Mermaid Sighting on Navy Boat

Nationality: American
Age: 85
Occupation: retired
Residence: Tustin, CA
Language: English

Text

“Back in the mid-60s I served in the U.S. Navy. At this time, the Vietnam War was going on and I was stationed somewhere in the South of France. I forgot how to pronounce it at this point. Maybe it was Toulon or Cannes. It’s been so long.

Sometimes in the Navy, we would have to be on the boat for weeks at a time. After a while, it felt like we were all going crazy on there. Tight quarters are no joke. 

One evening, I was out on the deck with my buddy Thompson, talking about how we miss our family and home. Then he jumps up and points at something jumping out of the water. “It’s a mermaid.” “A mermaid.” Now let me tell you, seeing this man get excited over some human fish was something else. 

At first, I didn’t believe that it was a mermaid but maybe more a dolphin or flying fish. But I could tell that something about this one felt off. It looked like it had hair. It was jumping around too much to really tell if it was human or just fish. I like to believe that maybe it was a mermaid. It sometimes feels like being out at sea makes life feel like the world is playing tricks on my eyesight, since I have bad eyes. This could be why I couldn’t tell if it was a real mermaid or not. I hope it was.”

Context

This is a firsthand, lived experience of a sailor in the U.S. Navy in the mid-1960s during the Vietnam War. The story takes placed while stationed off the southern coast of Fance which is important because Mediterranean ports usually were used by allied forces. The event is told with a mix of sincerity and playfulness showing that while the informant may not claim absolute belief in seeing the mermaid, the memory is meaningful and endearing. The mention of “bad eyes” adds a layer of ambiguity and humility by acknowledging the unreliability of perception at sea while still leaving space for belief.

His story is also not just shaped by visual experience but also by the social environment of navla life which includes stress, fatigue, nostalgia and boredom. All of these can affect how events are perceived and remembered. 

The informant doesn’t fully commit to the sighting being a mermaid but clearly wants to believe it could have been. This reflects how folk belief becomes a coping mechanism especially in isolated, high-stress environments like life at sea during wartime. This story also is not just about seeing a mermaid; it’s about missing family, home, and human connection. The mermaid becomes a symbol of those desires: beauty, mystery, and something beyond the naval life. 

Interpretation

At the core of this story, it is about loneliness and the fragile human psyche under stress. The story begins with a quiet, human moment between two sailors reflecting on the things they missed most while being overseas. This setting of emotional vulnerability frames the entire experience. When the narrator’s friend spots what be believes is a mermaid, the narrator reacts with both skepticism and curiosity. While he questions what he say, he still says “I hope it was” revealing a deeper desire to believe in something beautiful and magical amidst the harshness of life at sea. This detail reflects the emotional strain of military service especially during long deployments. The physical confinement of the ship underscores the mental stress that comes from routine, distance from loved ones, and the inability to escape one’s surroundings. The mermaid, real or not, becomes a symbol of hope, wonder, and escape.

This story also taps into a long-standing tradition in seafaring cultures which is the myth of the mermaid. Across history, sailors have told stories of mysterious sea creatures, especially during extended perios at sea when sensory deprivation, homesickness, and boredom blur the line between reality and imagination. The narrator’s openness to the idea of having seen a mermaid despite his doubts, reflects a cultural value placed on keeping wonder alive even in adulthood and even in uniform. These stories serve a psychological purpose of injectubg mystery and storytelling into an otherwise repetitive experience. Folklore in this context becomes a coping tool and a shared language of meaning among naval members. 

Also, set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, this story captures the emotional and mental toll of military displacement. Though the narrator was stationed far from the combat zones, the mental and emotional experience of being in the Navy during wartime shaped how he processed the world around him.

When the narrator mentions his poor eyesight and how “the world plays tricks” on him at sea, he gestures toward something profound: the way military life can distort time, space, and perception. Long deployments blur days together, and the vast, empty sea becomes a canvas for imagination and longing.

The memory, recalled decades later, is preserved not for its certainty but for what it represents. It lingers because it carries emotional weight, not because it demands scientific proof. The story becomes a piece of personal folklore, where truth is measured more in feeling than in fact.

