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Cryptid: Legend of the Kettle Creek Monster

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The Susquehanna River is more than just a waterway carving its path through the scenic landscapes of Pennsylvania; it is a vast, ancient artery that has shaped the region’s history and folklore for millions of years. Stretching 444 miles from its humble beginnings as a 50-foot-wide stream at Otsego Lake in Cooperstown, New York, to its final destination in the Chesapeake Bay at Havre de Grace, Maryland, the river swells to over a mile wide in places, draining a watershed of 27,510 square miles. With every minute, it sends 18 million gallons of water into the bay, leaving a lasting impact on the ecosystem.

Geologically speaking, the Susquehanna is one of the world’s oldest river systems, predating the Appalachian Mountains and tracing its origins back to the Paleozoic Era over 300 million years ago—making it likely the third oldest major river system on Earth. The river’s West Branch, a 243-mile-long tributary, winds through the rugged, mountainous terrain of the Allegheny Plateau, forming dramatic water gaps and zigzagging through central Pennsylvania.

This ancient river, steeped in time and history, is equally rich in myth and legend. One such tale that has captivated imaginations for over 100 years is the mystery of the Kettle Creek Monster.

AI-generated image of the Kettle Creek Monster.

Known by some as the “West Branch Dugong” and the “Susquehanna Seal,” this elusive and mysterious creature is said to dwell deep within the waters of the Susquehanna’s West Branch. For over a century, stories of its existence have sparked curiosity, with skeptics dismissing it as a river myth, while others speculate it could be an undiscovered species lurking in the depths. What fuels the fascination with this creature is not just the uncertainty of its existence, but the enduring allure of the unknown. Let us journey through the history, eyewitness accounts, and the lasting intrigue surrounding this aquatic enigma.

The first documented sighting occurred on February 27, 1897, when a man using the pseudonym “John of York” penned a series of articles for The Daily Democrat, a newspaper in Lock Haven, roughly 34 miles away. His writings described a large, shadowy creature seen swimming near the confluence of Kettle Creek and the Susquehanna.

This is his story.

Kettle Creek Monster

In the West Branch of the Susquehanna, just above where Kettle Creek meets the ancient river, there is a significant stretch of water with varying depths, ranging from ten to twenty feet. Earlier in the century, this area was much deeper, but ice jams and floods have dramatically altered the riverbed. Large sandbars and gravel have built up at the mouth of the Kettle Creek, where deep pools of water used to be.

Fun Fact: Kettle Creek is a 43-mile-long tributary of the West Branch Susquehanna River that runs through Tioga, Potter, and Clinton counties.

In the not-too-distant past, this section of the river had a well-used landing for rafts and towboats that regularly transported between ten and twenty tons of freight. Most of the goods loaded at Lock Haven traveled fifty miles upstream, making stops at the first fork of Sinnemahoning Creek and other locations along the way. This landing, known as “the Point” (modern-day Westport), was situated at the junction of the Susquehanna and Kettle Creek, a critical hub before the arrival of railroads. Large quantities of freight were unloaded here, though today, the area is mostly dry land.

Upstream, beyond the creek’s junction, a long stretch of deep water still remains, though not as deep as it once was at the turn of the century. This body of water is tied to a strange legend passed down by the local Native tribe to early settlers. Long before the arrival of Europeans in the beautiful valley of the West Branch, it is said that a sea creature, or some river monster, made its home in the still waters of the area, deep among the large, dark rocks at the river’s bottom.

But how could such a creature, so far from the ocean, find itself in these inland waters? The story begins in the early 1700s, long before the construction of dams at Columbia and other places blocked the migration of sea creatures. Back then, it was common for marine animals to make their way up the river in search of fresh water for reproduction.

The legend tells of a young sea creature, possibly in the spring of the year when water levels were high, leaving its ocean home. Inexperienced and adventurous, the creature chased its prey from the Chesapeake Bay, up the Susquehanna River, and deep into the mountains. The abundance of wildlife lured it further and further inland until it became trapped in the still waters of the West Branch, unable to return to the sea.

At first, the creature was a reluctant prisoner in this freshwater trap, hoping that a flood might free it from its predicament. It lay in the deep water, surrounded by towering mountains, biding its time. Despite its captivity, the river was teeming with prey, and over the summer, the creature grew much larger and stronger.

As autumn approached, the creature anticipated a flood that would finally release it back to the ocean. But no such flood came, and the creature was forced to endure the winter in the isolated mountain valley. Fearing the ice jams might crush it, the beast was relieved when the winter proved mild, allowing it to survive and continue feeding on the abundant fish.

By the following spring, however, the creature had grown so large that even the more minor floods that came weren’t enough to carry it back to the ocean. Resigned to its fate, it accepted its new life in the freshwater, eventually letting go of any hope of returning to the sea. Over time, the creature became fully acclimated to its surroundings, adapting to the mountain river’s conditions and forgetting its oceanic past.

The creature’s true nature remained a mystery. Some speculated, based on its roar, that it could be a sea lion; others suggested it might be a giant cuttlefish. There were even those who wondered if it could be the last survivor of some ancient, supposedly extinct species, like a labyrinthodon, ichthyosaurus, or hadrosaurus. Some believed it might be a type of whale or shark. Yet, the majority leaned toward the sea lion theory, as its behavior seemed to align more closely with that animal than any other known creature.

