The Others Among Us: Inside the Musical Mind of UFO Archivist Albert Rosales

Albert S. Rosales is a man who wears a coat of many colors.  Born in Cuba in 1958, his family migrated to Spain in 1966. A year later his family moved to America - first to New York City but eventually to Miami, where today he lives as an official resident of the United States.

The Humanoid that is Albert Rosales

Besides English, he speaks fluent Spanish and in most cases, he can get through a conversation speaking Portuguese and can read Italian. He has said that he learned to speak English from watching television as a child, while growing up in New York City. He's a translator, an ex service member in the US Navy, a retired police officer, a book collector, and a well-known, highly regarded UFOlogist. 

What he might be best known for, however, are the books he's written, based on the the vast file of events he's catalogued throughout his life that pertain to encounters with otherworld humanoid figures. 

From an early age, Rosales devoured UFO magazines and books, developing an early fascination with unexplained aerial phenomena. Over time, however, his curiosity narrowed toward something more specific: Not the craft itself. But whom (or what) the occupants are.

“I figure whoever is driving the things are more important,” he told me. “I think that is the crux of the matter.”

Through decades of research, he has catalogued over 30,000 cases involving encounters with strange humanoid entities reported across the globe. Rosales IS the utmost authority on this topic, and the books he's written are the pinnacle source for researchers, podcasters, writers, the curious, and anybody else who has a reason to tap into the mysterious world of odd humanoid Forteana.

Each case Rosales documents is carefully classified using a structured system drawn from his Humanoid Contact Database, assigning encounters into categories based on proximity and interaction.

Close Encounter Classifications:

Type A: Entity seen inside or atop an unidentified craft

Type B: Entity entering or exiting a UFO

Type C: Entity near a UFO

Type D: Entity seen where UFO activity has been reported

Type E: Entity observed without UFO activity (such as bedroom visitations)

Type F: Psychic or telepathic contact without visual sighting

Type G: Direct interaction or abduction involving witnesses

Type H: Alleged crashes, recoveries, or captured entities

This system transforms thousands of strange stories into a searchable historical record.

Rosales’ monumental bibliography spans human history itself through his Humanoid Encounters: The Others Amongst Us series, covering reports from 1 AD through the modern era in meticulously organized volumes.

Among his notable works:

Humanoid Encounters: The Others Amongst Us (1 AD–1899)

Multiple chronological volumes spanning the 20th and 21st centuries

UFOs Over Florida: Humanoid and Other Strange Encounters in the Sunshine State

Together, and as a complete volume, they form what many researchers consider the definitive reference archive for humanoid encounter reports.

Interestingly, Rosales’ journey into the unknown has always had a musical backdrop. Born in Cuba, he was exposed early to Latin pop, salsa, and merengue - though he admits those styles never fully shaped his tastes. Growing up in America during the late '60s and early ’70s shifted his musical compass toward rock and pop.

The artists of that era became lifelong companions. He said the first album he recalls buying was “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye” by Steam. Among the songs he says he has listened to the most during his life are Uriah Heep’s “Lady in Black,” many songs by Jethro Tull, and distinctive Beatles classics like “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away" and "Let it Be." 

When writing today, music remains essential. “I listen to a playlist that includes all sorts of music - mostly '60s through '90s, classic rock, some Latin ballads - especially Raphael from Spain” - he points out - “A lot of Led Zeppelin, classic rock, some 80’s tunes.” For Rosales, meaningful lyrics matter - songs that tell stories, much like the encounter reports he documents.

He even admitted to me that he associates eras of UFO sightings with musical periods, giving a special nod to '70s classic rock. “Music will always have a special place in all that is mysterious," he noted.

My latest copy of 'Humanoid Encounters'  - Just one in a
volume series of 15. The chronicles expand from 1 AD - modern times 

The mystery hasn’t diminished. If anything, it has deepened.

