If the American West represents the “geography of hope,” as author Wallace Stegner wrote, then what better place than California’s far north to illustrate the eternal tension between the limitless potential of big ideas and the brutal disappointment of broken dreams?

The Golden State’s verdant North Coast, a great empire of trees and home to the Yurok, the state’s largest Native American tribe, has seen centuries of boom and bust — riches taken from above and beneath the earth. When gold miners brought their nuggets from the foothills to the coast, Eureka’s broad bay became a bustling transit hub.

After the gold was gone, it was replaced with timber, “red gold.” The region’s massive redwoods made many locals rich; when the forests were clear cut, the pulp mills came. They, too, went bust. Dams harnessed the region’s rushing rivers to produce electricity, causing the collapse of its prized salmon runs. A “green” cannabis revolution arrived, promising to bring a balm to this depressed place. But a glut of legal weed flooded the market, leaving the plants to wither along with the growers’ dreams of wealth.

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• POLL! How Are You Feeling About Those Humboldt Offshore Wind Plans?

Now, once again, the siren call of capturing the North Coast’s natural resources beckons dreamers and speculators, this time the treasure lies far off the rugged coast of Humboldt and Del Norte counties. Its promise: The Pacific Ocean — which feeds us, modulates our weather and delivers our goods — will provide clean, renewable energy from its powerful winds.

The tantalizing possibility of capturing wind energy from giant floating ocean platforms is considered essential to achieving California’s ambitious goal of electrifying its grid with 100% zero-carbon energy. The state’s blueprint envisions offshore wind farms producing 25 gigawatts of electricity by 2045, powering 25 million homes and providing about 13% of the power supply.

A new gold rush doesn’t begin to describe the urgency of harnessing wind off California when it comes to meeting climate goals. The first, substantial step has been taken: Last December, the federal government auctioned off 583 square miles of ocean waters off Humboldt Bay and the Central Coast’s Morro Bay to five energy companies — with more lease sales expected. The five wind farms will hold hundreds of giant turbines, each about 900 feet high, as tall as a 70-story building.

The projects will be a giant experiment: No other floating wind operations are in such deep waters. From China to Rhode Island, about 250 offshore wind farms are operating around the world, mostly in shallow waters close to shore and secured to the ocean floor. But the areas off California with the strongest winds are far from shore and too deep for traditional platforms, so developers are planning clusters of floating platforms about 20 miles off the coast, in waters more than a half-mile deep and tethered by cables.

The depth, distance from shore and new floating technology drive up the costs and complicate an already expansive process. Massive infusions of private and public money will be needed. And it likely will be a decade or longer before any major wind farms off California begin to produce power: The companies will spend up to five years preparing technical plans and analyzing environmental impacts of each project. Then federal and state review and permitting could take two or more years, and construction could last five or more years.

Each of the wind farms off Humboldt and Morro Bay will require an extensive network of offshore and onshore development, including miles of undersea transmission lines, expanded ports, new or upgraded onshore substations and electrical distribution networks. They would provide power to 1.5 million homes.

But the still-evolving technology of floating wind farms makes it challenging to analyze the viability and impacts of these projects. Experts say a lack of existing data on potential environmental effects means that much of the scientific understanding will only begin after they are operating.

“There’s no pretending this isn’t a massive enterprise that the state of California is in the process of embracing,” said Adam Stern, executive director of Offshore Wind California, an industry group.

“We cannot sugarcoat it. There are massive hurdles we need to work on. We need to wrestle these challenges to the ground and come up with work plans. That’s starting to happen. We have to help and support the leaseholders in getting their projects off the ground.”

A CalMatters analysis shows that California’s offshore wind projects carry a host of implications and uncertainties:

• Energy companies will need hundreds of millions of dollars in state subsidies or bonds to assist with the extreme costs of construction and operation. Each wind farm could cost about $5 billion to develop, construct and assemble.

• Wind farms require an unprecedented industrialization of the coast, with millions in public funds to expand and upgrade ports, harbors and support facilities.

• No one knows how wind farms will affect migrating whales and other marine mammals and seabirds. Although other offshore wind operations around the world have had minimal impact, they are not directly analogous to the Pacific Ocean or floating platforms, which have cables and lines that could entangle whales.

• Commercial fishing operations are likely to face some degree of restricted access to leased waters, which include some of the state’s most productive fisheries.

• Local communities will bear social costs and strains on infrastructure, such as higher housing costs and utility upgrades.

• Building transmission lines and related infrastructure to distribute the new wind power carries a price tag of as much as $8 billion in California and at least $700 billion nationwide.

• Private investments and public funds totaling more than $260 billion will be needed by 2045 to improve the industry’s supply chains — the parts and materials, such as rotors and turbines — to achieve the nation’s clean energy goals.

