Docreggie's blog

Hello everyone and Good Labor Day to all of you! In order for me to adequately continue in my North Florida River Swamp investigations for my "hairy friends" down here, I must first establish a camp HQ. Since I have been accepted into the USFS Host Camper Program late last month, a volunteer spot that allows me to set up a camper trailer in a designated Federal campground, I have been making ready our small trailer for this task. The first order of business was to replace the worn out tires and repack the bearings on the old camper trailer before it could travel to my house for a complete refit. With that accomplished last weekend, we towed the Phonex camper trailer to my house yesterday where it is resting in my yard now. The real work now begins as there are a great number of things that need to be repaired, replaced, and cleaned up in order for the camper to be ready for it's final journey into the campground (hopefully within the next two weeks). I will be sharing this camp spot with another couple from Ohio who come down every year and stay through the winter until late spring.

I'm not going to bore you with all the bloody details of trailer repairs, but, rather, tell you what I am planning to do once the camper is set in place down in the NF/WMA campsite. Once I have moved into the neighborhood, I need to establish if my "friends" are still in the area. Of course, I must do this (and all other BF things) very quietly so as not to disturb the balance with the USFS or my Ohio neighbors. Until I get to know my trailer neighbors in camp, I cannot risk them having knowledge of what my real intentions are in this spot! Anyway, once I establish that the "Locals" are in the area, I can begin with my planned methods of attracting them into a closer cohabitation with me. My activity calendar is set up such that I have several methodologies in my favor to accomplish this mission. A boat survey of the river area is one of the things that must be done right away. Then, a swamp survey shall be undertaken to try and find the source of their existence in this area. Finally, a forest service road survey will be taken to ascertain any activity in the surrounding NF and WMA locations.

My group has selected seven areas to be studied during this initial phase of operations. Several of these areas are very close to the established camp site. Two of these areas are defined as "Wilderness" by the USFS within the boundaries of this vast 650,000-acre WMA! Unless our survey data dictates otherwise, the vast majority of my time will be spent searching the river and swamp areas, near the campsite, where past evidence has shown that these beings are active during the fall and winter months. One recent measure that we have undertaken is to do an area check using Google Earth to find any well worn trails made by these Big Guys that approach the campground. My mentor has already taken that first step for me and advised me that there are several huge trails observed coming out of the forest into the campground and going back into the swamp! A ground search shall be undertaken as soon as possible to find this sighted "nature" trail and gather any evidence possible once the campsite has been secured. A river research project is being planned for the end of this month, after the camper is in place, to follow up on our investigation from the March adventure written about earlier. Forest Service road surveys will begin next week with the designated "Wilderness Area" first on the list. This area is surrounded by roadway access and must be driven around in it's entirity to check for signs of "wildlife".

Once all the preliminary processes of investigations have been completed, I shall make ready to follow up on all evidence collected that would lead to the habitation with any of these beings. As soon as "contact" has been made with any of these creatures, I will notify NESRA and extend an open invitation to any full member wishing to plan a visit down here with me! As I proceed through the various stages of development with this research endeavor, I shall keep all informed through this blog and on line with the forum, as I deem appropriate.

Since October, 2008, I have been doing some carefully chosen searches for the south Georgia and north Florida "Skunk Apes" up here in the regional river and swampland areas near my home town of Tallahassee. I want to specifically talk about some of my expeditions into a local river swamp area that is found inside the massive WMA and National Forest. This area runs along a major river basin as it comes out of a local lake. The river runs down through the national forest and into the Gulf of Mexico.

"Skunk Apes", as they have been historically known, have been seen and reported to exist in this area for centuries. Local legends, handed down through the ages from Native Americans and Pioneer people of the region, tell of numerous encounters with these "swamp devils", "skunk creatures", "swamp boogers", etc. Now here I am trying to find the elusive, secretive, quietly existing southern Sasquatch amid upteen thousands of acres of forests, swamps, and many, many miles of roadways, both paves and unpaved. The task is interesting in that one has to be constantly aware of numerous dangers - not from the Skunk Ape creatures - but from all the other local "nasties" living out in this wilderness. Added to this task is the ever possible unpleasantries of becoming injured or lost as I seek the evidence needed to prove a modern family of Bigfoots are here, now. If you don't think you can get lost messing around in the swamps, just read my blog story about loosing it in south Georgia!

