A dire wolf has been brought back through modern genetic science — and I sat down with the company executive overseeing the project to understand exactly how it happened.
In this in-depth interview, we discuss dire wolf cloning, de-extinction science, CRISPR gene editing, ancient DNA recovery, conservation biotechnology, and what this breakthrough could mean for endangered species, ecosystem restoration, and the future of wildlife management.
Is this true de-extinction?
Could extinct animals like the woolly mammoth or saber-toothed cat be next?
What are the ethical concerns around cloning predators?
It’s a fascinating conversation and this is just the beginning.
Part two will come next week as we dive into how this technology might have an impact on the highly endangered red wolf breeding program.
Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms
I could almost hear “Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma” echoing in the forest.
Excitement at the opportunity to be in the woods alone, early in the morning in a remote tract had now turned to…well…fright.
Just ahead of me on a lonely creek bottom was a structure cobbled together with boards, pipes and tarps. It looked eerily familiar to the home of slasher Jason Voorhees on Friday the 13th Pt. 2.
I was not just in the woods but the super deep woods about as far from people as you can get in the eastern third of Texas.
The more likely answer is this was someone’s meth lab-something I have always hoped I would never find.
Had I stumbled upon the living quarters o some deranged person out there? There are instances of people in this region living off the land and never coming out in the region so maybe it was just a hermit.
I did not stick around to investigate.
I was considering turning in what I found but a few days later it became a moot point.
Hurricane Harvey’s epic rains hit Southeast Texas and the nearest homes to the location had 6-8 feet of water in them. This spot would’ve been deeper than that so if Jason did live in there, he had to make a new home.
I haven’t returned to ask him how it turned out.
Chad Meadows encountered something similar when he was a young teen.
“One day me and my cousin got bored so,we grabbed the machete and our bb guns and went off exploring,” he said.
“This was on a levee in Deweyville, TX. We went down by the river and came across some trees that were clearly cut down with an axe and formed into a 10×10 half walled fort. We found the jackpot or so we thought.”
“During our firefight with the enemy, we saw another fort a couple hundred feet away, but covered in a dingy white canvas tarp. We needed a fallback position so we checked out this new, smaller fort. We thought we had stumbled on a hunter’s camp. The second place had a bunch of barrels and pots and copper tubing. We didn’t know what it was but it was hidden so we decided to get out of there,” Meadows said.
So, off the duo went.
When they got a few feet away a “wildman” with what he described as a ZZ Top beard came running and yelling and waving a shotgun.
“We took off. I remember him firing the gun and I could hear the pellets peppering the trees around us. We weren’t hit but we were scared. We didn’t tell our parents because my uncle would have gone after the man. A few days later, their dog came up missing, only to be found dead just in the woods near where we set off on our adventure,” Meadow said.
The moral of the story? If you find rickety structures in the forest get out. Quickly.
Chance are its someone hiding out or hiding something in the remoteness of the forest.
However my imagination and the amount of times I viewed the second Friday the 13th as a kid won’t rule out a slasher with a white sack over his head.
Plus there is the time I was driving down a remote road not too far from this location and saw a guy in overalls rocking on a porch with a sack over his head. When I came back through a couple of hours later he was still there.
I hope I never encounter him in the forest
I know Jason is a fictional character but this guys outfit was too close of a match to the iconic movie slasher for my comfort and this was in July, not on Halloween.
Creepy, huh?
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
For decades, people across the United States have reported something that science insists shouldn’t exist:
A jet-black mountain lion.
Not a bobcat. Not a house cat. Not a trick of the light.
A full-sized cougar — moving silently through the timber… darker than the night around it.
Watch my new video on the topic here.
These sightings have persisted for generations, from the Smoky Mountains to Texas ranchland, from Appalachian hollows to Western canyon country.
And the question remains:
Are black mountain lions real… or is this one of America’s most enduring wildlife legends?
The “Black Cougar” That Science Says Doesn’t Exist
Mountain lions — also called cougars, pumas, or panthers depending on where you live — are one of the most widespread predators in the Western Hemisphere.
But here’s the strange part:
Despite thousands of confirmed mountain lions documented across North America…
Science has never confirmed a truly melanistic (black) mountain lion.
