Current picture of the Point Cabrillo Lighthouse (2007)

Although Point Cabrillo was surveyed by the U. S. Lighthouse Service in 1873, construction of the Light Station didn’t begin until after the 1906 earthquake. The demand for lumber to rebuild San Francisco meant that maritime commerce on the north coast was at an all time high and a Lighthouse was critical to the safety of the ships and their valuable cargo. Construction of the Light Station began in 1908, and the lens was illuminated for the first time on June 10, 1909, under head keeper Wilhelm Baumgartner.

Baumgartner invited the neighbors and residents of Pine Grove to attend the midnight ceremony.

Built and managed by the US. Lighthouse Service under the Department of Commerce the original Point Cabrillo Light Station included the buildings still standing today (with the exception of the current pump house and water tank). These include the three keeper’s residences, the coal buildings (now garages), the carpentry shop and smithy, and the oil house. Several other structures - two water towers, a barn, and the original pump house have since been removed. The barn, which was located to the south of the residences at the end of a side road, was used as a U. S. Air Force radio monitor’s training facility after WW II. It was burned by the Volunteer Fire Dept. as an exercise in the late 1980s.

The U. S. Lighthouse Service was officially absorbed into the Coast Guard in 1939. Bill Owens/ who also served at the Point Arena Lighthouse, was the last civilian lighthouse keeper at Point Cabrillo. He retired in 1963. Coast Guard officers and their families continued to live in the keepers houses until the Conservancy took possession in 1992.

The light tower houses a third order, British-built Fresnel lens by Chance Bros., with a range of 13-15 miles. The lens was originally powered by a kerosene oil lamp. There are only 2 other British-built lenses in operation in the U.S. today: A 1st Order lens at Heceta Head Lighthouse in Oregon, and a 2nd Order range light (”fixed”) at Battery Point, Staten Island, New York.

Originally the lens rotated by means of a clockworks mechanism with a descending weight. A chain with a 65-80 LB weight on the end of it passed through the floor of each level of the light tower. The light keeper would crank up the chain onto a drum every 2 hours. At some point, a portion of the concrete foundation on the ground floor was removed to add an additional 4-5 feet to the chain, gaining (perhaps) an additional ten minutes between windings. The clockworks were replaced with an electric motor and the oil lamp with a light bulb when electricity was introduced at the Station in 1935

The lens rotated at a fixed speed and produced a flash at ten second intervals. The rotation pattern of a lighthouse is printed on the nautical chart, it’s the lighthouse “signature” and must not vary.

The main part of the structure is called the “fog signal building”. It housed two pairs of engines and compressors that created a siren using compressed air.

A head keeper and two assistants rotated shifts to keep the light burning and the compressors powered. They also cleaned and painted and kept the lens and station machinery in working order. The lighthouse service gave them each a house for their family and a yearly salary of $450-$600/ and they raised crops and livestock.

In 1973, the Fresnel lens was disengaged, and an aero-marine type rotating beacon was mounted on the roof of the fog signal building. The original lens remained in the lantern room but the clockworks and fog signal machinery were removed.

In 1996 the Conservancy was awarded a federal grant through the ISTEA program (Intermodal Surface Transportation Enhancement Activities) for the restoration of the lantern room and the creation of public service facilities at Point Cabrillo (parking and restrooms). Work on the project began in August of 1998 when the Fresnel lens was dismantled and removed from the lantern room. The lantern room restoration was completed in April 1999 and the Fresnel lens was refurbished and reinstated as the active aid in time for Point Cabrillo’s 90th Anniversary. The restoration of the Fresnel lens was funded by the NCIA with assistance from the Coast Guard. The restoration of the fog signal building was funded by the NCIA and the Coastal Conservancy. The restoration of the rest of the lighthouse tower and fog signal building was completed in August of 2001 with funds provided by the Coastal Conservancy and the NCIA.

Point Arena Lighthouse (2007)

The first Point Arena Lighthouse was constructed in 1870.  Its brick and mortar tower featured ornate iron balcony supports and a large Keeper residence with enough space to house several families.  In April of 1906, a devastating earthquake struck the tower.  Damage from the trembler occurred all along the San Andreas Fault, which runs very close to Point Arena.  In the town itself, many buildings were reduced to rubble, and at the Light Station, the Keeper’s residence and Lighthouse were damaged so severely that they were rendered condemned, and ultimately torn down.

The United States Lighthouse Service contracted with a San Francisco based company to build a new lighthouse here to withstand any future earthquakes.  The company built factory smokestacks, which accounts for the final design for the new Point Arena Lighthouse.  The new design featured steel reinforcement rods encased in concrete, and was the first lighthouse to be built in this manner.

The new Lighthouse began operation in 1908, nearly 18 months after the quake.  It stands 115 feet tall, and features a 1st Order Fresnel Lens, over six feet in diameter and weighing more than six tons.  The lens is made up of 666 hand-ground glass prisms all focused toward three sets of double bulls eyes.  It is these bulls eyes that gave the Point Arena Lighthouse its unique “light signature” of two flashes every six seconds.  This incredible optic, that holds an appraised value of over $3.5 million, is set in solid brass framework, built in France.