I am out here conducting my own research, investigations, and expeditions mostly alone. What I wouldn't give for a couple of trusted NESRA people out here with me running around and having so much fun. Up until this summer, I have been doing all these things under the guise of hunting and fishing! As of now I'm out of hunting season, so I'll continue the research under the heading of fishing. I am not one of these investigators who like to write about their expeditions in the form of a police reports. Unfortunately, local horrific rains caused the river system to flood out of their banks and prevented me from accessing all my research areas early in the spring. It is likely that the Swamp People reestablished new habitat on higher ground and I cannot find any evidence so far to justify launching any more expeditions until they give me some signs.

In the meantime, I have been busy reading reference materials in the form of new books and maintaining contact with my mentors in an effort to learn more about how to approach these beings. There are no shortcuts to a continued relationship with any of these Shadow People. Learning what must be done to show respect for their way of life, their surroundings, their personal space, and methodologies of appropriate contact details have become my prime directive! In effect, I had to back up a few steps in order to create the correct mannerisms of approach in order for them to trust me when I do reestablish contact again (sometime soon I hope) with the Swamp Folks. One major benifit about living in Florida is that the temperatures remain elivated, not crashing into the freezing degrees such as the north, east, or western regions. It may be too rainy here sometimes, but the weather is always unpredictable no matter where you live and choose to research these people. My point being that these "Swamp People" stay active all year long.

Blog revised 7/30/09.

Before the BFRO report was initiated about my California BF sighting, before I joined NESRA, before the account of my last "flash sighting" on that river island in Georgia, I had a most humbling experience that set me to thinking about just how easy it is to become lost in a swamp. Oh, I used to think I was such the woodsman. Yeah, I've been lost before and found my way out dozens of times. Sure, right, but never like this. Funny things go through your mind during a time when you suddenly realize you are completely LOST and cannot find your way out of a situation.

Actually, it was quite an unassuming day. My oldest son, Bobby, and I had launched our 16-foot Ghoenoe boat at the last landing way up on Lake Seminole, Georgia, and had motored out into the river headed upstream for a hog and deer hunting expedition at the crack of daylight. High hopes fed currents of conceited successes in our minds as we traveled rapidly up the river to a secret spot located inside a small creek mouth where we could hide the boat from the prying eyes of other hunters. Bobby had already killed several hogs and a deer out of this cherish spot and I just knew my attempts to finally kill a nice eating hog would be no problem today.

The weather had turned out to be rather pleasant as a morning cold snap sent the temperatures plunging down into the mid-thirties with a good batch of overhead clouds moving in that seemed to set us into a good mood. As we parked the boat inside this little creek and prepared to split up for a mornings hunt, Bobby slung his backpack on, grabbed the rifle, and headed out into the swamp to his left. I sat in the boat for a few minutes waiting for him to disappear into the swampy mess of vegetation. After about 10 minutes, I eased out of the boat and stood on the banks of this small creek contemplating my next move.

My clothing for the day consisted of some BDU camo pants, a camo tee-shirt, a long sleeve BDU shirt, and a hunter orange vest that fit over the top of it. My headgear was a camo BDU floppy hat, a pair of 8" hiking boots, and a pair of cotton socks. In the left rear pocket of my pants I always carry a red hankerchef and a small folding knife; in my right rear pocket I carry a camo hunting wallet with licenses, ID, and a dollar bill; in my right front pocket I carry some loose change, and in my left front pocket I carry a pocket watch on a chain attached to my black 2" belt that fits around my waist. Also, I wear glasses.

It was then that I made one of the most simple, stupid mistakes of my entire hunting career. I walked away from the boat up into the dry creek bed without my backpack. I had only the small .32 caliber Winchester carbine, a .44 caliber S&W handgun, part of a pack of cigarettes (I actually smoked back in those days), a lighter, and a pocket compass with me. "I'll just go up this little creek a few hundred yards and check for sign", I recall telling myself. Oops!

Here is what I was missing within my backpack: A 5-watt radio with communication to my son; an emergency space blanket packet; some basic survival fishing items (10#-test monofilament line, small & medium sized hooks, a few small bobbers, some split shot, a couple of small sized egg-sinkers, and a pair of pliers; a USMC Kabar knife; a container full of waterproof matches & some instant fire starter kindling; a complete MRE; a small canteen of water; a rain poncho; spare ammo for the carbine and pistol; a GPS unit; an extra pair of socks; and, a long sleeve camo tee shirt.