No verified specimen. No confirmed genetic line. No clear photograph. Not even one born in captivity.
And yet…
People keep seeing them.
Eyewitness Reports That Refuse to Go Away
Black mountain lion sightings aren’t rare.
They appear in:
Trail camera rumors
Local police reports
Hunters’ encounters
Rural folklore
Newspaper archives going back over a century
Some witnesses describe an animal so dark it looked like a shadow moving through the forest.
Others report yellow eyes in the brush… and a long tail disappearing into the trees.
Many of these people have spent their entire lives outdoors.
They know what a bear looks like. They know what a dog looks like. They know what a mountain lion looks like.
So why does this mystery persist?
Absence of evidence is not always evidence of absence.
New Video: Black Mountain Lions in America
In my latest documentary, I break down:
The history of black cougar reports
Why science rejects the claim
What witnesses are actually seeing
The genetics behind melanism
And why this mystery refuses to die
🎥 Watch it here:
Black Mountain Lions in America: The Mystery That Won’t Die (embed the video here)
What Do You Think?
Have you ever seen something in the woods that didn’t make sense?
Do you believe black mountain lions could exist…
Or is this legend the result of fear, darkness, and misidentification?
Let me know in the comments.
And as always…
Stay sharp out there.
Because the wilderness is stranger than we admit.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
Spoken somberly from a National Forest Service game warden, those words got my attention.
As we conversed at the National Wild Turkey Federation convention in Nashville, he told me he had worked Humboldt County, Ca.
And as I related a personal experience from there nearly 20 years ago, he recommended the six-part Netflix series.
“There are missing people, murders, and drug trafficking. You were lucky to get out,” he said.
After studying a map, I was probably 10 miles or so from the actual Murder Mountain documented in the series but deep in a county with many missing people, murders, and mayhem.
In 2002 me and my father set out on a mission to explore the Pacific Northwest after my great white shark cage dive adventure in San Francisco. I had heard a bit about pot growers in the area but nothing that seemed worse than where I live in East Texas.
Boy was I wrong.
One night on our trip we set out to try out our new night vision goggles and to record night wildlife sounds in the stunningly beautiful mountains in the Trinity Alps. When I tell you this was in the middle of nowhere it might be hard for you to imagine just how far unless you’ve been to that part of the world.
We pulled up a few minutes after the sunset and planned to stay through the night.
As Dad started taking out the equipment, I walked over to a good viewing spot to look down into the valley with the night vision goggles.
The moon was full, so visibility was high.
If anything came into the clearings below, we should get a glimpse, I thought.
Then I saw it.
A beam of light shot up toward our position.
“Dad, did you see that?” I asked as I pulled off the goggles.
“What?”
“A light beam just shone toward us,” I replied.
“I didn’t see it,’ he said.
Neither did I now that the goggles were off.
I put them back on, and a few seconds later I could see the light beam moving up toward us. I took them off and couldn’t see the light.
Immediately I knew that someone was below, traveling with night vision and using an infrared light only visible with night vision technology.
The drug activity warning hit me, and I readied to retreat. I knew whoever was down there was not listening for bugling elk like we were.
Just as I shouted for Dad to throw the gear back in the SUV, headlights of a vehicle came on about 3/4 mile ahead of us.
We were on one side of a logging road that cut across a mountain.
This was on the other side of the mountain road. Someone had been signaled.
We shoved our gear into the SUV and sped out of there, but by the time we hit the road so did the truck from the other side. They were headed straight for us. At one point I was going 80 down the mountain, and they were just a few feet away—literally an arm’s length from hitting us.
I knew that was their goal.
After what seemed like forever, we got to the base of the mountain on one of the main roads going toward Willow Creek. As soon as we turned back toward that little city, they turned back up the mountain.
Over the years I have learned a few things about staying safe in the woods from people with bad intentions. Please share this with others.
It could save their lives.
#Bad Vibes: If you feel bad about going into an area don’t go. I believe sometimes this is the Lord telling me to stay away. You may not believe that, but just call it a “gut feeling” and go with it.
