Imagine a single fossil discovery so groundbreaking that it reshapes an entire scientific field. That’s exactly what happened in the Comox Valley, where an amateur fossil hunter’s find forever altered the course of paleontology in British Columbia. But here’s where it gets controversial: Could this discovery have remained buried, lost to science, if not for the passion of one man and the community he inspired? Let’s dive into this remarkable story.
In the crisp days of late autumn 1988, Richard Hebda, then the head of botany at the Royal BC Museum, found himself in the living room of Mike Trask, a Courtenay resident. Hebda had received a tip about a potential fossil find along the Puntledge River. Having recently been misled by a report of dinosaur ribs—which turned out to be dirtbike tracks—Hebda wasn’t expecting much. But this visit would prove to be anything but ordinary.
Trask, an amateur fossil enthusiast, had stumbled upon something extraordinary while exploring the river with his 13-year-old daughter, Heather. Laid out on newspapers in front of a crackling fireplace were a series of grey, tubular rocks. Hebda’s trained eye immediately recognized them as fossilized vertebrae from a large animal. And this is the part most people miss: At that time, no significant vertebrate fossils—animals with backbones and internal skeletons—had ever been found on Vancouver Island. This discovery was uncharted territory.
Hebda took samples to Betsy Nicholls, a paleontologist at the Royal Tyrrell Museum specializing in marine reptiles. Nicholls identified the fossils as belonging to an elasmosaur, a prehistoric marine reptile that swam the oceans during the late Cretaceous period, around 85 million years ago. With its small head and impossibly long neck, it resembled the mythical Loch Ness monster. Remarkably, this was the first elasmosaur specimen found west of the Canadian Rocky Mountains.
Trask, understanding the scientific value of his find, knew that piecing together the entire skeleton was crucial. He collaborated with Rolf Ludvigson, an invertebrate paleontologist, to organize a large-scale excavation. In 1991, the Courtenay and District Museum advertised for volunteers, and over 50 people braved relentless rain and near-freezing temperatures to join the dig. Over three months, the team excavated 100 cubic meters of earth—equivalent to filling three 20-foot shipping containers—and uncovered a nearly complete elasmosaur skeleton.
Inspired by the discovery, Trask began teaching a paleontology and geology course at North Island College. Despite lacking formal training in paleontology, his lifelong passion for fossils and background as an engineering surveyor gave him a deep understanding of the field. On a field trip to the Puntledge River, one of his students, radiologist Joe Zanbilowicz, discovered a small vertebra embedded in a shale cliff. This led to the unearthing of another marine reptile, later identified as a new genus and species: Kourisodon puntledgensis, a mosasaur with unique razor-blade-like teeth.
The excitement surrounding these discoveries sparked the formation of the Vancouver Island Paleontological Society in 1992, the first of its kind in the province. What began as an informal group of 30 to 50 Comox Valley residents soon grew to over 160 members, inspiring similar societies in Victoria, Vancouver, and Qualicum Beach. But how would these groups share knowledge? Enter the British Columbia Paleontological Alliance, an umbrella organization that united amateur collectors and professional paleontologists to advance the field.
One of the alliance’s most significant achievements was advocating for fossil management policies in B.C. In 2022, the province adopted regulations prohibiting the commercial sale and removal of fossils, ensuring they remain accessible for scientific study. This shift transformed B.C. from a paleontological afterthought into a hotspot of discovery, with hundreds of new genera and species identified over the years.
Trask’s elasmosaur became a symbol of this transformation. In 2023, it was designated as the provincial fossil, alongside iconic symbols like the Pacific dogwood and spirit bear. Yet, despite its significance, the specimen’s poor preservation prevented its formal description for decades. It wasn’t until 2025, when Trask’s twin brother, Pat, discovered another elasmosaur specimen, that paleontologist Robin O’Keefe could finally name a new genus and species: Traskasaura sandrae, honoring Mike, Heather, and Pat Trask.
Mike Trask passed away in May 2025, just two weeks after learning of this honor. His legacy, however, lives on. As Hebda aptly put it, Trask embodied the spirit of the citizen scientist, proving that curiosity and community can drive scientific breakthroughs far beyond the walls of formal institutions.
Now, here’s a thought-provoking question: In an era where scientific discoveries often rely on advanced technology and funding, how much do we undervalue the role of passionate amateurs like Mike Trask? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s keep this conversation going!
