Three Men Seeking Monsters: Six Weeks in Pursuit of Werewolves, Lake Monsters, Giant Cats, Ghostly Devil Dogs, and Ape-Men - Softcover

Redfern, Nick

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0743482549 ISBN 13: 9780743482547

Verlag: Gallery Books, 2004

Inhaltsangabe

They sought out the strange.
They investigated the inexplicable.
They had one hell of a hangover.
On an odyssey of oddities that would take them all to the very limits of their imagination (and inebriation), bestselling author Nick Redfern teamed up with professional monster-hunters Jonathan Downes and Richard Freeman. For six weeks in the summer of 2001, the intrepid-yet-hard-partying trio rampaged across the remote wilds of Great Britain in hot pursuit of werewolves, lake monsters, giant cats, ghostly devil dogs, and ape-men. Their adventures led them deep into ancient forests, into the dark corridors of a mansion hiding a wild man, and to the shores of the legendary Loch Ness -- along the way encountering all manner of curious characters, including witches, government agents, and eyewitnesses who claim to have seen monsters firsthand. And only at journey's end did the hard questions posed at the start of their quest begin to reveal some mind-bending answers. That monsters truly do exist in our world. And that we are responsible for their existence!
Whether you're seeking a glimpse into the bizarre reaches of reality, or just looking for a good time, Three Men Seeking Monsters is a uniquely gonzo trek with a trio of adventurers who pushed themselves to the edge -- and went right over it.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Nick Redfern began his writing career in the 1980s on Zero—a British-based magazine devoted to music, fashion, and the world of entertainment. He has written numerous books, including Body Snatchers in the Desert: The Horrible Truth at the Heart of the Roswell Story, and has contributed articles to numerous publications, including the London Daily Express, Eye Spy magazine, and Military Illustrated. He lives in Dallas, Texas.

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Chapter One: The Monster Busters

We're a happy family, we're a happy family...

"We're A Happy Family," The Ramones

My story begins on a hot summer weekend in 1997. Everything was good in the world. My first book was about to be released by a major British publisher and we had secured serialization for the title in a leading Sunday newspaper. I had just eaten an artery-blocking English breakfast after a beery night with Matthew Williams, then editor of the conspiracy-based journal Truthseeker's Review, and the man who would find fame in the latter part of 2000 as the first person to be arrested, charged, and convicted for making a crop circle. And in roughly two hours time I was due to deliver a lecture on the history of UFOs and the British government to the assembled throng of the curious, the mad, the paranoid, and the allegedly normal that had congregated at Sheffield University, England, for the yearly conference of the British UFO Research Association.

I turned off my Walkman from which the mighty and punk-dominated sounds of the Neurotic Outsiders echoed, entered the main auditorium of the university, and looked to see who was there. Right away, among the crowd of several hundred, an assortment of stalls, booths, and a group of spotty youths in Trust No One T-shirts, I was accosted by a greasy-haired old geezer who asked me in an accusing tone: "You're one of the lecturers, aren't you?" I nodded. "You can't do a lecture in a black T-shirt, jeans, and a motorbike jacket!" he yelled. "Didn't you bring a shirt and tie?"

"No, I did not. I don't wear shirts and ties," I answered quickly and firmly. I continued on my way and left the man complaining about my lack of commitment to the seriousness of the event as he accused me of being "with the government."

Suddenly, I was stopped in my tracks by a veritable behemoth of a character in a badly ironed brown suit (that was covered with a number of suspiciously positioned stains) striding purposefully toward me.

"Graham, come on!" the man bellowed mightily at a painfully thin, bearded fellow in a sweater and jeans behind him who, carrying an assortment of boxes crammed with books and magazines, was struggling to keep up. "Out of my way, peasants!" screamed the Hulk-like figure at all and sundry while waving a half-consumed bottle menacingly in front of them. "I have brandy and harlots to devour!"

As the assorted and astonished crowd made way in a fashion that reminded me of the parting of the Red Sea, the man stopped in front of me. Towering over me at around six feet six inches in height, surely four hundred pounds in weight, and sporting a wild beard and even wilder hair, he boomed, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Nick Redfern; who the hell are you?"

The man's tone suddenly changed; his voice took on an outrageously affected style and a beaming smile came over his face. "My dear, dear boy. I'm Jon Downes. I've been looking for you; I want to interview you for Sightings magazine."

"Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You do those lake monster and big cat investigations, don't you? Don't you run a group or something?"

"My boy, my boy, I do. Let's go and sit down at my stall and we can talk. Graham, come!" barked Jon. The thin man muttered something under his breath and followed. I scanned Jon's table closely. It was full of all manner of magazines and books on lake monsters, Bigfoot, the Yeti, the Loch Ness Monster, and more.

pard"God almighty, I need a drink," said Jon wearily, as he fell back into his chair. It buckled and strained alarmingly under his mighty girth. "Anyway, dear fellow, it's good to meet you," Jon said to me in cheerful tones. He gestured toward the thin man. "Sit, Graham!" The thin man scowled but did as he was told. "This is Graham Inglis, my manservant and special friend. Very special friend."

"Okay." I laughed. "Hi, Graham; how's it going?" The thin man smiled back in a slightly sinister fashion, nodded, and said nothing. He crossed his legs, flipped open a can of Carlsberg Special Brew lager, and turned his attention to a magazine on computer games. I watched him take a CD out of his bag and insert it into his own Walkman. It was those 1970s progressive rock atrocities, Gong. I cringed to myself. Jon proceeded to open a shopping bag and I expected to see him take out a pile of books. Instead, out came a small, lovingly crafted, wooden box with ornate brass handles. I leaned forward to see what was inside. Noticing this, Jon took an inordinate amount of time to open it and did so in a way-over-the-top camp fashion. When he finally lifted the lid, however, I was amused to see that it contained two small glasses and a bottle.

"Would you care to indulge in a small, dry sherry, dear Nicholas?" inquired Jon, with a twinkle in his bloodshot and sleep-deprived eyes. Jon was not your average UFO investigator I was relieved and pleased to find out. He was my kind of guy -- but not in the biblical sense, you understand.

Over the next hour or so, we talked about wine, women, and song, and just about everything but UFOs. It transpired that we had probably already met without realizing the fact -- at one of the many record and CD fairs that we regularly attended, bought and sold at in the 1980s and early-to-mid 1990s -- and we struck up an enjoyable rapport. Jon went on to tell me how, as a boy growing up in Hong Kong, he had been fascinated with unknown animals and monsters; and he now ran the Center for Fortean Zoology and could boast of being Britain's only full-time monster hunter. He had written numerous books on zooforms, those "nonanimate things that appear to be animals," he explained, edited two magazines -- The Goblin Universe and Animals & Men -- and regularly launched expeditions to the darkest corners of the globe in search of lake monsters, sea serpents, still-living dinosaurs, and ape-men.

Jon told me how he loathed the world of nine-to-five and wanted to earn a living his way while having an uproariously good time in the process. Yes, indeed, we were going to get along just fine. Over the course of the next six months or so Jon and I would keep in touch by telephone and met regularly at conferences around the U.K. But it wasn't until the early part of 1998 that I finally visited him at home in Exeter.

As I sat on the train to Exeter on a snowy Tuesday morning in January, my mind began to wander. I knew that Jon had grown up in Hong Kong; was widely traveled; went to school with Princess Diana's lover, James Hewitt; had a father who was high up in the British government's Colonial Service; a brother who was a vicar; and he seemed to live the life of a veritable English dandy and nineteenth-century explorer. Knowing that Jon resided in the wilds of Devonshire (in a Court, no less), and that his brother and father had both been decorated by the queen, I tried to imagine the scene that would greet me.

Doubtless, I thought, Jon's little Devon hamlet was unchanged since the eighteenth or nineteenth century and he lived in a large manor house constructed out of ancient stone that looked like it came straight out of The Hound of the Baskervilles or the pages of a Brontë or a Hardy novel. It would be a resplendent Gothic affair, complete with a large attic and a well-stocked wine cellar. Every day would be an adventure and every meal would be a banquet. Was Jon akin to being the local squire, held in high esteem by the village folk? I would soon find out.

On arriving at Exeter St. David's railway station, I trudged through the ever-deepening snow, got myself a taxi, and asked the driver to take me to Holne Court, Exwick. After first being mistakenly taken to Home Court on the other side of Exeter, I finally arrived. But this wasn't Brontë or Hardy country, and where...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Gallery Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2004
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0743482549
• ISBN 13: 9780743482547
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 276
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Simon and Schuster Netherlands BV; info@simonandschuster.nl; ; Herculesplein 96; Utrecht; 3584 AA; Niederlande