#Never Alone: As much as I love to be in the distant forest alone with my camera—don’t you do it. Always bring someone along. Preferably someone who is experienced in the woods. You are far more likely to get hurt by evil people if you are alone.
#Pack Heat: If it’s legal where you are then use your Second Amendment right and carry a firearm. Make sure you are trained in its use and be prepared to do what is necessary.
Better you defend yourself against a maniac than become a statistic. Also, carry a large knife with you. In close quarters it could save your life.
#Study the Area: The Internet is a great tool for studying areas. If you find out an area is a high drug trafficker area for, for example, avoid it like the plague.
Stay away!
I have several areas I no longer frequent because of this issue.
#Stay Calm: If you do encounter people in the woods who seem uneasy or a bit shifty, stay calm. Getting angry or showing fear is a good way to trigger someone who has violent tendencies.
#Travel Plan: Leave your spouse or close friends a travel plan and let them know the points you plan to explore. Give them a time frame. Let them know to call for help if you have not returned by a certain time or day.
#Strategic Parking: Always park your vehicle facing out of the area as you check out. In a tight spot, you don’t want to have to back up and turn around during a retreat. Also park in a spot in a clear area that you can see from a distance. If someone is waiting on you or has moved into the spot, it will give you a chance to assess the situation and prepare.
#Don’t Try to be a Hero: If you see strangers poaching in the woods at night for example, don’t be a hero and try to stop them. They are armed and probably will use their weapons on you if you try to stop them. Call and report activity to local game wardens and get out as quickly as possible.
#Buy And Carry a Beacon: I carry a Spot-X beacon that will alert all rescue personnel at the touch of a button. Don’t rely just on a cell phone. Get a beacon of some kind too.
#Talk To Locals: Not all information is on social media. Talking to locals in a gun shop or sporting goods store can give you good intel on the local region.
Seeking wildlife is one of the most exciting things a person can do, but it has its share of dangers. Keep these tips in mind and you should be available to avoid any serious trouble.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
In December 1945, five U.S. Navy aircraft lifted off from Fort Lauderdale on a routine training mission. The planes were TBM Avenger torpedo bombers, flown by experienced pilots, and the weather was considered flyable when they departed.
None of them ever returned.
According to U.S. Navy records, the group — later known as Flight 19 — became disoriented during navigation exercises and reported that their compasses were malfunctioning. Radio transmissions captured confusion, shifting bearings, and uncertainty about their position over water. Contact was eventually lost.
Despite a massive search involving aircraft and ships, no confirmed wreckage from Flight 19 was ever recovered.
The planes vanished somewhere between the Atlantic, the Gulf, and the edges of the Florida wilderness.
The Everglades were part of the search area.
Flight 19 became one of the most famous aviation mysteries in history, but it was far from the last time an aircraft disappeared without clear explanation.
Ghost planes, like ghost ships, are real. And some of them are still being found.
Others never are.
In many cases, aircraft don’t simply crash and announce themselves. They fly on. They drift. They descend into terrain that absorbs evidence faster than investigators can reach it.
That reality is especially true in places like the Everglades.
According to the National Park Service, the Everglades contain vast, inaccessible wetlands where aircraft wreckage can remain hidden for decades. Dense vegetation, standing water, peat soils, and slow sediment movement can swallow debris and scatter it beyond easy recognition.
Small planes have gone down there and stayed there.
In some cases, they were only discovered years later.
According to historical aviation records, multiple military training aircraft from World War II crashed in or near the Everglades and were not immediately recovered. Some were found long after the war by hunters, airboat operators, or survey crews — their presence unknown to official records until someone stumbled across twisted metal deep in the swamp.
Modern aviation has not eliminated the problem.
In 2017, a small private aircraft disappeared during a flight over the southeastern United States. According to Federal Aviation Administration reports, the plane lost contact with air traffic control and was later found crashed in a remote area far from its expected route.
There was no distress call.
Searchers eventually located the wreckage only because of terrain-specific search techniques, not because of tracking data alone.
In 2007, a single-engine aircraft vanished in Alaska, another environment notorious for absorbing wreckage. According to the National Transportation Safety Board, the plane went missing during a routine flight and was not found until years later, when hikers encountered debris in a remote area.
