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Published Quarterly by the
Pacific County Historical Society
State of Washington
SUMMER
1998
Volume XXXIII
Number 2
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SINCE 1966
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Sou'W~teCi
A Quarterly Publication of Pacific County Historical Society and Museum
A Non-Profit Organization
Annual membership fees (includes membership and Sou'wester subscription)
$20.00 single
$25.00 family
$50.00 corporate
$50.00 contributing
$100.00 benefactor
Address : P.O . Box P, South Bend, WA 98586
Pacific County Historical Society welcomes articles relating to Pacific County . Materials
accepted for publication may be edited . Entire contents ®1998 by Pacific County Historical Society. All rights reserved . Second class postage paid at South Bend, Washington .
PUB. No . ISSN-0038-4984
Ruth McCausland and Joan Mann, Co-Editors
Printed by Midway Printery, Long Beach, Washington
Our Cover
Raymond and Virginia Nelson, parents of Vicki Nelson Larson, on their wedding day, June
19,1937 . (See Tokeland Golf Links, by Vicki Larson, page 10) .
PCHS 1998.8.6, courtesy of the Nelson Family
Table of Contents
Page
Title
Tokeland - My Youth and First Golf by Victor A . Vaughn
The Tokeland Golf Links by Vicki Nelson Larson
3
10
Rediscovery of Tokeland Golf Links by Barb Aue,
South Beach Bulletin, August 11, 1995
14
I
Tombstones in the Tavern and Other Tokeland Tales by John Doe (Vernon Shipman) . . . . 18
The Baleville Telephone Association by Arne Salonen 20
A Remembrance of Oysterville by Ann Anderson 21
2
Tokeland - My Youth and First Golf
by Victor A. Vaughn
Editor's Note: Victor Vaughn was born in South Bend in 1912 and lived in Raymond
until he left to work in Washington, D.C., in 1939. He began caddying at 14, and at 85
still plays golf a couple of times a week. He now lives in Falls Church, Virginia
Back in the early 1920s when I was about 10 or 12 years old, Spanish American
War veterans (including my own father) from the Raymond, South Bend and Aberdeen areas would gather each summer for a picnic at Tokeland . It was always a
family outing. The entire family would travel down on the ferryboat that carried
passengers, freight and mail between South Bend and Tokeland. It was an hour-long
trip and the veterans from Aberdeen and Hoquiam would motor down a roadway to
Tokeland which was also an hour by car.
The main dish at the picnic was always the same -"Mulligan" stew- made from
fresh vegetables and voluminous amounts of beef cooked in a huge iron kettle over
an open wood fire - a carryover from the Spanish American War encampment days .
And the picnic was always staged in the open area behind the Tokeland country
store, which still stands, and the Kindred
Bay off in the distance . I remember the
store well as it was always a child's first
stop where the few pennies and nickels I'd
saved were spent on candy
As youngsters we were always looking
for excitement or anything unusual . So we
were impressed by the sight of men in the
wide open grassy area, between the country store and Kindred Bay, using sticks to
strike a small white ball that flew great distances This both intrigued and amused us .
The only game we knew with a ball was
baseball or the hockey we'd played. with
crude sticks and tin cans .
Our curiosity got the better of us and Victor A. Vaughn, March 6,1959.
-courtesy Victor Vaughn
soon the group of boys ran after one of the
balls we saw sailing past and we retrieved it, throwing it back to the owner. We
were, of course, severely chastised by the player, and reprimanded "never to touch
those golf balls again"
A few years later at about 14, I got my first real knowledge of golf as a caddy at
the Willapa Harbor Golf Club which opened in Raymond in 1926 . My brother Bill
and I caddied at Willapa Harbor until 1931 or 1932 . In those days all the caddies
acquired a few old wooden shafted golf clubs which club members discarded in
favor of the newly developed and more powerful steel shafted clubs .
With our old wooden clubs, we used the open farm field adjacent to the club to
3
Tokeland, Washington showing old golf links.
courtesy Barb Aue, South Beach Bulletin
learn how to strike golf balls we'd "fished" out of the South Fork of the Willapa
River. The river wound through the golf course as a principal hazard ; and it was
amazing how well a caddy could retrieve errant balls from the water, when the
members weren't around . And, we developed our short game too . Near the pro
shop, while waiting for caddying jobs, we chipped and putted for pennies at makeshift golf holes we built ourselves .
Initially caddies were not allowed to play golf at Willapa Harbor ; but in 1928 the
rules were relaxed and caddies were permitted to play on Saturdays until noon . So
it was that I was desperate to test my skills on a real golf course . And my first actual
playing experience was on the Tokeland Links .
Often in the summer between 1926 and 1930, I would visit a friend whose family
kept a cottage at Tokeland . And since Tokeland was a public course, we would slip
out to the Links and play several holes. Often I would see golfers from Raymond
and South Bend playing at Tokeland . I was particularly impressed to see Walter
Fovarque on the Tokeland course . Fovargue was the outstanding golfer in the Pacific Northwest at the time . A past professional, he was a nationally known athlete
who settled in the Northwest and designed the Willapa Harbor course among many
others . I was always a caddy in Fovargue's foursome when he played at Willapa ;
and like all the caddies, I tried to emulate his beautiful swing .
How Tokeland and Golf Grew Together
The Tokeland Golf Links actually play a significant part in the early history of
golf in America - not that Tokeland - was some significantly new development in
4
golf, but Tokeland started out at the turn of the century as a "cow pasture" type
course in the meadowlands where the Kindred Bay receded and left a natural golfing environment .
Conditions at Tokeland were similar to the first and much treasured golf links
played along the Scottish seacoast early in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries . The
game was first played by shepherds pasturing sheep in the areas among the sand
dunes where grass was closely cropped by the herds . And, by 1450, Scots were
playing an organized game called "golfe". Holes were placed in areas of the finest
turf (corresponding to modern `greens') and the dunes were the equivalent of modern day sand traps . The uncropped grass along the fairways, and sand and water
were natural hazards to be avoided by the skilled player.
