Contrary to popular belief, the sailors of Columbus's day did not think they would sail right off the edge of the Earth. They were, however, apprehensive about what they would find in their travels. Mistakes about marine life have ranged from inaccurate assumptions about the behavior of known species to fanciful depictions of animals that "might" exist.

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Year: 1570

Scientist/artist: Abraham Ortelius

Originally published in: Theatrum Orbis Terrarum

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

This excerpt of a map of Iceland by a Flemish cartographer shows sea monsters that some believed inhabited the surrounding waters. Some speculation about this monster-riddled map, however, is that it aimed to dissuade Europeans from moving to an island that the current settlers preferred to keep to themselves.

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Year: 1570

Scientist/artist: Abraham Ortelius

Originally published in: Theatrum Orbis Terrarum

Now appears in: "Early Modern Brave New World?" by Ciobanu Estella Antoaneta in The Annals of Ovidius University Constanta

Ortelius didn't confine exotic sea creatures in his maps to the relatively familiar waters of Northern Europe. In the Pacific Ocean, he envisioned big, gluttonous whales attacking passing ships, and preening sirens waiting to seduce the sailors.

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Year: 1603

Scientist/artist: Abraham Ortelius

Originally published in: Theatrum Orbis Terrarum

Now appears in: "A Ketos in Early Athens: An Archaeology of Whales and Sea Monsters in the Greek World" by Papadopoulos and Ruscillo in American Journal of Archaeology

Ortelius issued another version of his famous map in 1603, including this detail of what he identified as the Steipereidur. Despite its fearsome teeth, Ortelius considered this animal the tamest of whales, explaining that it "fights other whales on behalf of fishermen."

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Year: 1539

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Carta Marina

Now appears in: The Book of Fabulous Beasts and Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

Many of the creatures in Ortelius's map were inspired by the version released decades earlier by Olaus Magnus, a Catholic priest who left Scandinavia for Rome after the Reformation. Olaus (originally Olaf Mansson) became a significant chronicler of fabulous sea creatures.

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Year: 1539

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Carta Marina

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

Although many of the monsters that decorated Renaissance maps were just that — decorations — Olaus Magnus took great care to label the creatures on his Carta Marina and provide an explanatory key to what they were, which suggests that he depicted animals he believed to be real. And some of the animals on his map can be related to real animals, such as the walrus, the blue whale and the giant squid. But other animals were more fanciful. This sea monster duo includes a lobster, just one described as 12 feet long. The monster dining on lobster is apparently a sea rhinoceros, but unlike most of the other sea monsters on Olaus's map, this one was not named in his key. The sea rhino was likely inspired by a real animal, but not one that ever lived in the ocean.

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Year: 1555

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus

Now appears in: Olaus Magnus's Sea Serpent by Joseph Nigg in Public Domain Review

Giant lobsters also made an appearance in a book that Olaus Magnus wrote about the "northern peoples." In this scene, smaller versions, some of them oddly airborne, surround two giant lobsters in the water near a ship. One of the horrifying beasts snatches a sailor out of the ship and into the water. The lobsters look very much like the real animals, but it's hard to say what, besides exaggeration, could account for their size.

Year: 1539

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Carta Marina

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

After pointing out that a "monstrous Fish" appeared off the coast of England in 1532, Olaus Magnus wrote, "Now I shall revive the memory of a monstrous Hog that was found afterwards, Anno 1537, in the same German Ocean, and it was a Monster in every part of it. For it had a Hog's head, and a quarter of a Circle, like the Moon, in the hinder part of its head, four feet like a Dragon's, two eyes on both sides of his Loyns, and a third in his belly inkling toward his Navel; behind he had a Forked-Tail, like to other Fish commonly." Olaus Magnus then went on to compare the beast to heretics who, he believed, lived like swine. The naturalist had been born a Catholic, but his homeland of Sweden, like most of northern Europe, was Protestant by the time he produced his map so rich in sea monsters. Remaining a Catholic, Olaus was evetually named Archbishop of Uppsala, though he had hardly any fellow believers to oversee there; he and his brother had already moved to southern Europe. His Catholic disdain for Protestants was more than reciprocated, with Martin Luther and Philipp Melanchthon distributing pictures of a "pope-ass" and a "monk-calf." Besides claiming thousands of lives, Europe's religious divisions in the 16th and 17th centuries caused a renewed interest in monsters (sea bishops proliferated) with Christians of both flavors blaming each other for the weird new creatures.

Year: 1598

Scientist/artist: Willem Barentsz

Originally published in: Three Navigations by Dutchmen to Northern Lands, Scandinavia, Moscovy, and Novaya Zemlya

Now appears in: Mapping the Silk Road and Beyond by Kenneth Nebenzahl

Though unusually colorful and flamboyant compared to the actual animals, these late-16th-century whales appear less monstrous than creatures inhabiting maps made just a few decades earlier. The gaggles of pinnipeds poking their heads above the sea surface also look more realistic. It's not surprising that the animals would be more realistic given that Barentsz earned a reputation for accurate depictions of landmasses of the Arctic regions.

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Year: 1644

Scientist/artist: Willem Janszoon Blaeu

Originally published in: Le Theatre du Monde

Now appears at: Evolution of the Map of Africa from the Princeton University Library

This snippet of sea monsters and ships comes from an expansive map of Africa and the surrounding seas. Made during the "Golden Age" of Dutch mapmaking, Blaeu's map was reprinted multiple times between 1631 and 1667. The water-spouting sea monster in the upper left looks big enough to swallow a ship. The fanciful flying fish in the lower left are hard to identify, though they bear some resemblance to fossil sharks known as Iniopterygiformes.

Year: 1562

Scientist/artist: Diego Gutiérrez

Originally published in: Americae Sive Qvartae Orbis Partis Nova Et Exactissima Descriptio

Now appears at: Library of Congress (http://www.loc.gov/)

The winged fish in the upper right does bear a resemblance to a real animal, albeit an extinct one: an Iniopterygian. And the frowning swimmer in the lower right is a pretty recognizable dolphin, even if it's uncharacteristically grumpy for a cetacean. The most interesting creature is the one in the left half of the image carrying a human passenger. That odd animal bears a combination of mismatched features: sea-serpent tail, mammalian face with an almost human expression, winged arms and front flippers. (The humanoid figure with the shell should probably pass without comment.) The ocean was still full of unknowns in the 16th century, and maritime travel would remain perilous for centuries to come. No doubt sailors and their sweethearts worried about sea creatures, but it's also possible that some of these illustrations served as pure decoration.

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Year: 1573-1585

Scientists: Guillaume Rondelet and Ambroise Paré

Originally published in: Des Monstres

Now appears in: On Monsters and Marvels by Ambroise Paré, translated by Janis Pallister

In his book on monsters, Paré mentioned two fish described earlier by Rondelet. One was described as a plume because it resembled feathers worn on caps. He went on to say that this fish "shines at night like a star." The other fish was described as "like a bunch of grapes." Perhaps the so-called plume could be explained by a fleeting glimpse of a nudibranch, jellyfish, flatworm, or annelid, and plenty of marine animals are bioluminescent. Explaining the bunch of grapes, however, is harder. Much harder. It looks like the Muppet Gonzo dressed in a floral-print bodystocking, neither of which existed in the 16th century.

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Year: 1573-1585

Scientist: Ambroise Paré

Originally published in: Des Monstres

Now appears in: On Monsters and Marvels by Ambroise Paré, translated by Janis Pallister

Whatever misconceptions existed about cetaceans in his day, Paré relayed what was likely an accurate account of whale hunting, explaining that whenever a whale was sighted in one seaside city, "all the inhabitants of the town run to the spot with whatever of their equipment is necessary to catch it. . . . and with all their might they throw [their harpoons] upon the whale, and when they perceive that it is wounded — which is recognized by the blood that is issuing from it — they loosen the ropes of their [harpoons], and follow it so as to fatigue it and catch it more easily; and drawing it on board, they rejoice and are merry; and they divide [it] up, each getting his portion according to the duty he will have performed." This woodcut, possibly borrowed from an earlier source, has some hits and misses. The blowhole, issuing a plume, isn't bad. The tail looks like that of a fish, but more conspicuous are the menacing eye and man-sized tusks. Perhaps the tusks served the purpose of making this cetacean-human encounter appear more evenly matched.

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Year: 1680

Scientists/artists: Edward Tyson and Robert Hooke

Originally published in: Phocæna, or The Anatomy of a Porpess

Now appears in: Wicked Intelligence by Matthew Hunter

Tyson based his engraving on illustrations by Hooke, and there's much to admire in this picture. But the circumstances of the anatomical study were, by today's standards, pretty odd. In Restoration London, the place to hang out (if you were a man and they'd let you in) was a coffeehouse. By 1700, several hundred had sprung up around the city. Multifaceted researcher and founder member of the Royal Society of London, Hooke was said to visit multiple coffeehouses daily, to catch up on the latest gossip and scientific debates. Garraway's ranked among his favorites; when he started his own splinter philosophical club, he and his pals gathered at Garraway's. In November 1679, he bought himself a "sea hog" (porpoise). It was no longer living, and refrigeration was nowhere near invented yet, so the specimen would have been slippery and aromatic by the time he took possession of it. He took it straight to Garraway's. And started dissecting it right there in the middle of debating coffee drinkers. Not the kind of thing you'd hope to see at Peabody's or Starbuck's.

Year: 1715

Originally published as: Italian broadside

Now appears in: Whale Ships and Whaling by George Francis Dow

In this early-18th-century whaling scene, the whale sports oddly human-looking eyes and pectoral fins that look a little like flappy ears. It appears to float on the surface of the water, but this scene might simply show the cetacean breaching. George Francis Dow saw fit to include this image in his retrospective on whaling, originally published in 1925.

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Century: 12th

Originally appeared in: Church of Saint Martin in Zillis, Switzerland

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

The painted ceiling of the Church of Saint Martin serves as a sort of medieval bestiary. Surrounding the Earth on the church ceiling is an ocean populated by an assortment of hybrid creatures, each one a land animal mixed with a fish. The ceiling boasted a horse fish, goat fish, rooster fish, etc. One of the hybrids was an elephant fish. This picture suggests that the painter had some idea of what an elephant trunk looks like — notable since medieval Europeans didn't often see elephants. It also reflects the belief common at the time that every land-dwelling animal had a marine counterpart.