040324-N-3986D-030 Arabian Gulf (March 24, 2004) Air Traffic Controllers stand watch in the Air Traffic Control Center (CATCC) aboard USS George Washington (CVN 73). The Norfolk, Va.,- based nuclear powered aircraft carrier is on a scheduled deployment in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Official U. S. Navy photo by Photographers Mate Airman Jessica Davis.
By then, much of the context was gone.
Technology helps, but it doesn’t guarantee answers.
Even with GPS, transponders, and satellite tracking, aircraft can still slip into gaps — especially when flying low, in bad weather, or over terrain that limits signal transmission.
According to aviation safety analysts, crashes in wetlands, jungles, oceans, and mountainous terrain are among the hardest to investigate because wreckage disperses quickly and environmental conditions degrade evidence almost immediately.
That’s why some aircraft are found intact but empty.
In rare cases, planes have been discovered abandoned on runways or in remote regions with no crew present. According to international aviation authorities, these incidents are usually tied to emergency landings, criminal activity, or unauthorized flights, but the absence of people still raises questions investigators can’t always answer publicly.
Like ghost ships, ghost planes represent continuity without presence.
A machine does what it was last told to do until physics intervenes.
When a plane disappears, investigators are often left reconstructing its final moments without the benefit of witnesses, recordings, or survivors. In older cases, even flight data recorders didn’t exist.
What remains is a trajectory — and a lot of empty space.
The Everglades, in particular, continue to be one of the most unforgiving places for aviation mishaps. According to search-and-rescue professionals familiar with the region, aircraft can impact shallow water, break apart, and sink into vegetation without producing the kind of debris field typically associated with crashes elsewhere.
From the air, there may be nothing to see.
From the ground, there may be no way to reach it.
That reality has kept some disappearances unresolved for generations.
Flight 19 may be the most famous example, but it represents a broader truth: aircraft don’t always leave answers behind. Sometimes they leave silence, coordinates that stop making sense, and a mystery that never fully resolves.
Ghost planes are not legends.
They are aircraft whose stories ended somewhere humans couldn’t follow.
And in places like the Everglades, that still happens.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
Thick white fur. A heavy, rounded body. A shape that doesn’t belong in Southern pine woods. In a single trail camera frame, it looks less like a feral hog and more like something out of place, almost unreal.
Raul Alcocer sent me this photo and I showed it to a hog hunter-trapper and he called it a “polar bear hog.”
But behind the humor is a more uncomfortable truth. This animal is real, and its existence points back to human decisions that continue to reshape the wild in unpredictable ways.
The photo shows a massive white, woolly hog moving through a forest clearing. It doesn’t resemble the lean, dark feral hogs most hunters know. The coat is thick. The body is heavy. The overall look is startling enough that experienced outdoorsmen questioned what they were seeing.
As the image circulated, similar stories followed. Reports of giant white hogs, unusually thick-coated pigs, and animals that didn’t match modern expectations of wild hogs at all began coming in from across the South.
This isn’t a mystery species. It’s the long shadow of escaped and released domestic animals.
For generations, pigs were imported, bred, traded, abandoned, and sometimes intentionally released. Some were heritage breeds with thick coats and heavy builds. Others escaped farms or were turned loose when they became difficult to manage. Once those animals entered the wild, there was no undoing it.
Their genetics didn’t disappear. They spread.
Over time, those traits mixed into feral populations, resurfacing decades later in animals like this one. The result can be hogs that look nothing like what people expect, even though they are entirely real.
Feral hogs are already one of the most destructive invasive species in North America. They damage crops, destroy habitat, spread disease, and alter ecosystems. Adding unpredictable genetics into the mix only compounds the problem.
Large, heavy-bodied hogs with thick coats may survive colder conditions better, range farther, and compete more aggressively with native wildlife. What began as a domestic decision, a release, an escape, or a failure to contain, becomes a long-term ecological problem.
This isn’t ancient history. It’s still happening.
The “polar bear hog” isn’t a myth or a monster. It’s a reminder. The outdoors carries the consequences of human actions long after people walk away. Animals released into the wild don’t disappear. They adapt, survive, and sometimes come back in forms no one expects.