A small group of naturalists disagreed with all these prevailing theories. Drawing from the accounts of those who had encountered the creature—who described hearing its fearsome roar and witnessing it churn the waters into foam—these experts believed the beast most closely resembled a hippopotamus or the behemoth, a primeval ox-like creature mentioned in the Book of Job. A few experts suggested it might resemble a dugong—a marine mammal described in Jules Verne’s The Mysterious Island. The creature’s behavior and roar, coupled with its size, led to its nickname: “The Dugong of the West Branch.”

AI-generated image of the West Branch Dugong.

In the last two or three decades, sightings of the dugong have become rare. Before 1869, when a major flood washed away the river road near the still waters, travelers who passed by during twilight often reported strange sounds—growls or the thrashing of water—as if the beast was still lurking beneath the surface. However, many now believe the creature was swept away by the great flood of 1889 and carried back down the Susquehanna toward the Atlantic.

However, others disagree with this perspective, believing the creature still inhabits the deep, still waters. They point to an incident when a Clearfield raft floated peacefully after a minor June flood. The crew, resting on their oars, basked in the bright spring sunshine, enjoying the fresh air of the pine-covered mountains. Suddenly, the raft scraped against something beneath the surface. Initially, the crew assumed it was a newly formed sandbar from the flood or perhaps a rock dislodged by the winter ice and pushed into the channel.

The raft twisted, creaked, and strained before coming to a complete stop. Some of the lash poles or couplings were damaged, but after a minor delay, the raft eventually moved along. Oddly, as soon as the raft drifted forward, the obstruction seemed to vanish. The old pilot, puzzled, insisted he had navigated the same channel many times without issue. Those who believed in the dugong argued that the raft had collided with the creature, possibly scratching its back or nose, causing the abrupt halt.

With the water being shallow, they reasoned, the dugong would have been forced down to the riverbed, and its reaction would have been to thrash and roar in pain. Some crew members mistook these sounds for distant thunder in the clear sky, while others believed it was simply the sound of water churning and timbers grinding over rocks.

One undeniable fact remains: fish in the West Branch are far less abundant than they were a hundred years ago before the dams were built across the Susquehanna and its main branches. Back then, fish were so plentiful that they could be caught by the cartload with minimal effort, leaving people well-fed, physically strong, sharp-minded, and content.

With fish now scarce and the dugong a voracious eater, there is concern it might turn to land animals for food. Since the dugong is not amphibious like a frog or crocodile, it can only hunt and attack in the water. As its prime hunting season is summer, children are warned to be cautious when swimming lest they become an easy snack for the creature.

Unresolved is whether the dugong still lives in the deep, dark waters of the Susquehanna. Though some locals insist it’s gone, others claim it remains, a silent predator lurking in the shadows, waiting for prey. Given the scarcity of fish today, there are rumors that the dugong may turn its appetite toward land animals, perhaps even humans.

The creature that once roamed the ocean is now forever trapped in a freshwater prison, adapting, growing, and perhaps waiting for the right moment to strike.

Fun Fact: The dugong is a type of Sirenia commonly referred to as a sea cow or manatee. They are fully aquatic, herbivorous mammals that inhabit swamps, rivers, estuaries, marine wetlands, and coastal marine waters.

Clockwise from upper left: West Indian manatee (Trichechus manatus), African manatee (Trichechus senegalensis), Steller’s sea cow (Hydrodamalis gigas), dugong (Dugong dugon), Amazonian manatee (Trichechus inunguis).
By File:Underwater photography of mammal manatee.jpg (Ramos Keith, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service)File:I432^cimgpsh orig.jpg (Mehdi Sadak 2ème compte)File:Amazonian manatee (Trichechus inunguis).jpg (Dirk Meyer)File:Em – Hydrodamalis gigas model.jpg (Emőke Dénes)File:Dugong dugon.jpg (Geoff Spiby / http://www.geoffspiby.co.za) – File:Underwater photography of mammal manatee.jpgFile:I432^cimgpsh orig.jpgFile:Amazonian manatee (Trichechus inunguis).jpgFile:Em – Hydrodamalis gigas model.jpgFile:Dugong dugon (cropped).jpg, Public Domain, Link

Other Susquehanna River Monsters

The West Branch Dugong isn’t the Susquehanna’s only river monster. Nearly twenty years earlier, in April 1878, something extraordinary emerged from the Susquehanna River between Columbia and Wrightsville. Witnesses, including a respected Columbia & Reading railroad employee, reported a creature of remarkable stature and bizarre features—standing upright in the water with a canine head and fan-like claws. This creature, dubbed the “Sea Lion,” sparked a frenzy of speculation and adventure among the locals. Click here to read the full account.

More recently, at Safe Harbor Dam, local legend holds that a diver went down behind the dam to remove underwater debris only to resurface a few minutes later. He quickly climbed out, announcing he was quitting, having seen a creature large enough to eat him. Could there be any truth to this fishy-sounding tale? Click here to find out.

Creature of the Deeps?

Another mysterious aquatic creature is said to lurk in the Susquehanna River near its confluence in Northumberland County, known locally as the “Susquehanna Mystery Thing.” Sighted as recently as the 2000s, the creature gained attention when outdoor guide and writer Ken Maurer of The Daily Item in Sunbury wrote about it.

Maurer described his eerie encounter as follows: “It pushed a wake that sent waves lapping onto the shoreline. At about 50 yards, it sank out of sight. Creepy. Over the next year or two, I saw it several times, but it always disappeared before getting close enough for a clear view.” Another witness compared the creature to a small submarine just about to surface.

Has the Kettle Creek Monster moved downriver?

Susquehanna Mystery Thing

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Thank you

A big thank you to the Ross Library in Lock Haven for getting me copies of the original 1897 newspaper articles. Without their help, this story would not have been possible.

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