After I walked up the small dry creek bed away from the boat, I crossed over into the swamp for about 100-yards following a fresh hog track hoping to come upon this wandering rooter. It was not to be. Soon after following the hog track, I sat down next to a big oak tree and smoked a phewy cigarette. When I stood up again, I removed the compass from my shirt pocket and took a look at the northern needle direction while I held the carbine close across my chest. I knew from before leaving the boat, that the landing was due west, so I figured I would just amble along back in that direction to the little dry creek bed and follow it to the boat. Oh, Oh, Reggie headed out in the wrong direction.

Big dummy Reggie placed the carbine across my chest and put the compass near it to obtain a directional reading. The metal in the carbine skewered the true direction, causing me to wander off in a north-easterly direction, instead of back in the western direction where the boat was located. OUCH! So, away north and east I went, plodding along still hunting, thinking I was tracking back to the river. I was following some fresh hog tracks that led away from the dry creek bed and I allowed that to occupy my mind instead of payingattention to the direction I was traveling.

About 30-minutes into the hunting episode, it began to dawn on my dim, dinosouric mind, that I was NOT going to the river where the boat was located. So, I did the "smart thing" and continued on hunting for another hour only to find out I was really LOST. When the startling thought finally enterred my mind that I was good and lost, I sat down by a big oak tree and smoked a few cigarettes trying to figure a way out of my predicament. Admitting that one is lost is the first step towards resolving the crises. Being lost in miles of dim, damp swampland is not a good thing.

First order of business was to remain calm. People who panic and start racing around mindlessly usually tire themselves out both mentally and physically. I had one major medical problem that might spell the difference to my survival. I am a Type 2 Diabetic. That meant I take medication, twice a day, to keep the blood sugars at bay, and I had only taken the morning dose. Then, I had a major physical problem. In my late 50's (then), I was not in the best of shape to play survivalist amongst the changing envirenments that Mother Nature throws at you! And, let's not forget that Mr. Brainy Smerf here had forgotten to bring along his backpack. Yep, I really screwed up this time.

I had made a monumentous mistake with compass directions, I stood up and shot a true compass reading well away from anything metal, like the ding-dong carbine! I estimated that the river lay west of where I was at this time, but I was not completely convinced about where I was, either. Having wandered around mindlessly for the past hour, I actually didn't know where the hell I was, except I was in a hell of a fix right now. I decided to follow an old rule for getting lost = fire my weapon three times and await a response.

So, I pulled out the .44 revolver and fired it three times. No response. In another minute, I fired the revolver three more times. No response. Well, other than hurting my ears and wasting six precious rounds of ammo, I had not resolved a darn thing, other than running off any game animals around me for hundreds of yards! Then, I prayed. Somebody must have heard my pitiful plea because about five minutes right after the prayer session I heard the faint sound of an outboard motor way down to the south of my current position. Ah, now I knew where the river was, and knowing where the true postion of where the river was meant I would eventually get rescued. This was the first big break that I was to recieve in an otherwise receedingly downward spiral of bad circumstances.

I gathered myself together and started off in a southwestern direction in hopes of bisecting the river at some point. It was early afternoon now. Then, it started to rain. Oh joys, and it was a good soaking rain, too. Luckily, it was not a cold, soaking rain. But, this rain did spell trouble for me when it came time to find some dry fire making materials if I had to spend the night in the swamp. As I trudged along in the rain, I looked up to see a big buck standing amid a clump of palmetto bushes about 50-yards away from me. Slowly I raised the carbine to my shoulder, pulled back the hammer, and sighted in on his front shoulder. To shoot or not to shoot?

I did not shoot the buck! Why? Because I was lost, not quite sure where I was in reference to the river, and I had no time to be cleaning a deer right now. My time would be better spent finding the river and, then, locating a high point on a river bluff to overlook a large section of the river for any boat traffic. I had concluded that my best opportunity to be rescued was to prepare a camp to spend the night, if necessary, until I could be found! Of course, I had to find the river first. As I struggled along, resting many times in order to preserve energy, I suddenly became very thirsty. Okay, now what. My canteen was in my backpack at the boat, God knows whre, so what to do.

I solved the being thirsty problem in a unique way - one born out of both despiration and inginuity. As I forgot to tell you earlier, I had fired the .32 carbine three times, in addition to the .44 magnum pistol, in an effort to become located. So, I had three .32 caliber empty cartridges that I saved for whatever reason now became apparent. It had started to rain, not a heavy down pour, but a "soaking" rain. The rain continued for about an hour and completely wet the trees and the ground cover (including the potential fire making wood sources). Suddenly it dawned on my dim mind that I could take the empty cartridge shell, stick it under a big leaf from a tree, and collect enough water to drink and quinch my thirst!