What looks strange on a trail camera today can become a serious problem tomorrow.
I break down the image, the genetics behind woolly feral hogs, and how escaped and released animals continue to shape the wild in the full video investigation below.
If you’ve encountered unusually large, white, or thick-coated feral hogs, or have firsthand experience with animals escaping or being released, those observations matter. The outdoors is keeping score, whether we acknowledge it or not.
In August 2025, the U.S. Coast Guard boarded a fishing vessel drifting off the Northern California coast that appeared to be operating normally but had no one on board. The 47-foot vessel, Karolee, had been traveling steadily south for days, its lights on and equipment intact.
There were no signs of a struggle. No distress call had been made. And there was no crew.
The Karolee. (Photo: United States Coast Guard)
According to the U.S. Coast Guard, the Karolee had departed from the Pacific Northwest earlier in the week and continued moving along a steady course after its operator vanished. Search crews tracked more than 400 miles of the vessel’s path and covered over 2,000 square miles of ocean using aircraft and surface vessels before suspending the search.
The boat was eventually towed into Humboldt Bay.
The man who had been operating it was never found.
This was not folklore or legend. It was a documented maritime incident handled by federal authorities.
And it wasn’t unique.
Ghost ships — vessels found adrift with no crew aboard — are rare, but they are very real.
The sea has been producing them for centuries.
One of the most famous cases occurred in 1872, when the brigantine Mary Celeste was discovered drifting in the Atlantic Ocean. According to historical records compiled by the Smithsonian Institution, the ship was seaworthy and stocked with food and water, but its crew — including the captain, his wife, and their child — had disappeared.
The lifeboat was missing. There were no signs of violence or severe weather damage. Despite extensive investigation, no definitive explanation was ever reached for why the crew abandoned a functioning vessel in open water.
More than 80 years later, another ghost ship emerged in the Pacific.
The Jovlita
According to maritime investigation summaries, the merchant vessel MV Joyita disappeared in 1955 during a routine voyage between Pacific islands. Five weeks later, it was found drifting with no crew aboard and no lifeboats. Equipment was damaged but not destroyed, and the ship should not have sunk under the conditions reported.
Despite multiple official inquiries, the fate of the passengers and crew remains unknown.
In the modern era, ghost ships have become even more unsettling — not because they are more mysterious, but because they occur despite advanced tracking technology.
According to the Australian Maritime Safety Authority, the tanker Jian Seng was discovered drifting in the Gulf of Carpentaria in 2006 with no crew, no cargo documentation, and no identifying markings. Authorities were unable to determine where the vessel originated or what happened to the people who had been aboard. After being deemed a navigational hazard, the ship was eventually sunk.
Each of these cases shares the same core elements: a functional vessel, essential supplies left behind, and an absence that cannot be easily explained.
What makes modern cases like the Karolee especially disturbing is that today’s oceans are monitored by satellites, AIS tracking systems, radar, and constant radio traffic. Boats are rarely alone for long. When a vessel continues moving without a crew, investigators are left with only a handful of possibilities, none of them reassuring.
According to Coast Guard officials involved in the Karolee case, all required safety equipment remained on board and there were no immediate signs of mechanical failure or emergency. The vessel simply continued on its course after its operator disappeared.
Ghost ships are not evidence of the supernatural. Every case almost certainly has a human explanation. But in many instances, that explanation is lost with the person or people who vanished.
What remains is continuity without presence — engines running, navigation intact, and a ship doing what it was last told to do, long after no one is there to give the next command.
Across centuries and continents, ghost ship cases follow a familiar pattern. The vessel is still seaworthy. Supplies are still on board. There is no obvious sign of violence. And the people who should be there are gone.
Technology has not erased this phenomenon. It has only made it harder to accept.
According to maritime authorities, the Karolee will likely remain an open case unless new evidence emerges. It joins a long list of vessels that continue to challenge the assumption that modern monitoring has closed every gap.
Ghost ships are not relics of the past.
They are still being found.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
The first time my friend and filmmaker Paul Fuzinski and I went into the Everglades and Big Cypress Swamp to investigate reports linked to the Skunk Ape, we approached it as a field problem, not a folklore story.
