Every lake in New England has a story, but only one has its own monster with a festival, a baseball mascot and a state resolution. Meet Champ, the Lake Champlain monster, the long-necked, humpy, maybe-a-log, maybe-not legend that's been "spotted" in the big lake between Vermont and New York for about two centuries. Scotland can keep Nessie. We've got our own, and ours has better maple creemees nearby.
Grab a coffee and some binoculars. Here's what's real, what's folklore, and how to go looking for him yourself.
First, Meet the Lake
If you're hiding a monster, Lake Champlain is a good spot. According to the Lake Champlain Basin Program, it runs about 120 miles from Whitehall, New York, up into Québec, and it's about 400 feet deep at its deepest, between Charlotte, Vermont, and Essex, New York. It's shared by Vermont, New York and Québec, with more than 70 islands. Lots of dark corners. Honestly, the I'd Rather Be At Lake Champlain T-Shirt says it best, and the product description even warns you might spot a legendary sea monster. We stand by that.
Fun fact: for a few weeks in 1998, Lake Champlain was officially a Great Lake. A federal bill signed in March 1998 slipped in a line calling it one, which opened the door to Great Lakes research money. Lawmakers from the actual Great Lakes states objected, and the title was pulled later that month. Plenty of folks still call it "the Sixth Great Lake."
Before "Champ": Tatoskok and the Great Serpent
The legend is older than any newspaper. The Abenaki, whose homeland includes the Champlain Valley, tell of a great horned serpent in the lake, often written as Gitaskog or Tatoskok. The name roughly means "great serpent" or "big snake." Iroquois tradition has giant serpents, too. In Abenaki lore, the serpent is a spiritual being that shows itself for a moment, then slips back into the deep. Sound familiar? That's basically every Champ sighting since.
The Samuel de Champlain "Sighting" (Spoiler: Probably Not)
You'll see this one everywhere: in 1609, Samuel de Champlain, the explorer the lake is named after, supposedly wrote about a 20-foot serpent "thick as a barrel" with "a head like a horse." One problem: there's no evidence he ever wrote it. Researchers have traced that line back to a 1970 magazine article, not to Champlain's journals.
What Champlain did write about was a big, toothy fish the locals called the chaousarou. He said the ones he saw were about five feet long with a long snout and armor-like scales. Historians generally read that as a gar. Sea serpent? Nah. But the Port Henry sightings board still lists "Samuel de Champlain 1609," so the legend lives on.
The Sheriff Who Saw It: Nathan Mooney, 1883
The 1800s were Champ's breakout era, with steamboat passengers and railroad crews reporting something big in the water. The headliner: Clinton County Sheriff Nathan H. Mooney, who in 1883 (some retellings say 1873) reported a huge water serpent that he figured was about 25 to 30 feet long. He said he was close enough to see "round white spots inside its mouth." When the sheriff says he saw a sea monster, people pay attention, and a wave of new sightings followed.
P.T. Barnum Wanted Him Dead or Alive
Of course the greatest showman on Earth smelled a buck. Barnum offered a reward for the "great Champlain serpent" so he could put it in his show. Newspapers of the time reported an offer of $50,000 for the hide in 1873, and in 1887 they reported he'd renewed an offer of $20,000. Retellings mix up the numbers, but nobody ever collected. Champ kept his hide.
The Most Famous Photo: Sandra Mansi, 1977
In July 1977, Sandra Mansi, a Connecticut woman on a family trip up the lake, snapped a photo of what looks like a dark head and long neck rising out of the water. It's the Champ photo, and it made national news when it was published in 1981.
Skeptics have poked at it for decades. Mansi said she'd thrown out the negative and couldn't pin down exactly where she took the shot. Investigator Joe Nickell pointed out that the bay where it was reportedly taken is only about 14 feet deep, and others have suggested a floating tree trunk or log. Believers say it's never been proven fake. It's still debated at every cookout from Burlington to Plattsburgh.
Protected by Law (Sort Of)
Now it gets wicked fun. Port Henry, New York, passed a symbolic resolution in 1981 declaring its waters a safe haven for Champ. The Vermont House followed with a resolution in 1982 saying Champ should be protected from harm, and New York lawmakers passed their own resolution around 1983 recognizing the possibility that Champ exists, encouraging scientific study and protecting the critter from "willful" harm. These were symbolic, not laws with fines. But still: two state legislatures went on record to protect a monster nobody has proven exists. That's peak North Country.
Champ Is a Local Celebrity
- Port Henry, NY: The village calls itself the home of Champ. There's a big Champ statue, and a roadside sightings board near Bulwagga Bay lists column after column of names and dates. Every summer the town throws Champ Day, which in 2026 landed on Saturday, August 1, with a cardboard boat race, games and food.
- Burlington, VT: The Vermont Lake Monsters, the former minor-league club that's now a summer collegiate team, play at Centennial Field, and their mascot is, you guessed it, Champ. The team took the Lake Monsters name after the 2005 season.
- Plattsburgh, NY: In 2019 a "Legends & Lore" marker went up on Cumberland Head saying Champ lives here and the law protects him.
How to Go Champ Hunting
Want your name on the board? Here's the townie field guide:
- Pick your spot. Bulwagga Bay near Port Henry is the most famous sighting zone. The Burlington waterfront is great at sunset, and the lake ferries put you out on open water.
- Go early or late. Locals swear dawn and dusk on a calm, glassy day are your best shot. Wind and chop make everything look like a hump.
- Bring the right gear. Binoculars, a fully charged phone, and the proper uniform. A Squatch Watchah T-Shirt tells everybody you're a serious amateur cryptid hunter. Bigfoot, Champ, you watch for all of 'em.
- Know the look-alikes. Floating logs, boat wakes and big lake sturgeon have all been blamed for sightings. If it doesn't move against the wind, it's probably a log. Probably.
- Keep the evidence. Write down the time, place and weather, and don't delete the original file. Learn from history: never toss the negative.
- Warm up after. Hit the ECHO Leahy Center for Lake Champlain in Burlington, which has featured Champ folklore, then grab a creemee. You earned it.
So Is Champ Real?
Honest answer? More than 300 sightings have been reported over the years, and there's a famous photo, but there's no body, no bones and no proof. Skeptics say a breeding herd of giant animals would be hard to miss. Believers say 120 miles of deep, dark water can hide a lot. Either way, Champ has been part of life on the lake for generations, and New England wouldn't be the same without him.
Hungry for more local monsters? Check out the rest of our New England Myths & Legends series: the Dover Demon, the Bridgewater Triangle and the Devil Monkey of Danville, New Hampshire.
Seen Champ yourself? Tell us in the comments. We won't judge.
Wicked Local, signing off. Keep your eyes on the water, and don't feed the monster.