These exact conditions of sandy soil yielding rich bent grass turf exist in precious few places around the world . So scarce are natural linkslands that until the
middle of the nineteenth century golf existed almost exclusively on the Scottish
The last remaining identifiable artifact from the Tokeland Golf Links, a wooden and leather
bag believed to have been constructed sometime in the 1920s .
-courtesy victor vaughn
coastal courses. Tokeland, however, had all the necessary and rare elements of a
natural Scottish golf links including similar temperature, rainfall, grasses and even
favorable winds and tides .
And so natural golf was played at Tokeland starting as far back as 1900 with a
more formally designed golf course well established by 1920 .
How Old is Golf at Tokeland?
Golf at Tokeland could have and in all likelihood did start informally about
1900-1910 as "cowpasture" golf in the open meadowlands .
Tokeland was at least ripe for it . The Tokeland Hotel was well established and
famous for its food. On the Kindred farm they raised their own beef and poultry and
the local Indians supplied the hotel with razor clams and prime crab . The Kindreds
5
were well established in the native oyster business . One old gentlemen said, "The
food was served family style . I had never seen such an array of delectable food
before and don't know that I have since ."
Tokeland was a wonderful place for both children and adults to vacation . In the
early days (before the storms of the 1930s) the beach was ideal . At low tide, the
exposed sandy flats extended out for a half-mile beyond the high water mark . When
the warm summer sun and the incoming tide washed over the beach, the water was
a welcome, warm temperature for swimming .
As one old timer recollected, `Tokeland was not merely locally famous . People
came from as far away as Boise, southern California, eastern and northern Washington, and Portland as regular guests:'
Between 1900 and 1930, the Kindreds formed a riding club, and built stables and
walking and bridal paths. A gun club was established near Kindred Island in the
slough area . Summer cottages sprang up built mainly by people from nearby Aberdeen, Hoquiam, Raymond and South Bend as well as some from other sections of
the Pacific Northwest . So, the elite and sports-minded had arrived at this natural
destination.
Indeed, as early as 1910 a group of businessmen (from Portland or South Bend)
had purchased a large tract of land on Toke's Point with the idea of promoting a
Western Washington "Coney Island" . This group actually started but went bust before the project got off the ground . An overly ambitious idea, the local residents
were unsympathetic to the idea and clientele it might attract in its heyday, particularly from 1910 through the 1920s .
The Kindreds enlarged their hotel and renovated the interior . Mrs . Elizabeth Kindred, the mother, operated the general store and was Tokeland's Postmistress in
addition to running a horse-drawn "tally-ho" down to the dock to meet guests and
take the freight. The ferry boats Reliable and Shamrock made morning and evening
runs between Tokeland to South Bend . Mrs . Kindred's daughter, Maude, took over
the management of all the family business operations about 1915 . Maude too was
ambitious and enterprising, further expanding the hotel and, by 1920, significantly
expanding the golf links .
Golf was a natural development for Tokeland . Not only were the grounds ideal
for links-style golf, but a ready-made clientele of merchants, bankers, lumber barons and professional people who had the leisure time to play formed the basis of a
regular summer colony . These were affluent people who loved the outdoors and
sporting pastimes . And they brought with them the latest development in sporting
activity - golf.
By the mid-1890s golf was actively played throughout the Northwest coast particularly in Vancouver, Victoria, and rapidly spreading to the smaller cities and
resorts by 1910 . When affluent vacationers came to Tokeland, many brought golf
clubs and balls and initiated "cow pasture" golf at least as early as 1910 when
reference is made to golf playing near the hotel . Since natural conditions were so
made for the sport in the grassy open fields between the hotel and the bay, all the
players need do was establish a teeing area and mow the grass short for a green .
6
With a cup and a flag stick, crude cowpasture golf was underway.
1920 - Active Golf at Tokeland
It is known that Maude Kindred built a formal golf course in the 1920s . There is
no architectural drawing of the early golf links and no known record of a designer
or builder. However, nine holes were well established and designed with tees, greens
and hazards by a person knowledgeable in golf.
The most likely person to have formally designed and constructed the course
was Walter Fovargue. As a nationally known golfer, he was also a practicing golf
architect and designer who maintained a cottage across from the Tokeland Hotel.
He actively played at Tokeland between 1918 and 1930 and maintained a close
friendship with Maude Kindred . She was undoubtedly influenced by Fovargue to
redesign the course into a more formal layout during the 1920s. At first the hotel
served as the clubhouse, but shortly thereafter a building was moved in adjacent to
the hotel to serve as a golf Club house.
A nationally ranked player, Fovargue was born in 1882 in Cleveland. He caddied
as a young boy in Cleveland for no less than John D . Rockefeller. An accomplished
player at a young age, Fovargue turned professional playing in 11 U.S. Open tournaments during his long career as the professional at the Skokie Country Club outside Chicago from 1907 to 1916 During his professional days, he met and was
tutored by the internationally renowned golf architect Donald Ross.
In 1916 Fovargue left Skokie and gave up his professional status to move westward and embark on a new career in golf architecture. During 1917 he constructed
both the Lakeside Golf and Country Club and Wawona Hotel course in California .
And he regained his amateur status while remodeling other California golf venues .
Late in 1917 Fovargue entered and won the Pacifica Northwest Open Championship and, before the year was out, relocated to Aberdeen at the urging of W. J. Billy
Patterson. Patterson, an Aberdeen businessman/banker was also president of the
Northwest Golf Association and sensed that Walter Fovargue and the growth of
Northwest Golf were a perfect match . Patterson's intuition was right. Andy Fovargue,
now looking at middle age, did his best golf course design work in the Northwest at
places like Gray's Harbor and Willapa Harbor. Fovargue even blazed the international golf frontier doing the first design work on courses in Japan . But closer to
home, he undoubtedly brought his design experience to work on the Tokeland Links .