Dwende

Nationality: Filipino
Age: 89
Occupation: Retired
Residence: Tustin, CA
Language: English

Text:

“When I was around 16 or 17, my siblings and I would sit on top of the logging trains in the mountain province of the Philippines. We had so much fun sneaking around and using this as transportation. It was not allowed, and we could get caught by the polic,e but it was free and easier than driving. 

My mother would warn us not to do this because of the dwende. They are these little people that live in the woods. The dwende are mischievous, and my mother was worried that they might play tricks on us. Other people in my village also would say that the dwende are the guardians of all of nature. They punish anyone who disrespects the land but they reward people who are kind. 

One day, I was with my brother on the logging train when the train stopped. Maybe it was a tire or the engine but we waited and waited for hours and it still did not move. When it became nighttime, I got worried that the dwende might catch us. My brother told me not to worry but of course I did. We had to sleep outside and who knows what is in the forest.

I tried to stay awake as long as possible this night because I didn’t want to get caught off guard. My brother didn’t care and slept anyways. When it was really late, I was watching the stars when I saw a line of torches and the sounds of drums coming from the mountainside. I shook my brother awake to tell him the dwende are here to get us. By the time my brother woke up, the lights and drumming disappeared. He did not believe me when I told him what I witnessed but I know what I saw.”

Context:

The informant’s relationship to this piece is that it is a first-person account making it a memorate. Her relationship to this piece is both personal and intergenerational. The belief in the dwende comes from her mother’s warnings suggesting a transmission of folklore through family. The information respected but didn’t fully fear the dwende at first until the moment she was stranded in the woods with her brother which triggered anxiety and gave cultural meaning to her fear.

The informant first learned about the dwende from her mother, whose role in the story is protective and cautionary. This positions her mother as a cultural gatekeeper, passing down ancestral knowledge and reinforcing social boundaries. She also mentions that others in her village believed in dwende confirming that this wasn’t just a family tale but a shared communicable belief within her region in the mountain province.

The informant doesn’t claim to have seen the dwende directly, but her interpretation of the unexplained event, the torchlights and drumming in the mountains, is filtered through the folklore. In a moment of fear, isolation, and natural vulnerability, the dwende become a way of explaining the unknown. The forest is no longer just wilderness, it becomes spiritually alive. The story reflects a deep-seated cultural respect and fear for nature, especially at night, a liminal time often associated with spiritual activity. Though her brother dismisses the sighting, the informant is firm in her belief: “I know what I saw.” This underscores the validity of personal experience in folk belief, even when it goes unconfirmed by others.

Interpretation:

This memorate is told from the point of view of a teenager engaging in somewhat rebellious acts which is riding logging trains illegally. This context is important because it sets up a contrast between modern youthful behavior and traditional cautionary wisdom. The informant’s mother warns against this behavior not just for practical safety reasons but because of spiritual consequnces invoking the dwende who are mystical beings believed to punish those who disrespect nature.

This shows how family serves as a conduit for cultural memory and belief. The mother’s warning isn’t just folklore, it’s a serious, moral teaching grounded in both love and live tradition. The informant’s recollection of this advice during a moment of fear reveals that such stories are not just superstitions to be dismissed, but internalized frameworks used to interpret and survive the world.

At the heart of this narrative is a spiritual relationship with nature. In many indigenous Filipino belief systems, particularly in the mountain provinces, nature is not inert; it is inhabited by spirits and entities, such as the dwende, who serve as guardians of the land. 

The train stalling in the middle of the forest and the resulting sense of helplessness is interpreted not as a mechanical failure but as a possible punishment or omen. The strange torchlights and drumming deepen the sense of mystery and sacredness of the place. The informant fears not animals or criminals, but spiritual retribution, which reflects how natural spaces are culturally coded as spiritual spaces, deserving of respect and even fear. This worldview contrasts sharply with exploitative or secular perspectives of nature. The dwende myth functions to preserve environmental boundaries, discouraging intrusion, destruction, or careless behavior.

The fear the informant experiences is not simply personal, it is culturally shaped. Their anxiety, triggered by the torchlights and sounds, is filtered through the belief in dwende, taught by their mother and affirmed by their village. In this way, folk beliefs become tools for processing the unknown, especially in situations where logic fails. Moreover, the dwende serve as figures of moral judgment. Their mythology reinforces a code of behavior: be respectful, stay humble, don’t overstep. This aligns with broader Filipino values like “pakikisama” (smooth interpersonal relations) and “galang” (respect)—even applied to the land and unseen spirits.