Prior to the introduction of electricity, the lens was rotated by a clockwork mechanism.  The Keepers, or “wickies” as they were called, had to hand crank a 160 pound weight up the center shaft of the lighthouse every 75 minutes to keep the lens turning.  Light was produced by a “Funks” hydraulic oil lamp, that needed to be refueled every four hours, and whose wicks would have to be trimmed regularly.  Later, two 1,000 watt electric lamps were installed to replace the oil lamp, and a 1/8 horsepower electric motor was installed to replace the clockworks.

In 1978, the fog signal at the station was silenced, and a bell buoy was placed nearby.  June of 1977 brought the installation of an automated aircraft-type beacon on the balcony tower, and the historic 1st Order Fresnel Lens was discontinued.  The 400 pound aircraft beacon has recently been replaced by a 40 pound modern rotating light that incorporates the Fresnel principles for the efficient projection of light.  There is a battery powered emergency system installed  as a back-up in the event of a power failure.  In addition, a radio beacon, with a 50 mile signal that originates from the station, also assists mariners.  The original oil lamp was visible for approximately 18 miles, the 1st Order Fresnel Lens for 20 miles and the current modern rotating light can be seen for 16 miles.

In 1984, a nonprofit organization called the Point Arena Lighthouse Keepers acquired the light station as part of a 25 year land lease from the Coast Guard and the Department of Transportation.  In November of 2000, the nonprofit group became the official owners of the property due to their diligent historic preservation and educational efforts.  Daily visitation, gift store sales, memberships and the rental of the historic Keeper’s homes on the property as vacation houses, all provide desperately needed income for ongoing preservation, facility upgrades and educational endeavors.

Albion lies directly on California’s Highway 1 north of Navarro, and south of Little River. It lies just north of the intersection of Highway 128 and Highway 1 (Shoreline Highway).

Albion Bridge under construction 1944.

Albion River Bridge today (2007)

Albion has two bridges, spanning the Albion River and the Little Salmon Creek. The Albion River Bridge, built in 1944 when steel and concrete were in short supply, remains the last wooden bridge still in use on Highway 1.

In 1845, Mexico awarded English sea captain William Richardson a large land grant, stretching along the California coast between present day towns of Elk and Mendocino. By 1853 Richardson had built, in the middle of this tract, a home and sawmill alongside a narrow river estuary. He named the spot Albion, after the ancient name for his homeland.

Richardson’s sawmill was the first to begin operation along the Redwood Coast. It was powered by a tide-driven water wheel, which would operate whether the tide was coming in or going out. Unfortunetly, the mill was destroyed by ocean waves during its first winter. Richardson rebuilt the mill the following year, steam driven this time, but lost all his land that same year when the U.S Land Commission refused to recognize his Mexican title.

A sawmill would continue to operate at this location over the next 75 years. By 1861 a hotel, livery stable, and mercantile store were also in operation.

This is the Albion New Cash Store. (circa 1905)

The Albion South Side Hotel (circa 1905)

The Albion Mill between 1909-11.

Albion in the 1940,s.

This story is about where the Navarro River enters into the Pacific Ocean only 8 miles south of Stevenswood Spa Resort. Most guests visiting the area come by this direction where Highway 128 meets Highway 1 on the Mendocino Coast.

The Mendocino Coast is rich with history. From the lumber mills that sprang along the coast line after the earlier settlers discovered the great giant redwood groves, to shipbuilding for moving the lumber down to the Bay Area and beyond. This is one such story one of Mendocino’s earliest pioneers.

The Navarro-by-the-Sea-Hotel in about 1948

Captain Fletcher’s Inn is located in Navarro River Redwoods State Park at Navarro Beach, 8 miles south of Little River. The Inn was built in the 1860’s by Charles Fletcher and his partners for sailors off the lumber schooners that served the Navarro mill. Charles Fletcher was the first settler at Navarro. (ca.1851). He and his partner James Kennedy built the first lumber schooner on the Mendocino coast, the Sea Nymph, in 1862.

History:

Captain Fletcher’s father was a Scottish sea captain. Charles was born in the China seas on the Schooner “Wildcat”. He came to San Francisco in 1849 during the gold rush. In 1851, he had arrived on the north coast, apparently as captain of a whaling ship.

Captain Fletcher, in partnership with James Kennedy and Captain Thomas Kennedy of San Francisco, built the inn during the 1860’s for sailors who had to wait three days while their schooners were loaded with lumber from the Navarro Mill. The Navarro Mill was built in 1861 by the firm of Tichenor and Company of San Francisco, on land purchased from Charles Fletcher for $1,200. The first mill was built on the Navarro Flats near Captain Fletcher’s home.

An artists rendition of Navarro Mill about 1878.