Florida’s Bigfoot phenomenon has persisted for decades, and we wanted to understand whether some of its core elements — particularly vocalizations and behavior — could point toward feral primates or another biological explanation rooted in the landscape itself.
We went to listen.
South Florida at night is a different world. During the day, the swamps are alive with birds, insects, and human noise bleeding in from roads and towns. After dark, that noise collapses into something more focused. Sound carries farther. Depth becomes difficult to judge. You begin to hear layers instead of individual animals.
It was creepy but cool in The Everglades searching for feral monkeys and apes.
We were working a location that had produced repeated reports of people hearing what they described as “howler monkey–like vocalizations.” These weren’t internet stories or secondhand rumors. They were firsthand accounts from people who knew the woods well enough to recognize when something didn’t belong.
Here’s the Wild Man of the Woods episode from the trip.
After sunset, we shut down the lights and let the swamp settle. Later, we played primate calls in the forest. It was response testing. If something was there, we wanted to know how it behaved.
That night didn’t provide answers.
But it raised better questions.
Why the Southern Bigfoot Narrative Doesn’t Fit Cleanly
Most Bigfoot discussions default to the Pacific Northwest: massive forests, low human density, and distances measured in days of walking. The South doesn’t work like that. Our wild places are fragmented, wet, and biologically dense. They hide animals differently.
Howler monkey.
In the American South — and especially in Florida — the issue isn’t how something avoids being seen. It’s how something avoids being identified.
Swamps distort sound. Vegetation absorbs light. Heat, humidity, and rainfall erase tracks quickly. And unlike the Pacific Northwest, the South has a long, documented history of escaped and released exotic animals, including primates.
That single fact alone demands a different conversation.
Feral Primates Are Not Hypothetical
Florida has hosted non-native primates for decades. Escaped monkeys have survived longer than expected. Small populations have persisted. Primates are intelligent, adaptable, and highly capable of learning how to avoid people.
If even a small number of larger primates — whether escaped, released, or illegally imported — found refuge in deep, inaccessible habitat, their behavior would not resemble zoo animals.
They would behave like wild apes.
This possibility becomes especially relevant when you examine southern Bigfoot reports that don’t line up neatly with the classic Pacific Northwest model.
Some vocalizations reported in the South, particularly those described as long, rolling, guttural calls, align far more closely with howler monkeys than with bears, cats, or known North American wildlife.
That observation is not theoretical. It is based on direct comparison.
During my work investigating reports in Texas and Louisiana, I encountered vocalizations that didn’t match any North American species I knew. I’ve heard cougars, black bears, feral hogs, bobcats, owls, and even jaguars in captivity. None of them produced the sounds I heard in the field.
The closest comparison came years earlier during an excursion into the rainforests of Venezuela, where I encountered howler monkeys. The tone, the power, and the rolling nature of the calls were strikingly similar, though the sounds reported in the South were often more aggressive and varied.
In Texas near the town of Dilley is a feral population of Japanese macaques that have been there since the 1970s.
They are linked to the Born Free Sanctuary and are descendants of animals brought into the United States from their native Japan in the 1970s. There is without question free-ranging monkeys all around that area and I have received numerous photos from hunters in the area over the years.
A Japanese macaque photographed at a deer feeder near Dilley, TX.
How many have escaped the sanctuary over the years or are living in the wild is debatable but their presence in the area is not. And it’s intriguing that these monkeys, sometimes called ‘snow monkeys” due to famous photos showing them near Mount Fuji in the winter have adapted quite well to south Texas hot, dusty habitat.
Florida is also home to thriving communities of non-native monkeys that have captured the imagination of locals and tourists alike.
The story of Florida’s feral monkeys begins decades ago, with the importation of exotic wildlife for the amusement of tourists. In the early 20th century, the Silver Springs attraction in Ocala imported rhesus macaques from Asia, initially as a novelty for their jungle boat tours. These monkeys, however, managed to escape and establish themselves in the surrounding forests.
Florida is currently home to two main species of feral monkeys – rhesus macaques and vervet monkeys. Rhesus macaques are known for their distinctive red faces, while vervets are characterized by their striking blue scrotums (in males) and greenish-gray fur. Both species have adapted remarkably well to their new environment.
