh flag is a modern creation that came into being sometime after the crusades. The use of the red dragon as a symbolic representation of Wales according to folklore came from Merlin’s prophesy relating to a red gwiber and a white gwiber he saw fighting. After the victory of the red gwiber Merlin proclaimed that the original people of Britain would eventually defeat the invading Saxons while fighting under a red dragon, this came to pass with the ascension to the throne of Henry Tudor (Henry VII), a direct descendant of Welsh royalty after his victory over the English king Richard III. However, the gwiber was a symbol of the British people long before this legend was supposed to have taken place but, you’ll have to come to watch my talk at this year’s Weird Weekend in August (tickets are available now by the way) to learn more about that…

There hundreds of gwibers mentioned in Welsh folklore, from all over the principality, differing in size and ferocity. Often, due to the nature of folklore it is impossible to offer all but the vaguest date ranges to when the animals were meant to have been seen, let alone verify if the sighting even happened in the first place or what animals might have been seen. There have however been gwibers seen in fairly modern times and one witness was interviewed by Marie Trevelyan some years before she published her 1909 book ‘Folklore and Folkstories of Wales’:

“The woods around Penllyne Castle, Glamorgan, had the reputation of being frequented by winged serpents, and these were the terror of old and young alike. An aged inhabitant of Penllyne, who died a few years ago, said that in his boyhood the winged serpents were described as very beautiful. They were coiled when in repose, and "looked as though they were covered with jewels of all sorts. Some of them had crests sparkling with all the colours of the rainbow." When disturbed, they glided swiftly, "sparkling all over," to their hiding places. When angry, they "flew over people's heads, with outspread wings bright and sometimes with eyes, too, like the feathers in a peacock's tail." He said it was "no old story," invented to "frighten children," but a real fact. His father and uncles had killed some of them, for they were "as bad as foxes for poultry." This old man attributed the extinction of winged serpents to the fact that they were "terrors in the farmyards and coverts.”

Parts of the description make the animals sound very unlikely to say the least but never the less, last year I went to the woods around Penllyn, to see if I could find any trace of these creatures or, more likely, existing animals in the woods that these tales could have been based upon. Upon my arrival to Penllyn the first thing I noticed was just how quiet the village was. I live in a slightly larger village and no matter where you walk, or what time of the day, you always see someone out and about, weather they are walking a dog, off to the shop or pub or just posting a letter. Penllyn was different. During my wanderings around the village itself all I saw was the occasional car passing though and the gravestones of the local church, the only sign of current habitation was the village noticeboard and the well kept and tidy nature of the place. Perhaps I was unlucky and went on a day when all the residents were busy, but this meant that there was nobody in the village itself I could ask about local fauna or if they had heard about their village’s cryptozoological claim to fame.

So I headed off to the woods. In the woodland I was surprised to encounter the same quietness I had in the village, there was almost no bird song. I wandered through the woods, lifting up stones and logs and investigating the leaf litter but the only animals to be found were woodlice worms and other invertebrates and certainly nothing that could have been mistaken for a brightly coloured snake, let alone a winged one. I did find some eerie looking ruins, but if there was anything of cryptozoological note in the woods I didn’t find it that day. Before I left Penllyn I had one last avenue to pursue; Penllyn castle. Unfortunately the family living in the castle did not want to be interviewed by me, as they ‘don’t want publicity’ and neither did they want me taking any photographs while on site. This was strange considering they had had scenes from the Doctor Who episode ‘Tooth and Claw’ filmed there recently, but you have to respect people’s wishes. I explained that I was there for scientific reasons and wasn’t from ‘Heat magazine’ or something and left my business card with them but I never did hear back from them.

So did gwibers even exist in Penllyn? Or were they just folktales? Well there is certainly no evidence for them that has been unearthed yet other than stories and fantastical claims, so if I had to bet either way I’d say they probably did not, or at least not in the way they were described. Feathers on a snake would be odd indeed because there is no president for this and snakes are very far removed from dinosaurs and birds in evolutionary terms, but if an account was just talking about ‘wings’ on a snake and made no mention of feathers then it could be argued that it might be referring to something like a cobra. Real or not gwibers and other Welsh dragon legends are a huge part of Welsh folklore and very compelling creatures.