• The state government could become the largest customer for offshore wind power, since it can be locked into long-term contracts for what is likely to be expensive electricity under a new law signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom.

• Estimates of the cost of the power are speculative and vary widely, and the initial rates could be high — as much as $133 per megawatt hour, according to a federal analysis, compared to $34 for land-based wind.

Rather than being motivated by a can-do spirit, wind development off California is propelled by a must-do mandate. The five companies already paid the U.S. Treasury $757.1 million to lease the tracts off California.

Powering an expansive economy free of fossil fuels by 2045 means the state must triple its power generation capacity and deploy new solar and wind energy at almost five times the pace of the past decade. 

“There is an undeniable urgency,” said David Hochschild, chair of the California Energy Commission. “California has had unprecedented climate challenges. There is a fierce urgency to respond. We have to stop being academic on this. We have to build.” 

It’s a leap into the unknown for officials at the California Coastal Commission, which is one of the state agencies responsible for reviewing the potential environmental impacts of these projects. 

“There’s a great deal of uncertainty in all aspects of planning of offshore wind,” said Kate Huckelbridge, executive director of the Coastal Commission, which has legal jurisdiction from the sea to the sand and will handle much of the analysis and permitting.

Huckelbridge, an environmental engineer, said the agency has experience understanding how large structures in the ocean affect the marine environment — think offshore oil rigs. But a wind platform — each holding a towering turbine with spinning blades as big as one-and-a half football fields — is of another magnitude.

“The scale is one of the differences that we have to get our head around,” Huckelbridge said. “All components of these turbines are on a scale we haven’t seen before anywhere in the world. Even though we know the questions to ask, the answers are not clear.”

A new state law streamlines the environmental approval process by consolidating analyses by multiple state agencies and jurisdictions. The State Lands Commission will be the lead agency for the environmental review, while the Coastal Commission is responsible for issuing a coastal development permit.

California’s offshore power generation will feed into a federal goal of 15 gigawatts by 2035. The Biden administration calls the rush to claim this new energy frontier the “Floating Offshore Wind Shot,” invoking the memory of the Moon Shot and the enormous collective effort to put an American on the moon.

Welcoming with open arms — but fingers crossed

Scott Adair strode brightly into a conference room on a cold and misty summer morning. Thoughtful and earnest, Adair had been musing about his county’s Next Big Thing.

Two areas off Humboldt already have been leased for wind farms that will hold perhaps 50 or more turbines each, and the region is expected to host most of California’s future projects. Wind there is strong and reliable, and, while the region badly needs a transmission upgrade, it also has room to accommodate new infrastructure. 

As the county’s director of economic development, Adair marvels at offshore wind towers as “fantastical” structures that could boost employment and growth. But he’s giving deep thought to everything the industry may portend for his struggling community.

Nearly a fifth of Humboldt County households live in poverty, and the region is near the top of indicators that suggest times are tough. The county has a net out-migration, with more and more residents leaving to look for jobs or a cheaper place to live. Adair cites the rueful in-joke: Humboldt’s greatest export is its smart kids.

Unlike other communities along the California coast where NIMBYism dominates the conversation, the Humboldt coast is eager to accommodate wind farms. Although the employment projections careen all over the place, from a few hundred to several thousand new jobs, even a small economic gain can have a welcome, profound effect in a rural area.

And yet, perhaps because of the region’s history of exploiting forests until they disappeared, with the mop-up left to locals, there is vigilance. “We are cautious about the flimflam, if you will, the over-promisers,” Adair said. 

Adair is clear-eyed about the region’s role as host to what will be a sudden and massive development, with more lease areas expected to follow.

“This is a federal project that is happening to us,” Adair said. “We have a limited ability to be involved and to help steer or shape the outcomes of the project.” 

To Adair, the potential windfall is tempered by the unknown. “This is an opportunity on a magnitude and scale that I don’t think we have seen or experienced before, in decades, perhaps in the last century,” he said. “It’s massive, it’s huge, metaphorically, but literally.” 

In March Humboldt supervisors discussed the potential economic boon and cost to the county, and invested $850,000 to study how to prepare, including workforce training, legal support and supply chain analysis.

The supervisors said they are excited about the possibilities, but they also worry about the pitfalls and are bracing for disappointment. “I go into this with my eyes wide open,” said Supervisor Rex Bohn. “I pray this happens. I hope like hell this happens.” 

Up the coast, the Yurok Tribe is feeling a tug of deja vu: outsiders dangling promises of money and jobs in return for natural resources.

“I’m an Indigenous person. I’ve already seen this playbook before,” said Phillip Williams, a Yurok Tribal Council member.