Rhesus monkeys in Florida.
Feral monkey populations in Florida are found primarily in three areas:
Silver Springs State Park, Ocala: This is where it all began. The rhesus macaque population here has thrived for decades. They are often seen near the park’s waters, providing visitors with an unexpected wildlife encounter.
Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park: Located along Florida’s Gulf Coast, this park is home to a population of rhesus macaques. They share the habitat with manatees and other native wildlife, creating a unique ecosystem.
Dania Beach and Fort Lauderdale: In the southern part of the state, vervet monkeys have established a presence.
The presence of feral monkeys in Florida has sparked debates about their ecological impact. Concerns include competition with native species for resources and the potential transmission of diseases. Research is ongoing to assess the extent of their impact on local ecosystems.
These feral monkey populations have become a tourist attraction of their own. Visitors flock to Silver Springs State Park and Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park to catch a glimpse of these charismatic primates. Local businesses have also capitalized on the vervet monkeys in the Dania Beach and Fort Lauderdale areas, offering monkey-watching tours.
tions in Florida presents unique challenges. Their adaptability and reproductive rates make it difficult to control their numbers. Efforts have been made to sterilize some individuals to slow population growth, but this approach remains controversial.
A story in The Guardian details an interesting note about one of these populations.
“Researchers at Florida Atlantic University (FAU) say they have traced the colony’s origins to the Dania Chimpanzee Farm. The South Florida Sun Sentinel reported on Wednesday there was a monkey escape from the farm in 1948, with most of the monkeys recaptured. But not all of them. The rest disappeared into a mangrove swamp, where their descendants live today. The FAU team said the colony currently numbers about 41.”
The facility had numerous chimpanzees and was not the only facility with apes in Florida.
According to Roadside America, Mae Noell’s Chimp Farm was a resilient gulf coast retirement home for gorillas, orangutans, and chimps. It was closed in 2007.
Cryptozoologists have pondered if reports of skunk apes that look more orangutan-like than standard bigfoot repots could be the result of surviving and perhaps breeding populations of escaped apes.
One of the more interesting cryptozoological reports tied to skunk apes of the last 25 years involves the case of Florida’s mysterious Myakka Ape.
The Myakka Ape photo. Looks like an orangutan, doesn’t it?
Loren Coleman reported on this orangutan-like creature that allegedly was taking fruit off of a woman’s porch near the Myakka River in Florida. Photos were mailed to local law enforcement. It looks very much like an orangutan, but no one has been able to prove exactly what the creature is.
There are numerous reports of primates in the South that do not fit the normal bigfoot profile. Could these be the results of feral monkey or ape sightings?
Loren Coleman and Patrick Huyghe weigh in on this topic in their book The Field Guide to Bigfoot and Other Mysterious Primates.
They identify a classification called “Giant Monkeys”.
“Some of the mystery primates around the world describe what appear to be enormous monkeys.”
They talk specifically about the “devil monkey”, a strange giant monkey that apparently has an attitude. This isn’t the place to dive deep on these reports, but I thought feral primates and strange cryptid monkeys deserved a mention in the discussion of Bigfoot South.
The most interesting report of all is linked to East Texas conservation giant, the man credited with conserving the Big Thicket Lance Rosier. It is covered in Pete Gunter’s A Challenge For Conservation.
“It seems that one day someone found the remains of what was described as a baboon alongside a Hardin County highway. The story goes that a passing one ring circus had a passing in its meager menagerie and simply dumped the remains.”
It was reportedly brought to Rosier for identification.
He said, “From the look on its face and its stooped neck, and the callouses on the seat of its britches, I’d say it’s a retired East Texas domino player.”
Sounds like a baboon to me.
Feral apes would not explain all or even most of the reports in Florida but they could explain some of them.
And I personally would love to have a camera in hand coming face to face with a feral orangutan in the deep Everglades.
It would be scary but also quite awesome!
(If you have encountered a feral primate, heard strange vocalizations or seen something unusual in the woods email your report to chester@chestermoore.com.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
Wilderness crime scenes are fundamentally different from those found in towns or cities. When violence or disappearance occurs in forests, mountains, or state parks, the environment itself begins altering evidence almost immediately.