The Navarro wharf in about 1886 with the steamer “Newsboy” taking on lumber from the mill. In 1860, after he sold most of his land to Tichenor and Byxbee, Charles Fletcher married Bridget Cooney of Mendocino, a widow from Roscommon, Ireland. They built a large house, which replaced Fletcher’s original redwood cabin, and raised four children there. The Fletcher family was one of the last to live in the old village of Navarro. Charles Fletcher died in 1902. His daughter, Ellen (Nellie) Fletcher Schaeffer inherited both the Inn and the family home. When she moved to Fort Bragg in early 1920’s, her daughter, Elsie Nystrom purchased the house and Inn for $10.

Captain Fletcher’s Inn has survived three major fires, the earthquake of 1906 and the devasting flood of 1907 that swept away a bridge near the mouth of the Navarro.

After the mill was sold, it burned down under mysterious circumstances. The fire occured in 1902, the same year that Captain Fletcher died. This was followed by the fire of 1911, the quake of 1906 and the flood of 1907, all of which damaged Navarro. By 1914, the name “Navarro” was usurped by the town of Wendling, located eleven miles up the river. Wendling also had a lumber mill for sale, and wanted to capitalize on the Navarro name for quality lumber. The town still bears the name “Navarro”.

What remained of the original village of Navarro eventually became know as “Navarro-by-the-Sea.” Captain Fletcher’s Inn and the mill manager’s house are now the only buildings remaining from the once thriving town of Navarro. At its height, it had 500-600 inhabitants, with another 300 men located in camps in the woods up river.

The Inn Served as a popular fishing resort from the 1920’s through the 1970’s under various owners. It was purchased in 1996 by the California Department of Parks and Recreation.

Captain Charles Fletcher.

August 16, 1902 (obituary): From the Mendocino Beacon
“[Charles Fletcher was] highly respected as a business man and as a citizen. He was generous with his employees…large hearted, fearless and honest, he was a representative type of the hardy pioneers of this state…”

Captain Fletcher’s final resting place at the Little River Cemetary, California.

Picture taken in 1980’s

Here is how Captain Fletcher’s Inn looks today.

Little River Farming Tradition, Past and Present

Story by Margi Gomez

In the mid 1800s, the small coastal town of Little River was then called Beall’s Harbor, after the three Beall [pronounced “Bell”] brothers who were among the first to settle in the area as game hunters. The area was just beginning to stir in response to the extravagant promises of the California gold rush. Three years after his marriage to Charlotte Curtis Cofren, William Henry Kent of Mount Vernon, Maine, came to California in 1850 to try his luck in its gold mines. It was a three-month voyage by ship, traveling around Cape Horn to the port of San Francisco. Finding the life in the gold fields hazardous to his health, he traveled north, working for a time as a rancher in Anderson Valley, as a mill worker, and as a logger up Big River. He purchased the approximately six hundred-acre Beall property and retreated to cabin life there, while still working in the woods and at the seasonal mills in what was then called Mendocino City.

For five years, William and Charlotte Kent exchanged beautifully written missives in which they declared their fondness and loyalty, one to the other. The letters made their way between Little River, or Kent’s Landing, as it came to be known, and Vienna, Maine, where Charlotte was living with her family. Charlotte fretted all the while, as learned in this letter to William in 1853:

“My dear husband, …it is truly a great privilege that I write…but very far greater would be my happiness to see you in person. Often do I see you in the hours of slumber but alas when I awake it is all a dream.”
She continues, “…I think if you are unfortunate now it is high time you leave California. If it is certain that fate is against you why not submit to it and let it go…”

She complains of poor health and sleepless nights, and considers, then quickly rejects, the notion of making the long trip around the Isthmus of Panama by steamship. “…There is nothing that will restore me to health again but for you to come home as soon as you can. You spoke in your letter about my going to California. I would gladly meet in that land but I don’t think I should live to get (there) if I should start to go alone, that is to go with a stranger. I don’t know anyone who is going and I don’t think Wm. you would want me to go alone so I think it is best to say no more about it.”

Practical concerns, of course, must also be considered. Charlotte inserts, “You spoke of sending me 300 the next mail. I shall be very glad to get it…for I have seen very dark times since your absence.”
She goes on, “If you come home and think to go back you will have me for your company…Never will anything but death separate us again, no never never.”

Charlotte chats, “I am rejoiced to hear there is no change in you, that you look as you did when you went away, that your hair is no grayer than when you left.” She then chides, “I don’t want a mail to pass without getting a letter. I write you every mail and I think my letters are rather longer than yours don’t you say?,” adding, “Everyone laughs and glories in your spunk…If you come home this spring I shall be so happy…How far are you from San Francisco and who is this a company that takes care of your letters? Do explain yourself.”

After signing off as, “Your affectionate wife, Charlotte,” she adds a hefty postscript, “P.S., Mother sends her love to you (and) wants you to come home. Write often don’t forget it. Write all the news about yourself. I shall write again in two weeks. Good Afternoon, Charlotte.”