Through his vacationing at Tokeland and his close personal association with Maude
Kindred, Fovargue was the most likely designer to bring Tokeland out of its crude
cowpasture design to the formal resort destination links appearing in 1920s photos .
Tokeland Links Lost and Rediscovered
Between 1930 and 1934, the town and resort area of Tokeland suffered vast damage from which they never recovered . Successive tornados and vast ocean storms
destroyed a large area on the ocean side of the peninsula. The Tokeland Links,
however, were located on the bayside of the town. While the town was largely
7
Tokeland Golf Links .
-courtesy Betty Aue, South Beach Bulletin
swept away, the sheltered links suffered the least damage . But what nature spared
never survived the onslaught of The Great Depression .
Tokeland soon became a forgotten town and the links a forsaken golf course .
Once lush fairways and greens soon returned to pastureland for cattle . Maude
Kindred's mother passed away in 1931 and by the end of the decade the Kindreds
sold the property to the owners of the Nelson Crab and Oyster Company .
8
Steve Nelson (left) listens as former Tokeland Links golfer Victor "Chub" Vaughn reminisces about his days playing the resort course in the late 1920s .
-courtesy Barb Aue, South Beach Bulletin
The Nelson acreage has been passed down to Ray and Virginia Nelsons' son and
daughter, Steve Nelson and Vicki Larson . Both the Nelson and Larson families
have built homes on the Nelson Ranch overlooking Kindred Bay .
Sixty years later, history began to repeat itself when, after building their new
home, Steve and Kathy Nelson decided they would enlarge their lawn on the view
side . Steve began to mow the two foot tall pasture grass between his house and the
water's edge but almost immediately ran into problems with the terrain . His tractor
kept hanging up on raised mounds in the pasture, so he began mowing around the
mounds . Standing back to study a large section that had been mowed and its accompanying oblique mounds, Nelson's curiosity was aroused . He mowed further
and further to the south towards the old clubhouse and hotel, discovering more
mounds, finally coming to the conclusion that they were, in fact, the old greens
from the turn-of-the-century Tokeland Golf Links .
Then, it was just a matter of exploration to identify practically all the nine holes .
To date, the links have been surveyed and reestablished with the greens restored,
9
fairways mowed and golfers once again actively playing at Tokeland .
During a 1995 vacation back in my old stomping grounds of Raymond, South Bend
and Tokeland, I learned the Nelson family had rediscovered the old Tokeland Links .
They had begun restoration but had little first-hand knowledge of the links or
how they were built up over the years . There was no existing information and no
living golfers who had played the early links could be found. A few old timers knew
there had been a golf course at Tokeland, but none had played or could provide the
Nelsons with information.
It seems I came along at just the right time . Having caddied and played at Tokeland,
I knew and remembered many of the golfers who frequented Tokeland in its earlier
days .
Tokeland Links - A Treasure Worth Saving
There are few places where the terrain is comparable to the Scottish coastal areas
for a seaside golf links . The rare combination of open grassy meadows growing on
a sandy base with scattered dunes and the marshlands with their receding tides and
low growing bushes similar to the Scottish heather are uncommon to say the least .
Except for the destruction of the resort town of Tokeland by storms and economic
depression, the little- known Tokeland Links could have easily developed into one
of the great seaside links courses . It may yet become a golfing treasure with its
combination of so many rare natural qualities .
Steve and Terry Larson have located all the old links now and the course has even
been surveyed, clearly identifying all the old holes . Tokeland Golf Links is now
officially registered with a few of the holes made playable . With the continued
effort of the Nelsons and Larsons, the assistance of golf professionals and the support of local citizens, Tokeland Links can fulfill its potential and become a great
linksland seaside course. The treasure of Tokeland can be attained but Tokeland
Links should be declared the national landmark it is .
0
The Tokeland Golf Links
By Vicki Nelson Larson
Editor's note: Vicki Larson has lived in Tokeland all her life . She writes here of the
golf links her family has preserved and restored, and memories of growing up in
Tokeland . Virginia M . Nelson, Chris Nelson, Bettie Larson Garbe and Terry Larson
have assisted her with information.
The "Tokeland Golf Links" property has been in our family's ownership since
1943 . The properties were purchased from W .S . (Bill) Kindred by Nelson Crab and
Oyster Company, owned by my Grandpa and Grandma (Herbert and Ina) Nelson,
my parents (Raymond and Virginia) Nelson, my aunt and uncle (Chris and Viola)
10
Herbert and Ina Nelson, grandparents of Vicki Nelson Larson, about 1937, on the golf
links property.
PCHS 1998.8 .5, courtesy of the Nelson family
Nelson, and my aunt and uncle (Melvin and Glen Nelson) .
According to Virginia Nelson, Effie Rankin was a trusted friend of William (Bill)
Kindred and a loyal employee of the Tokeland Hotel . When everyone else in Bill's
"Tokeland Family" had passed away and Bill was all alone, Effie stood by him . Bill
11
Kindred died peacefully in the room next to the kitchen in his home, the Tokeland
Hotel . He left Effie Rankin the 13 acres of land where the hotel and club house and
the residence still remain . The Nelson family purchased the property from Effie .
Later, the family divided their ownerships and the Tokeland Golf Links properties were then owned by my Grandpa and Grandma Nelson and my parents, Ray
and Virginia Nelson . The property then passed to my parents .
