The dramatic redistribution of mass was too much for the overloaded, under-ballasted craft, and it began rolling, its two-foot freeboard quickly disappearing as its starboard rail dipped precariously close to the water.

Brandy fought the wheel. "Take yer seats, people… please, we need tae keep the boat balanced. Please, take yer seats, we don't want tae tip."

They ignored her and continued to film, oblivious of the danger.

"Sit your asses down… now!"

What deep recess this guttural bellow came from, I've no clue, but come it did, straight out of my mouth, and it echoed across the Loch as if Sir William himself were leading a battle charge.

The passengers froze, then hustled back to their spots on the benches, tails between their legs.

Brandy stared at me, aghast.

Clearly in trouble, I stumbled out an apology. "Sorry. I… uh, it's just that I don't want us to tip, not in these freezing waters… uh… not with the monster lurking so close."

Having crapped on deck, I voluntarily stepped in it.

"But Dr. Wallace, you just said—"

"I said I didn't believe in the folklore of Nessie, but there's definitely something large living in Loch Ness, of that I'm certain."

The words came out of my mouth, and again I didn't recognize them. The crowd did, and they quickly gathered around, aiming their video cameras at me as if I were Mel Gibson.

"Go on, Dr. Wallace," coaxed Brandy, "don't stop now."

With nervous perspiration flowing from every pore, and my boxer shorts hopelessly wedged up the crack of my butt, I gritted my teeth and focused on the distant shoreline. "In… in order to understand the mysteries of Loch Ness, first… well, first we have to separate the real science from all of this legend nonsense. For instance, some Highlanders speak of a Kelpie, a sort of water horse, that lives not only in Loch Ness but in other Lochs and… and even in lakes across the world. At Loch Lochy, they call their monster Lizzy, and at Lake Champlain, the beast is known as Champ."

A pale, blonde American woman suddenly pointed from her wheelchair, crying out, "Oh my God, look! There it is!"

Passengers stood, several searching with binoculars.

"Hey, she's right, there it is! It's the monster!"

An avalanche of flesh tripped over itself to get to the port side rail, the crowd gesturing at a series of humps that were indeed moving along the otherwise mirrorlike surface, several hundred yards away.

"Dr. Wallace, Dr. Wallace, do you see it?!"

The boat began rolling again, this time to port.

"It's not the monster," I commanded, "now take your seats."

"No, look, it's moving right… aww, see, it's gone."

"It was just a boat wake, people. Sit down, and I'll explain." Reluctantly, they returned to their seats, their eyes still lingering to the east as the Nessie III resettled in the water.

I turned to the woman in the wheelchair. "Miss, what's your name?"

"Kate Coffey."