Hong Kong is possibly the most enigmatic place on earth. A cultural, economic, political and ethnological cross-roads, it has been described as 'a little piece of the Home Counties tacked onto the edge of Southern China', and it is also, undoubtedly the only part of mainland China to have escaped the ravages of fifty years of Communism. Despite its reputation as the world centre for lassez faire capitalism and 21st Century technology the twin influences of British and earlier Chinese Imperialism were instrumental in producing the place we know today! Despite its high population density (six million or more people in an area somewhat smaller than the Isle of Wight), and its appalling problems with pollution and urbanisation, it has a rich and varied wildlife. Its position at the 'cross-over' between the tropical and Eurasian geographical areas has given it a unique fauna, which in many ways has a similar relationship with the zoology of the Pacific rim, as Hong Kong itself has with the socio-political and economic infrastructure of the same area.

Fortean Zoologists Jonathan Downes and Richard Muirhead, who spent much of their lives in Hong Kong, have made a special study of the animals of Hong Kong. They believe that some of what they have discovered has significance far beyond the borders of an otherwise insignificant group of islands in the estuary of the Pearl River, and that the implications have the potential to effect the way we approach the biological sciences as a whole. Cryptozoology is the search for unknown or 'hidden' animals.

The search for bigfoot, 'Nessie' and the abominable snowman is well known, but what is less well known is the search for the answers to many more obscure, but equally interesting zoological mysteries. Since 1988 a startling series of new and exciting animals have been discovered (or rediscovered) in Vietnam - most notably in the province of Vu Quang.

Many cryptozoologists have used these as vindication of the cryptozoological maxim (coined by Bernard Heuvelmans over forty years ago), that "there are lost worlds everywhere". Muirhead and Downes have discovered that an equally startling series of events has taken place, over the same time scale, in Hong Kong. If the discovery of new species in almost impenetrable rain forest is exciting, the same thing happening (albeit on a smaller scale) in such a heavily urbanised and meticulously explored and mapped place as Hong Kong is by anybody's standards extraordinary! The Crab Eating Mongoose (Herpestes urva) was last seen in about 1950, and was even then considered rare. An apparently healthy population was discovered by chance in 1988. The Chinese Otter (L. lutra chinensis) was seen for the first time in thirty years in 1990. Two carnivores that had never previously been reported from the territory were also discovered at about the same time. The Javan Mongoose (Herpestes urva) in 1990, and the Yellow Throated Marten (Martes flavigula) in 1994. Two new species of rats (one which may be new to science as a whole), and one new mouse have been discovered since about 1988, and the list of reptiles and amphibians recorded from the territory is growing almost daily.

The peculiar thing about all these discoveries is that they appear to be opposite to all the prevailing trends. The pollution from industrial and human waste has been mentioned already, and several important habitats have either been destroyed or are in imminent danger of destruction. Habitat destruction has been even more pronounced across the border in Guangdong province, and whereas it is certain that the loss of mainland Chinese habitat has forced more birds into certain Hong Kong habitats than were seen previous to the urbanisation of rural China, it appears unlikely that the same ecological restrictions could have forced a tide of refugee mammals across the border into Hong Kong. As recently as the 1960s the border with the rest of China was a barbed wire fence with identical swathes of paddy fields on each side. Animals could quite easily cross from Chinese to British territory, and on a number of occasions they certainly did. For over twenty years, however, they have been replaced by a grotesque and essentially lifeless concrete jungle. The industrial estates of the Shenzen Special Economic Zone provide an effective barrier to any mammal population expansion.

Could these animals have been introduced by man? Although all the species cited are known as food animals, the specimens recorded have been in perfect condition, suggesting that they had bred in the wild, and in Hong Kong itself. They showed no signs of having been trapped or caged. (Creatures for sale in the wild animal food markets often suffer from horrific injuries). None of these species are commonly kept as pets so the hypothesis used to explain the existence of exotic animals in so many other parts of the world can also be discounted. The question remains however. Where have these animals been all this time? The zoology of Hong Kong has been meticulously mapped for over a century and it is inconceivable that entire species could have eluded so many generations of keen amateur and professional naturalists, who for a century and a half kept meticulous records. When one examines this wealth of source material, one finds that these animal anomalies are only the latest in a long line of strange and mysterious creatures which have turned up in Hong Kong to leave a few tantalising clues to their existence before disappearing again into the limbo of zoological obscurity.

It is generally believed, for example, that there are only two species of Asiatic Giant Salamander, one in China and the other in the mountain streams of Japan. In 1922, the type specimen of what was described as a third species - Sligo's Salamander (Megalobatrachius sligoii). It was discovered in a burst drain pipe on Hong Kong Island itself, it had a smoother skin and a flatter head than the mainland Chinese Giant Salamander (which has never been recorded from Hong Kong anyway) and according to some reports reached up to five feet in length. Other specimens were discovered, both in Hong Kong and elsewhere in China, and they were exhibited live at London Zoo.