I remember going to our Tokeland Hotel as a little girl with my mother to check
on things and make sure everything was in place and locked up . Mom remembers
that the Nelson family hired the Walkers as caretakers and gardeners, and that prior
to the Hawthornes' purchase from Nelson Crab and Oyster Company, Vern and
Beulah Storey operated the Tokeland Hotel, serving meals and renting rooms
I have been very familiar with our properties since my childhood . My Grandpa
Nelson rode a big white horse named "Ribbon", and from the time I was four years
old (1949), and my sister Marsha was two years old, he used to put me on the back
of his saddle and Marsha on the front and take us on his long rides from the ranch
house (contiguous to the Georgetown Indian Reservation), and we would ride down
the ranch, along the golf course and the old airplane landing strip to his house on
the corner of Fisher Avenue and Eighth Street for lunch with my Grandma . On the
way back to the ranch house we would ride along our beach property also purchased from W.S . Kindred, and often (if we were tired) he would drop us off at
home where Mom would be waiting.
My Grandpa died when I was six years old, just two and a half weeks after my
brother, Steve, was born . There are four children in my family, Joanne (59), myself
(52), Marsha (50) and Steve (48) . Our Dad died March 7, 1994. Mom is still alive
and well at 78 years old . At present, she is our President of Tokeland Golf Links,
Inc. My brother and sisters and their families reside in Tokeland at this time .
Starting in 1969, my husband Terry and I decided to build a new home . My Dad
got so excited and said, "Come with me, I want to show you something ." He took
his bulldozer and cleared a spot that he called the site of the "Old Gun Club" . The
view was incredible along the north side of Willapa Bay . And of course we fell in
love with the place my Dad picked for us . As our two-story home took shape and
we were able to climb the stairs to the top floor, my Dad showed us where he had
caddied as a fourteen-year-old boy for Bill Kindred, and pointed out the fairways
(still very green) and where the course was as he remembered it . He remarked,
"Someday I want us to bring the old golf course back so that we can all play ." My
Dad loved golf and had a pretty good swing of his own.
After Steve and his wife Kathleen (Kathy) lost their home in a fire, and with
three children (Scott, Anne and Kim) they had to build a new home . Terry and I told
them how much we loved living on the old golf course and my Dad picked a spot
for them to build on the property adjacent to our home . The property was transferred to Steve and Kathleen in 1988 and they built their new home .
During the first 28 years that Terry and I have lived on the old Tokeland Golf
Links, Terry and Dad maintained the old road to the ranch and Terry mowed much
of the course where we raised Arabian horses . We used the golf course as a
12
pastureland and for riding or kite flying, and kept the horses in our stables at night .
Many of our horses have been champions, with two U .S . National Champions and
several Canadian and U.S . National Top Ten awards.
The turf on the golf course was never damaged and is still in its original state
after all these years . During the 1940s and 1950s, my Grandpa Nelson, Dad and
Uncle Thurman W. Moore (Foreman of Nelson Stock Ranch until he died in 196 .1)
used the old golf course fields primarily to thresh the shorelines bent grass seed .
The seed is very valuable and was sold through the farm commercially for many
years. My Dad always said the natural shorelines bent grass is the toughest and best
for sod.
In 1993, much to our delight my brother Steve Nelson, started mowing the mounds
and turf of the old golf course next to his house . He got so excited when he could
see the patterns taking shape that he came and found Terry and me . It was true that
the shapes were obviously the old tees and sand traps . Bettie Garbe recalls that
Steve had her go look at this discovery and she remembers the course as a young
girl. Bettie is the golfer of the family and is one of my husband Terry's four sisters .
Bettie has won many medals in golf tournaments across the country . At present she
is teaching our grandchildren how to golf and is consulting with us on our renovation of the old Links . Happily, she spends many hours testing the course. Victor
Vaughn likes to give her some competition when he visits in the summers here .
They have a real good time playing the old Links .
As the course was uncovered in 1993, everything seemed to match as if it were
very carefully designed by someone special . The old foot bridges were still there
enough to tell what they were, and renovation began .
Our Mother and Dad were very excited and supported Steve and Terry in . their
efforts to restore the old Tokeland Golf Links to full operation once again . We have
had strong support from everyone in the community and around the world toward
the completion of our project .
On March 6, 1994, our Dad spent a beautiful day on what we call "Ray's Knoll"
watching the boys hit a few balls . He laughed and reminisced about the old days of
golf and Tokeland. He reminded them that he was a caddy for Bill Kindred and
always loved the game of golf .
On the morning of March 7, 1994, Dad died peacefully in his sleep at home with
Mom and remains in our thoughts daily . Dad was 78 years old and resided in Pacific County his entire life . How happy he would be that we are carrying on his
dreams.
It hurts when we read in the history books or writings that during the years the
Nelson Family owned the Tokeland Hotel and golf course it was "neglected" . The
truth is, it was protected by the Nelson Family during a time of hardship and wars in
those years .
Being in the cattle, seafood (oysters, dungeness crab, salmon and other fish)
business, the Nelsons were able to feed many families . The cannery workers were
often bused in from other areas to keep the operations going (crab shakers, etc .) and
there were many times when they were given food and lodging at the Tokeland
13
Hotel . Grandma Nelson was a fabulous cook and a very hard worker. She and
Grandpa raised seven children . She would cook large meals in her kitchen at home
and feed many of the workers and hungry kids .
As children growing up in Tokeland, we were welcome in all of the homes . There
were always cookies and milk, hot chocolate or HI-C orange juice waiting for us .
We could get out of the rain and by a warm fire . Everyone shared and everyone
cared. It was a safe and friendly place to grow up .
O
Rediscovery of Tokeland Golf Links
Adds To Local Historical Chain
Reprinted from South Beach Bulletin, March 6, 1995
By Barb Aue
The rediscovery of the Tokeland Golf Links that run between the bay to the east
and homes and businesses along Kindred Avenue to the west on the Southern peninsula in Tokeland has its owners working hard to bring it back to top playing condition . The links course is a piece of Tokeland history that possibly dates back as
early as 1910 . Locals have long known of the former course created from a cow
pasture by the daughter of area pioneers, William and Lizzie Kindred .