William’s brother Daniel also writes regularly. He begins a letter, written in 1852, “I received your favor this day and right glad was I to hear from you.” After complimenting William on his “New England ‘go-aheaditiveness’” he opines, “Success go ahead but mind not grab so much that you cannot hold anything.” Daniel wastes no time entreating William as to pity his wife, who he refers to as “a young widow in this frozen north country,” and reminds William that, “Father was called away the 20 of Nov last so you see one after another of the old men are going and may you and I be enabled to fill their places,” and suggests that he might come home to Maine in order to, “…raise up some boys to fill the gaps in Maine that California has made.” He waxes poetical, asking that his brother, “Hold on a minute till I punch the fire and smoke a pipe of tobacco—I have smoked and taken some cider and feel as the boy did after his father whipped him, quite refreshed.” Daniel Kent continues, “If all accounts are true you have got money enough…so come home and live with your wife and not stay there cooped up in a six by nine camp darning your own socks and washing your own shirt or is worse wearing a dirty one and working sixteen hours a day.”

Letters from William to his family are more scarce, with only one letter archived at the Kelley House Museum [in Mendocino]. Opening with, “Dear Wife,” William responds to a number of specific questions she has put to him, and then goes on, “…you wished to know how we live. It is well, we have plenty of fine cakes, mince & apple, & a colored man to cook them.” William ends the letter, “As to the land that I took up it is not on this River, & I left it because I could do better under the present circumstances. Give my respects to brother Wife,” (underlined), “… & all that enquire, yours Truly, W.W. Kent.”

Charlotte arrived in San Francisco in 1857 after her own harrowing voyage. From Saga of Little River, compiled by Nannie Flood Escola and Julia Moungovan, and recorded in Little River Yesteryears, 1853–1965 by Irene
Mallory Macdonald, we get this account: “They took passage from New York…fraught with all the tedious vexations of a sea voyage on the rough Atlantic…they arrived at the isthmus, which they crossed on the second train of cars that ever passed over the road…On this side they embarked on the steamer Golden Age, arriving in San Francisco…They expected, of course, to meet their husbands…communications were not so perfect in those days as now…Just at the time the husbands expected to start to San Francisco to meet their wives, a heavy rainstorm caused all the streams to swell beyond their ordinary flood levels; and they were detained for three weeks, during which time the ladies were doing the best they could under the circumstances…

“When they had parted at their Eastern home, Mr. Kent was dressed as an American citizen, having on a dress suit, white shirt, and all the et ceteras that go to make up the garb of an Eastern gentleman of a quarter of a century ago. But when they met how changed was his appearance! He had on a blue flannel shirt, checked pants, black cravat, and all the other articles of apparel that were usually worn by early Californians.”

The intrepid group spent the night at a hotel in Petaluma frequented by travelers such as themselves, then by carriage to Cloverdale, the cost for which was twenty dollars. From Cloverdale to Mendocino was by “Indian pony,” on the only trail through Anderson Valley to the coast.

It is not clear where the couple lived for the next few years. In 1857 William bought title to the coast property from the Beall brothers, and he began to build the stately home that still sits along Highway 1 in Little River that many current coast residents think of as the Spring Ranch farmhouse. William and Charlotte had two sons, Everett William and Warren Nathaniel, whose own families continued to farm and raise their children on the Kent homestead.

William and Charlotte Kent are credited with planting the first eucalyptus trees on the coast. The large stand still lines Highway 1, just north of Little River, creating a landmark which has been well loved by coastal residents and visitors throughout the years. The Kents were also among the first to begin the practice of planting cypress trees in hedgerows on the coast, pruning them for use as windbreaks.

As an educated man with experience in both mining and logging, William’s privileged upbringing and business acumen served him in good stead, both in his investment and with his farming enterprise. According to the Mendocino Beacon of the time, his was the only dairy farm for more than 120 miles. Eventually he raised beef cattle as well, feeding the lumbering camps as well as the growing town of Mendocino.

According to the U.S. census of 1860, in that year he owned forty-five dairy cows, which produced a thousand pounds of butter, and an additional head of cattle for other purposes. By 1870 he also owned 150 sheep and 18 pigs. Within years of settling on the old Beall property, the 1870 census lists Kent’s occupation as butcher, and he continued to consolidate that business, buying, processing, and selling both beef and mutton to mills and local residents. It is believed that he eventually kept a butchery shop along Main Street in Mendocino, at the bottom of Kasten Street, across from what is now Out of This World [a telescope and science toy shop in Mendocino]. Census reports also show that at this time, the farm was harvesting 200 bushels of potatoes and 400 apple and peach trees that provided 260 bushels of fruit, and was producing 200 tons of hay.

Many colorful reminiscences by Charlotte and William’s granddaughter, Ruth Hood, are on file at the Kelley House Museum [located on Albion Street in Mendocino]. In this account from the Mendocino Beacon of the time, Ruth remembers her childhood:

“…On Sundays, all the young people in the summertime would collect at the beach. We’d play cards or just talk and really enjoy ourselves because the old gray mare was our only form of transportation and you couldn’t go very far. Sometimes we’d go out to the woods and have a picnic or go berrying…Life on the ranch was hard work. I was the oldest girl in the family. I had to do most of the work. I’d get up at 5 o’clock every morning and cook breakfast for a bunch. We had a dairy ranch, so these big milk things had to be washed. You had to rinse them out and lift them. I think one empty weighs ten or fifteen pounds. Boy that was work. You’d wash them and turn them upside down to dry.”

