"Action is the last resource of those
who do not know how to dream."
-Oscar Wilde

There is a branch of science called cryptozoology. Specialists in the field are known as cryptozoologists. Some focus on creatures for which there is a fossil record, while others seek beasts of lore, the stuff of legends that go bump in the night. Both are in the business of decrypting clues to the natural world around us. Both are engaged in monster hunting. Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger by Margaret Mittelbach and Michael Crewdson Villard Books, 2006 Illustrated by Alexis Rockman ISBN: 0-8129-6769-0 $14.95, 320 pp It is widely accepted that the last Tasmanian Tiger died in captivity in Tasmania's capital on September 7, 1936. Thylacinnus cynocephalus (its Latin name) means "pouched animal with a dog head," a very literal, if not imaginative, description of the beast. Though a marsupial, it gained the designation of tiger due to its striped back. That, however, was about its only resemblance to the big cat. In reality it looked more like a dog. Regarded by most naturalists to be extinct, sightings of thylacines (THY-luh-scenes) - the tiger's common name - persist to this day. Although regularly investigated, wildlife authorities have all but given up hope of actually finding one. Fortunately, Mittelbach and Crewdson pay little heed to such pronouncements of demise. As naturalists, the authors are unconventional to say the least. More at home in the concrete jungle of New York City than the wilds of Tasmania, their approach to discovery orbits around life's comforts: food, espresso and weed. A chance discovery in the American Museum of Natural History in Manhattan set them on a collision course with Tasmania. Though neither can recall when they first lay eyes on the specimen - a stuffed thylacine that purportedly died at the Bronx Zoo in 1919 - it was soon to become an obsession for them. The Wizard of Paws Genomics is the science of DNA. Jurassic Park was the fictionalized result of genomics; re-animating preserved DNA. In a lab in Australia some scientists were attempting to do just that with the DNA of a thylacine. Mittelbach and Crewdson, determined not to sit this one out, packed their bags and recruited an artist friend to accompany them, who in turn recruited a girl friend the authors describe this way: The friend in question, Dorothy Spears, was a beautiful and wealthy art journalist - also recently separated - who had a penchant for wearing skintight leopard-print pants. Usually she vacationed in Majorca, the Greek islands, and the Hamptons. To say she was a fish out of water - and useless - in the rough and tumble world of Tasmania would be an understatement. By the time their departure date arrived, Alexis (the artist) had added one more stranger with no scientific knowledge to contribute to the mix, bringing the total participating in their unconventional safari to five. We're Not in Kansas Anymore Upon arriving in Tasmania, the search for the tiger begins in earnest. Dorothy - a promising source of comic relief - fades almost immediately from the adventure. In her stead the authors offer up an inexhaustible supply of Tasmanian natives, each one quirkier than the next. Though the elusive - perhaps extinct - tiger is the catalyst of their journey, in the end it's the locals who are the stars. As readers we're pulling for the bungling naturalists, but it's okay if they don't find a thylacine because the journey is so entertaining (and informative). Alexis' pot-induced fog mixed up with the larger-than-life characters of the island - human and non - keep the pages turning. Why are we intrigued by such things? Perhaps the thought of something eluding discovery gives us comfort in a world in which we have less and less anonymity. Kudos to the authors for having the creative genius to turn their off-beat safari into an enjoyable fun-filled guide to the natural history of Tasmania. And that they do it without stepping all over each other is truly an accomplishment worthy of praise. Well done. Mysterious Creatures edited by Jane N. Coughran and Janet Cave Time-Life Books, 1988 ISBN: 0-8094-6332-6 144 pp The Time-Life series Mysteries of the Unknown is a veritable encyclopedia of the supernatural. Ranging from the occult to UFOs to strange and psychic phenomena, the editors at Time-Life Books have compiled the series with objectivity in mind. They don't shy away from placing naysayers right alongside proponents of a particular subject. The series' pages are filled with truth; the series' pages are filled with fantasy. Time-Life trusts its readers to sort it all out for themselves. Water Dwellers Mysterious Creatures (Volume 7 in the series) is divided into three main sections: Creatures of the Sea, The Quest for Nessie, and In Pursuit of Bigfoot and Yeti. The first section, Creatures of the Sea, covers an array of fabled beasts and their regions of origin including Krakens (Scandinavia), Sea Devils (Adriatic), and Sea Dragons (Britannia). Also included are previously listed extinct creatures such as a pre-historic coelacanth - thought to have died out some 70 million years ago - hauled out of the Indian Ocean in 1938. Another success story is the giant squid, eluding discovery for centuries before gaining its rightful place in scientific reality. These, and other modern discoveries fuel interest in cryptozoology (literally, the science of hidden animals). With our oceans so vast, and their depths largely unexplored, any number of mythical sea creatures might be lurking in them, cryptozoologists reason. In light of discoveries made over the last century, they're making their point. Perhaps the most famous sea monster of them all is Nessie. Said to inhabit the waters of Lock Ness (Scotland), Nessie is more loved than feared. A series of sightings in the twentieth century have served to popularize her, but no scientific searches have produced definitive proof of her existence. So, for now, she keeps her secrets close, and remains a popular draw for tourists. Land Lubbers Bigfoot. Yeti. Abominable Snowman. Enkidu. Grendel. Feifei. Almas. Orang-Dalam. Sasquatch. All creatures purported to be ten to fifteen feet in height, with feet to match, and reportedly seen from Malaysia (Orang-Dalam) to the Himilayas (Yeti or Abominable Snowman) to the North American Pacific Northwest (Sasquatch). In Southern Russia they're called Almas, and it's said that in the late 1800s a female Almas named Zana worked as a slave on a farm in the Caucasus, even giving birth to a half human half Almas son. In America - though no accounts are as incredible as breeding with humans - there are reports of pioneers being attacked by stone throwing Sasquatch. And, the only film footage claiming to be of one was shot in the Pacific Northwest in 1967. The jury's still out on its authenticity. Why are we intrigued by such things? Perhaps the thought of something eluding discovery gives us comfort in a world in which we have less and less anonymity. Perhaps the very real discovery in the past century of creatures thought to be delusions of wishful thinking (the mountain gorilla, African okapi, pygmy hippo, Vu Quang ox, giant panda) fuels our desire that Bigfoot and monsters of the sea be real. Whatever the reason, we take comfort not in their existence, but in the possibility of it. And that's what cryptozoology offers; a natural world of endless possibilities. Happy hunting. posted 10/12/16 TOP