Settler James G. Swan was the first known white resident at Toke's Point . He
came in 1854 and was gone by 1858 when homesteader George Brown arrived to
claim land. Brown chose to stay and make Toke's Point his permanent home . By the
winter of 1859 Brown had built a home and sent for his wife, Charlotte, and son
Albert from Portland . In 1862 their daughter Elizabeth was born, known to everyone on the Point as Lizzie .
Lizzie grew up among the Shoalwaters and, at the age of 18, married a Portland
carpenter named William Kindred, who had come to work on the Brown family
buildings . In 1882, the Kindreds purchased land on Toke Point from Lizzie's parents, moving into their newly built home in 1885 . They had two daughters, Maude,
born in 1881, and Bess, born in 1887 .
When George Brown died in 1883 the Kindreds started managing the farm for
Lizzie's mother, and when she died in 1891, they inherited all of the property .
In the late 1800s Toke Point began to gain a reputation as a fine beach resort, and
the growing number of visitors prompted Lizzie to open her home as an early day
boarding house for visitors. The move was such a success than an addition was
made in 1899, and the Kindred Inn was born . A matching wing with a dining room
in the center were added in 1910, and by then the Inn was commonly known as the
Tokeland Hotel . Youngest daughter Bess married in 1909 and moved to Tacoma,
but first-born Maude stayed to work with her parents in the hotel business .
Speculators from Portland descended upon the area in 1910 with grandiose ideas
14
for a "Coney Island" resort. Their scheme ended in bankruptcy, but daughter Maude
created recreational additions to the 40 acre hotel property in a slow and orderly
fashion and experienced strong success. Among her many resort-related projects,
she is credited with laying out the nine hole golf course in the former cattle grazing
pasture land behind the hotel. Taking advantage of the natural terrain, fairways,
greens, and sand bunkers were skillfully laid out to follow the natural lay of the
land, making the playing area by definition a "golf links" as opposed to a "golf
course" .
A clubhouse was built making use of the old pool hall building from down the
road and adding on to it . The building was skidded onto the site of the current
Tokeland Arts building that sits just 100 yards north of the Tokeland Hotel . A gun
club was added near the slough, and horseback riding stables housed the steeds
used for trail rides to the beach .
The Great Crash of 1929 and the national Depression that followed, along with
the death of family members, caused the property to go into decline . One by one the
ancillary operations faltered and, by the early 1930s, moneyed businessmen and
their cronies stopped coming to the course . Maintenance ceased and the tall pasture
grasses quickly took over the land that was once the very popular Tokeland Golf
Links .
In the late 1930s the property was sold to the owners of the Nelson Crab and
Oyster Company. The hotel was used for a time as a boarding house for cannery
employees and as a hotel and restaurant, but by 1949, it was closed to the public .
Keeping the surrounding 40 acres, the Nelsons sold the hotel in 1950, and it has
since gone through several owners and resurrections, some successful and some
not. It is currently once again a bustling hotel and restaurant under the ownership of
Scott and Catherine White of Seattle .
The Nelson acreage has been passed down through the family to Ray and Virginia Nelson's son and daughter, Steve Nelson and Vicki Larson . Both the Nelson
and Larson families have built homes on the Nelson Ranch to the north of the
Tokeland Hotel .
History began to repeat itself in 1986, when, after building their new home overlooking the bay, Steve and Kathy Nelson decided they would enlarge their lawn on
the view side . Steve began to mow the two-foot tall pasture grass between his house
and the water's edge but almost immediately ran into problems with the terrain . His
tractor kept getting hung up on raised lumps in the pasture, so he starting mowing
around them . Standing back to study a large section that had been mowed and its
accompanying oblique mounds, Nelson's curiosity was aroused . He mowed further
to the south towards the old clubhouse and hotel, discovering more mounds, finally
coming to the conclusion that they were, in fact, the old greens from the turn-ofthe-century Tokeland Golf Links .
Consultation with brother-in-law Terry and his sister Vicki led to the idea of
reclaiming the Links for future use. Long-time Toke Point resident, Tom Wilcox,
has worked with the two families on the business and layout plans and has been
helping with continuous mowing of the area . All nine of the original holes have
15
been identified, and what first appeared to be a random sampling of mounds, nicely
laid itself out as the original course, once they were all discovered.
The Larsons and Nelsons are following in Maude Kindred's footsteps and taking
the project forward slowly, one step at a time . Mowing, sanding greens, encouraging the fine natural bent grass that grows there, fixing foot bridges across the meandering slough, along with pruning small fairway landing areas are the extent of
work that will be done on the actual course in keeping with the natural links philosophy.
Plans are in the works to build a new club house immediately to the north of the
old one that still stands between Terry and Vicki Larson's property . It, like the hotel,
has gone through a number of reincarnations, most notably as Cap's Tavern and
most recently the home of the Tokeland Fine Arts Studio . Steve and Kathy Nelson's
home is at the far northern end of the links that meanders up and back for the two
and a half mile nine hole stretch . The course as laid out runs more than 3300 yards
and is set at par 36, meeting the standards for professional golf. There are two par
3s, two par 5s, and five par 4s .
The Nelsons and Larsons will be in partnership in the Tokeland Golf Links enterprise, with Terry and Vicki's daughter, Tricia Larson, serving as general manager .
Tricia graduated from Seattle Pacific University in 1993 with a B .A. in Fashion
Merchandising that included not only a strong liberal arts, but also a business management background as well . The earliest opening date for the links would possibly
be next spring, according to Tricia, but much depends on weather, work, and tides .
One particularly excited booster of the project is a former South Bend native
who was raised in Raymond . Victor "Chub" Vaughn, 82, is an avid golfer who
started as a caddy at the age of 14 at the Willapa Harbor Golf Course in Raymond
when it opened in 1926 . There he learned to love the game, playing with the allwooden clubs in use during those days .
