The Vampire of Moca: Puerto Rico's Livestock Killer of 1975

In 1975 Moca was a farming municipality in northwestern Puerto Rico. The island was in an economic crisis. Unemployment stood at 15%. Crime was rising. In San Juan, a young tabloid called El Vocero was hungry for stories. Its man on this one was Augusto "Tute" Vale, a self-taught journalist and Korean War veteran.

February 1975. The first carcasses turned up on a hillside. On 25 February El Vocero reported about 15 dead cows. The first finds were in Rocha: 15 cows, 3 goats, 2 geese and 1 pig. The wounds were always the same. "Two holes very close together, as if someone had driven something sharp into their necks." Inside, "not a single drop of blood."

On 7 March a cow belonging to Rey Jiménez was found in Barrio Cruz with deep wounds on its skull. Cecilio Hernández lost 34 chickens in one night. In Barrio Pueblo, Héctor Vega found puncture marks on his goats' necks. On 10 March El Vocero printed a new name. "Police hunt the Vampire of Moca."

María Acevedo saw it first. A strange animal landed on her zinc rooftop in the middle of the night. It "pecked at the rusty rooftop and at the windows before taking flight, issuing a terrifying scream." Many residents came to believe the killer was a supernatural bird like hers.

Late in March, armed residents gathered at a small shop in Rocha. A neighbour came in. He had seen the vampire. A bird, "tall, about three or four feet," "opening and closing its beak, flapping its wings." After 10 p.m. about eleven armed men went into the hills. They found nothing.

Later accounts went further. Juan Muñiz said a bird-like animal swooped down on him and tried to carry him away. In Corozal, on 13 May, a man saw a "round-headed, hairy-tailed and large-eyed creature" that "growled like a dog."

The Puerto Rico Department of Agriculture sent two veterinarians. Their verdict was shotgun pellets. The police disagreed and suggested a fisga, a two-pronged fishing spear. They searched the caves of Rocha. A senator called it the work of a criminal. The Puerto Rico Press Association called El Vocero's coverage "obscurantist." The paper kept printing. By 27 March the toll passed 100. The last story ran on 31 July. "Vampire of Moca Strikes Again." Then the killings stopped. Nobody was ever charged.

Theories multiplied. A giant vampire bat. Boas, after farmer Luis Torres killed two snakes about six feet long attacking a heifer, though the deaths resumed. Wild dogs. Extraterrestrials. A Satanic cult. Decades later, Rolando Valle told Radio Ambulante: "It was a person who did it on purpose." An unproven allegation even points at Tute Vale, always first to report new carcasses. Historian Reinaldo Román links the scare to the economic crisis and to the tabloid's view of the countryside.

March 1995. Eight sheep were found with puncture wounds in Canóvanas. The chupacabra was born, and Moca is widely treated as its forerunner. Benjamin Radford argues there is no clear link. Scott Corrales kept the older story alive. In Moca, the vampire never left. The local baseball team is Los Vampiros de Moca.