In 1941, the Kents sold their Little River ranch to Hollywood movie stars Harry and Ilona Ueberroth, who used the stage names Alan Curtis and Ilona Massey. The two were well known for such movies as New Wine, Going Fast, and Heliotrope. Although a Mendocino Beacon article about the sale speaks of planned improvements to buildings and to the dairy herd, the couple is believed to have used the house mainly as a retreat. Within three years, in 1944, the ranch was sold to Virgil and Elvira Chiado of Lodi who became friends with Sidney and Clora Spring, a local Mendocino farming couple. According to Sid’s daughter-in-law Gypsy Spring, Sid used to help Virgil with his sheep. Virgil’s wife Elvira was a paraplegic, and her husband sold the property cheaply to the Springs with the understanding that they would care for Elvira until she died. They took care of her for over twenty years. Sid Spring was one of the first professional sheep shearers on the coast, and would travel from farm to farm on shearing jobs. Sid and Clora had four children: Alan, Carol, Dale, and Glen. The four children, including Alan’s wife Beth and Glen’s wife Gypsy, lived and worked on the ranch.

The Springs ran a self-sufficient operation on the Kent homestead for three decades, keeping up to two hundred sheep, and selling the wool to a carpet cooperative, as well as selling sheep for sale. Alan is an avid recycler and ace mechanic, and kept many of the old farm implements in use. They also kept sows for sale, and a small number of milk cows. They raised sugar beets as feed for the pigs, and hay for sale and as livestock feed. As populations in the area grew and changed, eventually the decision was made by the Springs to cease the raising of animals because of constant problems with predation by packs of domestic dogs, despite their many efforts to protect their sheep, including sleeping out in the fields with them. They always maintained a large produce garden, kept chickens, quail, and pigeons. Sid kept bees in numerous other properties along the coast, as well.

In 1996, Sid sold a large chunk of the property to the west of the highway to Bob Raymond, who later sold it to California State Parks. In his later years, Sid and his former wife Clora sold the rest of the oceanside acreage to the California Coastal Conservancy, which was placed in a trust for State Parks. Sid’s daughter, Carol Spring Witte, inherited the old farmhouse, and sold it to Derek Webb, who is making much needed improvements while renting the house out as a vacation rental.

All of Sid’s beloved sheep are now gone, but Gypsy and Glen Spring, and Beth and Alan Spring, still live and work on the forty-acre parcel in back of the “Big House.” The Spring family still continues the farming tradition, with Gypsy and Glen focusing on high-quality garlic and strawberries, with Beth and Alan growing their delightful homegrown lettuce for lucky coast residents as well as a variety of other produce available at area farmers markets. Meanwhile, travelers going north along the Coast Highway continue to enjoy the whimsical scarecrow, made of welded shovel heads, that welcomes them to the Mendocino Coast, and the sweeping headlands to the west that will be accessible to visitors and locals for many more decades to come.

What is that white building with the sign that says Little River Improvement Club, the one with the red geranium in the window? Is it a private club? Who belongs to it?

“I’ve been asked those questions again and again,” says Elma Bryant, the 95-year-old president of the board of directors that owns and stewards Little River’s community center. “Improvement Club is the name they gave community centers and service organizations in the 1880s when that building was built, it’s the name of a non-profit organization and the building,” she states firmly, and a story begins to unfold.

It starts in Maine in 1864. Lincoln was president, and the Civil War was ending. Isaiah Stevens, a widower, married Rebecca Coombs, and they left for California with three of Isaiah’s six children: Etta Emily, Rebecca and Rachel. Etta’s diary recounts the trip.

“June 4, 1864: Father and Rachel went to Windham, Maine to see his aged mother. June 20: Oh, how hard it is to leave our dear home, friends and loved ones for Cal and strangers. We boarded the Eastern Queen steamer, went out the Kennebec River into Atlantic Ocean and up to Boston last night. July 2: We had a pleasant time going across the Isthmus of Panama. Came on board the steamer Constitution. July 18: Entered the Golden Gate and got into San Francisco. July 20: Took the stage … stopped for (lunch) at Healdsburg and arrived at Cloverdale at 6 o’clock. July 22: Traveled in express wagon and part in a covered stage, us young folks had to walk up most hills. July 23: Got to Little River at 9 a.m.”

The diaries go on to tell how the family thrived in Little River; the daughters married, the community grew, and in 1885 Isaiah donated a part of his farm to build a town hall. He gave the land to the Independent Order of Good Templars to oversee and maintain. The Little River mill donated the lumber: old growth redwood exterior planks two inches thick and massive beams to frame the building. The men of the community gathered and built the hall, the women brought them lunch.

Etta and Rachel’s diaries tell of parties, funerals, fiddle music and dancing, women’s club and fraternal organization meetings, an annual Christmas bazaar to raise money for improvements and needy families, and the bell in its tower that rang in the new year.

“An earthquake shook the building completely off its foundation, but it was so solid, it suffered no other damage. The men just jacked it up and put new supports under it,” says president Elma, “but that was way before my time.”

