Drawing the Line: A Temporary Tracing of Lake Washington's Historical Shoreline

A hundred years ago this summer Lake Washington was transformed…

On August 25th, 1916, engineers opened the Montlake Cut, part of the 8-mile Lake Washington Ship Canal that linked Lake Washington to Lake Union, and then to Puget Sound through the Ballard Locks. Through the summer of 1916, Lake Washington was slowly lowered by nine feet as 72 billion gallons of water flowed out through the cut.

The lowering of the lake left sawmills and boat docks high and dry, and displaced Native farmers at the south end of the lake, where its old outlet, the Black River, dried up. A thousand acres of wetland disappeared, and some 1800 acres of new shoreline property emerged. In Southeast Seattle, much of this new land became public space that now provides paths for walking and biking, access for boating and swimming, and spectacular views of mountains, bridges, water and sky.

A hundred years later, it is almost impossible to imagine what the lake and its surroundings looked like before this transformation. Mikala Woodward’s temporary installation, “Drawing the Line,” aims to give us a glimpse of that vanished landscape, by tracing the lake’s historical shoreline directly onto the ground.

Excerpt from McKee's correct road map of Seattle and vicinity, 1894.
WSU Digital Collections, Early Washington Maps 

Wetmore Slough/Genesee Park

Named after a settler family that homesteaded nearby in the 1870s, Wetmore Slough was reportedly once the site of a Native fishing weir used to catch salmon. The marshy inlet reached all the way to Genesee Street before 1916, prompting dreams of a port at Columbia City.

Bridge over Wetmore Slough, 1913. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

A wooden bridge was built across the mouth of the slough in 1913, as part of a road that led to Seward Park. After the lake was lowered, the slough still flooded occasionally. In 1937 the bridge was replaced with a road, and the wetland began to be filled in with dirt and garbage. The area was an official landfill until 1963 and an unofficial dump for years after; neighborhood kids recall setting fire to escaping methane gas.

Landfill at Wetmore Slough, 1955. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

Lakewood Moorage/Ohler’s Island 

Real estate developers ferried boatloads of prospective homeowners to a dock at the foot of Oregon St. in 1902, hoping to sell lots in the recently platted Lakewood neighborhood east of Columbia City.

Lakewood Landing, 1902. Rainier Valley Historical Society Photo

Fourteen years later, the lowering of the lake revealed Ohler’s Island, now part of Lakewood Moorage.  Nobody seems to know who Ohler was.

Ohler's Island, 1952. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

South of Lakewood, the boulevard built in 1913 continued to Seward Park, visible in the distance.

Lake Washington Boulevard, 1913. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

Bailey Peninsula/Seward Park 

Known as SkEba’kst, or “nose,” by the local Salish, Bailey Peninsula was acquired by the City in 1911 as part of the Olmsted Brothers’ master plan for Seattle’s Parks. At the time, it was connected to the mainland by a marshy isthmus that flooded in winter. The City built a land bridge across the marsh, terminating in a circular turnaround.

Seward Park turnaround, 1913. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

When the lake was lowered, many of the plants that had thrived along its seasonally submerged shoreline were lost – including tule and wapato, both valued by the local tribes. Some tule can still be found in Andrew’s Bay, between Seward Park and the mainland.

The Montlake Cut is thought to have spelled the end for Seward Park’s “Lost Lake” – a mysterious and largely undocumented body of water that may have been more of a puddle. Rumors that the lower water table killed off some of the park’s large trees are hard to confirm, but on the south side of the peninsula, a sunken forest that had been deep below the surface become a boating hazard in the shallower water.

By 1936 the marsh south of Andrew’s Bay was a lawn, and the bathing beach had taken more or less its current form.

Seward Park Bathing Beach, 1936. Seattle Municipal Archives Photo

DRAWING THE LINE is part of a series of events, exhibits, and publications commemorating the centennial of the Lake Washington Ship Canal in 2016 and 2017. Information about other projects can be found at makingthecut100.org.

MANY THANKS to Amir Sheikh and the Waterlines Project for historical mapping data, and to Nancy Dulaney and the Rainier Valley Historical Society, Paul Talbert and the Friends of Seward Park, HistoryLink, MOHAI, and the Seattle Municipal Archives for information and historic photos.

THANKS ALSO to the Seattle Parks Department, Seattle Department of Transportation, Seattle Public Utilities, and many residents along the route for their flexibility and support. And to artist Eve Mosher, whose “High Water Line” project served as inspiration for this one, and who generously shared information and resources.

ABOUT THE ARTIST
Mikala Woodward is a Seattle writer, artist, and historian who uses words, images, and spaces to create experiences that change the way people see the world. “Drawing the Line” is the third in a series of imaginary resurrections of vanished South Seattle landscapes; prior projects “The Hidden Stream of Columbia City” and “No Place Like Home” received Heritage Education Awards from the Association of King County Heritage Organizations (AKCHO). Mikala can be reached at mikalawoodward AT gmail DOT com.

This project was made possible by a 4Culture Heritage Special Projects grant.