The Monkey and the Turtle

Nationality: Filipino American
Age: 36
Occupation: Physician Assistant
Residence: Mission Viejo, CA
Language: English

Text

“I’m 36 now but I still remember the way my mom would tell me this story when I was a kid. It was about a monkey and turtle. I must’ve heard it a hundred tmes but I never got tired of it. Mostly it was because of the way she told it and how it was half a joke and half a warning.

She’d start by saying how the monkey and turtle were friends or at least pretended to be friends. One day, they found a banana tree and decided to split it. The monkey, who was so sure he was the smart one, took the top half of the tree with all the leaves, bragging that he got the better deal. He gave the turtle the roots laughing the whole time, thinking nothing would actually grow from it.

But obviously, it was the turtle’s half that actually grew. Slowly, steadily, it became a tall, beautiful banana tree full of fruit. My mom would say ‘patience pays off’ to this part.

Now, the turtle couldn’t climb, so he asked the monkey to help pick the bananas. The monkey agreed, but the moment he got up there, he gobbled all the fruit down. Not even one for the turtle. Just laughed and wiped his mouth, like it was all his.

That’s where the turtle got clever. Depending on her mood, my mom would switch up the ending. Sometimes the turtle tricks the monkey into getting stuck in a trap. Othertimes he convinces other animals to help him get justice. But the lesson was always the same.

Don’t be greedy and don’t ever underestimate someone just because they’re small or quiet. I think about that story sometimes, especially when I feel overlooked or underestimated. I remind myself to be like the turtle.”

Context

This is a personal and intergenerational connection to the story. The informant learned of the tale as a child from her mother who told it frequently with a variation on the ending. The story telling itself was not just about the content but also the performance. This indicated that the story functioned both as entertainment and as a moral guide. 

This story was heard repeatedly in a domestic, intimate setting as part of family storytelling. This kind of informal transmission is typical of folklore and emphasizes the role of parents as custodians of cultural knowledge, The tale was not simply a one-time lesson but a recurrent ritual, suggesting its importance in shaping the informant’s early moral and emotional understanding.

The fact that the mother would change the ending depending on her mood also shows how folklore is flexible, living, and adaptive, not static. The story wasn’t just memorized. It was performed and personalized, making each retelling a reflection of both the storyteller and the moment.

The tale of the turtle and the monkey becomes a symbolic framework through which the informant understands injustice, patience, cleverness, and self-worth for the narrator. 

Interpretation

While the story may appear to be a simple trickster tale between two animals, it serves as a powerful piece for transmitting life lessons, cultural values, and intergenerational wisdom. The story’s enduring presence in the informant’s memory speaks to its emotional impact and symbolic function. 

The dual tone of the story being told by the informant’s in half joke and half warning way reflects a unique form of maternal teaching. It blended humor with caution. This shows how storytelling was used not just to entertain but to guide behavior and shape outlook.

The repeated phrase “patience pays off” stands out as a core moral takeaway. For the informant, this phrase transcends the story; it has become a kind of personal philosophy. As an adult, she still turn to this lesson when feeling “overlooked or underestimated,” suggesting the turtle’s quiet perseverance has become a model of identity, one rooted in humility, resilience, and inner strength.

At a cultural level, this version of the monkey and turtle reflects important Filipino values which include resourcefulness over strength, respect for fairness and justice, and oral tradition and adaptability. These two animals are representations of character types found in both traditional Filipino society and modern life: the arrogant trickster and the humble underdog. These roles speak to common tensions between power and virtue, privilege and persistence, and make the story relevant across time and generations.

La Virgen de Guadelupe

Nationality: Mexican American
Age: 45
Occupation: Highschool religion teacher
Residence: Orange, CA
Language: English

Text

“A story that stood out to me growing up was of La Virgen de Guadalupe. I first hear it from my abuela. For her, La Virgen was someone you prayed to when you needed protection or when money was tight. The legend I remember best is the most basic version I know of La Virgen. In 1531, a man named Juan Diego was walking near Tepeyac Hill and he saw a woman appear in front of him. She was glowing and standing in the light. She spoke to him in his native language, Nahuatl, and told him she was the Virgin Mary. She asked him to tell the bishop to build a church on that hill in her honor.