The Yurok, the largest Native American tribe in California with more than 6,500 members, battled 18th century settlers for their ancestral lands that span the sprawling 16,000-square-mile Klamath River watershed.

Williams said many in the region have been “blinded by dollars.”

“Everybody’s lining up. It’s almost like there’s a predator. ‘Okay, these guys are weak. We can come in here and take advantage of this community that’s this desperate for dollars, because they’ve already depleted all their natural resources. What else can we extract from these communities, and these communities are so desperate, that they’re willing to jump off the bridge blind, in hopes that there’s gold at the bottom,’” he said.

Like other communities along the North Coast, Williams said the Yuroks need sustainable jobs, but not at any cost. More than a third of tribal members live below the poverty line, 60% of them children.

“We are trying desperately to create jobs and an economy here,” Williams said. “We could jump off the bridge just like everybody else, join the bandwagon. A lot of very smart people are saying, ‘let’s jump in.’ Yurok, we’re not motivated by money. We’re not willing to sell our resources for money. We’ve already done that and we’ve seen the result of it.”

“We could jump off the bridge just like everybody else, join the bandwagon… We’re not willing to sell our resources for money. We’ve already done that and we’ve seen the result of it.”
— Phillip Williams, Yurok Tribal Council

Developers must establish community development funds and employment training programs — potentially millions of dollars — under the conditions of their federal leases. Among the nonprofits and other community groups angling to manage the windfall, Adair likens the situation to “sharks circling the water to get money from developers.”

How can the community embrace the opportunity without allowing the potential growth to drive up the cost of living and housing or over-tax community services? Adair said the local government’s capacity to administer even a slice of the wind energy bureaucracy is limited.

The county is already short 3,000 housing units, and he doesn’t know where the skilled workers will come from in a region that he estimates has only 100 master electricians. And he wonders what will happen to other construction projects, large and small, should the wind terminal construction siphon the localized workforce.

Like many local leaders, Adair has been on a crash course to educate himself about offshore wind technology, binging online seminars at night and on weekends.

“It seems as though, from our perspective, that Washington is putting undue pressure and responsibility on the community and the developers to figure this all out. It’s a fast track,” he said, adding that he’s talked to local leaders in Europe, where offshore wind is growing. “We’re hearing a common theme: Slow it down. Take your time to really understand it so that you get it right. ”

It’s a sentiment shared by Oregon Gov. Tina Kotek, who in June sent a letter to federal officials asking for a pause in the offshore wind program there until more information on environmental and economic impacts are known. The feds have identified some 1,800 square miles of potential wind lease areas off the Oregon coast. 

“You know, we were given this gift of this potentially massive economic opportunity,” Adair said. “And it might, it might have some real energy benefits to it as well. But we aren’t necessarily equipped to or capable of receiving that gift, at least not at this scale. We need to be careful.”

Support or subsidy? Green power requires a lot of of green

As with any new technology, the early costs to launch are high. Subsidies are part of a standard playbook to help bootstrap new technology: offering support until a business can stand on its feet. Because floating offshore wind is critical to federal and state clean-energy goals, taxpayers and ratepayers will subsidize some of the private companies’ financial risk, at least at the beginning.

If getting wind power to market in California just meant bringing electrons to shore, it would be a massively ambitious undertaking requiring technology that in some cases has yet to be developed. But the effort is further complicated by what’s required once the power hits land — much of the means to move it does not now exist.

California will have to restructure its electricity grid to handle and distribute the new power. The national transition to a net-zero carbon economy will require a financial injection from the private sector and state agencies to double the state’s existing transmission infrastructure, at a cost of at least $700 billion in new investment by 2050, according to a recent UC Berkeley report.

“We are going  to need state money and we are going to need federal money. We can make this the industry that puts California at the center of a global industry.”
— Molly Croll, American Clean Power

Private companies must create a supply chain for parts and materials that are not yet available in the United States. A small fraction of the blades, turbines and other parts that make up the wind turbines are made in the United States, and almost none are manufactured in California, according to a report to the Energy Commission.

Supply chain investments will require more than $260 billion by 2045 to reach the nation’s offshore wind production goals, the UC Berkeley researchers found. They also envision bottlenecks in port capacity and finding the vessels to tow and install the platforms at sea.

The researchers’ conclusion: The challenges are immense, but not insurmountable.

A Department of Energy offshore wind market report, published in August, predicted the wind industry would have a rocky start followed by a bright future.

So far, it’s been turbulent: Rising capital costs and interest rates, as well as supply chain volatility, are buffeting the industry. The costs per kilowatt-hour over the life of a project increased nearly 50% between 2021 and 2023, according to a recent Bloomberg analysis.

