Searsville: Inundated and almost forgotten

Dennis Martin, an Irishman by way of Missouri, got to California early in 1844, married a San Francisco colleen in 1849, and the next year moved on down the Peninsula to the Raymundo redwoods and bought property. By 1853, he owned the area that would be called Searsville. At least, he thought he owned it. Before he lost title to the land, Martin had helped to develop the lumber industry there and had contributed generously to the community, including a schoolhouse.

John Sears, a New Yorker, came to California in 1850 on the Steamer Powhattan, thinking "gold,” but not finding it. Thinking again, he moved on down to the redwood area and operated an inn from 1853 to 1862. The village probably should have been named Martinville, but somehow Searsville stuck. Sears sold his inn in 1862 and moved to La Honda where he had a store and a tavern built, reportedly constructed by the Younger brothers who apparently had some free time between bank robberies.

The new owner of Sear’s old inn was Moses Davis, a shady character even on a sunny day. When his inn burned in 1866, evidence was found in the charred remains of a "poker-telegraph,” wires that were strung all through the building that relayed information to "the house” that tipped the odds rather heavily in that direction. Moses made a quick exodus out of town.

The year 1850 brought another key player to the Searsville area: August Eikerenkotter, from Prussia. He too went to the gold fields first, then got smart and opened a hotel in Searsville. He added a store and, in 1858, was awarded a post office location. Eikerenkotter came to stay. Forty years later, he was still there when his hotel burned. He had become one of Searsville’s most important citizens.

William Page tried the gold fields too. He re-grouped and turned to the redwoods where he became a successful timber manager and supplied logs to the Searsville mills. He built his own mill later in another area, constructing a road from the mill to the embarcadero at Palo Alto called Page’s Mill or Page Mill Road.

In 1866, Judge Horace Templeton filed a plat map and the name Searsville became official. By 1867, the amenities included the hotel, a saloon, a blacksmith, a butcher, general store, post office and a saloon. Searsville was just a wide spot on the road between Woodside and what would become Portola Valley, but on Sundays it might as well have been Dodge City or Las Vegas. Loggers and teamsters flooded into the town and a good time was had by all: drinking, gambling, horse-racing, cock-fighting, bear-baiting, brawling. One old-timer reported that a giant redwood tree across the road from Mr. Eikerenkotter’s hotel, used as a target, was so full of lead it could not be cut through with a saw.

By 1870, most of the big timber had been logged out, and Searsville civilized itself down. There would be one more "hurrah,” however. In 1872, gold was discovered and in 1875, silver. In 1876, there was another silver discovery, this time on the John Murray ranch. Murray quickly sold part of his claim for $3,000. Prospectors swarmed through the area like an army of ants, finding precious little of the precious treasure. There were rumors that the land had been "salted” with tempting morsels of metal.

In the 1880s, the Spring Valley Water Company decided San Francisco needed more water. The citizens of little Searsville fought a good fight, but unlike David, they lost to Goliath. They were no match for the Water Company and the United States Twelfth District Court which issued a writ of condemnation. By 1892, a 50-foot concrete dam was built and the valley began to fill with water. Helpless to stop the water, the people took apart the buildings and reclaimed the lumber. It was lumber, after all, that had built Searsville, in every sense of the word. One citizen who profited from the loss of the town was Julius Eikerenkotter, son of August. In 1891, Julius had won the contract to supply the cement — 14,000 barrels of it — brought to the site by rail from San Francisco. The sand from North Beach came by schooner and was hauled to the site by horse-drawn wagons. The old school-house had been built on high ground and was used until 1894 when the lake waters rose to within lapping distance. The building was then moved to a new location on a ranch.

The new reservoir had the capacity to store 330 million gallons of water, but the delivery system to San Francisco was never completed. It seems the people of San Francisco weren’t as thirsty as first reported. They didn’t need the water. What to do with the new lake! Well, why not make it a luxury destination for well-to-do San Franciscans? If they wouldn’t drink the water, maybe they’d like to play with it. A fancy hotel, the Ysola, was built overlooking Searsville Lake. Soon weekenders were buying lakeside property and building cottages. Eventually, Stanford University took over the lake and surrounding property, using the water for irrigation of the campus, for recreation and for a wildlife habitat.

About those lost cities? Well, they’re not so lost after all.

You can find Atlantis in the encyclopedia and Brigadoon on a marquee. And Searsville, the village that tried, but died? It’s remembered too, by you and every curious reader who re-discovers the Peninsula on the pages of the Daily Journal.

Rediscovering the Peninsula by Darold Fredricks appears in the Monday edition of the Daily Journal