Last summer, during one of his regular visits back to this area from his home
near Washington D .C ., Vaughn heard about the rediscovery of the Tokeland Golf
Links and the work the Nelsons and Larsons are doing to reclaim it . He offered by
letter upon his return home to do some research and share what he remembered
about the Tokeland Golf Links on his next visit . Last week Vaughn came to stay at
the Tokeland Hotel, share that information, and even play a round on the old course
with former long-time North Cove and Grayland resident, Bettie (Larson) Garbe,
Terry Larson's oldest sister.
Garbe, as locals may recall, owned and operated the Gray Gull Gallery on SR
105 just south of the Bonge Beach approach during the 1980s . For the past eight
years she has lived in Arizona, recently returning to make her home in Aberdeen to
be closer to family. Bettie, 72, came to North Cove as a child of about seven, and
also remembers the golf course and club house as a child .
In a pre-golfing round visit last Friday, the tall and slender Vaughn (who picked
up the nickname "Chub" as a pudgy child and who is still known by that name in
the Raymond area today) reminisced about his early golfing days in Tokeland and
Raymond . He remembers well caddying for moneyed lumber barons and businessmen from all over Grays Harbor and Pacific County in the late 1920s at both the
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Willapa Harbor Club and the Tokeland Golf Links before he left to attend the University of Washington . Names that readily came to mind included Dr . C. DeLateur,
lumber baron T. D . Lewis, Dr. Anderson from South Bend, (whose sons Jack and
Bill were Victor's age), Pacific County Sheriff Oscar Chester, and a Mr . Duncan,
who was a prominent Raymond banker, to name but a few .
Vaughn played on the U .W. golf team, making varsity his last three years and
winning the state championship in 1936. Graduating in 1938, he found a job in
Washington, D.C . with the Department of Agriculture . While he says he's always
yearned to return to the Pacific Northwest, career and family needs kept him back
east. He worked for the Department of Agriculture for 30 years, retiring in 1973
and is now living in Falls Church, Virginia .
Remaining a fan of golf, but not finding time to play the game during his working years, Vaughn began instead to collect golfing artifacts, "just to keep my hand
in," he says . Up until his retirement and move to smaller quarters, he boasted the
largest collection of golfing memorabilia in the entire country.
Vaughn noted during his conversation that the golden era of golf was 1890 to
1930, which encompassed the years of the Tokeland Golf Links and in part explains
its popularity with local summer residents and area businessmen . He even remembers seeing Spanish-American War veterans gathering for reunions and playing
golf at the Tokeland Links in the early 1920s when he was a lad of six or seven .
Vaughn was especially interested in the last remaining known artifact relating
directly to the Tokeland Golf Links -a wooden and leather bag that sits in a place of
honor over one of the doorways to the study at the Tokeland Hotel . The golfing
history expert says the bag is definitely of 1920s vintage, probably still in use at the
time the course shut down in the '30s . He encouraged the group to continue in their
search for more items and photographs relating to the Tokeland Golf Links, with an
eye to getting the reopened facility placed on the National Historical Register, like
the Tokeland Hotel .
And so, with Victor Vaughn and Bettie Garbe driving, pitching and putting out
on the Tokeland Golf Links in the warm resort-like Toke Point sunshine last Friday,
the chain of Tokeland history lengthens once more .
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Tombstones In the Tavern
and Other Tokeland Tales
By John Doe (Vernon Shipman)
(reprinted from The Scoop, "Grayland's Only Metropolitan Weekly,
surfing the suburbs of North Cove, Tokeland and Westport") (June 9, 1979)
(Editor's note from The Scoop: "Dropped into Capt's Tav on a hot day a week or so
ago - just to see the tombstones, of course, and fell to chatting with Vernon Shipman, a
resident of Tokeland for 57 years, on and off . Sitting with him next day on his back
stoop behind the tavern - the sun sparkling on the beer cans -we listened while Vernon
recalled the Tokeland of the 20s")
"I was born in Bay Center and came to Tokeland in 1922 . Seven years later
Capt's Tavern, originally a pool hall located near the old dock, was moved to its
present location by Fred Landry and Bill Dibkey, where it became the club house
for Kindreds' nine hole golf course on the hotel property. On April 9, 1933 Maud
Kindred opened it as a tavern which it has been ever since . She lived in the house
which stands just south of the hotel, and which was occupied by the Hawthornes
when they owned the property . Across the pasture and through the tees to the north
the original gun club stood - a dark brown, two-story structure on the property now
occupied by the Terry Larsons.
"Going back a bit, George Brown, Elizabeth Kindred's father was the first to
homestead in this area . He obtained a large amount of land from the government
and eventually owned everything from the dock to the Shoalwater Reservation.
"I remember the old Reliable and the Shamrock, two steamers piloted by Capt .
Reed, which ran between South Bend and Tokeland (and which our South Bend
grandmother and our mother used to take to Tokeland for summer outings at
Kindreds' Hotel, Scoop Ed.) The ferry service took over after the steamers were
taken off the run, and continued until the highway was built between Raymond and
Aberdeen .
"Seemed like there was a lot more to Tokeland in the 20s. Wealthy lumber people
from Aberdeen and Hoquiam had vacation homes here and drove fancy cars and
kept fine horses. Besides the hotel, there was a lively place on Saturday night with
real musicians from Aberdeen and Hoquiam. Next to the dance hall was the Rustic
Hotel which was built with a bow and a stern to resemble a ship, while on down the
road was the general store and post office which was dismantled in recent years .
"The wild horses that used to run through here? Yes, I remember them, and wild
cattle too. You'd hear their thundering hooves and then you'd see 10 or 15 of them
tearing down the road here with their manes flying . If you were on the road when
they came by you sure got off in a hurry .
"Everyone had kerosene lamps and outhouses, except the hotel . They had inside
plumbing with those old tanks and chains in the bathrooms, and electricity from
their own generator, although the lights were pretty dim .
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Passenger steamers Shamrock and Reliable at Tokeland about 1915 .
