Hydra spotted in Ventnor

I was sitting with a coffee at Besty & Spinky’s seafront café in Ventnor on an unusually foggy Monday morning. The harbour had almost completely vanished behind a thick wall of mist, and even the waves sounded distant and muted. At first, I noticed something odd moving in the fog beyond the old pavilion. It looked like a crane arm or perhaps a mast from a ship. Then it moved again. And then another appeared. Within seconds, five enormous necks rose out of the sea. I nearly dropped my coffee. The creature towered above the harbour walls, each serpent-like head scanning the coastline. Its scales glistened with seawater, and its eyes shone a strange amber colour through the mist. For a moment, the entire seafront fell silent. Even the gulls seemed to disappear. Nobody else seemed to know what to do. A few people pointed. One person took out a phone. Another simply turned around and walked away as if seeing a giant mythological monster before breakfast was a perfectly normal Isle of Wight occurrence. The Hydra slowly emerged from the water, revealing a body as large as the harbour itself. One head peered curiously at the pavilion. Another inspected a parked van. A third seemed fascinated by a string of blue-and-white bunting fluttering in the breeze. Then, quite unexpectedly, all five heads sneezed. The resulting wave soaked half the promenade. Realising it had caused a commotion, the colossal beast let out what sounded suspiciously like an embarrassed growl. It turned back towards the sea and slipped silently into the fog. Within moments it was gone. Fortunately, I'd managed to take a photograph. These days, whenever there's a foggy morning in Ventnor, locals still glance out towards the harbour. Just in case the Hydra decides to come back and finish inspecting the bunting. And I'm still convinced it preferred coffee over tea.