Year: 1491

Originally appeared in: Hortus Sanitatis

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

The common medieval belief that every land animal had its counterpart in the sea didn't just play out on church ceilings; printed bestiaries also highlighted marine versions of familiar animals. This woodcut from Hortus Sanitatis features a sea cow (top), sea dog (middle), and sea horse (bottom). Medieval and Renaissance Europeans also believed the vast ocean held watery counterparts of things they could see in the sky. Remnants of these old beliefs linger in the names of some aquatic and marine animals today, such as catfish and starfish.

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Year: 1491

Originally appeared in: Hortus Sanitatis

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

This woodcut is labeled "pistris," a term Nigg likens to "prister" or "physter." It may have been loosely based on a sperm whale. Although The King's Mirror , a 13th-century manuscript written in Old Norwegian, characterized the sperm whale as a gentle giant, a more common view was that the cetaceans were malicious. In the 16th century, Olaus Magnus opined, "They roam about in all the seas looking for ships, and when they find one they leap up, for in that way they are able to sink and destroy it the more quickly." This illustration shows a scaly creature with legs and a pig-like snout attempting to do just that.

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Year: 1727

Scientist: Peter Kolb

Originally published in: Naaukeurige en uitvoerige beschryving van kaap de Goede Hoop

Image provided by: Biodiversity Heritage Library (some rights reserved)

In his book about the Cape of Good Hope, Kolb mixed the accurate with the fantastic. On the same page that showed dorsal and ventral views of a ray, this creature appeared. It's hard to say what, if any, actual marine animal might have inspired this picture. The label translates to "sea-lion" and it does look like a feline transmogrifying into a fish. Perhaps this was another example of an assumed marine counterpart to every terrestrial animal.

Year: 1491

Originally appeared in: Hortus Sanitatis

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer (also discussed in Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg)

"Polypus" means multi-legged, but the term didn't tell medieval and Renaissance Europeans very much about any other aspect of the animal's body. Decades after this woodcut appeared in Hortus Sanitatis, Olaus Magnus showed the polyp on his map Carta Marina and discussed the animal in his book Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus. But while the map showed an animal that looked like a big lobster, the book described an animal sounded more like an octopus. This image looks like neither. Instead, it looks like the artist took advice along the lines of, "Well, it's a fish with eight legs."

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Year: 1572

Scientist: Gerard Mercator

Originally published in: Europae Descriptio, Emendata

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

The man who gave us the Mercator Projection produced more than a projection. He also produced pictures of sea monsters. This monster looks whimsical, with a face resembling a bird's. Five proboscidian trunks sprout from the sea monster's head, all blowing water, steam or mist. Its back end is a fairly standard-issue coiling sea-serpent tail.

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Year: 1567

Scientist/artist: Giacomo Gastaldi

Originally published in: La Descriptione dela Puglia

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

More whimsical than menacing, this marine creature looks like a friendly mammal that just happens to have webbed feet and live in the ocean. Van Duzer notes that some of Gastaldi's 16th-century maps showed creatures such as camels and elephants on the giant landmass assumed to exist in the Southern Hemisphere — even though naturalists of his time knew that cold conditions likely predominated in both polar regions. Van Duzer remarks, "This abundance of geographically inappropriate monsters in the southern continent confirms the impression that the sea monsters give, namely that Gastaldi (or the buyers of his maps) was interested in monsters purely as exotic decoration, rather than as conveying information about what specific creatures lived in specific distant parts of the world."

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Year: c. 1550

Scientist/artist: Giacomo Gastaldi

Originally published in: Dell'Universale

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

If you like to dine on unlucky sailors, it pays to come equipped with spikes that can puncture ship hulls. Spikes and teeth sharpened, this monster eyes a nearby ship loaded with juicy, crunchy snacks. Van Duzer reports that a similar sea monster figures in André Thevet's Cosmographie , published in 1575.

Year: 1569

Scientist/artist: Giovanni Francesco Camocio

Originally published in: Cosmographia Vniversalis et Exactissima ivxta Postremam Neotericorvm Traditionem

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

Centuries ahead of the Expressionist artist Edvard Munch, an illustrator placed a similarly terrified, screaming face in the Indian Ocean. Because many of the maps rich in sea monsters were prepared for rich armchair travelers — who could afford the extra fees for the clever illustrations — it might be a mistake to assume that this fin-framed face belonged to a creature that anybody truly believed to be real. But monster lore did survive well beyond the late 16th century.

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Year: 1558

Publisher: Michaelis Tramezini

Originally published in: Septentrionalium Regionum Suetiae, Gothiae, Norvegiae, Daniae et terrarum adjacentium recens exactaque descriptio

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

Not only does this sea turtle fly, but it does so in the frigid waters of Northern Europe. This almost-smiling turtle might have been an exaggerated version of a sea turtle with front flippers transformed into wings, but Chet Van Duzer points out that another map published the same year by Arnold Nicolai bore an explanation that it was published "In Antwerp by Arnold Nicolai at the sign of the turtle," and that turtles also appeared around the text that accompanied the map. Van Duzer remarks, "This it seems that in the extravagant flying turtle we are to see a subtle advertisement for the publisher." This cheerful little creature was published by a different individual, but it wasn't the only example of Nicolai's flying turtle being copied; another winged turtle appeared in a map published 20 years later. So a possible advertisement might have been transformed into a creature that at least by some map readers came to regard as real.

Year: 1560

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Icones Animalium

Now appears in: "Monk Seals in Post-Classical History" by William Johnson in Mededelingen No. 39

Cherub-faced seals didn't please Mediterranean fishermen, who considered the animals deformed quadrupeds if not monsters. Yet everybody realized that the seals apparently had enemies of their own, such as the fearsome Ziphius. Here a Ziphius, with a face looking like a cross between an owl's and a worried human's, endures a bite from a porcine sea monster while munching on a hapless seal. The Ziphius might have been based on a killer whale or great white shark.

Century: 13th

Originally published in: Medieval manuscript

Image appears at: A Sawfish Digital image courtesy of the Getty's Open Content Program

Discussed in: Physiologus translated by Michael Curley and Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

In literature and maps from the Middle Ages and Renaissance, creatures known as the swordfish, sawfish and Ziphius "morphed from one animal into another under different names," in the words of Joseph Nigg. Unlike the "rapier-billed" animals known as swordfish and sawfish today, the animals bearing these names during the Renaissance might have been inspired by the orca, or killer whale. And in medieval bestiaries, and the natural-history-as-moral-instruction book Physiologus, the swordfish/sawfish was an entirely different animal. It had wings. "There is an animal in the sea called the swordfish, which has long wings; and, when he sees the ships sailing, he imitates them and raises his wings and strives with the ships as they sail. Growing tired, after racing three or four miles or more, he folds up his wings and the waves carry him back to his former abode where he was at first. The sea is the world, the ships are the prophets and apostles who cross through this world. The swordfish who does not keep pace with the crossing ships represents those who are abstinent for a time but who do not persevere with good pace. These begin with good works but do not persevere to the end because of greed, pride, and love of wicked gain."

Year: 1580

Scientist/artist: Adriaen Coenen

Originally appeared in: Visboek

Image appears at: Adriaen Coenen's Fish Book (1580) in Public Domain Review

Adriaen Coenen was a fisherman and fish auctioneer living in the Dutch village of Scheveningen who made himself an authority on all things fishy. Respected by academics, he obtained some of the best journals of his day, and he replicated much of this material in his "Fish Book," a handmade book complete with ornate frames drawn around the subjects. But rumors repeated by broadsides and pamphlets also found their way into Coenen's book. One of the dubious creatures he described was the "tunnyfish" reputedly caught in the 1560s in the Mediterranean Sea. The fish's remarkable feature, relayed by the material Coenen consulted, was a set of tattoos or drawings that resembled ships. One can only wonder what tattoo parlor the tunnyfish frequented.

Year: 1638

Scientist: Ulisse Aldrovandi

Originally published in: De Piscibus

Now appears in: "Monk Seals in Post-Classical History" by William Johnson in Mededelingen No. 39

Like Conrad Gesner, Aldrovandi passed along his share of misinformation. In published books, misconceptions could multiply because many artists were illiterate. As a result, illustrations didn't always match the written descriptions they accompanied. It's hard to say what's more remarkable about this serpentine sea monster: it's precise aim in dousing a seal with a waterspout from its own head, or its ability to wriggle on the water's surface. Either way, the turtle observing the spectacle appears entertained.

Year: 1741

Scientist/artist: Sven Waxell

Originally published in: Bering's Voyages

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

This image shows, from left to right, a fur seal, a sea lion and a "sea cow." Although all three marine mammals have vaguely humanlike faces with haughty expressions, the accuracy of the sea cow is as good a rendition as we are likely to get. Hydrodamalis gigas, a giant relative of the manatee, was hunted to extinction in less than three decades after its discovery. With this animal, the real goof was wiping it off the face of the Earth.

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Year: 1755

Scientist/artist: Bishop Erik Ludvigsen Pontoppidan

Originally published in: Natural History of Norway

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

Besides believing tales of a "kraken" (an octopus-like creature) 1.5 miles in circumference, Bishop Pontoppidan also believed in sea serpents. In his book on the natural history of Norway, he relayed a description, dating from 1746, of a sea serpent resembling a horse with big black eyes, a long white mane and a body coiled like that of a snake.

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Year: 1848

Originally published in: Illustrated London News

Now appears in: "Richard Owen and the Sea-Serpent" by Brian Regal in Endeavour

In the mid-19th century, the captain and crew of Daedalus were convinced they had seen a sea serpent. Richard Owen was equally convinced they had not. When pressed for a hypothesis on what they had seen, he ventured a sea lion. Owen didn't dismiss "monsters" out of hand, having named a big group of extinct reptiles "deinos sauros" ("terrible lizard"), but he wanted physical evidence. The insistence on physical evidence — a carcass of a dead sea serpent, or a fossilized bone of an extinct one — was a change in common practice when it came to verifying the validity of sea-serpent stories. Such sightings were considered proven if eyewitness accounts could be assembled before a lawyer, judge, or other government official. When respectable citizens vouched for the existence of such a creature and respectable judges ruled their testimony truthful, challenging the monster's existence was bad form indeed.

Century: 19th

Originally published in: Lithograph engraved by J.H. Bufford and Company

Now appears in: "Cryptozoology in the Medieval and Modern Worlds" by Peter Dendle in Folklore

This sea serpent depiction combined realistic details — the eye, teeth, forked tongue, scales, and color patterns — with fancy. How could a serpent coil on top of the water like that? But the background was equally interesting. This giant serpent slithered over the water in close proximity to ships and a densely populated coast. The apparent intent of this lithograph was to argue that sea serpents not only existed, but that they existed in busy shipping lanes.