And interest from companies in building the projects has been unpredictable. Last month, a federal lease sale in the Gulf of Mexico garnered a tepid response. Only one of three areas was bid upon and the bid-per-acre was just $55, compared to an average of $2,028 per acre for the California leases. 

That pales in comparison to  the $8,313 per acre for leases in the New York Bight earlier this year. The $4.37 billion that companies paid for six offshore wind leases off New York and New Jersey in February was the largest amount ever paid for U.S. offshore energy leases — including for oil and gas.

Given the capital risks, the floating offshore wind industry expects government help. And it’s getting it.

State and federal officials are pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into grants for industry research and development, various tax incentives and assistance to build this new industry. So far the California Energy Commission has spent more than $100 million in support of offshore wind, according to the agency. Projects also may qualify for tax credits that can offset 30% or more of development costs.

“There will be creative financing solutions,” said Molly Croll, Pacific offshore wind director for American Clean Power, a renewable industry association. “We are going  to need state money and we are going to need federal money. We can make this the industry that puts California at the center of a global industry.” 

A new law allows the Department of Water Resources to purchase offshore wind power to signal to the industry that there will be buyers. 

While the department has a track record of procuring power, it’s not a laudable one. During the energy crisis of the early 2000s, it entered into long-term energy contracts at a cost of more than $40 billion, which was subsequently found to be unreasonably high. 

No estimates are available for how much purchasing the wind power could cost the state or ratepayers, although the bill’s supporters say that ultimately Californians will save money in their electric bills.

Wind developers lobbied hard for the legislation this year. Sam Eaton, chief executive officer of RWE Offshore Holdings, which holds one of the leases off Humboldt, said having California as an assured buyer for future wind power shows the state’s long-term support for the industry.

“It’s central to be able to see that kind of support to be able to make ultimately tens of billions of dollars of investment in a market,” Eaton said. “Our investors would not want us to take that kind of risk otherwise.”

Wind developers point out that offshore wind will deliver electricity later in the day, when solar plants are going offline and demand ramps up. They also note that the cost will drop over time, a demonstrable trend with other renewable technologies.

State Sen. Brian Dahle, a Republican from Redding, wants renewable energy but questions the unknown cost to consumers.

“This is just like the bullet train. We are just going to do it because, by golly, we are just going to do it,” he said. “We are going to pass on the cost to the ratepayers and we have the highest electric bills in the nation. This is going to break the state.” 

The importance of bigger ports

Ports will play a significant, as-yet unfilled role in supporting offshore wind, to assemble the platforms and maintain service fleets and vast repair yards. 

State officials acknowledge that no ports in the state are ready to do the job. Getting them ready could mean turning swaths of California’s coast into industrial zones.

The Port of Long Beach is the only California port even remotely prepared to handle the wind energy workload. The busy port has proposed Pier Wind, a 400-acre offshore wind turbine assembly terminal with a price tag of $4.7 billion. Construction could begin in four years, and even after the terminal is built, it’s only feasible to deliver the turbines as far as the Central Coast, which would require a barge to tow the structures for two days on open seas. 

The Long Beach port’s CEO, Mario Cordero, said he expects funding from the state Energy Commission to help prepare the new facility. 

“It’s assumed that there’s going to be public funds,” Cordero said. “This requires a collaborative effort. It is a long-term endeavor. At the pace we’re going, all the levers have to be pulled.” 

One lever has already released $45 million in state funds for port upgrades around the state to prepare for wind construction and support. 

At the other end of the state, there’s another option. From his office, Rob Holmlund, the Humboldt Bay Harbor District’s development director, has a wide view of pleasure craft bobbing at docks and the blighted remains of a once-thriving industrial zone. Those hundreds of acres of empty space are the port’s main attraction for the wind industry — it’s the second-largest natural bay in California. 

The harbor district has received more than $10 million from the Energy Commission to study proposals to transform much of the former industrial site to a sprawling, modern wind terminal. Large cranes would put the pieces of turbines together then tugs or ships would move the floating islands through the harbor and out to sea. The harbor also would maintain a fleet of boats to service the platforms. Humboldt officials intend to hire a contractor to operate the harbor as a green facility with electric vehicles and equipment.

“There’s old buildings everywhere and it’s a visual blight that will be cleaned up and revitalized,“ Holmlund said, adding that the harbor entrance will be dredged more regularly.

Another hurdle for ports: Federal law requires any vessel delivering goods or people from one U.S. site to another to be built, owned and primarily crewed by U.S. citizens. The number of compliant ships available to do the job is minuscule: A federal analysis found only seven craft that meet the requirements.

Even after overcoming the substantial hurdles of getting the wind-generated power to shore, it will be a monumental task to gather the electricity in substations and distribute it over transmission and distribution lines to users.