A decade has passed since Rosales last published a Humanoid Encounters book, but fans of the series may still have more to look forward to. Publishing challenges have slowed recent releases, but Rosales hopes to continue the work, beginning with volumes covering 2016–2020. Given the pace at which new reports continue to emerge, his archive remains very much a living project.

In a field often dominated by lights in the sky and debates over technology, Albert Rosales has spent a lifetime reminding researchers to look closer at the witnesses - and the beings they claim to meet. 

Because, as his work suggests, the real mystery may not be unidentified flying objects.

It may be the intelligence behind them.

Now Playing: "Waiting For The UFO's" by Graham Parker & The Rumour

Exploring the Weirdness of Water

We like to think we understand water. It falls from the sky. It runs downhill. It collects, it flows, it evaporates. It makes us cold when it's chilly outside,  or when it's windy. It's not rocket science. It's predictable.

But every once in a while, something seeps through the cracks of that understanding - something that suggests water isn’t always just… water.

It starts in places you wouldn’t expect.

The Devil's Kettle

In Minnesota, there’s a place called the Devil's Kettle where a waterfall splits in two. One half behaves exactly as it should, tumbling downstream like every other river-fed cascade. The other half disappears into a hole in the rock - a black, circular opening that swallows everything fed into it. Logs. Objects. And even dye. 

For years, people tried to track where it went. Nothing came back out. Not where it should, anyway. The official answer is that it reconnects underground somewhere, slipping quietly back into the river system. But for a long time, standing there watching half a river vanish into stone, it didn’t feel like something that simple.

It's located at Judge C.R. Magney State Park on Minnesota's north shore near Lake Superior. The Brule River splits in two right before the falls. One side flows like a normal river should, down a 50-foot waterfall. The other side drops into a deep hole (the "kettle") and appears to vanish.

For decades, people thought that second half of the river disappeared underground - some even believed it flowed to Canada or into Lake Superior through hidden tunnels.

The reality is, the water doesn’t vanish. It disappears, then rejoins the river downstream, just hidden by powerful currents and rock formations.

Head south, and the water gets deeper.

Jacob's Well

In Texas, Jacob’s Well looks like the kind of place you’d bring your kids on a hot afternoon. Clear, inviting, almost too perfect. But beneath that calm surface is a vertical shaft that drops into a labyrinth of underwater caves - tight, twisting passages that have claimed the lives of experienced divers. 

Locals don’t talk about geology. They talk about how the well feels. About the way it seems to pull. Like once you’re in it, something down there knows you're there, and doesn't want you to leave. 

Jacob's Well sits outside the quiet Hill Country town of Wimberley. It's a spring so clear, so perfectly formed, that it almost feels unnatural. At first glance, it looks inviting - a circular pool of blue-green water, calm and glassy beneath the sun. People swim here. They laugh, they dive, they cool off from the Texas heat.

But if you stare into the abyss too long... the abyss stares back.

Because Jacob’s Well isn’t just a swimming hole - it’s a vertical tunnel that drops straight into darkness. The opening plunges roughly 30 feet down before giving way to a labyrinth of underwater caves carved into ancient limestone. This isn’t just a scenic spring - it’s part of the vast and hidden Trinity Aquifer, a system that stretches silently beneath the state, feeding rivers, wells, and all kinds of secrets.

Divers who’ve gone down describe it less like a cave and more like a descent into another world.

The first chamber is wide, and welcoming. Light still filters through, glimmering across the rocky surface. Beyond that, the well begins to tighten. Open spaces become narrow passages. As the walls close in, the light disappears.

By the time you reach the deeper chambers, the water starts to fade to black.

One wrong movement can stir up silt that hasn’t been disturbed in decades. In an instant, visibility drops to zero. Up becomes down. Left becomes right. Panic sets in. And in a place like this, panic is deadly.

