Turtles five feet across! Early animal oddities that made the Sault . . . er . . . famous

From the archives of the Sault Ste. Marie Public Library:

Over the years, Sault Ste. Marie been known for many things – including as the source of strange animal anecdotes in the news. Some of the stories were relatively tame: a wolf leisurely walking downtown, a beaver spotted in a residential area, a moose “[making] a salad” of someone’s garden, a “plague” of groundhogs.

Some, however, were more dramatic – and sometimes, their truthfulness was even thrown into question.

In 1928, the Globe published what they called “another chapter in ‘Tales from Soo,’” describing details in “the weird history of the Sault’s hinterland.” While it was apparently not the first weird nature story to come out of the area, it was, according to the Globe, the most interesting.

Their source was a prospector from Sault Ste. Marie working out in Bruce Mines. His initial story involved “speckled trout 28 inches long and lizards 3 feet long” as well as “a cave in which he and a companion found human bones and antiquated muskets.”

As the story garnered a little more attention, he also added another animal to his tale: turtles “with shells 5 feet across and 7 feet in length… [that resembled] an overturned boat.”

And, while the Globe did publish his account, they speculated that it may have been exaggerated, with part of the headline reading, “Ye olde prospector enlargeth!”

In 1930, the Globe published a story describing how “the bear that walks like a boy, and is addicted to tobogganing, has appeared at the Sault and taken possession of the slides – according to [dispatches] from that city.” The paper, apparently not believing the news, also added that “Unfortunately, the veracity of Sault correspondents, when it comes to animal stories, has been on the toboggan for some time.”

One Sault resident, who claimed to have seen the bear, resented the implication that this story was made up. The Sault Star, as well, came out swinging, with two columns arguing for the truth of the story. An editorial assured readers that they could “depend, no matter who jokes about or expresses a disbelief in the Algoma nature stories given in the Star, that these are all taken seriously by this paper, and our best efforts are made to report them accurately.”

In 1931, the Globe reported on a jumping mouse found that “[put the] kangaroo to shame.” Apparently, while the mouse was only five inches long, it could jump a distance of twelve feet. Zoologists were so fascinated by this creature that they “secured” it for the Royal Ontario Museum. The newspaper noted, clearly aware of the city’s reputation, that “Yes, it’s from Sault district.”

In 1932, the Sault once again made the news on the animal front, when a local man, Mr. Dodds, became famous across the continent for his pet wolf – apparently so docile that pictures were spread of him “accepting candy from a child.”

The follow-up story was less pleasant – although perhaps not as disastrous as you might expect. The owner was in court, and it was alleged that he “unlawfully and injuriously did have upon his premises a wolf which continually howls both by day and by night, annoying the neighbors, and thereby commits a common nuisance, endangering the health and comfort of the public.”

Neighbours were split in their opinions, with some saying they did not mind the howling, and others finding it annoying. Magistrate Elliot appeared to egg on one neighbour, saying, “You rather like it, don’t you? … Perhaps Mr. Dodds could be persuaded to get two or three more wolves. Would you like that?”

The neighbour replied that he’d “move out of there” if that was ever to happen.

And then, of course, there was the famous Wolf Week in 1932, spearheaded by the Sault Star’s James Curran, which sought to celebrate the wolf and lessen its intimidating reputation. Wolf Week also featured a young moose, which Curran captured outside of the city and drove into town in his car. Apparently, it thrashed around so much in the back seat that “the car nearly nose-dived off the road.”

In 1934, some schoolboys reported seeing “a flying elephant” in the area of Sawpit Bay. Their claims made the news in the Globe, although the newspaper did note that “their description of it was vague.”

Also in 1934, the Globe reported on a battle between an automobile and a moose. As the driver headed down a forest road, the moose “felt obliged to challenge the gasoline-tainted invader of his sanctuary.”

The driver described the moose’s rolling, reddened eyes, the way the moose lifted the front end of the vehicle off the ground in his attack, and the way a lamp and the radiator screen dangled off of his antlers – what the newspaper called “the spoils of war.”

The Globe noted that “this [was] a poor way to attract motorists to Algoma” before clarifying that such an animal attack was unheard of in the region. However, the story just fed into the Sault’s reputation for weird animal happenings, with the paper declaring the city to be “at it again.” “Leave it to Sault Ste. Marie, and Algoma generally, to provide strange news for the world to read,” the article read.

But perhaps the best illustration of Sault Ste. Marie’s reputation comes from a Globe and Mail article out of Southern Ontario. Also in 1934, the Globe reported that a cow in Guelph had “a misunderstanding with an automobile, swallowed the door handle… and had to be destroyed.” The news editor noted that “this interesting and unusual yarn [was] worthy of the Sault.”

Sault Ste. Marie, at least for a while, had a reputation of being the place where strange interactions with animals took place – and apparently somewhere you would expect to have a cow eat part of your automobile in a “misunderstanding.”

Each week, the Sault Ste. Marie Public Library and its Archives provides SooToday readers with a glimpse of the city’s past.

Find out more of what the Public Library has to offer at www.ssmpl.ca and look for more Remember This? columns here