Grid experts refer to California’s far north as a transmission choke point. Humboldt County residents, accustomed to living behind the so-called Redwood Curtain and enduring periodic power cuts, refer to themselves as “the end of the line.”

“There is no way in hell that the current lines that we have available are going to be able to take on the additional load,” state Sen. Mike McGuire, a Democrat from Healdsburg, said in a legislative committee hearing in May.

The state’s grid manager estimates the build-out cost for additional high-voltage transmission capacity will be about $8 billion, part of a total of $30 billion needed to bring in out-of-state wind power and upgrade the overall grid capacity to meet California’s decarbonization goals.

Because of an eight-to-10-year lead time to construct transmission projects, the new power may wait at the shoreline while the lines and transmission plants to move it are put in place. 

“It requires significant new infrastructure. Not just wires, but substations and towers and transformers,” said Himali Parmar, an interconnection and transmission expert at the consulting firm ICF International, Inc. “There are massive goals to meet and transmission is a big part of the puzzle.”

However, Parmar added that California’s 20-year power planning horizon makes her optimistic that the challenge can be met.

‘A deep sense of foreboding’ for fishermen

Ken Bates’ office is idling at the dock at the foot of F Street in Eureka. The sleek fishing boat, most of which he built, is the workplace for Bates and his wife Linda, who make their livelihood on the Pacific, chasing fish for weeks or months at sea.

It’s a business with challenging economics, defined by narrow margins and a fluctuating resources. For commercial fishermen working the California coast, it’s been a long, slow decline. Pacific fisheries are highly managed to prevent overfishing. The salmon season was canceled this year statewide because of severely low populations, for example.

As Bates motors away from shore, he says he supports renewable energy, noting that his home is solar-powered. But he and others in his trade worry that commercial fishermen and women will be restricted while working in Humboldt’s 200-square-mile lease area. 

The wind projects “have the potential to adversely affect fishing and fishermen through exclusion and displacement from fishing grounds, increase costs and time at sea to reach new fishing grounds, loss of future fishing grounds and loss or disruption of harbor space and fishing infrastructure at ports,” according to a Coastal Commission staff report last year. 

Even if accommodations are made to allow some fishing, the fishermen and women worry that trawling boats might need to steer clear of the floating rigs to avoid snarling their nets in the networks of cables and lines. 

The state Department of Fish and Wildlife told the State Lands Commission that the impacts could be “potentially significant.”

“Offshore wind energy generation is a novel concept in California’s marine waters. Floating technologies are also still relatively new, and much is unknown about their environmental impacts,” the agency wrote.

“Adverse impacts to commercial and recreational fisheries could result from the loss of accessible fishing area, loss of fishing gear from snagging on Project infrastructure, navigational hazards, and/or degradation of habitat. The Project sites overlap with fishing grounds for several important fisheries.”

There’s also a potential flip side: Fish populations could increase if fishing declines, and the permanent structures in the sea could provide habitat for more and different species, marine biologists say.

Some project developers are discussing a system of compensation payments to fishermen, whose concern is about more than losing one fishing season.

Bates and other fishermen purchase “limited entry” permits that give them rights to work in waters not open to non-permit holders. The special permits are enormously valuable: A limited entry shrimp permit is worth $1 million, Bates said.

“If we can’t fish, that shrimp permit is worth nothing,” Bates said, peering through his boat’s spattered windscreen. “Those permits are the 401Ks for fishermen. They could lose their retirement, everything they’ve saved for.”

If fishermen are displaced from their traditional grounds they may move elsewhere and create localized overfishing, said Steve Scheiblauer, a longtime harbormaster in Santa Cruz and Monterey and now a marine fisheries consultant.

“There is a deep sense of foreboding,” he said, mentioning cascading effects through the region’s fishing-based economy. “There’s deckhands. Truck drivers. Can fish buyers in Eureka keep their doors open if they lose their main supply? A fish buyer is also the ice producer. Restaurants  and  tourists expect the fish. Commercial fishing is a link to the waterfront. We need to slow down and get some data.”

‘We have to attempt this’

Mike Wilson sips a beer at a dockside restaurant on the Humboldt harbor and squints into the setting sun. Wilson is a county supervisor and a member of the Coastal Commision, where he’s a reliable voice for the environment.

He’s sympathetic to skeptics of the promise of offshore wind, the sometimes-inflated job numbers and rosy promises of economic revival. But even with the unknowns about impacts to marine life and the prospect of industrialization of this remote coast, Wilson says offshore wind power must go forward. 

He starts from a simple baseline calculation: Climate change and its ever-increasing calamities. The pressing need to phase-out fossil fuels, and their mounting environmental harm, outweighs what is not yet known about the biological and environmental impacts of large-scale offshore wind, he said.