Weather, wildlife activity, and distance from roads and witnesses all complicate investigations in ways that are difficult to overcome, even for experienced law enforcement and search-and-rescue teams.
For most people, wilderness is a place of quiet — a place to retreat from the rhythms of everyday life. But they can also be places where ordinary expectations of safety dissolve, and where violence can happen without witness, without context, and sometimes without closure.
In July 2025, at Devil’s Den State Park in Arkansas, that quiet was shattered. Clinton David Brink and Cristen Amanda Brink were hiking a wooded trail with their young daughters when both adults were stabbed to death.
Their daughters, aged seven and nine, were found unharmed nearby. Police charged 28-year-old Andrew James McGann with capital murder and said DNA evidence tied him to the scene; authorities have described the attack as random and without known connection between suspect and victims.
The Brink murders drew national attention precisely because they occurred in a place most people think of as benign — a state park with defined trails, familiar terrain, and an assumption of safety. But once violence enters a landscape like that, the land itself becomes part of the story: trails become crime scenes, tree cover thins evidence, and distance from roads slows response.
The Case That Never Closed
Not all wilderness cases end with an arrest or even a clear explanation.
In 2015, 82-year-old Thomas E. Messick Sr. disappeared while deer hunting in the Lake George Wild Forest of New York’s Adirondacks. Messick, a lifelong hunter, was with a group on a well-organized hunt when he was last seen by his companions at a pre-arranged point in the woods.
When the group regrouped as planned, he was gone. Despite one of the largest coordinated searches in the region — covering nearly thirty square miles with search dogs, helicopters, forest rangers, and hundreds of volunteers — no trace of Messick has ever been found: no rifle, no clothes, no identifiable tracks. His case remains open, ten years on, a reminder that disappearance in wilderness does not always equate with known cause or conclusion.
Few cases illustrate the gulf between expectation and reality in wild places like this one.
Messick’s experience wasn’t an accident in public memory, but a mystery without physical answers — no body, no confirmed sighting, no closure. Search resources have resurged periodically, often coinciding with training exercises and anniversaries, but always without new breakthroughs.
Why Wilderness Crime Scenes Are Different
Investigators and search-and-rescue professionals know that the forest, mountains, and other remote terrain present unique challenges:
Time erodes evidence. Rain, wind, and heat degrade material traces that might survive for days in urban contexts.
Animals alter scenes. Scavengers can move clothing or remains, creating confusion about the sequence of events.
Distance delays discovery. In places without cell service, hours can pass before any human re-entry.
In the Brink case, the environment complicated initial response, with investigation relying on DNA and public tips to track a suspect who was later arrested far from the park. CBS News
In the Messick disappearance, even the most systematic search grid left only questions.
Disappearance As Investigation
When someone goes missing in wild places, the lines between accident, natural causes, and foul play blur. Outdoors, there is no frame, no camera, and often no witness to set context. For every resolved homicide like the one at Devil’s Den, there are disappearances like Messick’s where the forest keeps its silence.
It is those silences — the unknowns — that linger most deeply in the public imagination. Not just the wilderess crimes themselves, but what the land allows to be lost without notice or answer.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
For decades, people across Texas and the Southwest have reported strange hairless creatures attacking livestock — animals many claimed were the legendary Chupacabra.
But the real explanation is just a strange and we have it on my latest YouTube video.
In this Dark Outdoors® video episode and wildlife investigatio cross-over I break down the true wildlife science behind “Chupacabra” sightings and shows how coyotes, foxes, raccoons — and even bears — suffering from severe mange can transform into nightmarish creatures.
You’ll see:
What coyotes with mange REALLY look like
Why mange causes extreme hair loss, blackened skin, and deformities
How predators change behavior when sick, making them seem “mysterious” or “unnatural”
The difference between myth, hoax, and legitimate wildlife cases
This was an interesting topic to tackle and it’s one that will probably generate some controversy because I do believe there is a pretty simple solution to a very strange legend.
Chester Moore
Follow Chester Moore on the following social media platforms
