Reading some of the "sea monster" tales reminded me of the time
my mother and I were "saved" from a sea monster.  We were at my parents
beach house which was (and is) on a mud flat in Puget Sound, and at low
tide, you walk out for a half mile before you reach the water.  Next
door was a church camp, and at the camp that particular day was a group
of homeless men from a local shelter.
        They were having a great time playing volleyball and barbecuing.
Eventually they wandered down to the shore to go clam digging.
 
        After a while, we noticed a great deal of activity in a small
locale.  From that distance we could see shovels swinging and people
kicking.  (The two of us were building quite a mental picture of the
killer clams encountered down there!)  About ten minutes later, all the
men came back up the beach.  They headed right towards us, and I can say
that I was more than a little uncomfortable about that, but all they
wanted was to tell us that we were now safe.  They had killed the sea
monster, and we didn't have to worry anymore.
 
        Naturally we were dying to find out what had happened, so as
soon as they left, we trotted down the beach ourselves.  A large octopus
had washed up on shore minus all its legs - obviously cut off by some
callous diver.  (This was not uncommon back in the 70's; fortunately we
haven't seen as much of  it lately!)  The men came upon the poor thing,
and put it out of its misery.  So, all in all, they did a good deed
anyway, and I am sure had a great time telling their buddies about the
sea monster they killed on their outing.