“I don’t have any comfort at all with the climate impacts we are seeing now,“ Wilson said. “All my discomfort (with the unknown) is outweighed by the urgency if we do nothing. We have to attempt this.”

The Coastal Commission’s Huckelbridge and other state scientists acknowledge some concern with not having enough time or budget to minutely analyze the potential impacts of offshore wind.

But they add that through “adaptive management” — the ability to adjust policies and requirements as conditions change — detrimental effects can be avoided or mitigated. And, they say, environmental conditions will be monitored throughout the lifespan of the wind farms. 

“We have our responsibility under the Coastal Act to assess impacts,” Huckelbridge said. “We understand the urgency and will move with all haste. But we will do our job. We owe that to California.”

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CalMatters.org is a nonprofit, nonpartisan media venture explaining California policies and politics.

Chester Lloyd Edeline passed away peacefully on Aug. 2, 2023, after a lengthy hard-fought battle with cancer. Born on April 3, 1945, to George and Margaret Edeline. Chet attended Eureka High School graduating in 1963. Between high school and college Chet worked as a commercial fisherman on the Silver Spray, which helped develop his love for the ocean. Chet went onto Humboldt State University where he received a degree in business management with a minor in real estate.

While attending HSU, Chet worked as a Special Deputy for the Humboldt County Sheriff’s Department, and Sears Roebuck Company. After graduating he moved onto Redwood Memorial Hospital working as the office manager and lastly was the financial manager at Humboldt Community Services District, where he retired after 25 years. Throughout all his years of employment he also worked his other passion of real estate prospecting. 

As a young adult Chet developed a love for diving. Chet was an avid and accomplished skin and scuba diver; he was considered by many to be one of the best locally, he also traveled the world seeking diving adventures. Chet’s name can be found on plaques throughout the county (Woodley Island Marina) with his record sized abalone, ling cod and scallops. NO abalone was safe when Chet was in his element, the ocean. Chet’s love for the ocean and diving lead him to Shelter Cove, the place he called home and paradise for the last 20 years of his life. Anyone who knew Chet knew his love for “The Cove,” and many were lucky enough to spend time with him there in one his custom homes.

In 1969 Chet married Alexis Carroll. Chet and Lex welcomed two boys during their marriage. Josh being born in 1975, and Adam in 1979. Even after Chet and Lex separated in the ‘90s they maintained a very close bond and friendship which lasted until his passing.

New Years Eve 2000, Chet married Debbie Yates. Chet and Debbie spent several years traveling and enjoying retired life at home in Shelter Cove. Chet and Deb did many road trips with their friends from the Mendocino coast to Arizona to visit family. Together they enjoyed watching their grandkids grow and attending their local sporting events.

Throughout Chet’s life he was always there for family and friends, especially his two boys, whether it be a shoulder to lean or simply seeking life advice Chet was always a calm, cool and collected ear.

Chet was preceded in death by his parents George and Margaret, his Sister Nadine Barton and wife Debbie Edeline.

He is survived by his sons, Josh and Adam Edeline; his ex-wife, Alexis Edeline, and granddaughters Taylor and Rayne Edeline; stepdaughter Triniti Ponnay, her husband Anthony and their three children, Irerly, Brailey and Grayson; Bill, Savannah, and Liam Robertson; sisters, Suzy Edeline, her two daughters Tami and Laura, Seil Stanbrough, her sons Hunter and Jake; brother in-law Michael Carroll; brother in-law Don “Doc” Barton, Leslie Barton; and cousins Ernest and Bonnie DeCarli. In addition to family, Chet is survived by many friends, way too many to individually list but each appreciated equally. 

Wow, what a ride!

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I recently spent a morning exploring the ruins of an ancient city that goes by the unlikely name of Antigonea. Situated in southern Albania near the border with Greece, on a hillside above the fertile Drinos river valley, Antigonea was, in its time, the short-lived capital of the long-lost state of Chaonia. It was founded by the Greek King Pyrrhus of Epirus (319-272 BC) whose several victories against the armies of early Rome were so costly that his name lives on in the phrase “Pyrrhic Victory” — a win that comes with heavy losses.

Naples National Archaeological Museum, CC BY 2.5, via Wikimedia Commons.

Queen Antigone

Pyrrhus became king of Epirus at age 13, but was deposed four years later. Subsequently he was sent to the court of Ptolemy I in Egypt, one of Alexander the Great’s four generals who divided up his empire after his death. (The Macedonian Ptolemaic dynasty ended with the death of Cleopatra 275 years later.) According to Greek historian Plutarch, Pyrrhus “was artful to absorb powerful people and to hate cowards, while being gentle in life.” So much so, apparently, that Ptolemy married him off to his step-daughter Antigone.

