Night of the Shark: Led Zeppelin's most murky myth

In the summer of 1969, Led Zeppelin was in the midst of conquering the United States. Seattle was just another stop on a tour that felt more like a journey to the fringes of sanity than a concert series. The Edgewater Inn—an architectural gem built over the bay—was famous for allowing guests to fish from their windows. Little did anyone know that this peculiarity would give rise to one of the darkest stories in rock and roll.

That night, in room 342, there were no limits. Drugs, alcohol, groupies. Tour manager Richard Cole, always on edge, once said that "the laws didn't apply on that floor." And amid the laughter and shouts, someone caught a small shark from the window. The animal, barely out of the water, became the protagonist of a scene that no one could describe without stuttering.

What happened next was sordidly documented in Hammer of the Gods , a cursed book the band repudiates and the public can't stop reading. According to that version, the shark was used in a sexual situation with a groupie, instigated by the band's assistants and witnessed by others. The description is deliberately blurry, as if the pen didn't dare write what the ear could barely accept.

Did it happen? Was it a game taken too far? An exaggerated fantasy to fuel the legend? Robert Plant and Jimmy Page have avoided the subject for decades. Cole, the author of the story, lived for years amidst contradictions, denying details and rekindling the fire whenever he could. The truth is, something happened that night. And whatever it was, it remained trapped in that room like a secret redolent of salt and transgression.

The shark story isn't just a scandalous anecdote. It's a metaphor for excess, for the years when rock knew no bounds and darkness was part of the spectacle. It's the hotel room as a profane altar, and the Edgewater Inn as the setting for an unforgettable ritual.