Then, in the distance, down towards my left, I heard the sound of a boat motor going down the river. Yipee, now I knew exactly where the river was and realized that upon finding the river, I could then locate the high ground, and wait for rescue! What a lucky break. I carefully walked to the river, crossed a dry creek bed, and rested upon a hig bluff overlooking the river itself. This is where I would make my stand until found by the certain to be launched rescue efforts. Besides, my plan also included the fact that IF a boat came up or down the river, I would cut loose with a few shots from the pistol and someone would rescue me at that time. Well, it didn't happen that way, but the thought of such kept my hopes up. And, a lost puke like me., that has hope, will stay alive until found - sometime or other!

My next matter of survival became finding a food source (because the shell cartridge, filled with leaf run off water, took care of the most basic need). And, making a fire in case I had to spend the night. First, I dug around my immediate area and found enough dry moss, leaves, and small twigs under the wet ground, to get a fire started before dark (which was rapidly approaching - about an hour away). Next, I found some huge bug larvae inside a rotten log that I knew from USMC survival school would sustain me until a more delicious meal could be acquired. But, I'de hold off on eating the larvae until the last moment! Near dark I was just building the fire (actually considering eating the larvae) and started to light it with my cigarette lighter when I heard the distinct sound of an emergency siren located back behind me away from the river.

Man, that was music to my ears. I fired off three shots with the .32 carbine (the hell with the pistol as the carbine sounds carry a lot further). Right away a man shouted out "hello" about 100-yards away (I'm glad I aimed the gun up in the air). I almost said, "yes Lord"! No, I really said something like "over here"...with a few unmentionable cuss words in there, I'm sure. The man told me to come on over to him as we were going to go out the way behind him to the road. Oh, that is going to make me mad...the road was actually only 1/2-mile away on private property.

I greeted the gentleman (I wanted to kiss him but I didn't...I would had if it been a woman) and we walked out to his truck about half-a-mile out of the dismal swamp! He told me that the boat I had heard earlier in the day had been my son, Bobby, who realized "Pops was lost" when he came back to the boat and found all my gear there and no me! Of course, he never heard any of the shots (nor did I hear any of his shots that he fired before he left in the boat to initiate a rescue)...go figure. Bobby had called in everyone but the Marines, including the helo and the dog squad, sheriff, and the Highway Patrol. As I'm riding down the road going to the landing, I see all these rescue people and started waving at them like the lost idiot that I was. Boy did I feel like a Pinhead!

Back at the landing, there were both my sons, a dozen boats, with fish & game and other law enforcement rescue people, rescue dogs, and the helo on the way. You know I went around and greeted everybody to tell them how much I appreciated them coming out to rescue my sorry ass! Life lesson number whatever: Get a grip, take your stuff with you from now on, or stay home (catch up on my fishing?)!
Revised 7/30/09.

In the course of my quest to find the southern Skunk Ape this winter, I decided to take a few days off and detour away from my secret river island searches. In effect, I wanted to do some deer hunting with my oldest son, Bobby, and my very close friend, Gene. Funny things can happen to those of us that get too close to nature.

The following events occurred on Monday, December 15, 2008 at approximately 3:00 PM along a waterway in Southern Georgia.

Report Filed By: NESRA Field Investigator & Researcher, Reggie Roddenberry

Environmental Description and Weather Conditions at the Time of Incident:
Partly cloudy skies and the air temperature in mid 70’s during the afternoon made for some semi-humid conditions. The wind was mostly out of the east at around 5-10 mph. The encounter occurred while investigating an island on a large freshwater waterway.

This is a small island, about ½-mile in length, by ¼ mile in width. It is situated in the middle of a river that flows into a lake. The ground conditions on the island were extremely damp from recent rains and covered in wet leaves and pine straw.

The island is partially forested in large pine trees with many large oak trees bearing several species of acorns. There are many varieties of deciduous “scrub brush” growth amid some tangled masses of vines along with plenty of thick underbrush vegetation.

This island is surrounded on the north side by a large bayou (bay area) with huge amounts of cattails and marsh grasses growing along the parameter that separates it from the mainland. There is also a huge amount of water plant growth mixed in with the cattail vegetation.

The area along the south side of the island has hardwoods extending down to the waterline in most places, with smaller amounts of cattail growth, that separates it from the other mainland. The river flow is extremely high at this time with great masses of floating trees and other brush/plant life flowing downstream towards towards the lake.