In December 1941 Hong Kong changed forever with the advent of the invading Japanese, and many records were irrevocably lost. Much habitat was also destroyed including the mountain streams where, Jon Downes believes, this remarkable would have lived. After the war, the political upheavals in the Far East precluded much serious zoological investigation, and despite the fact that the type specimen still exists, preserved in spirit at the British Museum (Natural History) in London, the species has been quietly forgotten. It is as if it never actually existed. There are several other problematical animals which are equally as interesting as Sligo's Salamander on record. These include a giant tortoise, at least one species of terrapin, and an animal described as a 'six legged snake'. There is at least one report of a Sea-Serpent seen by Chinese students in about 1968 and other less concrete sightings abound. Richard Muirhead has discovered records of an Indopacific Crocodile (Crocodylus porosus) in 1912 and 'wolves' and badgers and a 'black panther' from the 1920s. Needless to say there have been no other records of these species recorded since.

The conclusion that Downes and Muirhead, together with other researchers have reached is that Hong Kong is an invaluable 'living laboratory' of equal importance to those in the more zoologically recognised areas such as Vu Quang and the Galapagos Islands. This is because, although it is generally accepted that the fauna of a specific area is never static, the fauna of Hong Kong changes at a far faster rate than that of most other places due to the high degree of biological, geographical and socio-political dynamism in existence in this former British Colony.

What is more important, however, is that Hong Kong provides an object lesson to zoologists who are convinced that there are no more significant zoological discoveries to be made. If the archives of such a tiny British Colony have yielded so many surprises just imagine how many discoveries could be made if the archives of, say, British India - an infinitesimally larger and more diverse habitat - are examined properly! And, if the tiny remnant forests of Hong Kong can even now reveal surprises, imagine what is lurking undetected in the depths of Amazonia or Equatorial Africa. It has been suggested that because of the peculiar circumstances of the appearance of some of the 'new' species discovered in recent years, that accepted models of population and species dynamics cannot be responsible. Quasi fortean theories of species translocation and even animal teleportation have been suggested as explanations, but Downes and Muirhead don't go that far. As they say wryly, Hong Kong is a strange enough place already without having to write those sorts of ideas into the equation!

THE MYTHICAL MERMAID?

A Dugong was harpooned by local fishermen in 1941 and its carcass was brought in triumph back to Hong Kong. These magnificently primitive marine mammals are not supposed to exist in the South China Sea, but at least one specimen obviously did. It has been speculated that sightings of these grotesquely human-looking creatures are responsible for the reports of mermaids which have been made for centuries by fishermen in the South China Sea. Only a few years ago a Hong Kong fisherman reported by radio having caught a 'mermaid' in his nets. A vast crowd turned up on the quay waiting for his return, but no-one turned up. The rumours quickly went around that the fisherman’s boat had capsized under mysterious circumstances. It is tempting to suggest that this could be circumstantial evidence for the Chinese superstition that catching a mermaid is bad luck, but it is more likely that it was a hoax.

MONITORING THE SITUATION

The largest lizard known in southern China is the water monitor (Varanus salvator) which grows up to a length of between two and three metres. There are a few records from the paddy fields of rural Hong Kong but it is generally agreed that these are vagrant specimens that have wandered over from the mainland. In 1930 however a large lizard nearly a metre in length was caught on Victoria Peak - the central mountain of Hong Kong Island itself. It was initially identified as Varanus bengalensis, a species which isn't actually found in China. The surviving photographs suggest that it was not either of these species, but what was it? Despite another record in 1925 and one in about 1965 the affair remains a mystery.

BIG CATS

The most exciting animal ever to have been recorded from Hong Kong is undoubtedly the South Chinese Tiger (Panthera tigris amoyensis), and even the records of this unmistakable animal are shrouded in mystery. The last 'definite' tiger record was in 1947 when one was seen by the Bishop of Hong Kong walking across his garden. Even a Bishop's evidence, however, is open to doubt. He described the pug marks left by the animal as being six inches across which is far larger than the pug marks ordinarily left by a South China Tiger. So, if it wasn't a tiger, what on earth was it?

Another tiger was shot on Hong Kong Island during 1941, by guards at the P.O.W camp at Stanley. This record is also highly mysterious, because the Japanese military authorities made a propaganda exercise out of the whole affair, utilising an ancient Cantonese belief that the advent of a tiger meant political change for the better. It has been suggested that this unfortunate animal was not a bona fide wild tiger at all, but a tame animal released by the Japanese merely so they could shoot it and gain political 'brownie points'.

TOO MUCH MONKEY BUSINESS

Another mystery surrounds the exact status of the monkeys which live in various parts of the territory. In the mid 19th Century Robert Swinhoe described them as Macacus sancti-johannes, a species endemic to the colony. These animals had distinctive 'pig' tails, but had apparently disappeared by the turn of the century. Monkeys of other species started to appear soon after the first world war, and at the last count there were five different species, living and interbreeding in the wilder parts of Hong Kong. Some of them are descendants of animals liberated from private collections. The provenance of others is less certain. What we do know is that none of them have tails like pigs. Did Macacus sancti-johannes ever actually exist? If so, what happened to it? The mysterious disappearance and re-appearance of the monkeys of Hong Kong are just another zoological enigma of this strange and wonderful land.