Year: 1561

Scientist: Gabriel Rebelo

Originally published in: História das Ilhas Maluco

Now appears in: "Secrecy, Ostentation, and the Illustration of Exotic Animals in Sixteenth-Century Portugal" by Palmira Fontes da Costa in Annals of Science

Rebelo's widely circulated manuscript included works by an unknown painter who used a naturalistic style to depict, in this case at least, an unnatural animal. (The artist might have been Rebelo himself.) Rebelo described the fish-cow as a rare specimen that he had only seen once. Although many exotic flora and fauna from Asia were regularly shipped to Lisbon during the 16th century, the Portuguese rarely published descriptions. If news circulated at all, it was usually in manuscript form.

Year: 1577

Scientist/artist: Jan Wierix

Originally published in: Three Beached Whales

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

This 16th-century engraving was actually a pretty good likeness, except for the extra blowhole. Two blowholes emerge from a "nose" that looks like it belongs to a terrestrial mammal. Wierix pictured three stranded whales, several more cetaceans behind them in the ocean and terrified humans fleeing up the beach.

Year: 1872

Scientist/artist: W.E. Webb

Originally published in: Buffalo Land

Now appears in: Oceans of Kansas by Michael J. Everhart

The sea-serpent, snake-like necks on the marine reptiles in this picture have proven implausible. Plesiosaurs might have been able to use their heads as rudders to change direction while swimming, but they couldn't very well swim in a straight line while turning their heads to take in the scenery. But while the curvy necks may have been wrong, the caption accompanying this image about "the sea that once covered the plains" in North America has turned out to be right. Fossil finds of sharks, bony fish, marine reptiles and mollusks have substantiated the hypothesis that a massive, shallow sea once covered the interior of North America.

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Year: 1863

Scientist: Louis Figuier

Originally published in: Earth Before the Deluge

Now appears in: Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World by Martin J.S. Rudwick

Another picture of an ancient reptile sporting a whale-like blowhole is from Figuier's rendition. Not long after Darwin published The Origin of Species , scientists were making an uneasy peace with prehistory. Figuier wrote, "We shall see, in examining the curious series of animals of the ancient world, that the organization and physiological functions go on improving unceasingly, and each of the extinct genera which preceded the appearance of man, present for each organ, modifications which always tend towards greater perfection."

Year: c. 1855

Scientist: Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins

Now appears in: All in the Bones by Bramwell and Peck

The Crystal Palace reconstructions, launched with an Iguanodon-belly dinner party, probably counted among the high points of Waterhouse Hawkins's life, but even as crowds admired his sculptures, some scientists expressed concerns about accuracy. Whether or not those concerns reached the ears of the Crystal Palace Company directors, the company began to face financial trouble, and ended Waterhouse Hawkins's contract in July 1855. Searching for work, he sketched a design for this sea monster fountain. Like some mistaken ichthyosaur and plesiosaur reconstructions in the 19th century, this creature features dual blowholes.

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Year: 1868

Scientist/artist: E.D. Cope

Originally published in: "Fossil Reptiles of New Jersey" in American Naturalist

Now appears in: The Dinosaur Papers by Weishampel and White

Edward Drinker Cope was an early champion of bipedalism in some dinosaurs, and as the 19th century wore on, a growing inventory of theropod fossils would support his argument. But this illustration also shows his initial interpretation of the plesiosaur Elasmosaurus. Cope argued that Elasmosaurus was bigger than Plesiosaurus described decades earlier in Britain. Cope also thought his new plesiosaur genus had a relatively short neck and very long tail, and that it relied more on its long tail than its flippers to move through the water. Cope was wrong. He hadn't found a plesiosaur with a completely different body shape. He had simply mounted the head on the wrong end of the body, a mistake that provided Cope's fossil-hunting rival, O.C. Marsh, a great deal of schadenfreude.

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Year: 1869

Scientist/artist: E.D. Cope

Originally published in: Synopsis of the Extinct Batrachia, Reptilia and Aves of North America

Image provided by: Biodiversity Heritage Library

Cope followed up his "Fossil Reptiles of New Jersey" paper with a book, which included this picture of his mistaken articulation of Elasmosaurus. Given the abundance of extant and extinct reptiles, such as crocodiles, with short necks and long tails, Cope's mistake was kind of understandable. But he might have done himself a favor to give more weight to long-necked plesiosaur fossils found by earlier fossil diggers. His desire to defeat his arch-rival Marsh might have driving his conviction that he'd found something wholly unprecedented.

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Year: 1873

Scientist/artist: John William Dawson

Originally published in: The Story of Earth and Man

Now appears at: Internet Archive

A motley assortment of marine reptiles cozy up with cephalopods in this scene. The caption describing the species didn't quite match with the animals depicted in 1873, but a couple could be easily recognized. On is the ichthyosaur that practically floats on the water surface across the middle of the picture. Another is E.D. Cope's not-yet-corrected, short-necked, long-tailed Elasmosaurus. Near the right edge of the picture, the elasmosaur dangles its forked tongue, goggle eyes staring right at the reader. It's almost a cartoon villain.

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Year: 1897

Artist: Charles R. Knight

Originally published in: The Life of a Fossil Hunter by Charles Sternberg

Now appears at: The Snake-Necked Elasmosaurus (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:The_Snake-necked_Elasmosaurus.jpg)

Edward Drinker Cope first identified the plesiosaur Elasmosaurus and made the significant mistake of placing its head on the end of its tail. Cope apparently based his initial reconstruction on his work with lizards. His mistake had been corrected by the time Charles Knight produced this illustration, but while this picture was far more accurate, it was still problematic. Modern reconstructions of Elasmosaurus indicate that its neck wasn't flexible enough to coil like a snake.

Year: 1843

Scientist: George Richardson

Artist: George Nibbs

Originally published in: Geology for Beginners

Now appears in: Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World by Martin J.S. Rudwick and Fossil Revolution by Douglas Palmer

According to the caption in the original publication, this picture shows "the ichthyosaurus in the act of devouring a fish; the plesiosaurus, which has seized a pterodactyle, or flying reptile, on the wing; together with crocodiles and alligators, which are depicted on the shores. Turtles and tortoises are prowling on the banks, and the waters of this primeval sea are tenanted by corals, shells, crustacea, and fish, appropriate to this peculiar period of the history of nature." Although this image does give the plesiosaur a dragon-like appearance, the scene is much less apocalyptic than other depictions of prehistoric life at the time; this picture looks cheerful, except maybe for the poor creatures becoming meals.

Year: 1851

Scientist: Franz Unger

Artist: Josef Kuwasseg

Originally published in: The Primitive World in Its Different Period of Formation

Now appears in: Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World by Martin J.S. Rudwick

In keeping with the artistic convention of making the prehistoric Earth look perpetually apocalyptic, this scene shows moonlight and menacing clouds over a turbulent sea. Using another artistic convention, the scene shows low tide — enabling the reader to see the sea lilies and shells on the sea floor. The reptile is a Nothosaurus. Modern depictions of the animal look less crocodilian, but this image is in keeping with modern interpretations in showing a semiaquatic animal that could live in water or on land.

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Year: 1883

Artist: A. Demarly

Originally published as: The Plesiosaur and the Ichthyosaur of the Lias Period

Now appears in: Paleoart by Zoë Lescaze

A plesiosaur, an ichthyosaur and an apparent squid engage in a three-way confrontation in a choppy sea under a threatening sky. This late-19th-century engraving upholds a tradition that started decades earlier, according to Zoë Lescaze. She writes, "The study of prehistoric marine reptiles began in the immediate aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, which were characterized by spectacular maritime battles. This context shaped both scientific conceptions and artistic depictions of the aquatic creatures, giving rise to assumptions that they were inherently violent." The plesiosaur appears grouchy. The ichthyosaur looks like a cheerful warrior. The cephalopod's expression is harder to read.

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Year: c. 1895

Inspired by: Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins

Originally published by: Chocolat Suchard

Now appears in: Paleoart by Zoë Lescaze

This plesiosaur's undulating neck and forked tongue were likely inspired by Hawkins's mid-19th-century reconstructions at Crystal Palace. Though this pretty little picture was good enough for a complimentary card issued with candy, paleontological art largely moved on from Hawkins's interpretations in the late 19th century. His career was largely over by the late 1870s. He died in 1894, around the time that a Swiss chocolate company issued this trading card.

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Year: c. 1872

Artist: Archibald Willard

Now appears in: Paleoart by Zoë Lescaze

This livid plesiosaur is a detail from a painting by the same artist who gave us the Spirit of '76 — a drumming, flute-playing trio of patriots in America's Revolutionary War. Exhibiting a dragon-like neck and demon-like anger, this ancient marine reptile has been outfitted with claws rather than the flippers found in actual fossils. It inhabits a canvas populated with other dragon-like prehistoric monsters. Though prehistoric life had been depicted many times in Europe, Lescaze describes Willard's work as the "earliest known oil painting of primordial animals made in North America."

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Year: c. 1911

Artist: Heinrich Harder

Now appears at: Plesiosaur on Land (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:Plesiosaur_on_land.jpg)

Also discussed in: Paleoart by Zoë Lescaze; Marine Reptiles from the Paleobiology Research Group, Department of Earth Sciences, University of Bristol (http://www.palaeo.gly.bris.ac.uk/ Palaeofiles/Pictures/marine/)

Designed in the era of Art Nouveau, the Berlin Aquarium opened to great fanfare in 1913. The Allied bombing of Berlin 30 years later largely flattened the aquarium, which was rebuilt a decade later. In 1977, aquarium director Heinz-Georg Klös found something that, remarkably, had survived World War II: original plans for the bombed-out building. Appealing to the public for saved photos or postcards of the original structure, Klös began a project to recreate murals of prehistoric life. In the early 1980s, the recreations were completed, in flamboyant Miami Vice colors. Harder's surviving plesiosaur picture, alas, lacks the pretty pastels, but preserves what some paleontologists believed in the early 20th century. Some argued that plesiosaurs waddled up onto land to lay eggs, like modern marine turtles. Recent fossil finds suggest that at least some plesiosaurs gave live birth, similar to modern whales.