Antigone, now Queen of Epirus as well as being linked to the Ptolemaic dynasty, would bear Pyrrhus two children, but died the same year as the second one was born, probably in childbirth, a common occurrence then (and right up to the 19th century). In her honor, Pyrrhus named the city which he founded “Antigonea.”

Less than two hundred years later, Roman legions defeated the forces of Philip V, King of Macedonia, in a battle fought near Antigonea. Although the citizens of the city were neutral, a Roman general took revenge on 70 cities of Epirus by destroying them in 167 BC, enslaving their populations. In the ruins of Antigonea, archeologists have found a thick layer of black ash, evidence that the city was one of those razed to the ground. Thus ended the life of what had been a major economic and cultural center within the sphere of ancient Greece.

The Myth of Antigone

Pyhrrus’ wife, step-daughter of the first of the Ptolemy’s, is named after the heroine who first appears in the plays of the Greek playwright Sophocles around 441 BC. Antigone, the play, is one of a triad of his “Theban” tragedies, the others being Oedipus Rex and Oedipus at Colonus.

Antigone was the sister of two brothers, sons of Oedipus, who died fighting each other in a civil war. Creon, their uncle and new ruler, proclaims that one is to be honored with a state funeral, while the other will lie, unsanctified, on the battle field, to be eaten by wild animals.

Antigone will have none of this, and starts to give her brother a proper funeral, insisting to Creon (after she’s caught) that she is obeying a divine law which takes precedence over any law he makes.

It all ends in tragedy: before suffering her fate of being walled up in a cave , Antigone hangs herself, while her finance, Creon’s son, also commits suicide, as does Creon’s wife.

Creon, his spirit broken, finally regrets all the disaster he has caused. The last appearance of the chorus ties the whole mess together: Although the gods punish the proud, with punishment comes wisdom. And we’re left with a huge respect for Antigone, who listened to her own conscience rather than the king’s edict. So Antigone — Pyrrhus’ wife — bore one of the most honored names in ancient Greece.

Antigonea

The city is strategically sited, on a plateau overlooking the Drinos valley, about 40 minutes drive on windy one-lane road from Gjirokastra, Albania. The latter is now a tourist destination with its 13th century castle and old bazaar. (Not that old, if we’re being honest — most of the bazaar area was destroyed by fire 100-odd years ago.) I was the only visitor, although two archeological teams were at work, unshaded, in the 92-degree heat. I wandered from one end of the site to the other, marveling at what remains of two miles of limestone block defensive walls, originally 20 feet high.

Even in ruins, Antigonea today is a worthy tribute to a queen who lived over two millennia ago, and to the mythical heroine for whom she was named.

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Get ready for your daily dose of cuteness, Humboldt! 

In today’s episode of “Humboldt Outdoors,” local documentarian Ray Olson introduces us to Cory Moloney and Adam Torres, the guys behind Goats on the Mow, an Arcata-based business that uses goats for climate-friendly weed control and landscaping.

“They will eat just about everything,” Moloney said. “If you keep them in a spot long enough they will strip down the leaves off of a vine and a branch and, if you leave them even longer, they’ll strip down the branch they’ll take it down to nothing.”

Goats can even chew their way through blackberry brambles – thorns and all!

Moloney spent a number of years working in Humboldt’s cannabis industry before starting his goat-powered landscaping business. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in cannabis,” he tells Olson. “This is the most fulfilling work I’ve ever had.”

Click “play” the video above to learn more about the benefits of goat-powered landscaping.

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At the beginning of October, many local elected officials, planners and other community leaders in Humboldt County took on a simple but significant challenge: don’t get behind the wheel of a car for seven days. They were participating in the first National Week Without Driving, which was organized in our region by the Coalition for Responsible Transportation Priorities (CRTP).

The challenge was designed to give decision-makers personal insights into what life is like for the many people who can’t drive because of disability, age, or because they just can’t afford it.

Participants included Humboldt County Supervisor Natalie Arroyo, Rio Dell Mayor Debra Garnes, and Eureka City Councilmember Mario Fernandez, all of whom join host Colin Fiske of CRTP to reflect on their experiences.

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A sense of loss overwhelmed me when I learned that Daly’s Department Store was closing its doors after 100 years. For some reason, I have always felt that I could dash in there and do a little shopping on my trips back home to Humboldt County. Eureka’s own department store with its huge plate glass display windows has played an important part in my life and in the lives of many others. It is sad to think of it being gone. I suspect it is another victim of the shopping malls.

