We in the PNW do love our monsters, such as Sasquatch, Bezos, and Cadborosaurus. I am guessing that most people are all too familiar with the first two members of the crowd but suspect that the third beast may not be well-known. Cadborosaurus entered the public conscious of fabulous lifeforms in 1933 when reports appeared in newspapers of a sea serpent popping up in Cadboro Bay on the southeast end of Vancouver Island. Mythically big, it had a head like a horse, or perhaps a camel; fangs and a mane; a serpentine body; smooth skin, or perhaps it was rough and spiny, or maybe even hirsute; and had red flesh, a sure sign, according to one early expert, that the great marine animal was warm-blooded.
The mighty serpent, like any good cryptobeast, soon led reporters to run amok. They dubbed her Caddy, Amy Cadborosaurus, and Amy Hiashuckaluck (a name coined from Chinook jargon for big water snake) and regularly reported her sightings and death. My favorite story to emerge regarding Caddy comes from a novel idea proposed by “Captain” John Danes, described in the newspaper as a “tonsorial artist and piscatorial expert.” (One often overlooked aspect of cryptozoology is that little discrimination is involved: no experience needed and hairstylists can make bold scientific claims).
The so-called “Danes Theory” proposed that geoducks were not actually clams but were Cadborosaurus eggs. To solve the mystery, Danes and his collaborators, William H. Halliday and Len Holyoak, planned at least five expeditions to “capture species of geoduck,” said Halliday. Holyoak’s team would use old swivel guns, or blunderbusses, loaded with moth balls, and shoot them into the sand, which would drive the geoducks (who were well-known to fear moth balls?) to the surface, where “several former cowboys” would be ready to lasso the babies by the neck. Despite the brilliant planning and initial excitement engendered by the good “captain,” sadly, nothing came of his expeditions, and geoducks have persisted to this day as being only clams and not eggs of a mythical sea serpent.
Proving that Danes and his colleagues were at least on the right track—that little Caddys became big Caddys—the Cadborosaurus clan produced a progeny. An unnamed AP reporter breathlessly celebrated the “blessed event” of Mr. and Mrs. Hiashuckaluck Cadborosaurus giving birth to a slippery slimy serpentine babe named Jorda, who measured 25 feet long and could leap fully out of the water in pursuit of prey. But not everyone celebrated like our neighbors to the north. Seattleites were so jealous of all the attention afforded Amy C., or so Canadian journalists wrote, we had the temerity to suggest that she was actually only a blackfish, or orca, and therefore unworthy of the media attention.
But Seattleites can hardly claim to hold the higher ground regarding large swimming creatures. People have long reported various colossi or similar incarnations in Lake Union, Green Lake, and Lake Washington. All sound like mishpocha of Cadborosaurus: large, unphotographed, unpredictable, mysterious, and only glimpsed. Why wouldn’t they exist?
Turns out though that some people actually did see a truly staggering beast. In November 1987, the body of a dead sturgeon appeared around Lake Forest Park at the north end of Lake Washington. Initial rumors said the great producer of caviar weighed between 2,400 and 5,000 pounds (Time magazine was responsible for the larger number). It turned out that the fish weighed a mere 670 pounds but was 11 feet long. Biologists estimated that she was between 80 and 100 years old.
The big questions, of course, were how did she get into Lake Washington and how long had she called it home. An article at the time cited an elderly Ballardite, who claimed he had seen sturgeon in the lake in 1922 and had been told that they had been let loose from the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition of 1909. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find any corroborating evidence to back up this information, which doesn’t mean that it’s not true but some data beyond a 60-year-old memory would be nice.
White sturgeon (Acipenser transmontanus) are native to this part of the world and are anadromous, so taking up residence in freshwater wouldn’t be too odd. Far more common in the Columbia River than in lakes, sturgeon could have made it into Lake Washington either via the Duwamish and Black Rivers before 1916, or via the Locks after they opened. (Other recently notable sightings were in 1983 and 2023.) One WDFW biologist I corresponded with told me: “We feel like there are probably “more than a handful” of large sturgeon that found their way into the lake or were born there and never left and have just adapted to a full FW existence. Given that they can eat almost anything they can get in their mouths (which are large), there is certainly enough food in Lake WA for them to survive.”
So, more than likely, we have monsters in our midst, or at least very large fish that have adapted to the strange world of an urban lake. I find the possibility of such creatures to be exciting and humbling. It’s always good when an animal as mysterious and majestic as a sturgeon reminds us that we neither know everything nor have complete control over our natural surroundings. And, really, if you ever had any doubt about this, open your eyes and look around. We live in a world full of wonders.
Word of the Week - Mishpocha - From the Yiddish, mishpokhe, for your whole family, not just by blood or marriage but also by association, which could include friends. Growing up, I learned the word from my mom. I thought of being included as mishpocha as a good thing, that you merited membership as part of the family, or inner circle of friends.
March 23 - Village Books - 6pm - Bellingham - Spirit Whales and Sloth Tales heads to Bellingham as part of the North Cascades Institute Nature of Writing series. If you have friends around Bellingham, please let them know.
I forgot to mention that in November 2016, I was lucky to be able to go down into the Locks during the time when the Army Corps drains them for cleaning. I was told that during the draining they found a live white sturgeon, which they rescued and released below the gates in Puget Sound. No one knows how long the fish had been there.