Year: 1799

Scientist: Barthélemy Faujas de Saint Fond

Originally published in: Montagne de Saint-Pierre

Now appears in: Bursting the Limits of Time by Martin J.S. Rudwick

By the late 18th century, Europe's savants had begun wrapping their brains around the concept of an ancient Earth that had both predated humans by an unimaginable time span and crawled with strange creatures. The savants also hired capable artists and engravers to render accurate depictions of the fossils they found. The year 1780 marked the discovery of an enormous fossil reptile in underground quarries near the Dutch town of Maastricht. Nineteen years later, Faujas published a description of the reptile. The excavation picture may be a little dramatic, but the illustration of the fossil itself is pretty accurate (the oval-shaped objects with the skull are fossil sea urchins). Faujas's interpretation wasn't quite as accurate as the pictures. He classified it as a giant crocodile. Today, the fossil is identified as a mosasaur, an extinct marine reptile. Considering how little was then known about prehistoric life, Faujas's mistake is pretty forgivable.

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Year: c. 1876

Artist: Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins

Originally appeared in: Museum of Natural History, Princeton University

Now appears in: Princeton University Art Museum (http://artmuseum.princeton.edu/ collections/objects/45402)

In this picture of the early Jurassic, Waterhouse Hawkins shows an ichthyosaur almost defying physics, perched at the edge of a waterfall to confront a plesiosaur on the nearest shore. The plesiosaur might be on land for the necessity of laying eggs considering Waterhouse Hawkins painted this picture before paleontologists found evidence of live birth in those marine reptiles. A slightly less forgivable mistake is the plesiosaur's serpentine neck. In the background is a row of similarly snake-necked plesiosaurs (shown in the detail image below) looking like pieces of a Dale Chihuly chandelier.

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Year: 1605-1673

Scientist: Richard Verstegan

Originally published in: A Restitution of Decayed Intelligence in Antiquities

Now appears in: Hathi Trust Digital Library

Richard Verstegan (also known as Richard Rowlands) roamed Europe, writing about antiquities, religion, government and culture in the combustible times of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation. First published at the dawn of the 17th century, and reprinted years after the author's death, A Restitution of Decayed Intelligence in Antiquities Concerning the Most Noble and Renowned English Nation includes the first known illustration of British fossils. But this picture, described as "great bones of fishes found in the earth," actually shows the vertebrae of fossil reptiles, namely plesiosaurs. Verstegan's mistake is understandable considering plesiosaurs lived in the same watery environment as fish. He probably had no trouble identifying the mollusk shells.

Year: 1719

Scientist: William Stukeley

Originally published in: Philosophical Transactions

Now appears in: Erasmus Darwin and Evolution by Desmond King-Hele

In 1718, Charles Darwin's great-grandfather, Robert, found a fossil. Filling a slab about 3 feet long and 2 feet wide, it held 16 vertebrae and nine ribs. Robert Darwin gave the fossil to the Royal Society of London, and William Stukeley wrote a paper about it, which was published the following year. Stukeley described the fossil as "a rarity, the like whereof has not been observ'd before in this Island." He was right about that. He continued that it "cannot be reckon'd Human, but seems to be a Crocodile or Porpoise." He was partially right about that. It wasn't human. But it wasn't a porpoise or crocodile, either, though crocodile wasn't a bad guess. In fact, Charles Darwin's great-grandfather found the first recognized fossil of a Jurassic reptile, one that spent even more of its time in the water that a crocodile would. It was a plesiosaur. A generation later, Charles Darwin's grandfather, Erasmus, would puzzle over fossils turned up in canal excavation, animals only partially resembling modern life forms. Erasmus Darwin would begin to suspect what biologists understand today: Life evolves.

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Year: 1834

Scientist: Thomas Hawkins

Originally published in: Memoirs of Ichthyosauri and Plesiosauri

Now appears in: Internet Archive

Discussed in: The Dragon Seekers by Christopher McGowan and "Thomas Hawkins and Geological Spectacle" by Ralph O'Connor in Proceedings of the Geologists' Association

Thomas Hawkins was passionate about paleontology, eccentric (as the Brits like to euphemize lunacy in affluent people), and sometimes dishonest. Hawkins was convinced he had the world's best collection of Mesozoic marine reptiles, and he might have been right. Writing both men separately, he convinced William Buckland and Gideon Mantell, the men who formally described the first dinosaurs known to science, that his own collection was worth a fortune. Buckland then persuaded the trustees of the British Museum to buy Hawkins's collection, and after the fossils were delivered, museum natural history curator Charles König gave a 25-foot-long ichthyosaur a closer inspection. He soon suspected something was off. The delivered fossil was several feet longer and more complete than the specimen pictured in Hawkins's Memoirs . That image, spanning two pages in Hawkins's collection catalog, is shown here. With the aid of a small knife, König confirmed that Hawkins had "completed" a fin (outlined in black in this image) and several feet of the tail. The ensuing scandal eventually involved the British House of Commons. Just how unethical Hawkins's behavior was is actually open to debate. Aiming to make specimens look complete, many museums supplemented fossils with plaster well into the 20th century. This ichthyosaur is still on display in the Natural History Museum, London.

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Year: 1886

Scientist/artist: Henry Woodward

Originally published in: The Geological Magazine

Now appears in: Resurrecting the Shark by Susan Ewing

Around 1884, a man with the surname of Davis (his first name is lost to history) found a strange, fragmentary fossil in Western Australia. It was curved, and it bore what looked like teeth. Mr. Davis gave the fossil to a naturalist, the Reverend J.G. Nicolay, who passed it along with the request that it be named for its finder. A photo of the fossil, followed up by the object itself, reached the British desk of Henry Woodward, editor of The Geological Magazine . Woodward later recounted, "I readily identified the fossil photographed as the impression of a fish-spine, similar in form, but more highly curved than those . . . originally described by Prof. Leidy as a fish-jaw, and named by him Edestus vorax in 1855." In fact, the good Professor Joseph Leidy had been right about the teeth part. The fossil Woodward identified consisted of teeth, not spines. In fairness, Edestus was not easy to identify. The fossil comprised a curved line of teeth, and it was a pioneering female paleontologist, Fanny Rysam Mulford Hitchcock, who realized that the Edestus fossil was a midline tooth structure. Think about your own teeth. On both your upper and lower jaw, you have two pairs of incisors, a pair of canines, two pairs of premolars, and (depending on whether you've had your wisdom teeth yanked out) two or three pairs of molars. In other words, on both jaws, your teeth come in pairs. In Edestus, there were medial lines of teeth sprouting from the front of the fish. That's kind of weird. Weirder still, though Woodward originally identified this fossil as Edestus davisii, it later proved to be a partial whorl of the spiral-toothed Permian shark Helicoprion. Helicoprion would be described by Alexander Karpinsky in 1899, and reconstructing that species would entail a series of colorful mistakes for more than a century.

Year: 1899

Scientist/artist: Alexander Karpinsky

Originally published in: On the Edestid Remains and its New Genus Helicoprion in Zapiski Imperatorskoy Akademii Nauk

Now appears in: "A New Specimen of Helicoprion Karpinsky, 1899 from Kazakhstanian Cisurals and a New Reconstruction of its Tooth Whorl Position and Function" by O.A. Lebedev in Acta Zoologica

Before the first dinosaurs walked the Earth, a strange breed of sharks swam its oceans. Dating to about 270 million years ago, Helicoprion left few remains for paleontologists, having bodies made of cartilage. What remains have been found defy easy explanation because they consist of teeth arranged in whorls with older, smaller teeth in the middle of the whorl, and newer, bigger teeth around the perimeter. Scientists across Eurasia and North America offered multiple explanations for the odd fossil, and some of the earliest interpretations showed the whorl teeth as defensive weapons, as in this illustration by Karpinsky. More recent interpretations of Helicoprion fossils place the whorl in the lower jaw, teeth facing upward — a circular saw in the mouth. So earlier paleontologists can certainly be forgiven for their misfires; the real animal was hardly less weird than guesses from a century ago.

Year: 1902

Scientist/artist: F. John

Published in: Tiere der Urwelt (http://digital.staatsbibliothek-berlin.de/ werkansicht/?PPN=PPN743975073 &DMDID=DMDLOG_0010)

Discussed in: "Jaws for a Spiral-Tooth Whorl: CT Images Reveal Novel Adaptation and Phylogeny in Fossil Helicoprion" by Tapanila, Pruitt, Pradel, Wilga, Ramsay, Schlader and Didier in Biology Letters

A few years after Kaminsky placed the Helicoprion whorl of teeth on its snout, John showed the whorl protruding from the mouth like a demonic, toothy tongue. How the fish could eat with this thing in the way isn't clear. Other interpretations have placed the whorl on the tip of the tail, or on top of the animal where the dorsal fin would be. The weird whorl teeth have inspired the long-term artistic fascination of fish-and-fossil artist Ray Troll.

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Year: 2014

Scientists: Long Cheng, Xiao-Hong Chen and Qing-Hua Shang in "A New Marine Reptile from the Triassic of China, with a Highly Specialized Feeding Adaptation" in Naturwissenschaften

Artist: © Julius Csotonyi

Appears at: Atopodentatus Will Blow Your Mind INSET

Year: 2016

Scientists: Li Chun, Olivier Rieppel, Cheng Long and Nicholas C. Fraser in "The Earliest Herbivorous Marine Reptile and Its Remarkable Jaw Apparatus" in Science Advances

Artist: Y. Chen © IVPP

Appears at: Ancient Hammerhead Creature May Have Been World's First Vegetarian Sea Reptile

Atopodentatus unicus lived around 244 million years ago in what is now China. Fossil remains described in 2014 were well-preserved, except for the head, where nature played a cruel trick on paleontologists (main image). The fossilization process had apparently folded the animal's mouth, prompting the original team of scientists to hypothesize that the animal fed flamingo style, foraging in the mud for tiny invertebrates. Science writer Brian Switek described the mouth as "a zipper smile of little teeth." In 2016, better-preserved remains of Atopodentatus unicus pushed a serious rethink about the reptile's face (inset). The new interpretation shows a wide, flat, vacuum-style mouth designed to scrape algae off rocks. In fairness to the 2014 research team, the new interpretation is (a) a hammerhead, "a shape previously unknown in the reptilian fossil record," according to Science News, (b) perhaps the oldest recognized marine reptile that subsisted on plants, and (c) still weird, just in a different way.

