Lake Pend Oreille, 1952: When trophy fish trumped national defense

By Nancy Foster Renk
Reader Contributor

Dr. C.C. Wendle had uncovered a story that was explosive — literally. An unidentified civilian employee at the Navy’s research facility in Bayview told Wendle about plans to detonate a series of explosive charges deep in Lake Pend Oreille. Alarmed, Wendle immediately contacted Idaho Sen. Herman Welker, who talked with Navy officials in Washington, D.C. He also enlisted Jim Parsons, Sr., longtime publicist for the Sandpoint Chamber of Commerce, who began asking questions of his own.

By the time the story hit the newspapers in early February 1952, the rhetoric had become heated. The underwater explosions were described as “bombing,” a term that helped rally opposition to the Navy’s plans. Sen. Welker did nothing to calm the waters, claiming that the “bombing” would “completely eradicate all fish life from the lake.”

As the story emerged, it became apparent that state officials had known about the Navy’s plans since at least August 1951, when the Department of Fish and Game granted preliminary permission for the tests. Then-Idaho Gov. Len Jordan told Parsons that he did not believe any explosion would cause irreparable harm to the lake. The Fish and Game Commission, while concerned about the fish, was reluctant to interfere with the national defense program. The commission downplayed Welker’s hyperbole, saying that the explosions should not affect fish outside the immediate test area. 

A submarine model measuring 48 feet in length. The sub, with John Kindall standing above, is on Fred Kennedy’s barge at Bayview in the late 1960s. Photo courtesy of Bonner County Historical Society.

To minimize any damage, they were working with the Navy to set small preliminary charges to chase fish away from the larger blast site.

Both sides of the issue had compelling arguments. The Navy claimed the tests were vitally important to the defense effort because the controlled explosions would provide information needed to keep sailors safe on their ships. In the midst of the Korean War — and World War II still fresh in memory — it was hard to dispute any national defense claim.

Those concerned about the fish also had a strong case. Photos of smiling fishermen holding world-record Kamloops had brought national attention to Lake Pend Oreille, attracting 60,000 people the previous summer and bringing much-needed revenue to the local economy.

Public opinion throughout the region turned quickly and decisively against the Navy. The Sandpoint News-Bulletin explained, “What has aroused the people of this region as much as anything else seems to be the misnomer ‘bombing.’ People have envisioned planes dropping loads of bombs indiscriminately in the lake to the danger of fish and fishermen.” 

The paper suggested that the Navy would need to make “a mighty strong case to satisfy an aroused opinion.”

Less than a week later, the Navy launched its public relations campaign with a hearing at the Sandpoint Community Hall. Captain A.G. Mumma, commanding officer at the Navy’s Bayview research facility, described the tests and presented data to show that no harm would befall any fish. The explosions would take place in deep water near Cape Horn, he said. The first test would be in April and, assuming no evidence of damage to the fish population, the Navy planned several more. Tim Vaughan, regional biologist for Fish and Game, supported these tests and hoped to get accurate data on the effects of the detonations. To mollify critics, Navy officials promised to restock the lake to make up for any fish killed.

While residents of North Idaho were concerned about fish, Spokane residents worried about their drinking water. The city and surrounding area, with a population of 200,000 people at the time, depended on the Spokane aquifer for their water supply. Deep, underground gravel channels at the south end of Lake Pend Oreille carried water to the aquifer, which accounted for a sizable percentage of Spokane’s water. City officials were concerned that the deep blasts might irreparably damage the gravel beds, adversely affecting the water supply.

Clarence Dill, former Democratic senator from Washington, met with Capt. Mumma in mid-February 1952. Mumma explained the reasons for the tests but admitted that the Navy would proceed with the “bombing” regardless of the results. Dill promptly wrote to Washington Sen. Warren G. Magnuson, urging him to join forces with the Idaho delegation to introduce a bill to prohibit funding for the tests. 

While there is no evidence of such legislation, Magnuson did contact Navy Secretary Dan A. Kimball to say that he would hold the Navy responsible for any damage to the Spokane water supply. Kimball responded with additional assurances that the explosions would not damage the city’s water in any way.

The Bonner County Sportsmen’s Association voted to formally protest any explosive tests in Lake Pend Oreille. They worried that the first test would lead to many more in the future. A delegation, led by Dr. Wendle, met with a similar organization in Spokane to discuss how to proceed. Before the end of February, petitions circulated in Sandpoint and Coeur d’Alene to “protest the use of the water in Lake Pend Oreille for explosive experiments.” Within a matter of days, 6,000 people had signed. The protests caught the attention of national media, and one Sunday, CBS featured Mumma, Jim Parsons, Sr., and Spokane City Councilor Willard Taft.

The Sportsmen’s Association continued its opposition, lobbying Gov. Jordan and questioning Fish and Game’s initial approval of tests. How was it, they wondered, that the department charged with protecting wildlife would grant the Navy permission to destroy wildlife? They worried that Lake Pend Oreille — one of the finest fishing lakes in the country — would become an explosives testing ground. Meanwhile, in Spokane, Taft threatened court action.

By early March, Sen. Magnuson told Dill that he had done all that he could to stop the tests, including taking the issue to top officials. 

The secretary of the Navy had said that Lake Pend Oreille was the only location that met all of the requirements for the tests, and they were “a vital part of the defense program.” Reluctant to challenge further, Magnuson said he had to “rely on the good faith of the secretary and his associates, when they assert their investigation shows that much of the fear on the part of the local residents is ill-founded.”

Unlike Magnuson, the people of North Idaho were not reassured, and their protest petitions — along with the lobbying and adverse publicity, soon achieved their desired outcome. On March 7, 1952, Navy Secretary Kimball wrote to Sen. Magnuson that the Navy had “indefinitely postponed the explosive tests,” citing both the protests as well as a request from Gov. Jordan.

The 1952 fishing season opened May 3 — the seventh annual observance of Kamloops and Kokanee Day. In anticipation of the popular occasion, the Sandpoint News-Bulletin wrote, “The lake the Navy tried unsuccessfully to ‘bomb’ is going to get ‘bombed’ anyway — with hundreds of flashing plugs and gaily painted lures.” 

A group of Lake Pend Oreille anglers, circa 1947. Photo courtesy of Bonner County Historical Society.

While the winning fish that day did not set any records, everyone celebrated the big win for the lake’s fish.

The furor over the proposed “bombing” of Lake Pend Oreille taught both the Navy and Idaho officials a valuable lesson about the need for transparency. In the spring of 1952, citing the protests over the explosive testing, the Idaho State Land Board decided to hold a public meeting over the Navy’s request to moor a barge permanently on the lake. 

This electronics barge, with four civilian scientists and technical employees, would be anchored off Cape Horn and used in the measurement of underwater acoustics — with no explosives or poisonous materials involved. 

This research continues today at the Navy’s Acoustic Research Detachment at Bayview.

Nancy Foster Renk is a local historian and writer. This article first appeared in her blog  northidahopastpresent.com.

Special thanks to the Bonner County Historical Society and Museum for the free usage of historic lake photos.