His lifestyle might be unconventional ("Hand to mouth - I like
it that way"), his vocation extraordinary, if not inconceivable. Yet he
is articulate, engaging and pretty convincing. Still, despite all
appearances to the contrary, you are inclined to think that Steve
Feltham is surely stark raving bonkers.
You do not, after all, abandon a comfortably ordinary lifestyle in
Dorset to live in a van that has seen better days on the edge 
of
Loch Ness, in often-brutal weather, unless you are a few pennies short
of a pound (he is, but only in the literal sense). You do not, unless
you are seriously round the twist, publicise a passionate belief in the
existence of the Loch Ness monster. And however deranged you might be,
you surely do not spend eight years doing little else but sitting on a
beach in the hope that the elusive beast might show you its humps. Or
do you?
Indulging your obsession is one thing, escaping the rat
race is another - but there is a lot to be said for waking up to an
impossibly beautiful sunrise every day, knowing that you have
absolutely nothing to do but follow your own dreams - however absurd
they might seem to those who boast a semi-detached, a fleet car and a
fitted kitchen. He steps out of his modest four-wheeled home (boldly
emblazoned with his one-man company name, Nessie-serry Independent
Research), swiftly followed by his four-legged friend, an excitable
collie called Tara. You'll see him on TV from time to time, patiently
explaining his reasons for giving the unexplained his all.
"It just makes me laugh when people look at what I do and assume that I
must be a bit crazy," he says. "I'm absolutely and totally doing what I
want to do and I'm not doing it for anyone else's benefit. I find that
as the years go on, when people turn up with a closed mind on the
subject, I'm not going to waste an hour arguing the case just for them
to still go away totally blinkered. I'm not here to open their minds."
Hours spent on un-believers, you see, mean less hours spent watching
for ripples, splashes or indeed any slight movement on the loch. To
this end, he employs a high-powered pair of binoculars and a Hi-8
camera, the aim being to capture a definitive image of Nessie that will
persuade sceptics and scientists alike. In eight years of observation,
his conviction has never wavered, despite a lack of evidence that would
discourage most. "Six 
years
ago I was at Fort Augustus around 11am and I saw two-feet-high waves -
something definitely went through there. It was almost like a jet ski.
You could see something in the centre of the waves. If anything I get
more convinced as time goes on. I suppose I had some sort of three-year
idea in mind. But it's just going to take longer. Being here and
hearing what local fisherman who've been here 20 to 30 years have seen
- that's what makes me even more sure.
"I suppose obsession is one
way of describing it. But the way I see it, this is such a small
country we're living in and we now understand just about every inch of
it. Well, this is something we don't have an explanation for. It's
inevitable that we have to admit there's something unexplained in Loch
Ness. I have to accept that the first thing I film probably isn't going
to be the final piece of evidence. I'll carry on until the mystery is
solved - until we've got to the bottom of it." Maybe, though, it's more
love affair than obsession - one that began when a seven-year-old boy
arrived in Loch Ness on a family holiday in 1970. He went to the local
exhibition with his father, who bought him a Nessie portfolio as a
souvenir. That was all it took.
"You know when you're in your English lesson and the teacher says 'Give
a talk on your favourite subject'? Well, after that holiday I had a
ready-made lecture to give my class. After that I started reading books
on it, and from there I was just hooked.
"In adult life, I would take two weeks' summer holiday to come up here
and I thought I would be able to solve it in that time. But I rapidly
realised that that just wasn't going to be the case."
In 1991, when the lure of Loch Ness became too strong to ignore, he
gave up his job, sold his house and embarked on full-time
monster-watching, summer and winter, rain, shine or driving snow.
"For ten years I was a potter and a book binder and also a graphic
artist. At that time I was quite content to come up for two weeks a
year. Then I spent three years installing burglar alarms, which was a
very lucrative business, but in the end I realised that there must be
more to life than chasing money. "I think friends and family could see
it coming. They could see my enthusiasm just growing and growing. But I
think they thought it would maybe last a season at the most. In the
first season I got involved with a lot of television, so it was a
pretty intense time of filming and interviewing. But since then I've
always tried not to plan. I do things as the mood takes me. On calm
days I've gone for surface observation, but until I get a first picture
I'm watching from different vantage points and getting local people's
stories.
"I wouldn't say there's an average day. If the weather's good I'll get
out here early and watch from the binoculars. Sometimes I could be out
from first thing till last thing. I have a 15-foot rigid inflatable
boat, so I might take that out for a while. It's pretty unpredictable.
As soon as I get bored with watching the loch I'll do something else.
It's total freedom and it's what I've chosen. Boredom doesn't enter
into it. I have no regrets whatsoever." Over the years he has become a
well-known face around the loch, and locals are quite happy to share
their gossip. Some might have a chuckle at the fact that Nessie-serry
Research bases itself so close to a pub (he is barely a stone's throw
away), but most will tell you he is a likeable kind of lad, even if he
is an in-comer. In fact, the van was a mobile viewing unit until the
MOT ran out, but that's the price you pay for following your own
vision. "This side of the loch is a lot less commercial anyway," he
says. "I like this spot - you can get right down on the water's edge."
He supplements his income of donations by making clay Nessie models, which sell well in nearby craft shops.
"Somebody said to me I bet you've seen this monster, but you're not
saying anything because it doesn't look anything like your models!"
He still has no firm idea of what he is looking for, but his concept is
nonetheless unusual. "I'm open-minded, but I think there are 20 to 30
of them in there. There have been incidents where people have seen two
on the surface one woman even saw three. It's not just one big crusty
old monster. I think there's a small colony." He is also quick to
reject assumptions that, whether singular or plural, Nessie would have
a hard time getting a meal a day out of the loch. "People talk about a
small population of fish in there. But they admit that migratory salmon
and trout are not taken into the total. Neither is the large population
of eels. These would double the calculation of fish numbers. There's a
layer of fish in the first five feet, which is the roof of these
creatures' world. That's why we have been able to see them at all. If
that layer of fish was down at 20 feet we wouldn't know these animals
were in there."
Why, then, have none of these local stories produced a credible picture
in all these years? Simple, he says. "There isn't a local person I know
of who actually carries a camera - and they all walk their dogs along
the beach every day. I think it's got to do with the Highland
characteristic. They're used to being blasé about the fact they've got
a monster in this loch. I mean, they talk about the northern lights and
they say 'Och, that's the northern lights, have you not seen them
before?' "The media have a lot of responsibility for the fact that the
public perception is a joke. That's why locals don't describe what
they're seeing any more. The only stories that get into the public
domain are the sensational ones. Then sceptics sit at their breakfast
tables and say 'Of course, it's just a boat wake.' It's short-term gain
for journalists and long-term damage to any kind of sensible research.
"What really sets us back is the slowness of the evidence coming
forward and the limitations of our abilities to see under the surface.
Technology will move on another stage eventually and we'll be able to
look through the water and see what there is. "This is the biggest shop
window in the world. Zoologists will one day come and say 'Oh well, I
thought that all along.' "Loch Ness is the Champs Elysees of Scotland.
People say that you sit on the Champs Elysees and the whole world will
pass you by. This is just the same. You just never know what's going to
come along next."
Robert Rines
Robert Rines (continued)
Tim Dinsdale
The Feeding Habits of Nessie
Analysis of the Dinsdale Film
Map of Loch Ness
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