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: The Palé beech Marten

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

I know Jon Downes is interested in Beech Martens, so I’ve dug through some old research material (made when I was a keen young lad in my 20s, with a proper beard) to unearth an account of the possible capture of such a beastie that may not be well known. It comes from a long defunct old journal called Bye-gones, which was distributed throughout Wales and the Borders and concerned with antiquarian and natural history matters from those regions.

The following extract appeared in the August 1887 edition and was provided by a correspondent calling himself ‘J. Ll.’ (they were all so modest, these Victorian contributors). The location referred to, Palé, is a large estate boasting extensive deciduous woodland in what is now the county of Conwy. Over to J.Ll:

‘A short time ago whilst one of Mr Robertson’s (Palé) watchers was going round his beat he found to his surprise in one of the steel traps set for vermin, a ferocious looking animal, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could approach him. Being caught by the hindleg, he was springing forward, and striving his utmost to bite him. The watcher, however, managed to set another trap, so his forefeet were secured, and he was taken alive to the keeper’s residence.

‘It was sent to Mr Shaw of Shrewsbury to be preserved, and Mr Shaw described him thus: “He is a fine example of the Beech Marten (Martesfoine) and has become very rare; they reside in trees, and feed mostly on squirrels. When descending to the ground they destroy rats and other small animals.”

‘We may also add that in size he is smaller than a fox, and of a dark brown colour with white along the breast, the tail and head very much resembling the cat. He has been well stuffed and looks very well, placed on a branch of a tree. This can be seen at Mr Thomas Hughes’s, Glyn, Llandrillo (the keeper’s house).’

I confess to being surprised by Mr Shaw’s positive identification: my understanding was that the Beech Marten has never officially been recognized as an inidigenous species to Britain, at least not in modern times. Or am I mistaken? The current location – if any – of the stuffed animal is, alas, unknown.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Legend of the Welsh Lakes

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

Since I have lived in Wales since I was a nipper, Welsh folklore is very much my thang, so don’t be surprised if this blog is strongly biased towards Cryptidiau Cymru.

One of the most significant cryptids from Welsh folklore is the Afanc: it features in several legends of some antiquity. And yet it remains one of the most obscure, since, as far as I can tell, there is no description of it.

The mysterious monster is linked to several lakes in North Wales: Llyn Barfog and Llyn Ffynnon Las, both in Snowdonia, Llyn Llion (unknown but possibly an old name for Llyn Tegid, ie Bala Lake) and Llyn yr Afanc, a deep pool in the River Conwy.

In two of these stories, the monster has been causing terrible floods until defeated by a hero: at Llyn Barfog by King Arthur and at Llyn yr Afanc by Hu Gadarn (Huw the Mighty, an archetype who might be a form of the Celtic Horned God). Both heroes employ enormous long-horned oxen, the Ychen Bannog – which deserve an article to themselves (I suspect they are memories of the auroch) – to haul him from his watery den.

Although these legends wax lyrical about the oxen, descriptions of the monstrous Afanc are not forthcoming, other than that he is capable of causing floods and is of great size. Although, in fact, the latter characteristic isn’t certain either. Prof John Rhys associated the word afanc with the Irish abhac, meaning ‘dwarf, pigmy, manikin, a sprite’. In one tale the Afanc throws poisoned darts and in the River Conwy story he talks to his captor: suggesting a more human form.

Afon is the Welsh word for river and afanc may therefore be a derivation, simply meaning ‘of the river’, or ‘creature of the river’, which is no help either. Today, the Afanc tends to be imagined as a dragon, fulfilling the same folkloric (and ecological) niche as English beasts like the Lambton Worm.