The Independent Order of Good Templars was the town’s fraternal organization, and the women formed Little River’s only other service organization: the Little River Improvement Club. In 1914 Etta’s diary notes: “November, 1914: Voting at Hall for a dry county. The local Good Templars, having accomplished their goals, disbanded, and maintenance and management of the hall fell to the women of the town’s Improvement Club.”

The community continued to use the building. It housed the first telephone switchboard. The women opened a library in the hall, had community Christmas events, voting, meetings and parties. The Improvement Club got the community together to maintain the cemetery. When the Little River School burned, the students were moved into the Improvement Club Hall until a new school was built. The postmistress ran a hose from her house to the building so it would have water. Electricity came, cars happened, Highway 1 was widened, and the men of Little River met at the hall to set up sentries to guard the coast during World War I and II. The women met to knit bandages and socks for soldiers and had fund-raising events to support the Red Cross.

“May 23, 1918: I made more cookies for Red Cross party tonight although too lame and miserable (from shingles) to go to the Hall. Sunday, May 23, 1920: Telephone meeting at Hall. Mr. Mallory, Sr. elected president.”

Progress happened, the town aged. The Little River mills and businesses burned, were rebuilt, and finally closed as the timber resource was used up and the local industry evolved into a larger, centralized mill in Fort Bragg. The women of the Improvement Club continued to meet at the hall and organize community improvement projects, a new roof for the building, signage for Little River, and support for community families.

In the 50s the board of directors of the Improvement Club officially bought the building by paying back taxes and became a non-profit whose goal it is to maintain and preserve the building and to improve the community of Little River. In the 70s Warren Zimmer used it as an art gallery and offered classes in the hall. But as the building got older it became more and more expensive to maintain and donated labor and materials became scarce. It lacked water and sanitary facilities, and the kitchen’s wood cook stove was uniquely unattractive for parties and events. The county stopped using it as a polling place in the 1990s, and as the world moved into a new century, the proud old building stood cold, damp and closed.

New businesses and new people came to the coast. Isaiah Steven’s original home became a bed and breakfast, and owners Higgins and Sharon Williams generously painted the Improvement Club building, kept the windows washed, and donated an easement to provide water.

“It’s a beautiful old building,” notes Sharon, “it’s a part of our history and it deserves a little attention.”

Today the Little River Improvement Club building is the last structure in Little River with its full historic integrity intact, but it needs a new foundation in order to return to public use.

New members have joined the Improvement Club board and provided the support needed to launch the community on a program to put in a new foundation, spruce up the interior, and reopen the building. They envision a small museum area to house Etta and Rachel’s diaries, along with furniture, papers and materials that comprise Little River’s history, with a kitchen and space for gatherings.

Two rummage sales and a small grant have launched the restoration fund. We have 15 percent toward the goal of a new foundation. The Little River Improvement Club invites the community and interested persons to receive our newsletter and join us in our efforts to save Little River’s historic community center. Please contact us at 937-2545 or email us at LRIC@mcn.org.

By Ronnie James, vice president, Little River Improvement Club

For an idyllic retreat on Northern California’s Mendocino Coast, Stevenswood Spa Resort rates accolades. Contemporary and secluded, this tranquil inn offers a gracious respite from the daily whirl. Nestled in a forest by the sea, the intimate lodge echoes the natural beauty of its rural setting in the tony town of Little River, just 2 minutes South of the Village of Mendocino, {link to 5th paragraph below}, on Cape Mendocino, California. At the resort, guests are pampered with comfort, privacy, and peace, and indulged in gracious service and superlative cuisine, which stands out anywhere but especially in such a natural and rural environment as Little River.

Read the rest of the article. http://www.stevenswood.com/history.html#st

NO ONE REMEMBERS actually seeing any plans for the condominiums that Boise Cascade was going to build on the Mendocino headlands. No one had to see them. Just the thought of some developer ravaging this unspoiled coastal village was enough to stir the tiny art colony into action. It all started in October, 1968, when the big multinational forest products corporation from Idaho announced plans to buy the local Union Lumber Company and all its historic land holdings. But the real story began more than a hundred years ago.

The Union Lumber Company had acquired large tracts of land on the Mendocino Coast dating back to 1852, when Jerome Ford arrived to set up a sawmill at the mouth of Big River. Only a few years earlier, white men first made contact with the peaceful Pomo Indians, the master basket-weavers who camped near the abundant estuary. Just 120 miles to the south, the booming gold rush town of San Francisco was becoming a city and was hungry for lumber. So the giant old growth redwoods were felled and cut into massive chunks by the power of human muscle alone, dragged across the steep ridges by teams of oxen, and then floated down Big River to be ripped by the big steel saws. The finished boards were hauled up to the ocean bluffs and loaded by cables to schooners anchored in Mendocino Bay. There were no roads in those days, so everything came and went by sailing ship.

