Have you ever tried to catch fish in a river full with piranhas with sharp teeth? That’s how it felt to trade on some of the first crypto exchanges, and one name still comes up in old-school chats, like the ghost in a campfire story. Cryptsy. You will always remember it if you were there. If you missed it, get ready. Find out here.

There weren’t any fireworks when Cryptsy started. It came out in 2013 and promised to make exchanging a huge number of digital currency straightforward. Some coins were so obscure that even the people who made them probably forgot their names the next year. But back then, huge exchanges didn’t care about everyone’s favorite meme coin or a random forked project. Cryptsy was the strange market where you could sell that one currency you mined by mistake on your day off.

At first, it looked like a relatively easygoing place. People got on, traded a few things, and spoke a lot. There were memes, gossip, and a feeling of wild freedom. People thought that crypto was “frontier” because sometimes your deposit took longer than a DMV line. A few older traders quietly told others, “Don’t keep your money on any exchange.” Some people did listen. A lot of people didn’t.

Things went strange all of a sudden. Withdrawals slowed down, as if the gears behind the scenes were grinding themselves to dust. Whispers erupted into shouts. There were angry threads. Some people said, “Where’s my bitcoin?” “Anyone else missing withdrawal?” others asked. Trust started to waver, like a house of cards shaking every time someone coughed. Some people merely shrugged and went on with their lives. Others crossed their fingers and hoped for the best as they refreshed their balance screens.

By 2015, it was apparent as day that something was wrong. It wasn’t only the exorbitant costs or the odd technological problem. People were losing money. Not just a few lost Satoshis; millions of them disappeared. The idea that something other than user activity was draining cash became more and more likely.

Lawyers and internet detectives looked very closely. People pointed fingers. Lawsuits flew around like snow in the winter. The curtain finally came down in 2017, and everyone took notice when authorities held someone accountable. Not only a poorly run mess, but also theft—of the nasty type.

What happened next? People who lost their coins nursed their wounds and promised never to keep their treasure on one platform again. They chanted “Not your keys, not your coins” at meetups and wrote it down in forums. Exchanges grew better at keeping things safe. Like putting on sunscreen at the beach, “due diligence” became a buzzword. You didn’t always want to do it, but you did if you cared about your skin.

Let the fate of Cryptsy get into the heads of all crypto fans. Trust isn’t a handshake or a computerized coin flip. Check again. If you have to, check three times. There hasn’t always been a clear path to success in trading. Sometimes there are also showers of asteroids. Be careful and keep your money close. Crypto is exciting, but don’t forget your life jacket.

Have you ever tried to catch fish in a river full with piranhas with sharp teeth? That’s how it felt to trade on some of the first crypto exchanges, and one name still comes up in old-school chats, like the ghost in a campfire story. Cryptsy. You will always remember it if you were there. If you missed it, get ready. Find out here.

There weren’t any fireworks when Cryptsy started. It came out in 2013 and promised to make exchanging a huge number of digital currency straightforward. Some coins were so obscure that even the people who made them probably forgot their names the next year. But back then, huge exchanges didn’t care about everyone’s favorite meme coin or a random forked project. Cryptsy was the strange market where you could sell that one currency you mined by mistake on your day off.

At first, it looked like a relatively easygoing place. People got on, traded a few things, and spoke a lot. There were memes, gossip, and a feeling of wild freedom. People thought that crypto was “frontier” because sometimes your deposit took longer than a DMV line. A few older traders quietly told others, “Don’t keep your money on any exchange.” Some people did listen. A lot of people didn’t.

Things went strange all of a sudden. Withdrawals slowed down, as if the gears behind the scenes were grinding themselves to dust. Whispers erupted into shouts. There were angry threads. Some people said, “Where’s my bitcoin?” “Anyone else missing withdrawal?” others asked. Trust started to waver, like a house of cards shaking every time someone coughed. Some people merely shrugged and went on with their lives. Others crossed their fingers and hoped for the best as they refreshed their balance screens.

By 2015, it was apparent as day that something was wrong. It wasn’t only the exorbitant costs or the odd technological problem. People were losing money. Not just a few lost Satoshis; millions of them disappeared. The idea that something other than user activity was draining cash became more and more likely.

Lawyers and internet detectives looked very closely. People pointed fingers. Lawsuits flew around like snow in the winter. The curtain finally came down in 2017, and everyone took notice when authorities held someone accountable. Not only a poorly run mess, but also theft—of the nasty type.

What happened next? People who lost their coins nursed their wounds and promised never to keep their treasure on one platform again. They chanted “Not your keys, not your coins” at meetups and wrote it down in forums. Exchanges grew better at keeping things safe. Like putting on sunscreen at the beach, “due diligence” became a buzzword. You didn’t always want to do it, but you did if you cared about your skin.

Let the fate of Cryptsy get into the heads of all crypto fans. Trust isn’t a handshake or a computerized coin flip. Check again. If you have to, check three times. There hasn’t always been a clear path to success in trading. Sometimes there are also showers of asteroids. Be careful and keep your money close. Crypto is exciting, but don’t forget your life jacket.