The History of the Rubber Duck
- Signa Gillysdottir
- Aug 15
- 2 min read

Welcome back to the History Nook!
Today, we’re taking a look at something you’re all very familiar with as we waddle into the history of everyone’s favourite bath-time friend: the rubber duck.
So grab your favourite mug, find a soft space to curl up, and let's wander a little deeper into the past.
Did you know our cheery yellow bath companion started life not as a bath toy, but as a chew toy—for both babies and dogs?
In 1844, Charles Goodyear (yes, the tyre guy) patented vulcanized rubber. This process made rubber more durable, flexible, and water-resistant—opening the door for all sorts of new products, including the first rubber ducks. But these early duckies, made in the late 1800s, weren’t the friendly, floaty fellows we know today. They were solid rubber, unable to float, and designed to be gnawed rather than splashed about.
It wasn’t until the 1930s that rubber ducks made the leap to the bathtub. Some clever soul realised these charming little shapes might just coax reluctant children into bath time. In 1931, Eleanor Shannahan designed a version that would, in her own words, “produce a fountain-like effect, and enable the playing of pranks by one person on another by the squirting of a fine stream of spray upon the face or other parts of a person.”
Not going to lie—I want one of those.
From there, the duck’s popularity only grew. The true pop culture explosion came in 1970 when the song Rubber Duckie aired on Sesame Street. From that moment, the duck was cemented as a bath-time icon. Whether you’ve owned one or not (and I’d wager you have), it’s hard to picture a bathtub without that little flash of yellow.
Bonus fact: In 2011, the largest rubber duck collection in the world numbered 5,631, according to Guinness World Records. Imagine the shelf space.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed your time in The History Nook today.
Until next time, stay curious, and keep warm.
🐾 A Footnote from Index: 🐾
Chew toys? In my bath? Absolutely not. Baths are bad enough without rubber poultry staring at you. Now, if they made a floating roast chicken, we could talk.

Comments