The village of Mendocino grew, and the lumbermen built tall water towers, wooden store buildings and graceful Victorian homes. The Mendocino mill prospered through the late 1800s and early 1900s, when nearly every cove and inlet on the rugged Mendocino Coast had a sawmill. But the small mills were gradually replaced by the big factory mills like the one (previously) run by Georgia Pacific in Fort Bragg, and the long lines and dog hole schooners soon gave way to steam locomotives and fast logging trucks. Fire finally destroyed the Mendocino sawmill in 1945, and no one bothered to rebuild it.

The charming village and its dramatic setting began attracting tourists as early as the 1920s, when brave travelers drove their funny automobiles through the dark redwoods to the foggy coast. Some say that Mendocino remained a well-kept secret until 1958 when Bill Zacha, founder of the Mendocino Art Center, inspired the cultural and economic renaissance which continues to this day.

Actually, Mendocino has been rediscovered and shaped by successive waves of social change, like the ancient wave-cut terraces which form the coastal topography. The beatniks and artists and movie-makers came in the 1950s, the hippies and flower children moved to local communes in the 1960s, the urban drop-outs came during the back-to-the-land movement of the 1970s, and the bed-and-breakfast innkeepers settled in during the 1980s.

Artist and activist Emmy Lou Packard, now living in the San Francisco Bay Area, is honored by a bronze plaque on the Mendocino headlands which credits her vision and perseverance for the creation of the state park. “Emmy Lou Packard started it all,” remembers Mildred Benioff. “Emmy Lou was magnificent, she knew everyone and who to write. That whole first year she had a group of people who worked at her home and sent out letters and petitions.”

Emmy Lou’s appeals to make the Mendocino headlands a state park and fight the condominiums went far and wide, eventually receiving national publicity. C. Malcolm Watkins, Chairman of the Department of Civil History for the Smithsonian Institution, wrote in December, 1968 “I do not think it is an overstatement that it appears just as important for California to have Mendocino preserved and guarded against encroachments as it was for Virginia to have Williamsburg restored and protected.” The story made headlines in the Bay Area newspapers, and was the subject of a leading editorial in the San Francisco Chronicle in January, 1969. Both KGO and KQED television covered the Mendocino headlands story, and the Sacramento Bee published a feature article.

Emmy Lou and her artist husband Byron Randall came to Mendocino in 1959 during the early art colony days, and opened the Randall-Packard Gallery. They lived in the old house across the street from the Presbyterian Church, which is now the Mendocino Village Inn. She built a studio out back, now the 955 Ukiah Street Restaurant, where she met with her fellow conspirators. Local residents remember her as a talented artist who worked with the famous Mexican muralist Diego Rivera. They say she was an extreme liberal (if such a thing is possible by local standards), and some even referred to her as a communist. One night some high school kids painted her front gate red, but the young vigilantes were apprehended and had to repaint it. It was a small town and everyone knew who did it.

Mildred Benioff met Emmy Lou at the post office in late 1968, and Emmy Lou admitted that she was great at getting projects started, but just didn’t have the time to carry it through. She asked Mildred if she would take over. Mildred was married to the late Dr. Hugo Benioff, a world renowned scientist and professor of seismology at Cal Tech, who had died earlier that year. She accepted the challenge, and began serving as head of the Mendocino Headlands Park Committee, appointed by State Parks Director William Penn Mott, Jr.

The committee included a host of talented community leaders who were determined to preserve the historic village. Among them were Lauren Dennen (owner of the famous Heritage House inn), John Tritenbach (pastor of the Presbyterian Church), Mr. and Mrs. Bill Grader (owners of the Noyo Harbor fish company), artist Dorr Bothwell, retired Madison Avenue adman Hanley Norins, Berkeley professor Frank Pitelka, eminent soil scientist Dr. Hans Jenny, and many others.

Not everyone was in favor of the park idea. Basil Heathcote, the Big River Judicial Court judge, was a vocal park opponent who had a strong local following. He and his fellow protestors also opposed the incorporation movement which was going on at the same time. The local opposition was angered by State Parks acting like Big Brother, telling them what to do with their town. If there was a demand for more commercial establishments, lodging, and vacation homes, they argued, then they should damn well be built. And they certainly weren’t going to pay more taxes. Although Mendocino was finally forced to build a sewer treatment plant and stop dumping its raw sewage into the ocean, there is still a strong local sentiment against incorporation (more taxes) and the construction of a community water system (more tourists).

Mildred remembers attending a County Supervisor’s meeting to plead her case for the Headlands State Park. It was the fourth time she’d made the hour and a half drive to Ukiah. “He [Basil] did all the talking and I was trying to get my turn, and one of the supervisors, who was a woman, said ‘Judge Heathcote, now its time we let the park lady speak’.” Mildred was known as The Park Lady from that moment on. Mildred later became an influential voice for conservation while serving on both the Regional and State Coastal Commissions. California voters, concerned about the need to protect their thousand mile coastline, passed the landmark California Coastal Initiative (Proposition 20) in 1972. But it didn’t pass in Mendocino County.

Mildred wrote to her friend Rudd Brown, then head of the State Department of Recreation, who first suggested the idea of a land swap. The State had no money to buy park land and no one knew how to raise that kind of money locally, so the committee began a long series of negotiations with Boise Cascade.