Noteworthy Information:
My partner and I beached the boat on the south river side of the island approximately 2:30 p.m. He immediately went into the island’s interior following a northerly course while I remained at the boat to allow him time to safely leave the area. I shouldered my backpack, activated the GPS, loaded my rifle, and started still hunting in a westerly direction away from the boat (and my partner).

As I traveled along the shoreline, I began turning inland towards a northern direction. Approximately 300-yards from the boat, at about 2:55 p.m., I heard a loud crash to the left of me located 100-yards from my position near the shore of the island. At the time, I thought nothing about this guessing it to be a falling tree limb.

The Encounter:
At 3:00 p.m., as I quietly entered a clearing amid a large stand of pine trees, with some big oak trees and lots of vegetation, I spied movement: Something was standing beside a big pine tree about 50-yards away.

A “creature” quickly went from a standing position, beside the pine tree, into a four-legged stance, and rapidly fled along a thick screen of brush going to my left. I noted an orange/brown colored furry animal estimated at 150-pounds bounding away from me in the manner of how I have observed apes to run – this was no deer or hog! The being disappeared from my view in less than 3-seconds! I made note of the being looking at me as it rapidly ran away inside the brush line.

My best description of its facial features would be to say that it appeared to have two, large, rounded eyes with a flat looking, dark orange colored face – no long, protruding nose seen which eliminates it being a deer or a bear! Unfortunately, a better observation of this creature could not be ascertained because of the thick brush screening its features and the intense speed at which this animal disappeared from my view. In affect, the body was a blur of brown-orange, longhaired flowing motion.

Post Sighting Details:
I have seen numerous deer, hogs, bears, cats, dogs and multitudes of other large animals, wild and domestic, run in my life. No animal I have ever witnessed has disappeared at such a rapid pace as this creature. As soon as I approached the pine tree where the creature ran from me, I detected a slight “skunk-like” odor in the air. This smell then rapidly dissipated as the wind blew away the odors. It was only then that I actually realized that the creature I had observed was possibly a small “Skunk Ape”.

I spent the next two hours in a natural sheltered blind observing the area. First, I spent a couple of minutes on hands and knees searching the immediate area for any possible physical evidence, such as tracks, scat, or hair. I found no physical evidence. Then, I spent a few minutes placing several “cover and attractant” scent wafers around me. Finally, I set up a “natural blind” using tree branches and folage at the exact location where the creature fled from me. I constantly scanned all the trees and the surrounding bushes in the area with my binoculars looking for nesting sites or possible creatures peering at me. Nothing more was seen of any questionable creature nor any unusual sounds heard. There were plenty of bird and squirrel noises, but no other sounds detected.

As the daylight faded around 5:15 p.m., I collected my scent wafers, packed up the gear, and left the area quietly to rejoin my hunting partner at the boat.

Post Script Information:
I have not said anything to my hunting partner about this encounter because I have serious doubts that he believes in the existence of these creatures. Further investigation of this area is pending. I have planned another hunting trip onto this island and will cautiously research the area for more evidence of any questionable creatures as soon as a trip can be undertaken. The photographs that were taken by me are pending developement and I intend to post some of these when they are ready.

Future Plans:
This is the second time in my life that I have had an encounter. The last time, 44 years ago, as a teenager, with a gun in my hand (again), the creature was in slow motion. It really didn’t see me until I alerted it to my presence. This time, apparently, the creature was forewarned, and it saw me first.

I am overwhelmed with caution at the extreme speed that these beings can run away to or from us. This evidence gives me serious pause to consider future encounter potentials. I really should be careful when approaching an identified area of habitation (hot zone) – like this island’s interior. I don’t ever want to have to use a gun to defend myself against one of these animals. So, I have decided that, if I feel threatened, in any way, I WILL leave the area rapidly in order to avoid a confrontation. I remain undeterred in my quest to find more of these creatures will go forward. I want to record as much evidence – pictures, physical findings, sound recordings, anything that the scientific world will acknowledge – without sacrificing my life or that of a creature.

As long as I can stay within their realm without provocation, I shall gather as much evidence for future data as possible based upon physical, time, and weather constraints. As an update from this report, I have had to retreat from this area until next fall. Major rain storms have flooded the river system and wiped away all evidence of their existence. This expedition has been shelved until the fall of this year when I can hopefully reestablsih contact with some of these Swamp People. I have no doubt that they remain in the area, probably on higher ground, but until the river system flood waters recede, I cannot even begin to think about going near any of those islands! Revised 5/30/09.