Over the years, multiple divers have lost their lives inside Jacob’s Well. Many were experienced. Some knew exactly what they were getting into. Jacob's Well takes none of that into account. It has a well-established reputation for not forgiving mistakes. People who have survived the dark depths say that there is a "pull" underneath - that when you get to a certain point, it's almost as if gravity is amplified. It's not a current pulling you deeper... it's something else.

Today, access is controlled. You can swim there with a reservation, or float on the surface. The cool spring water feels great wrapped around your body, especially in the heat of the Texas sun. But diving into its depths is restricted, and for good reason.

Lake Baikal

On the other side of the Earth, in Siberia, Lake Baikal holds more water than you can comprehend. It’s the deepest freshwater lake on Earth, and somehow also one of the clearest. You can see down into it in ways that don’t feel natural, like looking through glass into something far too deep. 

There are stories of lights moving beneath the surface, of shapes where no shapes should be. Scientists will tell you about unique ecosystems and ancient formation. And they’re not wrong. But that doesn’t explain everything people claim to have seen beneath that water.

Stretching like a dark scar across the frozen heart of Siberia, Baikal isn’t just another body of water - it’s something older, deeper. It's more unsettling. Locals have called it the “Galapagos of Russia,” but that barely scratches the surface. Because Baikal doesn’t feel like a lake. 

It feels like an ocean pretending to be one.

Lake Baikal is the oldest lake on Earth, estimated to be around 25 million years old. It was there before Mammoths roamed the land and the Himalayas were formed. While most lakes come and go in geological time, Baikal has endured unchanged.

At over 5,300 feet, Baikal is the deepest freshwater lake on the planet. If you stacked skyscrapers from the bottom, they’d disappear into darkness long before reaching the surface. Even more unsettling? Scientists believe there’s sediment beneath the lake floor stretching miles deeper, meaning what we call the “bottom” might not truly be the end.

Baikal holds about 20% of the world’s unfrozen freshwater. That's one-fifth. But what really messes with your head is the clarity of the water. In some places, you can see over 100 feet down. Rocks, shadows, shapes just hang there, suspended in blue lucidity. It creates a strange illusion of depth without distortion.

Baikal is home to thousands of species found nowhere else on Earth. The most famous is the Baikal seal, or Nerpa - the only freshwater seal in existence. There are also translucent fish, sponge forests, and microscopic organisms that help keep the water so unnaturally clear. It’s an ecosystem that feels isolated, almost sealed off from the rest of the planet, as if evolution took a different path here.

It's got it's share of weirdness as well. Fishermen have reported strange lights moving beneath the water at night. Some claim to have seen shapes - too large to be fish, too fast to be anything known, slipping through the depths.

There are even old accounts from Soviet divers who described encountering unexplained humanoid figures deep below the surface. 

One of the strangest and most chilling stories tied to Lake Baikal comes from a reported 1982 Soviet military diving operation. According to accounts that surfaced years later, a team of divers working roughly 50 meters below the surface encountered something they couldn’t explain: towering humanoid figures, said to be nearly nine feet tall, with pale skin and elongated forms. The beings reportedly moved effortlessly through the water, clad in tight, silvery suits and wearing helmet-like breathing devices that left their faces exposed. They weren’t described as aggressive at first—just present, but watching and aware.

In true human behavior, orders were given to capture one of the entities. As the divers attempted to close in, they were suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful, unseen force described as something like a violent underwater surge. The team was thrown upward toward the surface far too quickly, triggering severe decompression trauma. According to the reports, three divers died and several others were left seriously injured. 

Cold war folklore at it's finest. 

There are many anomalies that pertain to water. This world, while over-populated and seemingly explored, still holds many secrets. Less than a quarter of the ocean floor has been mapped or scouted. That leave a lot of space - a lot of cracks, caverns and caves that have stories untold - lots of room to roam for an introverted species that doesn't want human contact. Lots of room for something unknown to bask in. 

If you like these stories, stay tuned for more weird water mysteries.

Now Playing: Perfect Water - Blue Oyster Cult