Year: 1766-1785

Scientist: Buffon

Originally published in: Histoire Naturelle

Now appears in: Buffon by Jacques Roger

The setting — atop a table, in front of a locked chest — might seem strange to the modern viewer, but the animal likely looks familiar. The gentle-looking creature that seems to sport a smile is a manatee. Buffon's pretty accurate rendition of what was possibly an inspiration for some mermaid myths marked a step forward in marine biology.

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Year: 1648

Scientist: Francisco Hernández

Originally published in: Novae Hispaniae Thesaurus

Now appears in: "South American Mammal Diversity and Hernandez's Novae Hispaniae Thesaurus" by Ernesto Capanna in Rendiconti Lincei, April 2009 issue

Pictures like this give the distinct impression that early glimpses of manatees were, indeed, fleeting. This surprised-looking creature — shaped like a stylized seal with muscular cheeks and equine, hoofed legs — actually accompanied a pretty precise, accurate textual description. The illustrator must have employed a great deal of imagination.

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Year: 1817

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

"There was seen on Monday and Tuesday morning playing around the harbor between Eastern Point and Ten Pound Island, a SNAKE with his head and body about eight feet out of water, his head is in perfect shape as large as the head of a horse, his body is judged to be about FORTY-FIVE or FIFTY FEET IN LENGTH." So read a broadside published in Boston about a sea monster sighting in Gloucester, Massachusetts, in 1817. This picture, produced at the time, shows the alleged sea monster. Multiple eye witnesses to sea serpent antics came forward, and a group of boys found what was initially assumed to be the creature's spawn. A naturalist who specialized in reptiles, however, pronounced the baby sea serpent to just be a deformed blacksnake.

Year: 1662

Scientist: Caspar Schott

Originally published in: Physica Curiosa

Now appears in: Visual Cultures of Science edited by Luc Pauwels

Caspar (also known as Gaspar or Kaspar) Schott was a one-time student and long-time collaborator of the German Jesuit polymath Athanasius Kircher. Besides editing and defending Kircher's works, Schott published some of his own. This page from the second volume of his Physica Curiosa shows a motley assortment of sea monsters, including a fish resembling a monk (upper left), a marine monster looking suspiciously like a bishop (lower right), and two chimerical creatures with long, fishy tails. Similar depictions appeared in numerous works in the 16th and 17th centuries. Religious tensions of the time might have contributed to the strong resemblance between alleged monsters and clerical figures.

Year: 1696

Scientist: Johann Zahn

Originally published in: Specula Physico-Mathematico-Historica

Now appears at: NOAA Photo Library Treasures of the Library (http://www.photolib.noaa.gov/ library/index.html)

Toward the end of the 17th century, Johann Zahn published a depiction of a sea monster looking vaguely like a cleric. Zahn relayed the information that this creature was fished out of the icy waters of the Baltic Sea in 1531. Although plenty of "sea bishops" looked formidable if not downright horrifying, this one bore a contemplative expression above his beard. The NOAA Photo Library characterizes this as a "relatively benign merman."

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Year: 1709

Scientist: Franz Reinzer

Originally published in: Meteorologia Philosophico-Politica

Now appears at: NOAA Photo Library Treasures of the Library (http://www.photolib.noaa.gov/ library/index.html)

Influenced by fellow Jesuit Athanasius Kircher, Reinzer compiled a book with a broad scope, including philosophy, meteorology and astrology. In a single illustration, this philosophical tome managed to neatly encapsulate three varieties of maritime mayhem: a storm, a shipwreck and a sea monster. The sea monster looks slightly furry, vaguely porcine and almost cute. Reinzer didn't get to see his book in print; it was published a year after he died.

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Year: 1662

Scientist: Caspar Schott

Originally published in: Physica Curiosa

Now appears at: NOAA Photo Library Treasures of the Library (http://www.photolib.noaa.gov/ library/index.html)

In his Physica Curiosa, Schott included scores of illustrations, many of outlandish creatures, some closer to reality. What real-life animal might have inspired this illustration isn't easy to guess. It has gills, fringes, and a long curling tail, but the predominant feature is its gaping mouth lined with sharp teeth. The teeth are shaped like those of a shark.

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Year: 1820

Scientist: W. Scoresby

Originally published in: An Account of the Arctic Regions with a History and Description of the Northern Whale-Fishery

Now appears at: NOAA Photo Library Treasures of the Library (http://www.photolib.noaa.gov/ library/index.html)

By the 19th century, even the early 19th century, more rational views had taken hold about fish and marine mammals. Scoresby provided a pretty plausible rendition of a Greenland shark (below) and narwhal above. Perhaps in jest, Scoresby described the horned marine mammal as a "Male Narwhal or Unicorn." Indeed, narwhal horns had been mistaken, at least by gullible buyers, as unicorn horns, capable of fending off the effects of poison.

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Year: 1560

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Icones Animalium

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

Gesner was one of the finest naturalists of the 16th century, but he occasionally misfired. In this woodcut, a mother whale and her young look awfully porcine.

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Year: 1539

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Carta Marina

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

The porcine whales in Gesner's books look similar to creatures in Olaus Magnus's map published years earlier. Besides pig-like snouts, they have dual-exhaust-style head spouts. The may key identified them as pristers, and in his book about the region, Olaus warned, "Sea monsters, huge as mountains, capsize the ships if they are not frightened away. . . . The Whirlpool, or Prister, is of the kind of Whales, two hundred Cubits long, and is very cruel." To scare off the monster, Olaus recommended noisy war trumpets or cannons, or pouring lye into the water. He also recommended "casting out huge great Vessels, that hinders this Monsters passage, or for him to play with all." Indeed, the worried sailors in this picture drop big barrels into the sea, perhaps hoping to distract the monsters with playthings. Joseph Nigg surmises that the prister legend might have been inspired by the sperm whale, though sperm whales rarely act as aggressively as Olaus indicated. Whether sperm whales truly measure 200 cubits long depends on how you size a cubit.

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Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: "Monk Seals in Post-Classical History" by William Johnson in Mededelingen No. 39 and Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

Gesner reproduced this picture of a Sea Devil (also called Triton marinus, Dæmon marinus, Satyrus marinus or Pan marinus) because the artist sending him the picture "had seen the monster alive." Gesner noted that one such creature had been captured in Norway and another in Rome. The Roman Sea Devil, he pointed out, didn't have horns. Gesner was such a prolific natural historian thanks largely to a wide network of associates. Unfortunately, many of them were superstitious mariners. This improbable creature is probably based on the monk seal. Once common in the Mediterranean, the species was decimated by human hunting. Fishermen considered the seals a smelly nuisance. So, apparently, did farmers. As Aristotle had a millennium earlier, both Gesner and fellow naturalist Ulisse Aldrovandi passed along accounts of seals raiding orchards.

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Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner and The Book of Fabulous Beasts by Joseph Nigg

This "bearded whale" was originally reported by Olaus Magnus, who described a horned whale looking like "a tree rooted up by the roots." This fanciful depiction might have been inspired by a partial or fleeting view of a real animal, perhaps a giant squid.

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Year: 1694

Scientist/artist: Pierre Pomet

Originally published in: Histoire Générale des Drogues

Now appears in: The Unicorn by Nancy Hathaway

Pomet pictured both a sea unicorn (top) and a narwhal (bottom). Unlike the first creature, the second was real, and its horn was often mistaken — or deliberately passed off — as a unicorn horn, believed capable of curing all kinds of diseases and poisonings. As Europe's upper-crust families showed such a fondness for poisoning their own, such antidotes were always in demand. Not long after Pomet's book was published, the narwhal was identified as a "false unicorn."

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Year: 1560

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Nomenclator Aquatilium Animantium

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

Equipped with wings, this alleged flying fish was based on an illustration in a work by Olaus Magnus describing the northern seas. The face of this creature resembles that of a human more than a fish, with eyes positioned on the front of the head and the bridge of a nose.

Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis, Merchants and Marvels edited by Smith and Findlen and "Foils and Fakes" by Suzanne Magnanini in Marvels & Tales Magazine

Hercules battled with a hydra in ancient Greek mythology, and this imaginary animal has suffered from a rotten reputation ever since. Unfortunately, the hydra has a living relative, of sorts: the octopus. Even now, misconceptions persist about the octopus (also called the "devil fish"), and it has been doomed to play the villain in more than one B movie. Although this illustration only shows seven heads, the hydra was sometimes said to have nine, and two new ones would appear whenever one was chopped off. This depiction of a hydra was typical of the time, i.e., a picture copied from another picture — probably taken from a publication about the Apocalypse. Though he published this image, however, Gesner was very skeptical about the creature's existence.

Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: The Science of Describing by Brian W. Ogilvie

Contrary to what we might guess today, Renaissance naturalists were plenty skeptical about many of the descriptions and illustrations they encountered. Getting by on a small salary in a landlocked country, however, Gesner couldn't see many sea creatures for himself. He had to rely on the work of others, including a book about the northern European ocean by Olaus Magnus. Of Magnus's sea creatures, Gesner wrote, "It seems that he depicted many according to seafarers' tales rather than from life." Still, Gesner published this picture of a walrus. Gesner had a big reservation about it: "Fish don't have feet." He confessed that fins can resemble feet in large fish skeletons, but thought the artist took too many liberties here (which he did). Why would Gesner think of a walrus as a fish? In the 16th century, naturalists weren't just grappling with unusual animals, but with their own methods of classifying them.

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Year: 1635

Scientist/artist: Juan Eusebio Nieremberg

Originally published in: Historia Naturae

Now appears in: The Science of Describing by Brian W. Ogilvie

Gesner suspected that the walrus (which he called "rosmarus") was the same as another creature known as "morss piscis." That was an accomplishment, considering how different they looked. This especially fuzzy, scrappy picture was likely made from a dried skin. Poorly preserved specimens and confusing illustrations meant that the two animals weren't recognized as the same thing until the end of the 17th century. Nieremberg published this illustration in a book about odd creatures, most of them from the New World. A similar looking animal also appeared in an engraving of the naturalist Ferrante Imperato's museum.

