The 20-foot ‘lizard-like monster’ that invaded Anchor Point in 1946

Part of a continuing weekly series on Alaska history by local historian David Reamer. Have a question about Anchorage or Alaska history or an idea for a future article? Go to the form at the bottom of this story.

It was Oct. 21, 1946, an otherwise quiet day. The news snuck in that Monday, propelled by an eager Civil Aeronautics Administration radio operator. Per the usually conservative — staid even — Anchorage Daily Times, a nearly 20-foot-long, three-ton “lizard-like monster” had washed ashore at Anchor Point, a few miles from Homer.

Hard as it might be to believe now, Alaskans rushed to the scene, eager to see a carcass on a beach. Most of the available small planes in Anchorage were hired for trips south, hopeful for just a glimpse of this beast from the depths. Students from Homer took a field trip to the site. When Don Dorothy, a pilot for Pacific Northern Airlines, flew over Anchor Point for a scheduled Homer-to-Anchorage flight, he observed three planes moored there. The creature was clearly visible, even from 100 feet in the fair. Higher on the beach, a group of people waited for the tide to recede for a better view of the remains.

The “monster” was first seen floating in Kachemak Bay before landing at Anchor Point. Area homesteaders claimed the body had been there for the better part of two weeks before anyone else noticed. Harry White of White Air Service flew over the spectacle but could not land due to rough water. He said, “I can’t rightly describe it too well, but as much as anything it looks just like a big overgrown lizard.”

Rain later that week ruined the view. Daily Times cartoonist Jane Hafling (1923-2017) drew a flock of unlucky pilots circling above the clouds, all unable to see the creature. The “Alley Oop” mentioned here was a popular comic strip character then, a prehistoric man who rode a dinosaur.

The day after the news reached Anchorage, pilot Bill Renfrew flew photographer Don Knudsen to the location. Knudsen made the first known measurements of the unknown beast. From the tip of its head to the tip of its tail, it was nearly 19 feet long, still partially covered in skin. Its head was just over 2 feet wide and 3 1/2 feet long. The teeth were sharply pointed and interlocked, which, for some reason, made many onlookers confident that it was a land animal.

In Anchorage, those who could not visit the body in person collected in droves around the downtown Anchorage Photo Supply, where Knudsen’s photos were displayed. Around this time, the national press picked up on the story. The seven major news services — a different time in American press history — entered into a bidding war for the photo rights, an auction won by International News Service.

The details of the beast were wired to university experts, but before they could reach the scene in person, the locals had already made their conclusions. As in the Daily Times, “The animal still is unidentified by experts, although it is believed to be a tyrannosaurus species of dinosaur.” This description included an especially ridiculous artist’s conception of the alleged dinosaur while alive. According to other contemporary newspaper accounts, two unidentified Fairbanks physicians declared the creature was “definitely prehistoric.” After reviewing some dinosaur texts at the library, the two doctors concluded the beast was either a Tyrannosaurus or Gorgosaurus, another tyrannosaurid.

The two doctors, let alone the general public in Anchorage, were somewhat stretched regarding their knowledge of dinosaurs. The popular belief was that the supposed Anchor Point dinosaur had been frozen in ice, thus the preserved skin. As we know now, the dinosaurs went extinct at the end of the Cretaceous Period, some 65 million years ago. No place on Earth has been continually covered in ice since then.

Newspapers across the country ran pictures of the body. Suddenly, Anchor Point was on the front pages being read in California, Michigan and New York. Interest in the creature was at its apex when Ivar Skarland arrived. On Oct. 26, 1946, the anthropologist from what is now the University of Alaska Fairbanks examined the “dinosaur.”

By then, souvenir hunters had removed all of the teeth. And decomposition had continued its natural pace. Imagine, if you will, a 20-foot corpse, whether prehistoric or not, after several days in the open air. Make sure to include the words “putrefying” and “horrific stench.” Area homesteaders E. S. Nordby and Jack Dietz, wearing gas masks, hauled the carcass to Dietz’s farm, where they charged the eager public an admission fee for a glance at the body. When Skarland arrived, the opportunistic pioneers had collected more than $50, roughly $750 in 2024 money.

The professor needed little time to crush some dreams. It was just a killer whale, a little interesting but rather far from historic. He pointed out the blowhole — a telling feature — and the lack of a pelvic region where back legs might have been attached. Most of the tail was missing, possibly consumed by a second such whale. The rather earthy academic further noted, “There was still good red meat on the bones. If I’d been in need of food, I wouldn’t have hesitated to eat it.”

To be fair, a few Alaskans positively identified the carcass as a killer whale before Skarland. Toby Anungazuk told the Daily News, “Killer whale. Have seen many near my home.” Likewise, bush pilot Gren Collins said, “The bone structure is not that of a lizard which the prehistoric land animals were. Their vertebra are rounded — like a whale’s.” Such opinions, however, were not only in the minority but unpopular.

Even as Skarland announced his findings to the Homer crowd, he could see frowns and shaking heads. Many, perhaps most there, refused to believe his conclusions. To some real Alaskans, facts mean little, not until the fact has spent an entire winter up here or peed in the Yukon. Why, a fact fresh out the mouth of a university professor was barely a fact at all. At least, that’s what some rural Alaskans thought in 1946. Moreover, they wanted to dream, and Skarland was the rudest of alarm clocks.

The anthropologist noted, “Oh, they were friendly and tolerant about it. They told me I was entitled to my opinion and I feel the same way about it — they’re entitled to theirs, too. The story will probably grow, and in 10 years there’ll be only a few people who will believe that it wasn’t a monster.”

This was far from the first or last time a whale or other animal was mistaken for a dinosaur, sea creature or cryptid. Skarland had also debunked a 1938 discovery at Cordova. Once again, an unknown monster was revealed as a common whale. In 1935, a giant “serpent” captured off the coast of British Columbia was just a basking shark. In 1962, the “Tasmanian Globster” was a bit of a news sensation. The alleged sea monster was discovered on Tasmania, the island off Australia. It was just whale blubber. This will all happen again. And again.

Key sources:

“Experts Study Beached Beast.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 25, 1946, 1.

“‘Huh! Just Whale,’ Says Toby.” Anchorage Daily News, October 26, 1946, 1.

“Ice-Age Monster Reported Washed Ashore at Homer.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 22, 1946, 8.

“Mystery Surrounds Animal’s Identity Found Near Homer.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 24, 1946, 1.

“Prehistoric Animal Seen.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 23, 1946, 1.

“Prehistoric Monster Found in Alaska.” Traverse City Record Eagle [Michigan], October 25, 1946, 1.

“Professor Identifies ‘Monster’ as Whale.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 30, 1946, 1, 8.

“Scholar Views Homer Beast.” Anchorage Daily Times, October 26, 1946, 1.