The bishop pretty much brushed him off. But Juan Diego went back, and the Virgin appeared again, telling him to keep trying. Eventually, she gave him a sign, roses growing on a hill in the middle of December, which was strange on its own. He collected them in his tilma, and when he opened it for the bishop, the flowers fell and her image was imprinted on the cloth.

To me this felt more than just a religious legend. It was a mixture of religion, culture, and identity. She didn’t appear to someone powerful, she appeared to an Indigenous convert. She spoke his language. That says a lot. It’s about how faith and culture meet. La Virgen represents more than just Catholic devotion. She’s about survival, about being seen, especially when you feel invisible in society.

I grew up here in L.A., and you’d see La Virgen everywhere on murals, candles, and rearview mirrors. But it wasn’t just decoration. She meant something to people.”

Context 

This narrative reflects a personal and culturally rooted relationship with the legend of La Virgen de Guadelupe framed through the lived experience of someone raised in a Hispanic household in Los Angeles. The informant first heard the story from his abuela which situates the legend within an intimate and intergenerational context that emphasizes the role of oral tradition and familial storytelling in transmitting religious and cultural identity.

For the informant, this story is associated with his grandmother’s guidance and the emotional comfort of turning to La Virgen in times of need. This positions this legend not only as a religious icon but as a personal protector. 

By recalling the “basic version” of the legend, the informant shows how the essence of the story, Juan Diego, the roses,  and the tilma, remains powerful even in its simplest form. It highlights how the core message has stayed intact across generations, despite the complexities of life, migration, or assimilation.

The informant first heard the story from his grandmother, indicating that the oral transmission of faith and folklore was part of their upbringing. The fact that the story was passed down at home, not just through formal religious education, reinforces how cultural narratives like that of La Virgen serve as both spiritual and cultural inheritance.

Additionally, growing up in Los Angeles, the informant recalls seeing La Virgen “everywhere” reflects how she is visually embedded in urban Chicano/Latino spaces. This widespread visibility of La Virgen, even outside of religious spaces, turns her into a cultural anchor and a visual reminder of identity and resistance. Her image is not simply decorative; it is a symbol of recognition and belonging, especially for those who often go unseen. Through this lens, the legend becomes a profound expression of faith as survival and folklore as cultural memory.

Interpretation

The informant’s recollection of the legend of La Virgen de Guadalupe, first heard from his grandmother, is more than just a childhood memory. It’s a profound example of how folklore operates as a living expression of identity, resilience, and faith within a cultural community. The narrative carries layered meanings that reflect personal significance, cultural continuity, and historical consciousness.

For the grandmother, La Virgen wasn’t just a religious icon, she was someone you turned to in difficult times: for protection, when money was tight, or when things felt uncertain. This portrayal shows how religious folklore is not abstract, it is woven into everyday life as a source of emotional and spiritual support.

The informant’s  interpretation reveals that La Virgen is not only a figure of devotion but also a source of dignity and validation, especially for those who feel “invisible in society.” In this way, the story has functioned as a personal guidepost, reinforcing strength, hope, and identity in moments of marginalization or uncertainty.

The legend’s content—the appearance of the Virgin Mary to Juan Diego, an Indigenous man who spoke Nahuatl, rather than to a priest or colonial authority figure, is a powerful cultural message. The informant underscores this detail, interpreting it as a symbol of divine recognition of the marginalized. It’s not just about religious belief; it’s about who is seen, who is heard, and who matters.

La Virgen de Guadalupe’s story is also a product of historical syncretism, where Catholicism and Indigenous beliefs merged during colonization. The informant may not explicitly use this term, but his description of La Virgen as a symbol where “faith and culture meet” acknowledges this fusion.

By highlighting how La Virgen appeared not to the powerful but to a humble, Indigenous convert, the informant gestures toward a deeper historical truth: that folklore and faith can be tools of both resistance and healing, preserving dignity in the face of systemic erasure.

Whispers of a ghost

Date_of_performance: 03/29/2025

Informant Name: BT

Language: English 

Nationality: American

Occupation: Student 

Primary Language: English

Residence: Los Angeles 

Interview:

BT: I don’t necessarily believe, like I have my own spiritual beliefs. So like I don’t necessarily fully believe in ghosts, but like I have had like my own like parental experience.