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Year: 1555

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

More outlandish than the walrus that Conrad Gesner depicted in 1558 were the mountain-sized animals that Olaus Magnus showed a few years earlier, with curving tusks protruding upward from their lower jaws. His accompanying text was a bit less hyperbolic than the picture, merely comparing their size to that of elephants. Olaus employed both terms in use at the time: rosmarus and morss. "The Norway Coast, toward the more Northern parts, hath huge great Fish as big as Elephants, which are called Morsi, or Rosmari, may be they are so from their sharp biting; for if they see any man on the Sea-shore, and can catch him, they come suddenly upon him, and rend him with their Teeth, that they will kill him in a trice . . . They will raise themselves with their Teeth, as by Ladders to the very tops of Rocks, that they may feed on the Dewie Grasse, or fresh Water, and role themselves in it, and then go to the Sea again . . ." Perhaps Olaus Magnus's source of information on the rosmarus had the bad luck to meet the marine mammals during mating season.

Year: 1516

Scientist/artist: Martin Waldseemüller

Originally published in: Carta Marina

Now appears in: Decoding the Morse: The History of 16th-Century Narcoleptic Walruses by Natalie Lawrence in Public Domain Review

This very quadrupedal creature looks ill-suited to life in the ocean, looking more like an elephant missing its proboscis. Pliny once described a "sea elephant," perhaps in keeping with the long-held belief that every land animal had a marine equivalent. This early-16th-century depiction of the "morsus" might have been based on that belief, or might have resulted from confusion about the correct terminology for walruses. Walrus tusks had been traded for centuries, sometimes carved into exquisite pieces such as the Lewis Chessmen. But, as Lawrence explains, "Nobody except the hunters who killed walruses on the Arctic ice saw living walruses: carcasses were immediately channeled through the marketplaces of Northern European shores, into apothecary shops, curiosity cabinets, and natural histories." To confuse matters even more, Russians occasionally traded mammoth teeth around the same time.

Year: 1555

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

In his map and book on Scandinavia, Olaus Magnus didn't just describe monsters. He wrote about the occasional kind fish as well. This vignette, which resembled a similar picture in his map, shows a swimmer assailed by multiple small troublesome fish while simultaneously aided by the benevolent rockas, or ray. The ray is trying to drive away the smaller fish, which he characterizes as "Sea-Dog fish," and spare the swimmer from drowning. Olaus compared the ray's kind actions to those of the dolphin, also believed to come to the aid of human swimmers in danger.

Year: 1555

Scientist/artist: Olaus Magnus

Originally published in: Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

It's not clear what the sea monster that Olaus Magnus referred to as a prister really was. It might have been inspired by the sperm whale, which is not so aggressive as the porcine animals shown here. Whatever the sea monster was, sailors under attack could deter their cetacean assailants by blowing noisy trumpets, throwing empty barrels sat the animals, or pouring lye into the water. This illustration also shows other hazards mariners faced: mean birds and sucking fish.

Year: 1558

Scientist/artist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

Olaus Magnus's monster-rich sea map included multiple creatures that inspired Conrad Gesner, even when Gesner had his doubts about the accuracy of the original illustration. One such animal was what Gesner termed the "boar whale." Ambroise Paré adapted the popular depiction and pointed out its "scailes set in a wonderfull order." Joseph Nigg speculates that the boar whale shown on Olaus Magnus's map might have been inspired by the walrus, and this animal certainly boasts walrus-style teeth, though they're pointing in the wrong direction. What might have inspired the tapestry-like body pattern remains a mystery.

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Year: 1551

Scientist/artist: Pierre Belon

Originally published in: L'histoire naturelle des estranges poissons marins

Now appears in: "Emergence of Vertebrate Zoology During the 1500s" by Frank N. Egerton in Bulletin of the Ecological Society of America October 2003 issue

In fact, this image provides a pretty accurate rendition of cetacean birth, although the cloud surrounding the baby is somewhat mysterious. At a time when naturalists were still puzzling over classifications of broad groups, however, Belon classified all flying vertebrates as birds and all swimming vertebrates as fish, including those that gave live birth.

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Century: 4th BC

Originally appeared in: Mosaic at Piazza Armerina, Sicily

Now appears in: Monsters: A Bestiary of the Bizarre by Christopher Dell

This Roman mosaic shows realistic fish and quasi-realistic cetaceans, but they surround two less realistic figures. A putto rides a sea monster, one sporting the head of a jackal, a mouth full of sharp teeth and a protruding tongue and, apparently, mutton chops. The sea monster might have been inspired by tempestuous seas as much as by a glimpse of any actual animal.

Year: 1734

Scientist: Albertus Seba

Artist: J. Fortuÿn (coloration)

Originally published in: Thesaurus

Now appears in: "A Diverse and Marvelous Collection" by Müsch, Willmann and Rust in Natural History Magazine , April, 2002 issue and A Cabinet of Natural Curiosities by Albertus Seba

Amsterdam apothecary Albertus Seba portrayed another hydra in the 18th century. Seba had his doubts about its authenticity, but more than one "respectable eye witness" vouched for the accuracy of the stuffed specimen, so he published this picture of it. Seba's mistake is understandable in light of the fact that most genuine animals were either preserved in spirits or stuffed by the time they reached him.

Year: 1758

Scientist: Albertus Seba

Artist: J. Fortuÿn (coloration)

Originally published in: Thesaurus

Now appears in: "A Diverse and Marvelous Collection" by Müsch, Willmann and Rust in Natural History Magazine , April, 2002 issue and A Cabinet of Natural Curiosities by Albertus Seba

Most of Seba's work was more realistic than the hydra. Though some mythological beasts persisted, during the 17th and 18th centuries, scholars began replacing superficial observation of the natural world with more detailed and careful study. Results included this depiction of a cuttlefish, an octopus relative.

Year: 1758

Scientist: Albertus Seba

Artist: J. Fortuÿn (coloration)

Originally published in: Thesaurus

Now appears in: Natural Curiosities from the Cabinet of Albertus Seba by Albertus Seba

This picture doesn't show any egregious errors, only differences between the 18th century and the current day. Most shells are dextral, meaning if you hold the shell so the spire is up and the aperture is facing you, the aperture will usually be on your right side. In these shells, the aperture is flipped. Seba didn't accidentally flip every shell; printing techniques of the time produced mirror images. What's probably more striking is the artistic representation. This circular arrangement was actually part of a larger ornate page of mollusks. In Seba's day, the line between science and art was pretty fuzzy, but it arguably made the science more entertaining.

Year: 1605

Scientist: Carolus Clusius

Originally published in: Exoticorum Libri Decem

Now appears in: Merchants and Marvels edited by Smith and Findlen

The trouble with trying to identify exotic species of blowfish from remote regions was that savants had to rely on dried specimens of dubious preservation. Working in the Netherlands, Clusius admitted that he couldn't dissect the fish to see their internal organs. Some of his contemporaries were starting to do just that, recognizing that superficial characteristics didn't tell the whole story. In the case of these blowfish, each woodcut represents what Clusius identified as a distinct species, but they were probably all the same species — preservation problems made them look so different.

Year: 1758

Scientist: Albertus Seba

Artist: J. Fortuÿn (coloration)

Originally published in: Thesaurus

Now appears in: Natural Curiosities from the Cabinet of Albertus Seba by Albertus Seba

Seba portrayed a puffer fish, along with other denizens of the sea in his Thesaurus . Like other naturalists, Seba frequently relied on dried specimens. As in other illustrations he produced, this depiction shows an improvement over work from the previous century, although Seba gave the fish a strangely expressive face.

Year: 1709

Scientists/artists: Athanasius Kircher and Filippo Buonanni

Originally published in: Musæum Kircherianum

Now appears in: The Ecstatic Journey by Ingrid D. Rowland

The 17th-century German Jesuit polymath Athanasius Kircher established a fabulous museum in Rome, filled with antiquities, speaking tubes, odd animals and fossils. Some of these "wonders" were too fantastic to be true. (Kircher believed every story he ever heard about someone catching a dragon — assuming that someone was a pope.) But much of what he collected was absolutely real. These fish carcasses and shark teeth must have looked outlandish to the visitors to Kircher's museum, but fish like these swim in the sea today. After Kircher died, Buonanni took over his collection and published a catalog in the early 18th century. These images from the catalog show some 18th-century progress in accurately depicting sea life.

Year: 1667

Scientist/artist: Niels Stensen

Originally published in: Canis Carchariae Dissectum Caput

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis and Fossils: Evidence of Vanished Worlds by Yvette Gayrard-Valy

Strange as it looks by today's standards, this picture of a dissected head of a giant white shark actually marked significant progress in marine biology. For years, fossilized shark teeth were believed to be tongues of serpents turned to stone by Saint Paul, and hence were named glossopetrae, or "tongue stones." Niels Stensen correctly identified tongue stones as shark teeth, though he was not the first person in history to do so. In fact, Steno's picture was derived from a 16th-century unpublished work by papal physician Michele Mercati.

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Year: 1670

Scientist/artist: Agostino Scilla

Originally published in: Vain Speculation Undeceived by Sense

Now appears in: "Agostino Scilla: A Baroque Painter in Pursuit of Science" by Paula Findlen in Science in the Age of Baroque

Although Steno's depiction of a dissected shark head was a step forward in scientific accuracy, Scilla felt he could improve upon Steno's work. Scilla was an accomplished painter and a coin collector. He believed — and informed his readers — that his experience in these fields gave him insights into fossils and other natural specimens that others could not. Rare were the ancient coins that depicted the same emperor and came from the same mint. Likewise, rare were the human faces that looked the same. Where others perhaps saw uniformity in sharks and their teeth, Scilla saw individuality. He delivered detailed depictions to different kinds of sharks, including a hammerhead, advancing accuracy even a little further than Steno.

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Year: c. 1775

Artist: Nicolaus Mettel

Originally published as: The True Picture of a Sea Dragon or Sea Wonder, which has 384 Teeth in its Jaws

Now appears in: Curious Beasts by Alison E. Wright

In contrast to the sober assessments of shark heads by Steno and Scilla from the previous century, this 18th-century etching of a dried shark head was much more sensational, with a name to match. The so-called sea dragon's eye leers at the viewer, perhaps sizing up a potential meal. The title and picture highlighted an accurate feature of the shark's anatomy: multiple rows of sharp teeth. This depiction's sensationalism likely had a shrewd purpose. It might have been an advertisement for the display of this creature at the 1775 Frankfurt Easter Fair.

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Year: 1558

Scientist/artist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears at: NYAMHistory (https://twitter.com/NYAMHistory/ status/1155856013100298240)

The New York Academy of Medicine kicked off 2019's Shark Week by tweeting Gesner's illustration of a great white shark. This doesn't look much like the animal we watched through our fingers in Jaws , most likely because it shows a dried specimen. This one's teeth, though still menacing, look longer and narrower than typical shark teeth. NYAMHistory points out that the animal bore two different identifications in Gesner's book: canis carcharias and lamia.