PCHS 1998 .8 .12, courtesy of the Nelson Family
"My father, Harry Shipman, was a crab fisherman who invented the original crabpot. He modeled it after a lobster pot which he had seen, and to my knowledge, was
the first person to use a crab-pot around here . (He could be right . Our old aunty told
us how they used to use crab rakes to catch crabs, walking out at low tide barefooted. -Scoop Ed.)
"Now those two tombstones in the tavern originally came from a small cemetery
near Case Creek, which ran off of Cedar River . During a storm Case Creek changed
its course, completely washing out the graveyard . Those 2 tombstones fell in the
mud there where they laid for years . My brother, Freddy Shipman, and Dan Catino
who lives here in Tokeland, stumbled across those stones while duck hunting one
day, and brought them to the little slough near the tavern where they were placed on
the bank in the grass . And there they stayed until recently when they were moved
into the tavern and placed on either side of the fireplace . Both tombstones bear the
names of relatives of Elizabeth Kindred .
"Tokeland changed a lot after that big storm and tidal wave in the 30s which
wiped out so many homes . Things were never the same after that ."
O
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The Baleville Telephone Association
By Arne Salonen
Baleville, in a beautiful valley nestled at the base of a big hill, at the time of its
settlement by the Bales and the Greenwells in about 1900 had no road to connect it
to Raymond five miles to the east . All travel and transportation was done by boat on
the Willapa River. Pacific County built a nice dock for the pioneer residents to moor
their rowboats and small power boats . Families received and sent out mail through
the South Bend Post Office, and caught the train in South Bend for other destinations . They visited the doctor and dentist and did their shopping in South Bend as
well . This was a busy town in those early years and up until the big depression
Bob Bruner of Eklund Park remembers that the phone line over the narrows to Baleville
was knocked down by a sailing ship in about 1920 . Robert McCausland's drawing shows
the commotion this incident caused on Eklund Park hill .
things were good . Lots of work, and people were very happy .
In Baleville, the pioneers built homes and barns, and cleared land for pastures
and hayfields . Every family had milk cows, chickens, and pigs . The one thing they
wanted badly was a telephone line to connect them to the County and State . The
telephone company would not connect to Baleville until a road was put in so they
could maintain the line . I suppose they talked about a submarine line, but even the
South Bend water pipe that crossed the Willapa River at the narrows was sometimes ripped out when a ship dragged its anchor to slow down for the s- bend .
C.E. Thew, a long-time telephone company manager who lived in Eklund Park,
said he had the solution : an overhead wire from the tallest tree on the west side of
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the narrows on Camenzind Hill . This spruce had many limbs to provide a ladder .
On the Eklund Park side, another smaller spruce provided a hold, and the wire was
pulled across between those two trees . Whether this was the first time or the second, I don't know. I was at the beach watching when they brought it across . I was
four or five at the time, so that would have been around 1920 .
If we were to search through the old South Bend Journal, I'm sure there would
be a story about an aerial job that put the telephone wire high enough to clear the
tall masts of the sailing ships. loaded with lumber for Australia . The small, coastal
steamships had shorter masts .
In, 1950 or so, I bought a ten-acre piece of the best land that used to be George
Bales' hayfield : On summer afternoons, I could see .them cutting hay using two
horse-power, leaving it to dry and then taking it to the Barn with hay wagons loaded
high. Old George Bale was a strong man, a real worker . He farmed, milked his
cows, worked at the Columbia Box Mill in Eklund Park (see The Sou'wester. Summer 1997, Ed .) and as a longshoreman in South Band and Raymond. He lived to be
90 or so, and built a home on the Baleville Road which was eventually extended to
Tokeland. I recall him telling me how much work it was to dike the pasture land,
north of South Bend across the river . But when diked to keep the high tides out in
the winter, it became better pasture land .
I, too, joined the Baleville Telephone Association, and put in a crank telephone .
The number was . 30-F-2. The old telephone is now fastened to the kitchen wall in
my home in Hoquiam .
O
A Remembrance of Oysterville
By Ann Sherwood Anderson
My first .memory of Oysterville was sitting on the porch of the church when I
was 5 years old. It was 1938 and my mother, Millie, had just married Edwin Sherwood
and he moved us to our new home in Oysterville . I was born in Joplin, Mo. and
came to Oysterville by way of Aumsville, Oregon and no one ever told me how or
why! I adapt easily and grew to love that little town and I do to this day . I often go
back and walk around and remember
The Church was very special, to me because I went to Sunday School and earned
gold stars . Christmas, was the best time because there was always a Santa Claus and
he handed out orange mesh bags with goodies inside . When World War II started,
candy was missing from those mesh bags, but we had learned to sacrifice our luxuries and no one minded . An apple or an orange tasted almost as good and we were
proud that the candy was going overseas for our soldiers .
The Church also had a lovely little stage for performing the Christmas pageant . I
was always the angel because I had long blonde hair . I have since learned that
angels come in all shapes and forms and sometimes are invisible . Besides I always
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The old Oysterville School . Left to right: Ann (Mimi) Sherwood, Ramona Gove, Helen
Martin, Betty Sherwood (my sister), Patsy Dalton, Shirley Whitwell (cousin), Red Robertson,
Donald Robertson and Gary Whitwell (cousin) .
- courtesy of Ann (mm) sherwood Anderson
wanted to be one of the 3 wise men and sing my favorite Christmas Carol, "We
Three Kings of Orient Are!"
The Church also held the funerals, including my dear Grandma Biggs . She was
in her coffin wearing a beautiful gray dress and my new dad sang her favorite song,
"Beautiful Dreamer"
The one-room schoolhouse holds a lot of memories for me, too. After all, I spent
a great deal of time there learning my ABCs and the exciting world of Dick and
Jane and Spot. Our enrollment averaged 10 children from first grade through the
sixth . After that we took the bus to Ocean Park. All classes were held in one room,
so we couldn't help learning all the grades no matter how young we were, so when
I found myself to be the only one in the second grade, it was a simple thing to be
skipped to the third.
