|
Yurok village, ranch, hostel: Scenic coast a place of change
The “Hey Ranger” column written by employees of the Redwood National and State Parks is published monthly. Today’s column is by Park Ranger James Wheeler.
As the son of a U.S. Air Force fighter pilot, change was nothing new to me because my family moved around quite a bit.
Wherever we lived, I obsessively learned as much as possible about the area’s natural and cultural history. That didn’t change when I settled in California’s North Coast, where I’ve lived and worked since 1983.
I’m endlessly fascinated by how people adapt to and are influenced by their environment. As an American of mixed heritage — my ancestors were natives of Europe, Africa, and North America — the meeting of, and interactions among, different human cultures throughout history also intrigues me.
While the natural beauty of Del Norte County is undeniable, the
area’s human stories interest me most. For all these reasons, I think
False Klamath Cove is particularly special. This easily accessible
section of coastline may be the most stunning in all of Redwood National
and State Parks, but it’s also rich in human history. Above all, it is a
place of change.
 “Old John and Jennie” lived in the Yurok village and later did domestic work for the DeMartin family after it started ranching near Wilson Creek. Submitted Just south of Crescent City on U.S. 101, between the mouths
of Wilson and Lagoon creeks, you encounter large sea stacks and bird
colonies, wave-swept beaches strewn with driftwood, tide pools, and
steep cliffs that plunge into the sea.
Since time immemorial, False Klamath Cove has marked the meeting
place of Yurok and Tolowa ancestral territories. Near Wilson Creek is
the Yurok village site of O men hee-pur, while south near Lagoon Creek
is O men proper. The Tolowa of the Crescent City and Smith River area
also claim ancestral ties to these village sites and call them
Daa-gheslh-ts’a’. The people who lived in these villages were bilingual,
though they tended to speak Yurok among themselves due to their
proximity to the mouth of the Klamath River.
The last traditional headman of the Yurok village Rek’ woy (modern
Requa) was Captain Spott, born in 1844 of mixed Yurok and Tolowa
heritage at O men hee-pur. His adopted son, Robert Spott, referred to
the False Klamath Cove area as Otegoreyet (“Where the division comes”)
because here both law and language changed.
The arrival of people of European descent in the early 1800s signaled
momentous changes. From June 8 to 11, 1828, American explorer/mountain
man Jedediah Smith camped at Wilson Creek with his party of fur trappers
and over 250 pack animals.
 Captain Spott, the last traditional headman of the Yurok village Rek’ woy. Submitted His men, mostly sick at the time, were starving for lack of
meat and spent the days hunting, resting, and drying out their packs of
furs. Until they shot a few elk, they traded with nearby Yurok people
for mussels, seaweed, and whale blubber, which Smith described in his
journal as “not bad tasted but dear as gold dust.” Smith’s visit was
brief, with minimal impact to native people, though trappers who
followed in the next decade passed diseases that would decimate local
tribes.
Both the Tolowa and Yurok managed the landscape to maintain
productive tracts of open land using low-intensity fires. This practice
created large prairies that attracted European and American settlers
during the Gold Rush, initiating a period of violent and devastating
upheaval for native people. By the 1870s, settlers more peaceably
inclined toward the native people began moving into the area.
In 1877, Swiss-American Louis Peter DeMartin and his family
homesteaded a large area of coastal prairies and some forested lands
from south of Damnation Creek to Hidden Beach, south of False Klamath
Cove. The DeMartins originally tried ranching sheep, but bears and
mountain lions took many animals so they diversified the ranching
operation, and even used their home as a hostelry for travelers on the
Coastal Trail, charging 25 cents a room.
Before completion of the wagon road to Crescent City in 1894, Louis
and other settlers on the Klamath River contracted with Captain Spott to
transport their produce from the mouth of the Klamath River to Wilson
Creek, and then on to Crescent City and back, as many as five times a
summer from 1877 until 1894. In his large oceangoing “cargo” canoe,
Captain Spott and his crew of six paddlers received $75 in American
money for this service.
 copy.jpg) The DeMartin ranch in the late-1940s. Submitted Louis and Agnes DeMartin had nine children while living at
False Klamath Cove. Louis died in 1907 and the house that still stands
(despite significant rehabilitation) at the mouth of Wilson Creek today
was built by his sons in 1908. Agnes lived there for the rest of her
life with her children and an Indian couple, Old John and his wife
Jennie, who lived on the property and did domestic chores.
In 1944, the bulk of the ranch was sold to Miriam Kelly Rudisill.
Miriam and her husband Henry continued the ranching operation while
using their large house as a bed and breakfast, continuing the tradition
of housing travelers. Then, when Redwood National Park was created in
1968, most of the original DeMartin ranch was incorporated within the
park’s boundaries.
In 1987, the National Park Service contracted with the non-profit
Hostelling International USA to provide affordable accommodations to
park visitors. But the geology of this area is also changing and the
land underneath the hostel constantly shifts and sinks, finally forcing
it closed in January 2010 due to insurmountable restoration costs.
While the fate of the building remains undecided, the closure
continues to disappoint many visitors and locals alike for whom this
much-loved structure still maintains iconic status. But change, as
history tells us, is nothing new in this place.
 The Demartin family poses for a photo circa-1901. Submitted For me, understanding the history of a place gives it
meaning — meaning in context, because what happens today will be
tomorrow’s history. And so, a visit to False Klamath Cove becomes not
just an opportunity to explore beaches and tide pools, but a chance to
respect and be a part of a larger, unfolding human story.
The DeMartin house at Wilson Creek no longer stands as a sentimental
reminder of a chapter now closed. Instead, its continued presence
reminds us that this area of rich history and incomparable beauty —
whether called O men, Daa-geslh-ts’a’, DeMartin Ranch, or False Klamath
Cove — is very much a culturally-shared landscape where change will come
again.
|