Year: 1648

Scientist/artist: Ulisse Aldrovandi

Originally published in: Musaeum Metallicum

Now appears in: "The Geology Collections in Aldrovandi's Museum" by Carlo Sarti in Four Centuries of the Word Geology

Sixteenth-century naturalist Ulisse Aldrovandi correctly rejected the notion that the biblical 40-day flood could embed shells inside the rocks of mountain ranges. He incorrectly endorsed the idea that fossils could grow in place from inorganic processes making crude imitations of living things. He clung to this belief even when he was astonished by the exquisite details of fossil fish. But fossilization was hardly understood in his day. (Aldrovandi lived a century before Stensen; Musaeum Metallicum was published more than 40 years after Aldrovandi's death). He didn't connect glossopetrae to sharks, but instead recommended them as an antidote for snake venom, to be mixed in wine or water.

Year: c. 520-510 BC

Now appears in: "A Ketos in Early Athens: An Archaeology of Whales and Sea Monsters in the Greek World" by Papadopoulos and Ruscillo in American Journal of Archaeology and "Monk Seals in Antiquity" by Johnson and Lavigne in Mededelingen No. 35

This artifact, photographed from a private collection, shows a Greek hero fighting a creature known as the ketos. Showing some characteristics of sea serpents (frilly back and gaping, toothy mouth) and some of whales (flippers and a whale fin) might have been inspired by a glimpse of an actual whale. The fanciful depiction of this creature, however, contrasts with the accurate renditions of dolphins, an octopus and even a seal. The seal, mostly likely a monk seal, turns out to be a far more accurate rendition than most of the pictures that would follow in succeeding centuries.

Year: c. 130 BC

Now appears in: Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

The ketos figured prominently in Greco-Roman lore. Poseidon was said to have produced multiple sea creatures with his sea-nymph queen Amphitrite. Meaning "sea monster or very large fish," the term "ketos" apparently first appeared in Homer's epics, when Odysseus worried about an attack from one of Amphitrite's troublesome pets. This crested ketos carries a sea nymph on the silver lid of a circular container known as a pyxis. It was found at Canosa di Puglia, Italy.

Century: 1st BC

Now appears in: The Murderous, Sometimes Sexy History of the Mermaid (http://www.wired.com/2014/10/ fantastically-wrong-strange-murderous -sometimes-sexy-history-mermaid/) and Demetrius III Coin (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:DemetriusIIICoin.png)

Whatever real animal might have inspired the mermaid legend, a creature that is human above and fishy below the waist may also have had numinous roots. The earliest religious inspiration for the mermaid could be Atargatis, an ancient Syrian goddess associated with water and charged with safekeeping her worshippers' overall welfare. Belief in the goddess spread, eventually adopted by Greek culture. This crude but recognizable Atargatis came to share coin space with Demetrius III.

Year: 1754

Scientist/artist: Louis Renard

Originally published in: Poissons, Ecrevisses et Crabes

Now appears in: Renard's Book of Fantastical Fish (http://blog.biodiversitylibrary.org/ 2016/08/renards-book-of- fantastical-fish.html)

Just about every fish and arthropod appearing in Renard's book is "embellished" in some way, many with unusually bright colors, some with happy faces, some with odd proportions. But according to modern ichthyologist Theodore Pietsch, Renard's book should not be written off as worthless. Not only does it provide a picture of natural history in Renard's time, it also gives a picture, albeit a distorted one, of wildlife in the waters around Ambon, Indonesia. As those ocean waters are now polluted, Renard's book offers our only clues about much of the wildlife around Ambon in the 18th century. That said, almost 10 percent of the species shown in his book are imaginary. And here's a mermaid.

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Year: c. 1500 BC

Now appears in: "The Most Ancient Explorations of the Mediterranean" by Marco Masseti in Proceedings of the California Academy of Sciences

This pretty little dolphin puts to shame some dolphin depictions that follow by more than 2,500 years. It appears as a decoration on a blade from the Late Helladic I period, now on display at the National Museum in Athens. This image suggests that observations of dolphins were more factual than fanciful several centuries before Homer composed his epic poems. In fact, Mesolithic hunter-gatherers likely traveled the Mediterranean Sea some 13,000 years ago, so locals had plenty of time to learn about the region's wildlife. Modern biologists suspect that this cetacean might be the striped dolphin, or Stenella ceruleoalba.

Year: 1514

Scientist/artist: Albrecht Dürer

Originally appeared in: Arion

Now appears in: Nature and Its Symbols by Lucia Impelluso, translated by Stephen Sartarelli

According to the Greek legend, the gifted singer Arion was tossed overboard by sailors who wanted to steal his stuff. By the time he was thrown into the sea, however, he had bewitched a dolphin who came to his rescue. This dolphin sports more protuberances than any seen in nature, but in fairness to Dürer, who was known for his realism, the fact that he was illustrating a legend may have given him a greater sense of artistic license.

Year: 1868

Originally published in: Harper's Weekly

Now appears in: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

This "wonderful fish" described in Harper's Weekly was later identified as a basking shark, and the depiction is reasonably accurate if you ignore the legs. The shark had partially decomposed by the time it was described, and that may have lead to the assumption that it was a sea monster with legs. The colossal size is no mistake. Basking sharks are among the largest fish alive today, and can measure up to 40 feet.

Year: 1802

Scientist/artist: Pierre Denys de Montfort

Originally published in: Historie Naturalle Générale et Particulière des Mollusques

Now appears in: Sketches of Creation by Alexander Winchell and Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis

Denys de Montfort bragged that if this representation were swallowed, he would next represent a cephalopod embracing the Straits of Gibraltar. Seventy years later, Alexander Winchell did two admirable things: He called Denys de Montfort's depiction a sailor's yarn, but also suggested, "the unexplored depths of the ocean conceal the forms of octopods that far surpass in magnitude any of the species known to science." Winchell was right on both counts.

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Year: 2011

Scientists: Mark and Dianna McMenamin

Appears in: Giant Kraken Lair Discovered (http://www.eurekalert.org/ pub_releases/2011-10/ gsoa-gkl100611.php)

At the annual meeting of the Geological Society of America (GSA) in October 2011, Mark McMenamin made an unbelievable announcement: A heap of Triassic ichthyosaur bones in Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park, Nevada, was the work of a 100-foot-long giant cephalopod, or kraken. The kraken killed the ichthyosaurs, carried them home, munched away their squishy parts then daintily arranged their vertebrae into a self portrait of its own suckers. While horrified fellow paleontologists realized this was not a story from The Onion, breathless journalists whose idea of journalism is repeating press releases of even the most outlandish claims without getting second opinions spread the news of the giant, sadistic, artistic kraken. Skepticism crept into news reports a day or so later, including the headline "Smokin' Kraken" and "Scientist Definitively Proves Existence of Hyper-Intelligent Mythical Octopus." Was McMenamin joking? Could he really be serious? At the GSA's previous two annual meetings, biblical literalists presented talks and led field trips. So maybe this was bound to happen.

Year: 1573-1585

Scientist: Ambroise Paré

Originally published in: Des Monstres

Now appears in: Similar depictions appear in Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis and On Monsters and Marvels by Ambroise Paré, translated by Janis Pallister

Called a both sea eagle and a flying fish, this was probably a "Jenny Haniver," a forgery made by mutilating a ray to resemble a winged sea monster with a human head. The trick worked, and Ambroise Paré recounted a second-hand tale of how a live specimen was presented to the lords of the city of Quioze. The origin of the name "Jenny Haniver" is unknown, but the first known illustration of one dates from the 16th century.

Year: 1854

Scientist: Japetus Steenstrup

Now appears in: The Search for the Giant Squid by Richard Ellis

In the 16th century, two naturalists, Rondelet and Pierre Belon, produced descriptions of animals they termed the Sea Monk, or monk-fish. (Historian William M. Johnson has noted that the sea monk bears a striking resemblance to Saint Francis of Assisi.) Centuries later, a very talented naturalist, Japetus Steenstrup, gave a presentation in which he compared Rondelet's illustration (on the left) and Belon's illustration (on the right) to the likeness of a squid captured in 1853. He also took into consideration a 16th-century description of the Sea Monk by Conrad Gesner. Steenstrup made an amazing deduction: "Could we, given these bits of information of how the Monk was conceived at that time, come so near to it that we could recognize to which of nature's creatures it should most probably be assigned? The Sea Monk is firstly a cephalopod."

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Year: 1642

Scientist/artist: Ulisse Aldrovandi

Originally published in: Monstrorum Historia

Now appears in: Cabinets of Curiosities by Patrick Mauriès

An amazingly prolific Renaissance man, Aldrovandi sometimes exhibited what the 18th-century naturalist Buffon would later describe as "a tendency towards credulity." Of the stingray, Aldrovandi observed, "They love music, the dance and witty remarks." Exactly how stingrays exhibited their affection for these niceties is unknown.

Year: 1575

Scientist/artist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Historia Animalium

Now appears in: Shark by Dean Crawford

While Ulisse Aldrovandi devoted an entire volume to sea monsters, Conrad Gesner offered more restrained accounts, even though some of his own depictions were awfully serpent-like. This page from one of his books shows a hammerhead shark and the tooth of a white shark. In Gesner's day, sharks were commonly known as "seadogs" or "dogfish," and of the "sledgedog," he wrote, "It eats all kinds of fish, and will also swallow and tear apart swimming people. When sighted, it is considered a sign of hateful bad luck." Gesner and Aldrovandi continued a Western tradition dating back to Ancient Greece of demonizing sharks. If their legends are any indication, however, Pacific islanders — who spent much more time around the animals — respected sharks more than they loathed them, and deified some sharks. Pacific islanders told stories about shark gods somewhat similar to stories about Greek gods; the deities were fallible and complicated. But shark deities exhibited their worst behavior not as unalloyed sharks, but as shark-human hybrids.

Year: 1558

Scientist/artist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Historia Animalium

Now appears in: Shark: In Peril in the Sea by David Owen

This rendition of an angel shark is not entirely without foundation. Angel sharks have pectoral finds resembling angel wings. This image, however, shows a body resembling a tetrapod and a strangely human face.