I remember the pot-belly stove we huddled around in the winter and the long
very hard tables we had to crawl up onto with our blankets for a nap. Of course, we
never slept, but pretended to . I remember the out-house, also, and the time my
sister, Betty, dropped her new watch down the hole . Needless to say, that watch is
still there!
Our teacher was Mrs . Barne and we all loved her . One year she became very ill
and a substitute teacher came to us from llwaco . Her name was Mrs . Suomela and
she was very nice . Especially when she surprised us with home-made strawberry
shortcake on the last day of school .
Mrs. Barne taught us to dance . Our music came from a large Victrola which she
would wind up and all us kids took turns putting in the new needles . We learned the
Highland Fling and the Waltz . Helen Martin and I waltzed to Three O'Clock in the
Morning ., thinking we were the most beautiful dancers in the world . Five of us
were from Missouri . My cousins, Shirlie and Gary Whitwell a close friend, Pat
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Dalton (who is now Pat, Hammond and part owner of P & K Seafood Market in
Ocean Park) and my sister Betty and me. We soon became true Oysterville kids and
our friends and school mates were Bud Goulter, who still lives there, and Ramona
Gove, Helen Martin, and Richard (Red) Robertson and his brother, Donald . The
Robertson brothers are both in the Oysterville Cemetery now and I stop in to say
`hello' whenever I am there .
Bud still tells the story of how he ran over me with his bike and Betty and Pat ran
him down and beat him up . He laughs when he tells it, so 1 guess he isn't still mad
at us.
The gathering place in town was the Oysterville store and post office . I imagine
it is to this day. I know the big candy case is still there with the curved glass that
held all kinds of magic back then . I spent many a penny on black licorice pipes and
Guess Whats . I remember how Red Robertson used to run past our house and throw
Guess Whats at my sister, Betty, and that was a sign that he was in love with her . It
was a piece of paper holding two little caramels and a riddle, hence the name Guess
Whats?. Betty claimed she didn't like him, but she sure liked those Guess Whats!
One night Red came running to our house from their home on Stackpole Road
and he was in tears . We had a phone and he asked my dad to call the doctor because
his father was sick. It was a heart attack and Mr. Robertson died that night . It was
the first tragedy that I remember.
The holidays were so much fun . The 4th of July meant a picnic on the beach and
good food and fireworks . The only warning we needed when it came to the fireworks was Grandpa Biggs holding up his right index finger which was half gone as
a result of a firecracker accident when he was a boy back in Ohio .
Halloween was a lot of fun and we never expected to get candy bars or wear the
fancy store-bought costumes . A sheet with two holes cut out for eyes was all I ever
needed. I remember the thrill of going to the Espy house and being invited in for a
cup of apple cider. Our wants were simple and our needs were few . We would
usually end the evening with a rousing game of "Witch, Witch, come out-tonight!"
in our front yard. Of course we played that game any chance we had when we were
allowed to stay out after dark . The adults were the ones who pulled the `tricks' .
Clark Taylor and his wife lived across the street from us and they were both very
small and they drove a little tiny Austin car. So, my Uncle Harry and his buddies,
put the car up on his garage roof and disappeared into the night
Christmas was magic. Santa was real . We cut our own tree and decorated it and it
didn't need the modem tree lights to be the prettiest tree in the world . During the
war, our windows had to be covered with black tar paper so that no light would
show through, and our mother cut out stars and put silver glitter on them and pasted
them on so that we were glad we had to have the tar paper .
We lived just one block up the oyster shell road from the Bay and Northern
Oyster Company. Kitty-corner across the street was the Bard Heim Dairy where
Martin and Edith Olson lived with their family . They had a huge St. Bernard named
Eric and I admired him from afar because I was afraid to get too close . I'm sure he
was at least twice as big as me. One time, I was showing off in front of some kids,
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turning cartwheels and my arm slipped out from under me in the wet grass and I
could hear it snap. Dr. Strang, in Ilwaco, set it and I went home to find that Edith
Olson had already brought over a plate of raisin cookies for me . My very own
cookies! I can't remember if I shared them or not . I hope I did . The next day, Mom
said I should take the empty plate back to Edith and thank her . Well, that meant
walking past Eric . Sure enough, he came bounding at me with tail wagging and I
screamed, dropped the plate and ran home . However, to this day, I still have, in my
recipe file, `Edith Olson's Drop Cookies .' What a kind, interesting, talented lady
she was and I miss seeing her.
My Grandparents, Earl and Myrtle Biggs, moved to Oysterville and had a farm
out on Skating Lake Road . More family followed from the Midwest and we soon
had a real little colony of our own . Some are still on the Peninsula. Redells, Stones
and Biggs . Grandma and Grandpa are both in the Oysterville cemetery .
My dad, Eddie started an oyster cannery in our backyard. It was called The
Sherwood Co. and the logo was a little Robin Hood . He had a smokehouse and I
remember how good the oysters tasted, the only way I ever liked oysters, I'm ashamed
to say.
I would put myself to sleep at night counting the people who lived in Oysterville .
It was much nicer than trying to count sheep . I would start with Lou Mitchell on the
corner (known as Klondyke Lou), Mabel Goulter, the Daltons, the Holways, the
Nelsons, Espys, Wachsmuths, Heckes, Kemmers, Stoners . Mr. Stoner grew a field
of beautiful white Calla Lillies and gave armfuls to the ladies . Strangely enough I
don't remember ever seeing his wife . I remember Bud Goulter's parents, Ed and
Gladys, very well . Gladys was beautiful .
Minnie and Bert Andrews owned the Oysterville store when we first moved there
and they were shirttail relations of ours because their son, Carl, married my step
dad's sister, Marie . Carl and Marie had two children, Vernon and Sissie and I was so
happy to have cousins
They say `You Can't Go Home Again' but you can when it is Oysterville . It
remains a quiet and lovely village and, as I walk down the road, I am 5 years old
once again.
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