The concept for a Mendocino Historical Preservation District was born in 1970, with the publication of the “Mendocino Headland and Big River Beach Feasibility Study.” The study supported the Headlands State Park idea but said it was “totally dependent upon establishing the community as a ‘historic district’.” Bill Mott and the State Parks people were not going to accept the headlands property if Mendocino was allowed to become some tacky commercial strip. They proposed buying and leasing back all the buildings on Main Street, restricting vehicle access, and even restoring the old sawmill.

But nobody in Mendocino wanted a fake town either, like Columbia State Historic Park north of Sonora, where the shopkeepers dress up like people from the gold rush days. The park committee searched for a historic preservation district ordinance to fit their needs, but found nothing they could adopt. In typical Mendocino fashion, the resourceful townspeople hammered out their own ordinance which, as expected, pleased no one. It was adopted anyway by a kind of negative consensus, and continues to protect the historic village twenty years later. The “Hysterical Review Board” holds regular meetings to pass judgement on local projects, and continues to refine and rewrite the ordinance.

“When I first came here [in 1973] it was a real sore subject,” recalls State Forester Forest Tilley (his real name), who manages the 50,000 acre Jackson Demonstration State Forest. Boise Cascade was willing to trade for the Mendocino headlands, but they wanted prime State Forest land within the Hare Creek watershed. They proposed trading their 77 acres on the Mendocino headlands, plus an assortment of 1,632 acres ranging from Ten Mile beach to Leggett. The Sierra Club opposed the trade, and local conservationists felt that Boise Cascade should only get one-time logging rights. After all, it was a demonstration forest and was supposed to be logged, not given away.

The deal finally went down in February, 1972. The trade was based on land value rather than total acreage, with Fort Bragg appraiser Robert MacDougall Jr. making the final determinations of value. Boise Cascade got 977 acres of forested land in Jackson State Forest, then valued at $900,000. The triangular piece of property was located between Fort Bragg and Willits, about a mile south of Highway 20 near North Fork Camp, with an estimated 20 million board feet of redwood, Douglas fir and grand fir.

The State Parks Department in turn got 659 acres from Boise Cascade, including the prized 71 acres of Mendocino headlands south of Main Street along with Big River Beach (valued at $425,000), 573 acres and four miles of ocean frontage between MacKerricher State Park and Ten Mile River (valued at $400,000), and 15 acres at Pudding Creek Beach (valued at $75,000).

Today, Mendocino Headlands State Park totals 374 acres, if you count the 27 acre fishing access west of Heeser Drive that Mendocino pioneer and former newspaper editor Augie Heeser sold to the State in 1960. Al Nichols (Augie’s second cousin and heir) sold the 57 acre field east of Heeser Drive to the State in 1973. Since then, the State has quietly purchased over a hundred acres east of Highway One south of Big River for future park expansion. The plan for Mendocino Headlands State Park, published in 1977, calls for the eventual acquisition of over 500 acres. Plans include the acquisition of some Georgia Pacific lands east of the Big River Bridge, the construction of restrooms and parking facilities at Big River Beach, and even a youth hostel near Highway One.

Mendocino Park District Supervisor Dave Bartlett wears a tooled black leather belt equipped with handcuffs, mace, and a wood-handled revolver, looking more like a cop than a conservationist. According to Dave, the State Parks Department only purchases land from willing sellers, even though they have the power of eminent domain. But there is no more money for park expansion or improvement. The State Parks budget has been slashed due to the current recession-fueled state economic crisis, and Dave and his dwindling staff are increasingly forced into law enforcement roles instead of ranger walks and campfire talks.

Today, there is little to remind us of the coarse and rowdy logging town that Mendocino must have been a hundred years ago. The carefully restored and repainted wooden buildings sparkle in the sun, now filled with delightful but touristy bookstores, candy shops and ice cream parlors, instead of sleazy brothels and saloons. There isn’t a phone pole or power line in site, and the nearest Taco Bell is in Fort Bragg, a real working lumber town eight miles to the north. And, thanks to people like Emmy Lou and Mildred and a handful of local activists, there will probably never be condos on the Mendocino headlands.

Mendocino remains an island in time, where visitors come to lose themselves in the vast expanse of earth and sea and sky. The historic village is embraced on three sides by grassy coastal headlands, where the steep rocky bluffs are pounded by the powerful ocean below. The immense blue Pacific disappears beyond the curvature of the earth, where grey whales have been making their annual migrations ever since the ice age. To the east, green forested ridges march on forever. To the south, Big River carves a large sand sculpture in Mendocino Bay which moves in infinite patterns with the tides and the seasons. Giant pieces of driftwood, like the ancient bones of dinosaurs, lie bleaching in the sun on tiny Portuguese Beach, while the cormorants nest undisturbed on Goat Island as they’ve always done. A foghorn moans just outside the bay, and the Point Cabrillo lighthouse winks off in the distance. On a clear day you can see Cape Mendocino 70 miles to the north, the most westerly point of land in the continental United States.

 by Chet Boddy