As the story goes (or, “once upon a time,” if you prefer): Jim Peters and Kevin Murphy were sitting in the beer tent at a Saline Celtic Festival …. [1]
Looking out onto Mill Pond, seeing that water as mere backdrop to festivities throughout the park, it seemed to them that something more was needed. Saline needed its own Loch Ness Monster. And it needed to dwell in Mill Pond, surfacing from parts unknown for this festival each year. [2,3]
Beyond that, little more of the origins of our own local mystery are ever likely to be fully known — except that there was, between those two engineers, somewhere in the midst of their beverages, a napkin.
As both men recalled to Saline Journal this morning, that otherwise inconsequential scrap of paper, dating back now thirteen years ago, captured their very first illustrations of what we have today as “Saline’s Loch Ness Monster.” Correction: Mother-monster with two offspring, accompanied now by a separate father-monster.
“It’s constantly evolving,” Mr Peters explained. He actually went home and built it, soup to nuts. This is his baby.
In its first iteration, the lone mechanical creature, dubbed “Millie,” was more of a two-dimensional affair. Mounted to a steel support frame, a series of swing-arms and pullies were rigged to a single rope that was routed on out from the device and to the shore. There, hidden from view, Jim Peters and Kevin Murphy took turns pulling and letting out slack in that line to raise and lower the head and tail to varying heights above water level. Further wiring caused the head of Millie to articulate during these sequences, and for her hump to move.
Then a smoke canister was added to her nose, also arranged so that it could be remotely controlled. Later still, Mr Peters upgraded the hump to make it appear more dimensional. “You know what that is?” he asked rhetorically with a mischevious twinkle in his eyes. “Window well covers for your basement,” he concluded, without pause.
Somewhere between those early days and now, the decision was made to allow Celtic Festival visitors an opportunity to work the ropes. This meant control over both movement and smoke. Additional rounds of engineering were needed to make this practical, with, for example, weights added to counter-balance lifting loads so that younger children could successfully manage the task with less exertion.
Unfortunately, this also means more wear and tear on the equipment.
“I’m repainting some parts of it every year,” Jim Peters said. “Ropes are replaced every year, and I have to do repairs. That’s all part of it. It’s all worth it.”
No one kept track of the man hours that have gone into the Saline Loch Ness Monster clan. But it’s estimated that around $2,000 in material costs would be needed to duplicate what we have here. Between events, assemblies are broken down and stored by Mr Peters. Then, sometime on the Friday before next opening or wee early on Saturday, he spends several hours transporting it all back to Mill Pond Park and putting this icon together again for another Saline Celtic Festival day.
As of press time for this article on Saline Journal today, however, everything is ready to go into the water, but it’s not actually in the water.
That’s because one frame at 150 pounds and another in excess of 250 mean that at least four men are needed to walk this out into the water for placement without damage. And, hard working and well organized as everyone on the festival team clearly is, no one is available.
Don’t worry: This story isn’t at risk for opening the 2018 Saline Celtic Festival without its full complement of working Loch Ness Monsters. But it does suggest the need for more volunteers to help make this wonderful community event happen again next year.
References
- Saline Celtic Festival (home page).
- “Loch Ness Monster” History.
- “What happens if someone cathes the Loch Ness Monster?” (July 6, 2018) BBC News.