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Year: 1569

Originally published in: The True Discripcion of this Marueilous Straunge Fishe

Now appears in: Shark: In Peril in the Sea by David Owen

This image of what was likely a thresher shark shows a fish with a tail as long as its body. After fisherman accidentally netted the animal, its skin was stuffed and displayed in London. This broadside followed, explaining that "sertayne English Fissher men" inadvertently captured the odd creature while it was "folowynge after the scooles of Mackrell" that the fishermen also sought.

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Year: 1613

Scientist/artist: Ulisse Aldrovandi

Originally published in: De Piscibus

Now appears in: The Great Naturalists edited by Robert Huxley

Aldrovandi sometimes combined impressive realism (a recognizable shark) with puzzling chimera. The fish on the bottom has a mammal-like face with a saw protruding from the head, dragon-like scales, fishy fins and flippers.

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Year: 1807

Authors: Goldsmith and Mary Pilkington

Originally published in: History of the Earth and Animated Nature, Abridged

Image provided by: Biodiversity Heritage Library (some rights reserved)

Two centuries after a similar picture appeared in Aldrovandi's work, this odd sea creature appeared in an abridged version of Oliver Goldsmith's natural history, "with plates." This illustration bears a label, for the "Nar-Whale," or narwhal. Looking at this picture, you might think knowledge hadn't advanced much between Aldrovandi's and Goldsmith's lifetimes, but the most egregious errors about the narwhal were apparently confined to the plate. The 1807 edition of Goldsmith's book provided a much more accurate textual description of the narwhal, including the observation that its tusk was really a tooth.

Year: 1638

Scientist/artist: Ulisse Aldrovandi

Originally published in: De Animalibus Insectis Libri Septem

Now appears in: "Ancient Scientific Basis of the 'Great Serpent' from Historical Evidence" by Richard B. Stothers in Isis June 2004 issue

For his portrayal of this beast, Aldrovandi relied on accounts from Antiquity. In the third century, the natural historian Aelian relayed the tale of the Scolopendra cetacea, a creature so fearsome that "if cast up on the shore no one would have the courage to look at it." These sea monsters, he claimed, had "numerous feet in line on either side as though they were rowing themselves." The name for this animal was derived from a common sea scolopendra, a type of centipede, but the creature Aelian described was much larger. It might have been based on observations of a real animal, such as a whale or giant squid. The feet aren't easily explained, but an animal causing ripples on the water's surface might have been assumed to have numerous feet.

Year: 1554-1555

Scientist/artist: Guillaume Rondelet

Originally published in: Libri de Piscibus Marinis

Now appears in: Matters of Exchange by Howard J. Cook

Guillaume Rondelet was one of the most highly regarded naturalists of his day, and his book on marine fishes became famous. Although ornate, this ray didn't appear to possess the same cultural graces as the one Aldrovandi described. Rondelet worked closely with local fishermen who brought him specimens, and he even built tanks and piped water into them to better observe the fish.

Century: 17th

Now appears in: The Discovery of Time edited by Stuart McCready

Taken from a 17th-century collection of fossil illustrations, this looks like a cross between a dolphin and a plant.

Year: 1734

Scientist/artist: Hans Egede

Originally published in: Full and Particular Relation of my Voyage to Greenland, as a Missionary, in the year 1734

Now appears in: Dragons, Unicorns, and Sea Serpents by Charles Gould

Egede wrote, "On the 6th of July 1734, when off the south coast of Greenland, a sea-monster appeared to us, whose head, when raised, was on level with our main-top. Its snout was long and sharp, and it blew water almost like a whale; it has large broad paws; its body was covered with scales; its skin was rough and uneven; in other respects it was as a serpent; and when it dived, its tail, which was raised in the air, appeared to be a whole ship's length from its body."

Year: 1883

Scientist: Henry Lee

Originally published in: Sea Monsters Unmasked

Now appears in: Olaus Magnus's Sea Serpent by Joseph Nigg in Public Domain Review

The sea serpent that Hans Egede thought he glimpsed made another appearance in the late 19th century, along with a possible explanation. The caption for the bottom image reads, "The animal which Egede probably saw." Sea serpent sightings persisted through the 19th century, and Lee wasn't the only one offering level-headed explanations. Antoon Cornelius Oudemans suggested that the sea monster legends could have been the outcome of sightings of marine mammals, sharks, squid or other known species. But whereas Lee suggested that the giant sea serpent described in the 16th century by Olaus Magnus was a probably big squid, Oudemans thought Olaus really intended to depict a big snake.

Year of sighting: 1872

"Witness": Captain A. Hassel

Now appears in: Mythic Creatures by Kendall, Norell and Ellis

A member of Captain Hassel's crew drew a sea serpent illustration (top) after the captain claimed to see a giant serpent with "four fins on its back" not far from his ship, off the coast of Galveston, Texas. When the eyes see something unfamiliar, the brain often fills in the details, not always accurately. Kendall, Norell and Ellis speculate that what the captain might really have seen was a line of cetaceans breaching the water surface, such as the pod of dolphins in the photograph (bottom).

Century: 10th

Scientist/artist: Richard Fournival

Originally appeared in: Bestiaire d'Amour of Richard Fournival

Now appears in: The Birth and Development of the Geological Sciences by Frank Dawson Adams

Here two sailors cook their dinner on the back of a whale so big that they have mistaken it for an island and landed on it. Descriptions of island-sized whales were common in Classical times as well as the Middle Ages.

Century: 13th

Originally appeared in: Beastiary now housed in the Bodleian Library, Oxford

Now appears in: Nature and Its Symbols by Lucia Impelluso and Stephen Sartarelli

One legend about whales circulated by medieval Europeans was that the cetaceans could simply open their mouths and emit a sweet fragrance (sweet to fish, anyway). The hapless fish would swim right into the trap. Never missing a moral of the story, the storytellers pointed out that faithless pleasure-seekers would be trapped by the devil in similar fashion.

Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

Naturalist Conrad Gesner also portrayed a whale big enough to be mistaken for an island by hapless sailors. While the sailors cook their meal over a fire on its back, this porcine cetacean messes with their ship. In all likelihood, by the time Gesner described this creature, knowledgeable Europeans no longer believed in whales of such monstrous size, although whales of monstrous appearance still appeared frequently in print.

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Year: 1621

Scientist/artist: Honorius Philoponus

Originally published in: Novi Orbis Indiae Occidentalis

Now appears in: The Book of Fabulous Beasts and Sea Monsters by Joseph Nigg

The whale-as-island made another appearance in this 17th-century engraving. It shows the whale, Jasconius, in an account of the voyage of Saint Brendan. Some of the monks were preoccupied with mass when the nature of the island became obvious.

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Year: 1558

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: De Piscium & Aquatilium Animantum Natura

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

Like other whale depictions from Gesner's era, this may have been based on a glimpse of the real creature, perhaps a small cetacean.

Year: 1560

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: Nomenclator Aquatilium Animantium

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

In Gesner's time, besides the diminutive fish we know today (left), many Europeans believed in a different kind of "seahorse" (left). These pictures are obviously not on the same scale.

Year: c. 1225-1250

Originally appeared in: Ashmole Bestiary

Now appears in: Abominable Science! by Loxton and Prothero

The fish with a horse's head, the hippocamp, started out as art. Artists of the Classical world apparently thought that hippocamps looked cool pulling Poseidon's chariot. Over the centuries, these horse-fish hybrids came to be regarded as real, appearing in maps by Olaus Magnus and Abraham Ortelius among others. In the Christian moral instruction book Physiologus , the hippocamp, sometimes known as Hydrippus, symbolized Moses. Eventually it was demoted to regular sea creature, sometimes grouped with cetaceans. In this colorful medieval illumination, the hippocamp inhabits a fish-eat-fish world.

Year: c. 1250

Originally published in: Northumberland Bestiary

Image appears at: Fish and Sea Monsters Digital image courtesy of the Getty's Open Content Program

These charming little animals appear in a larger illustration of marine life. The larger picture includes plenty of plausible if not recognizable fish, including a flounder and a moray eel. But this snippet of the picture shows more exotic animals. The one in the upper right corner looks like a flying fish, which is an actual thing. In the lower left and right corners are water bugs. The one on the left might be inspired by a crustacean; the one on the right looks like a colorful water beetle with a pug nose. In between them lurks a very sad-looking little fish.

Century: 13th

Originally appeared in: Bestiary (Westminster Abbey, MS 22)

Now appears in: Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps by Chet Van Duzer

This scaly fish bearing humanlike face with an angry expression is meant to be a dolphin. Considering dolphins turn out to be intelligent mammals, the combination of traits in this picture aren't altogether off. It's just that dolphins don't look like this.

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Year: 1658

Scientist: Conrad Gesner

Originally published in: The History of Four-footed Beasts and Serpents

Now appears in: Curious Woodcuts of Fanciful and Real Beasts by Conrad Gesner

One of the beasts rumored to exist in Gesner's day was the sea wolf. According to the lore of the time, the sea wolf "liveth both on sea and land." Whether this woodcut shows the creature on sea or land is not obvious, but perhaps a wolf that could live as easily in the sea as it could on land could also walk on water. (This woodcut was published about a century after some of Gesner's other works by Edward Topsell in London.)

Year: 1861

Author: Pierre Boitard

Originally published in: Paris Before Men

Now appears in: Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World by Martin J.S. Rudwick

Boitard offered his readers a first-person tour of the early Jurassic Period (then referred to as the Liassic). Accompanied by a magician who could transport him back in time, the narrator saw prehistoric monsters fleshed out and up close. The plesiosaur announced itself with a "menacing whistle," and, the narrator recounted, "I recoiled in terror on seeing the scaly head of a horrible reptile looking at me with flashing eyes. Its open mouth with sharp teeth menaced me with a forked sting; its neck was of a prodigious length, like a cable, or rather like a huge snake . . ." So the humans in this scene are just a way of telling the story. But plesiosaurs almost certainly couldn't coil their necks, snakelike, around trees. And what's it doing on land anyway?

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Year: c. 1475

Scientist/artist: Vincent of Beauvais

Originally published in: Mirror of History

Now appears in: Beasts: Factual and Fantastic by Elizabeth Morrison © J. Paul Getty Museum

In antiquity, the sea monster Scylla was believed to have a dozen feet and half a dozen heads — each with three rows of teeth. Here, she is simplified, looking perfectly respectable from the neck down. The sirens, in contrast, look normal from the waist up, but sport chicken legs and wings. In both cases these sea monsters touch upon the beastly nature that medieval Europeans often attributed to the fairer sex.

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