BT: My mom is a realtor and she like does probably way more than like a realtor should do. Like she does like duties in her work that she’s, I’m like, okay, you should like have the client probably do that. But these clients like moved out of their house. And they left it like a little bit messy. But I think that they were probably like in a hurry to move out and everything.

BT: So she’s like, Hey, can you guys, like to me and my older sister, can you guys go and help me clean this stuff? We’re like, Yeah, of course.

BT: So, we went to the house and it was like, main floor was kind of big, upstairs was like a little lost.area and then downstairs like you walk down the stairs and there’s a room on this side of the room. *she gestures to the left with her hands*

BT: So we, my sister and I went downstairs, my mom stayed upstairs and I go and it’s scary because I don’t know if it’s a paranormal experience or if someone was literally in the house.But I go downstairs and I’m like first, like I’m going down and my sister’s going down behind me. And I look to the right in this room, it’s dark. It’s like after the sun went down, so it’s also dark outside. And I look in that room, don’t see anything.

BT: I look to my left and then there’s like a walkout basement, it’s a walkout basement, so there was a door. The door was open. *pause* The door was wide open, like leading to outside. So I was like, okay. I was like, let me just go shut it, ’cause we were like, maybe it was the wind, like maybe the family didn’t lock in.

ME: Yeah. Yeah

BT: And I had no explanation as to why it was open. So I went from the stairs into the room, the door was here, I closed the door, and I walked in.

ME: Okay.

BT: On my way back, I kind of stop here, so like here’s the stairs. My sister’s at the bottom. And I’m like, to my sister, oh, I don’t know why that was, I don’t know why that was open.

BT: But like, I don’t really survey the rest of the room. ‘Cause I was like, kind of jogging back because I was freaked out by the door being opened. And so as I’m saying that to my sister, and suddenly I hear heavy breathing…

ME: Oh my god! That’s terrifying.

BT: I hear very like heavy breathing from like the corner of the room, but it’s dark, so I can’t really see. It’s like shadowy, so I’m like, and I don’t even take a look. It’s like shadowy, so I’m like, and I don’t even take a look or even want to look back.

BT: I literally, I swear like adrenaline, I think. I literally carried my sister like up the stairs, ’cause I was pushing her, like she didn’t hear it.

ME: Oh my god.

BT: that I literally carried my sister like up the stairs, ’cause I was pushing her, like she didn’t hear it. She was like at the bottom of the stairs. And I was like, go, like go, go, go, go, pushing her up the stairs trying to get out. So we literally ran up the stairs and like fell, like I literally fell up the stairs. Once I got to the top, I fell on the ground. Once I got to the top, I fell on the ground. My mom was standing at the top of the stairs because she heard us running up in a hurry and she was like “What the heck just happened?” And I was like, I think that there’s someone downstairs.

ME: Oh my god.

BT: And I told her I heard someone breathing right in my ear. And I was like, someone literally opened the door and the door is open, so I think a person was downstairs. And so my mom was like, “Okay, let me go check.” She goes down and there’s no one.

ME: That’s crazy!

BT: So I’m like, either it was a real person, which is even scary to me. It’s like they waited  before my mom got down there, and they’re gone. So that was my only like– Oh my god. Yeah, and it just felt eerie and weird and scary to me.

ME: No, that would freak me out.

BT: Yeah, it was freaky. It was probably like 8 o’clock we had gotten there. So it was like sun was going down and then by the time we went downstairs, it was dark.

ME: That would be the last time im every entering that house again.

BT: Exactly! It’s like I’m not messing with it. I’m not messing with any ghosts in there. But that’s my personal paranormal experience. I hope that is helpful!

ME: That’s perfect! That’s amazing!

My interpretation

I want to believe that this was a ghost that my friend heard down in the basement. If it was a person, I feel like she would’ve heard footsteps if they walked back inside or coming up behind her. And since her mom is a realtor, she definitely would’ve down a check down there after the clients left or heard the door open. Her sister also didn’t hear the whisper herself, so it likely is a ghost. And if it was someone trying to scare her, they would’ve done more than just breathe, they could’ve talked or grabbed her arm to really freak her out. She mentioned how she has her own spiritual beliefs and that could fall under believing in ghosts. This also could be a psychological feeling, she got freaked out by the door being opened and thought she heard something, since her mom didn’t see anything, so I am leaning towards it being a ghost or her imagination.