Why We Keep Telling Legends of Sea Monsters

Earlier this month, Cape Cod lobster diver Michael Packard made headlines around the world when he claimed to have been swallowed by a humpback whale and then spit back out. Though the story has its skeptics, its popularity reminds us of the continuing power of sea myths, which are as old as the art of storytelling.

In particular, Mr. Packard’s story echoes the biblical book of Jonah, who languished in the belly of a giant fish or whale for three days before being freed by God’s command. There are other sea monsters in the Bible as well: The prophet Isaiah refers to Leviathan, “the dragon that is in the sea,” which Christian scripture associates with Satan. Christ’s victory over Leviathan, and by extension over evil itself, is described in the book of Revelation: “And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him a thousand years.”

The connection of sea monsters with apocalyptic events is also reflected in Norse myth in the figure of Jorganmandr, the serpent that inhabits the Midgard, the ocean that circles the human world. When Ragnarok—the Norse apocalypse—arrives, Jorganmandr will uncoil itself for a final battle with the god Thor.

Other sea monster tales are less cosmic and more practical, acting as warnings to sailors or to people who tarry too close to the sea. The Japanese Umibozu are spirits that appear when the sea is calm, quickly turning it wild and stormy. They are depicted with large round heads and wide smiles, and their name—which means “sea monk” or “sea priest”—has given rise to the idea that they are the ghosts of drowned priests. The Qalupalik, of Inuit lore, is an ugly green skinned creature whose hum beckons children toward the water’s edge where they will be dragged beneath the waves. The story may have been used to keep children away from the water or off the ice.

Many cultures tell stories of sea creatures with human characteristics who lead people to sorrow and death. The Irish selkie or seal-woman was said to occasionally shed her skin and come ashore. If a man could find and hide the selkie’s skin, he might claim her as his bride. She would live with him as a devoted wife and mother, but should she find her skin, she would return immediately to the sea, leaving her human family behind. The siren of Greek myth was deadlier: Part woman and part bird, her song lured sailors to leap into the sea and crash their ships on the shore. The each-uisge, a Scottish water spirit, can take on the form of a handsome man, but it more often transforms into a beautiful horse that lures people onto its back before galloping into the sea.