Early white pioneers in Palm Springs had to overcome a major obstacle as they settled in the desert: the lack of an adequate, consistent source of water.
In the beginning, there was the mineral-laden, sulfur-tasting hot water that bubbled up from the springs local Indigenous residents called Séc-he. They had been drinking that water for many hundreds of years and felt they were healthy because of—not in spite of—it. The first white men in the area drank it, but usually from ollas which they filled and let sit a while to let the strong mineral taste dissipate.
With the emergence of the village of Palm Springs, many settlers claimed therapeutic results from drinking the spring water. J. Smeaton Chase, in his 1920 book Our Araby, claimed: “Good results have been found to follow the use of the water of the hot spring, both for bathing and drinking, in cases of kidney disease.”
Additional water came from a small stream at the base of the mountain in Tahquitz Canyon which local Native Americans had lined with stone, leading to an 18-inch flow.
When John G. McCallum, the first non-Indigenous settler of Palm Springs, wanted to develop a village in the mid-1880s, he knew more water was necessary. He first went to the source of the springs in Tahquitz Canyon and, with the help of the Native Americans, enlarged the flow of water to 75 inches. (It was reported that some Native Americans avoided drinking that water because of the Tahquitz legend.)
To start an agricultural community, McCallum knew more water was needed. There was some water in nearby Andreas Canyon, but it belonged to the Indigenous people living there and was used by them. Then there was the Whitewater River, which tumbled down from the slopes of Mount San Gorgonio before disappearing into the sand. With an investment of $60,000 of his own money and the assistance of Native Americans, McCallum had a 19-mile flume built, bringing in water from the Whitewater River. It rounded the point of the desert (Windy Point) on big redwood flumes on high trestles, and tunneled through the mountain to an 8-mile-long stone canal, bringing water for citrus trees, grapes, alfalfa, apricots, dates and more—even though the flume constantly needed repairs due to damage caused by the wind and sand.
On Feb. 1, 1887, McCallum incorporated his Palm Valley Land and Water Company with 5,000 shares of stock valued at $100 each. The irrigation ditch flowed full, watering orange groves, melon patches and vineyards on the 80-acre McCallum Ranch. Waterwheels were used to fill water-storage barrels.
Local Native Americans eventually got their share—but only after complaints from them to ensure they, too, would benefit from the water diverted across their land. The government declared that the company would have the rights to the water, as long as Native Americans were guaranteed free water for their 160 acres of land on Section 14, as well as an additional 160 acres, should that area be developed.
Then came the prolonged, devastating 11-year drought from 1894 to 1905. It eventually caused the Whitewater River to become only a trickle and forced most of the new settlers to abandon their lots and their dreams. Welwood Murray, who opened the Palm Springs Hotel in 1887, reportedly loved his trees and plants more than anything, and was so distraught that he diverted the last remaining trickle of flume water for his trees. This infuriated local Native Americans, who complained to Mr. Collins, then the Indian agent in Riverside—who issued a dictum stating that all the water belonged to the Indigenous residents.
The drought and Collins’ ruling led to a lot of anger and frustration. When a flash flood filled the flume, Native Americans, emboldened by Collins’ ruling, reportedly opposed the opening of sluices to irrigate the settlers’ land. Frantic for water, at night, colonists opened them by force, using crowbars and hammers. Settlers saw the agent’s decision as an uninformed action by a meddling government.
During the 1890s, McCallum was often gone from the valley, visiting his sick daughter May in Chicago; he left his son Harry in charge. As the drought continued, many ranchers fell behind in payments for the land and the assessments to keep the ditch in good repair. After McCallum’s death in 1897, his family was forced to sell their interest in the Palm Valley Land and Water Company to Los Angeles land promoter Ralph Rogers. Rogers convinced the Native Americans to help, and they made the necessary repairs to the ditch.
The initial water system changed hands several times after that. Today, Palm Springs’ water is supplied by the Desert Water Agency.
The Water Beneath
The entire Coachella Valley sits on an enormous aquifer. As early as 1853, Prof. William P. Blake, the geologist who accompanied the government railroad survey, predicted that artesian water would be found.
In 1888, the Southern Pacific Railroad successfully dug a few wells at Thermal and Walters (now Mecca) in the east valley—and from the start, fresh, pure water was found. By the early 20th century, the U.S. government had begun digging local wells in the Coachella Valley. Scores of wells were eventually dug with successful results.
In some places, the water would be at depths of 50 to 200 feet, or even deeper, and needed to be pumped; in others, the water pressure was so strong that gushes flowed above the ground.
In his 1914 book, California: Romantic and Beautiful, author George Wharton James talks about his Coachella experience: “In 1913 I put in a well on land I had purchased from the Southern Pacific Company. We went down in the neighborhood of 900 feet, and there came rushing out, with great force over the casing, a flow of between 55 and 60 inches.”
In 1918, the residents of Indio and the east valley voted to establish the Coachella Valley County Water District (now the Coachella Valley Water District). They decided to bring in water from the Colorado River to supplement and replenish the great underground flow. It took 30 years, but in March 1948, the 123.5-mile-long Coachella Branch of the All-American Canal began delivering water. In 1969, the CVWD built a reservoir, named Lake Cahuilla, a 183-acre site in La Quinta that holds about 1,300-acre feet of water. Today, Lake Cahuilla Veterans Regional Park offers camping, picnicking and fishing.
Sources for this article include The McCallum Saga: The Story of the Founding of Palm Springs by Katherine Ainsworth (Palm Springs Desert Museum, 1973); Our Araby by J. Smeaton Chase (Star-News Publishing, 1920); California: Romantic and Beautiful by George Wharton James (Page Co., 1914); and Coachella Valley’s Golden Years by the Coachella Valley County Water District (1968).