Champ: The Monster of Lake Champlain
At the border between New York and Vermont lies a body of water so vast it’s often mistaken for an inland sea. Lake Champlain stretches for more than 100 miles, deep and dark, with countless inlets and hidden coves. For generations, locals have said that something lives in those depths—something big, fast, and ancient. They call it Champ, and it’s one of the most enduring aquatic mysteries in North America.
From ancient Iroquois legends to modern sonar readings, Champ’s story has rippled through centuries of folklore and speculation. Fishermen, tourists, and even trained divers have all claimed to glimpse the creature said to haunt the lake’s cold waters. Whether it’s myth, misidentification, or a surviving relic of prehistory, the legend of Champ has made Lake Champlain one of the most famous monster habitats on the continent.
A Lake Built for Legends
Long before European settlers ever saw Lake Champlain, the region’s Indigenous peoples had stories of great serpents and water spirits. The Abenaki spoke of a creature called Tatoskok, a large, snake-like being that ruled the deep waters and punished those who disrespected nature. The Iroquois told similar tales of lake guardians—sometimes protective, sometimes wrathful.
When the French explorer Samuel de Champlain first visited the lake in 1609, he recorded seeing “a fish as long as a man, with sharp teeth and a body like that of a pike.” Centuries later, that note would be reinterpreted as an early reference to Champ, though modern scholars believe Champlain was describing a garfish or sturgeon. Still, the seed of the legend had been planted.
As settlements grew around the lake in the 18th and 19th centuries, fishermen began reporting sightings of a massive serpent or reptilian form moving through the water. The lake’s size and depth made it easy for such stories to thrive. At its deepest, Champlain plunges more than 400 feet, with visibility often limited to just a few feet below the surface. It’s the kind of place where anything could hide—and perhaps something does.
The First Recorded Sightings
One of the earliest detailed accounts came in 1819, when a boat captain named Cray claimed to have seen a giant “black monster” about 187 feet long near Bulwagga Bay. He and his crew described the creature as moving swiftly against the current, its body undulating like a serpent’s. They fired at it, but the creature slipped beneath the surface unharmed.
Throughout the 1800s, similar reports appeared in newspapers from both sides of the lake. Descriptions varied: some spoke of a serpent, others of a creature with humps like a plesiosaur.
A particularly dramatic sighting in 1873 described “a water serpent nearly 30 feet long” that frightened passengers on a ferry near Port Henry, New York. The story went national, and suddenly, “Champ fever” swept the region.
Locals set traps. Tourists lined the shores with binoculars. Entrepreneurs even tried selling “Champ insurance” to boaters, promising payouts if they were attacked. The monster had officially entered American folklore.
The Sandra Mansi Photograph
The most famous piece of alleged evidence for Champ came in 1977, when Sandra Mansi and her family were vacationing near St. Albans, Vermont. While picnicking by the shore, Mansi noticed something strange breaking the surface—a dark, curved neck and part of a body rising from the water. She grabbed her Kodak camera and snapped a picture before the creature sank out of sight.
Source: Sandra Mansi, via GoAdirondack.com
When the photograph was developed, it showed a long, serpentine shape against the rippling water. To many, it looked eerily similar to depictions of Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster. The “Mansi photo” quickly became one of the most iconic cryptid images ever taken in North America.
Skeptics pointed out that no one could verify the exact location or scale of the image. Without the original negative or confirmed landmarks, it was impossible to determine the creature’s true size. Some analysts suggested the object might be a floating log or debris, its shape distorted by lighting and distance.
Mansi always insisted the photo was genuine—and she never sought profit or fame from it. Even now, the image remains one of the strongest pieces of “evidence” in Champ’s long history, and one of the most debated.
Science and Sonar
As technology advanced, researchers turned to sonar and submersibles in search of the monster.
The most intriguing results came in 1979, when a group of researchers using hydrophones (underwater microphones) picked up a series of deep, rhythmic sounds in the lake. The audio was later analyzed by specialists who concluded that the noises resembled echolocation used by dolphins or whales—animals that don’t inhabit freshwater environments like Champlain.
Then, in 2003, the Discovery Channel conducted a sonar sweep of the lake while filming a documentary on lake monsters. The team recorded several large, moving objects beneath the surface. One sonar image showed a shape roughly 15 to 20 feet long moving parallel to the boat, with a second, smaller shape trailing behind it. Though not definitive, it reignited public interest.
The fascination with sonar evidence resurfaced again in July 2023, when photographer Scott Thurber captured a striking sonar image while boating near Burlington Bay. The display showed a dense, repeating pattern resembling a series of humps or a large undulating form suspended mid-water.
Source: Scott Thurber, Facebook, July 2023 via GhostlyActivities.com
Thurber shared the image publicly, noting that conditions were calm and no other boats were nearby. The photo quickly spread through regional media and online communities. Some researchers interpreted it as a possible school of fish or debris caught in a thermal layer, while others called it one of the clearest modern sonar anomalies from Lake Champlain to date.
Natural Theories and Misidentifications
Giant Sturgeon:
Lake Champlain is home to lake sturgeon that can reach lengths of over seven feet and weigh several hundred pounds. Their armored bodies, sharp dorsal ridges, and habit of surfacing can easily be mistaken for something prehistoric—especially in low light or from a distance.
Eels and Garfish:
Both species inhabit the lake and can create strange wakes when swimming near the surface. A group of eels moving together could easily appear as a long, sinuous creature.
Floating Logs or Debris:
Because Champlain borders dense forests, driftwood is common. Logs can become waterlogged and partially submerged, rocking with the waves in a way that mimics movement.
Despite these explanations, none fully account for the number of sightings by credible witnesses. Police officers, fishermen, and even a ferry captain have all sworn they saw something that wasn’t a fish, boat, or piece of wood.
A Symbol of the Region
Over time, Champ has grown beyond legend and become a cultural emblem. The creature appears on T-shirts, postcards, and roadside signs. The city of Port Henry, New York, even erected a monument in his honor.
Photo by: Paul Juser
A minor league baseball team once called themselves the Vermont Lake Monsters, complete with a smiling green mascot inspired by Champ.
Even the governments of Vermont and New York have recognized the legend’s value. Both states passed resolutions declaring Champ a protected species, meaning it’s officially illegal to harm or capture the creature—real or not. The law may be symbolic, but it shows how deeply the monster has become part of local identity.
Today, there’s even an annual “Champ Day” festival in Port Henry, where locals gather to celebrate the legend with music, food, and lake tours. For visitors, it’s part folklore, part tourism, and part sincere belief.
Champ in the Digital Age
Like any good cryptid, Champ has evolved with technology. In recent years, new images and footage have surfaced online, showing humps, shadows, or wakes moving across the lake. Most can be explained as waves or lighting effects, but a few remain unexplained.
Cryptozoologists continue to visit Lake Champlain, deploying underwater cameras and sonar equipment. Meanwhile, local tour companies offer “monster-spotting cruises,” giving tourists a chance to scan the horizon for ripples that might be something more.
For believers, the persistence of sightings is proof enough. For skeptics, it’s a reminder that myths don’t fade just because science asks them to.
And on certain fog-heavy mornings, when the lake is still and the air feels electric, some say you can hear the faint sound of water moving where nothing should be.
Whether it’s wind, wave, or something alive, Lake Champlain keeps its secrets close—and Champ is one of them.