But it’s significant that he word afanc survived into the Middle Ages to mean beaver: in the 12th century, Giraldus Cambrensis mentions the beaver as an exotic animal still inhabiting the River Teifi in South Wales. Folklorist T Gwynn Jones made the sensible observation that we shouldn’t forget ‘the evidence of great inundations caused by the bursting of beaver dams’ – after all the only certain characteristic we do know of the legendary Afanc is that it could cause floods.
It seems likely then that in the imaginations of the early Welsh, the Afanc was not a dragon. What their imaginations conjured up was an enormous hairy beaver.

(Ahem! I’m sorry – have I said something funny? Quick someone, slap Richard Freeman on the back, he appears to be choking.)

For more of Richard Holland’s blather, visit http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/ and http://www.uncannyuk.com/

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: A cuddly cryptid

The CFZ blogging family would like to introduce you to a new guest blogger: Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

I have just one mystery beast sighting of my own. But it wasn’t very impressive. It was rather small and cuddly, in fact.

Early spring last year I went to take another look at an important holy well local to me in North-East Wales. Ffynnon Degla (St Tegla’s Well) at Llandegla in Denbighshire had been little more than a damp hole in the ground for more than a century but in its day (up to the early 19th century) had been an important pilgrim site and a bit of a cash cow for the parish church, since it was believed to cure epilepsy (providing you took part in an elaborate ritual involving the transference of the disease to a chicken and, of course, coughed up a coin or two). The well has recently been cleared and restored, so it’s now a basin in the ground rather than a damp patch and since there’s not very much to do up here, this seemed like an exciting enough attraction for me to bother driving the all-of 8 miles to visit the site again.

The experience was not exciting enough to keep my interest for more than about 46 seconds, however, so I then went for a stroll through the fields which skirt the River Alun into which Ffynnon Degla drains. It’s fairly nondescript county just here: open grass fields, some with cows or sheep, a few patches of woodland and scrappy plantations, also a few farms and cottages dotted about in between. Llandegla is on limestone and about 250m above sea level, although higher ground and moorland (standing on gritstone and shale) is to be found east and west a few miles away.

Strolling along in rather muted light, I spotted a critter some way ahead of me on the path. Now unfortunately, I’m useless at judging distances (my old driving instructor was driven mad by this trait, I seem to recall); suffice it to say it was close enough for me to easily spot and follow it but sufficiently far away for me to at first mistake it for a bird before realizing it was actually a mammal. When I first saw it, I thought it was a grouse or maybe some exotic pheasant that had lost its tail. That gives you an idea of the size, and also the shape: dumpy, low to the ground.

But the reason I assumed at first it was a bird was the colour. It was red. I mean: RED. Not chestnut or foxy reddish but Red Panda red, Bandicoot red. It trotted ahead of me on the path, with a kind of lolloping gait. I couldn’t see its legs. And for some reason I can’t for not recall the length or shape of its tail. All I can give is useful negatives: it didn’t have a brush and it didn’t have the white flash of a rabbit’s tail.

I was effectively driving the critter. It was aware I was there and if I stopped it would trot more slowly, but since it still kept moving, I considered it advisable to try and keep up with it just in case it turned its head. And the bastard didn’t, so I never saw it in profile. All I saw was its back and bum.

Well, there you are, a furry red thing with a dumpy shape which trotted and/or lollopped. Ultimately, I lost sight of it, ran on and realised it must have at last found a hole in the fence and had escaped into a scrubby bit of land which provided it with plenty of cover. I stood there for ages hoping I’d get another glimpse but I didn’t. I suppose I could have camped out there with big binocs but Richard Freeman I ain’t: I’m more of a spend-time-in-a-library-with-loads-of-dusty-folklore-books-and-a-cup-of-tea kinda guy.

Finally, in the hope that you haven’t already dozed off or clicked away from my one feeble foray into cryptozoology in the (rather damp) field, I need to ask a question: are there such things as brindle foxes? Twice now I’ve caught a fox in my headlights here in my home village of Gwernaffield in Flintshire and am convinced it’s brindle, or dare I say it, tabby. But much darker than most foxes or indeed tabby cats. So, is it just a trick of my headlights, or have we a rather unusual fox padding about our village?