For time immemorial, word has been passed down from father to son about an eel-like creature of immense proportions lurking in the depths of Lake Bumbunga. Once in a generation, when the silvery moon shines just right upon the lagoon, a terrified local may catch a glimpse of the Loch-Eel Monster and run frantically into the hinterland. Then, once more, nothing.
Deciding that the good people of Lochiel had suffered enough, Gordon and I donned our detective caps and travelled into the wilderness to investigate this ages-old mystery. Well, I popped on an audacious cultural headdress whilst Gordon championed an understated, windswept motif, but you don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to discover that we looked fabulous!
Approaching the rolling hills 90 minutes north of Adelaide, we hoped our bravery would allow this proud community to eel their damaged hearts. With scuba tanks and searchlights, we set about the arduous task of locating this elongated fish.
Well, it turns out the Loch-Eel Monster was actually pretty easy to find. He is, after all, four metres high and 10m long metres long, and sits in the middle of a bone-dry, iridescent pink, salt lake. Despite all reports, he’s a friendly chap, and it’s not unusual to find dozens of bewitched visitors posing for cute selfies with the beast.
‘Lochie’, as he’s known by his legion of admirers, has become a much-loved feature of this bizarre and beautiful region. But his backstory is every bit as bonkers as he is.
Can you eel the love tonight?
Lochie can trace his fam-eel-y tree back to a similar, if cruder, Big that was built back in the mid-80s. Known, amusingly, as the Lochiel Ness Monster, this critter was constructed from car tyres and simply appeared one night.
Despite her grotesque appearance, ‘Nessie’ wriggled her way into the hearts of the community. Her popularity caught the attention of local mechanic Wayne Dennis, who saw an opportunity to app-eel to an even larger audience.
“Just about everyone who goes past Lochiel knows the one that’s out there with the tyres,” Wayne told an bew-eel-dered reporter. “My mum used to live at Lochiel and, after I’d heard the monster’s head had gone missing, I thought, well, this could be a good time to make something better and put it closer to the town. I thought if we can make something bigger, it’ll put Lochiel on the map.”
Wait a second, Wayne, don’t plonk the entire town of Lochiel on Map – he’s strong, but not that strong!
“So, I started thinking about what I could make it out of. Originally, I was going to use a TV tower, and thread all these tyres on there. I knew it had to be a cross between a Loch Ness Monster and a prehistoric eel because the town’s called Loch-Eel.”
Very droll, Wayne, but I’m the one who tells the jokes around here!
Fortunately, Wayne didn’t have to beg, borrow and eel to finance the project. He negotiated a good eel with the local council, who slithered in with a sizeable grant. He built his snazzy serpent from fibreglass and paper mâché, wrapped around a stainless-eel rod and wire mesh.
This brave man rarely slept, so consumed was he by his passion project. He barely even stopped for his evening eel – teehee!
Even better than the eel thing
A true savant of the Bigs, Wayne did things his own way as he forged ahead with the Loch-Eel Monster.
“I had a red reflector, the same as what’s on the signposts on the road,” he revealed. “I thought that would make a good eye. So, I made the whole thing in proportion to that. The mouth opens and shuts. I’ve made a funnel, so that when the wind blows, it opens the mouth, and when the wind stops, it shuts.
“I also wanted to make it high enough so that if you’re standing in front of it, you can’t reach up and pull on its mouth.”
So remember, guys, loch but don’t touch!
You need a thick skin to be an aesthetically-pleasing ray-finned fish in a rural community on the edge of the outback, and Lochie has that in spades.
“I’d never fibre-glassed anything in my life before”, Wayne pontificated. “The skin actually turned out right because it wasn’t all smooth; it was sort of rough. With the help of grey and black paint, it made it look like skin.”
Yes, when it comes to creating eerily-lifelike Bigs, Wayne was determined to reinvent the eel.
The eels on the bus go round and round
The completed sculpture was plonked onto twin trailers and carted out to the salt flats. Locals could barely conc-eel their excitement about having their very own Big! But how to ensure Lochie wouldn’t eel over in a strong breeze?
“I spent lots of nights thinking about how we were going to put it in the ground,” Wayne explained. “In the end, I came up with the idea of digging holes, putting tractor tyres in there, and backfilling them with dirt.
“Tractor tyres won’t rot away – they’ll last forever – and there are stainless-steel rods going through it. So, hopefully, it’ll last a long time because it’s in real salty water.”
Wayne, your eerily-eel-istic masterpiece shall terrify and tantalise generations to come. The majestic Loch-Eel Monster makes for a truly surr-eel sight in the midst of a flaming fuchsia fields. Yes, Lochie certainly gets my eel of approval!
Eel the world, make it a better place
Lake Bumbunga, with its salmon-hued salt flats, provides a breathtaking and, at times, confronting backdrop for an encounter with Lochie. It’s a quiet place, an ancient place, where the crackle of one’s own feet crunching across the sodium crystals can create a cacophony.
The setting of the sun is a time of spiritual awakening at the lake. With the mystery of the Loch-Eel Monster solved, Gordon and I relaxed on banana lounges upon the roseate landscape and, drinks in hand, watched a rich tapestry of stars roll out across the sky. For the two of us, it provided a moment of quiet contemplation
Lochie’s mouth opened and closed gently in the breeze, and I plucked several granules of salt from the lakebed to add to my decadent goblet of caramel and pomegranate liqueur.
“You know, Bigs,” Gordon said sleepily, before taking a contemplative sip from a margarita glass rimmed with coral-coloured salt. “I think we have a good life.”
“Me too,” I smiled.
“Me three,” came a surprisingly soft voice from the immense eel who towered above us. The three of us laughed as the Milky Way blazed above us, and all was well in the universe.
