For years, fishermen traded tall tales about the beast who lived at the bottom of the lake. He was huge, those who had seen him agreed, pulling ducks underwater and stealing fish from reel lines.
Old Bob, the giant alligator snapping turtle of Fullerton's Laguna Lake, was the stuff of legend.
In September, workers dredging the lake as part of a restoration project found truth in the rumors as they netted the 4-foot-long, 100-pound turtle.
But as quickly as Old Bob surfaced, he disappeared again.
Old Bob is hiding out at an undisclosed location in Orange County, his whereabouts a closely guarded secret. Only the highest-ranking officers of the local California Turtle & Tortoise Club know how to find him.
And that's how it's going to stay.
"He's in a secure, locked-down location," said Sharon Paquette, vice president of the club's Brea-based Orange County chapter.
Caught in limbo like a traveler without a passport, Old Bob is sitting tight until his handlers obtain the state permits they need to keep him.
"We're just hoping that somebody will come through that can obtain the proper permits; we would like to keep him in Orange County," Paquette said.
Alligator snapping turtles are native to the southeastern U.S., but, like most nonnative species, they are illegal to have in California without the proper state permits. Paquette, who kept Old Bob in her backyard until an appropriate pond was found for him, suspects that the turtle was a pet that got too big to handle and was released into the lake.
In the wild, alligator snapping turtles can weigh up to 250 pounds and live to 100. Paquette estimated that Old Bob is 40 years old and still growing.
When last heard from publicly, Old Bob was going to be flown to a preserve in Virginia. But Paquette and others charged with his care worried that he wouldn't be able to adjust to freezing temperatures and light frosts.
They were also afraid he'd be bullied by bigger, older turtles with more experience foraging for food in the wild. Worst of all, they feared somebody would hunt him.
Living in Laguna Lake, Old Bob feasted on a year-round buffet of waterfowl and fish.
"He's never had to fight for food, never had to hunt," Paquette said. "He's basically had a very cushy life."
The turtle now lives in a private pond where Paquette and her husband visit him daily, replenishing his liquid pantry with shrimp, smelt and dozens of crayfish.
