The Autumn of 1971 proved to be a period of interest for Loch Ness Monster historians. The "hunting" season was drawing to a close for the likes of Tim Dinsdale who had been patrolling the waters of the loch in his heavily equipped boat known as "Water Horse". Tim had taken part in some curious experiments, such as piping Beethoven's Sixth Symphony out on an underwater speaker into the depths of the loch. However, elation and frustration arrived on the 6th September, because after ten years of watching, he had finally caught a second sighting of the Loch Ness Monster as a four to six foot long neck popped out of the waters 200 yards from him by Foyers.
Despite having a bank of five cameras pointing from the boat onto the loch, Tim succumbed to symptoms of what I call the "shock and awe" syndrome. Despite years of searching, all he could do was stare in a "spellbound" state at this mysterious creature. To my mind, you are fighting your own brain to stop going into this instinctive survival mode as you lock into assessing the potential threat before you.
He concluded in the 1972 edition of his "Loch Ness Monster" book that "a close-range sighting was so dramatic, so mesmeric in effect, that it would inhibit any camera drill which tended to obscure one's vision". More frustration was to follow in October as he was patrolling again in his boat, but in the south of the loch. The sun was low in the sky but shining brightly from the direction of Glendoe, making the glare difficult to see the loch towards Borlum Bay.
He saw a tall man and another man walking down to the Fort Augustus Abbey jetty and was close enough to hear one man say there was movement in the water but Tim was blinded by the sun, Later he learned to his chagrin that the men were Father Gregory Brusey and friend who were about to witness a long pole-like neck in what has become one of the famous Loch Ness Monster sightings. What is not so well-known was that Tim was in a potentially great position to get a shot, but he had neglected to do his routine of getting the sun behind him and his cameras,
Tim writes that this failure to do the simple thing "was very hard to bear" and was "a blow below the belt". Nevertheless, he blamed himself for failing to do the right thing rather than any "hoodoo".