My first memory of Daly’s Department Store is a shopping trip with my mother and younger sister. I must have been about eight years old and was still a little uncertain which department store was which — J.C. Penney or Daly’s. But this was definitely Daly’s — right across F Street from the Montgomery Ward store and the two big dime stores — Kress and Woolworth’s. Toward Fifth Street on the Daly’s side of the street were Matthew’s Music House, the Bon Boniere, and Arthur Johnson’s Menswear.

In the 1930s, a trip “downtown” was a rare occasion. We wore our best clothes and took along our best manners. It was a time when ladies always wore a nice dress and coat, silk stockings, dress shoes, and a hat and gloves. We entered the big double plate-glass doors on F Street and were dazzled by the gleaming glass display cases of the Center Aisle. These cases held gorgeous costume jewelry and fabulous perfumes and makeup. To our right were the Hosiery and Shoe Departments, and behind the Shoe Department was the Girl’s Department with racks of beautiful dresses, sweaters and skirts. I vaguely remember tiny dressing rooms at each corner of this department.

Mother usually made our clothes, but this time she decided to buy ready-made dresses for us. My little sister’s dress was a high-waisted, puffed-sleeved dress with a full circle skirt that whirled out beautifully when she spun around in circles. The hem was trimmed with two rows of braid, and the fabric was a cotton print of tiny flowers. She loved this dress so much, she saved it, even after the skirt fabric was faded and worn and split across the front from many washings and wearings. It probably cost around $3.98 plus tax.

I shall never forget the dress I got that day. It was a lovely shade of powder blue with just a hint of turquoise. The skirt was separate from the top and had pleats all the way around. The top was a short-sleeved jacket with big buttons marching down the front. It cost $4.98 plus three percent California State sales tax. This was a great deal of money at that time to spend on a child’s dress which might be outgrown in a month or a year. I wore that dress every chance I had. I wore it to shreds. My mother undoubtedly got her money’s worth from these purchases.

When we finished shopping, we went across the street to one of the dime stores where we were each allowed to choose 10 cents worth of candy at one of the candy counters with big covered glass displays of all kinds of confections-gum drops, lemon drops, round chocolates covered with white sprinkles called dragées, rocky road, licorice, chocolate stars, horehound drops, red and white striped peppermints, pastel pink, white and green tea mints-a veritable treasure-trove of goodies to pick from. I always chose chocolate stars.

On other shopping trips downtown, we went directly to the Yardage Department at Daly’s. On these trips, we turned to the left of the glittering Center Aisle, and walked past the Ladies Glove Department to Patterns and Yardage. Beyond the tables of fabrics, near the back of the store, were the Bedding and Linen and Houseware Departments.

I loved to look at all the fabrics and smell their newness. I imagined what I would make from each one. Sometimes Mother would let me choose a quarter of a yard of this or a quarter of a yard of that to sew new clothes for my Shirley Temple doll. I learned to use my mother’s sewing machine when I was seven years old by turning the wheel by hand. She would not let me use the electric control for fear I might sew my fingers! At that time, I longed to be a fashion designer and make beautiful clothing.

As a child, I never dreamed that I might one day work in this store with all its wonderful merchandise.

I don’t think I ever explored the departments on the second floor until I was in high school. These departments were reached by the wide staircase or the elevator at the rear of the store, leading directly from the Center Aisle. There was a Beauty Salon, too, tucked away on the landing where the staircase turned to go up to Ladies Dresses, Coats, Hats, Sportswear, and Lingerie. The office and employee’s lunch room and coat room were up there, too. The Men’s and Boy’s Departments were reached by a short ramp between the wrapping desk and the elevator. It was on another level, due to the slope of Fourth Street at that point.

Once in a while as teens, my sisters and I were allowed to ride the city bus down J Street to Fifth and F streets to do our own shopping. Bus fare was five cents. Mother had a charge account at Daly’s, and on special occasions we were allowed to charge something “on approval”-meaning that we could take it back if our mother didn’t approve of our purchase. In those days, Daly’s had a delivery service and would send things out to your house, so shoppers didn’t have to carry a lot of packages around. Both hands were freed to do more shopping!

My older sister went to work in the office right out of junior college, and continued until after her marriage and the birth of her first son. She must have been instrumental in getting me a job there one Christmas season at the wrapping desk that was tucked under the stairs. This must have been the Christmas of 1944, as I had just turned 17. My father died that Christmas, and my sisters and I felt we needed to help our mother as much as possible.

The other wrapping desk girls and I worked at a long table, wrapping gifts with double sheets of white tissue paper and spools of ribbed ribbon in a rainbow of colors. We wrapped double rows of ribbon in square or diagonal patterns, and topped them off with curly poodle dog bows made of long lengths of the ribbon that were curled with the sharp edge of a scissors.

One day when the Christmas season was over, I showed up for work, not knowing I wasn’t supposed to be there. I had punched in on the time clock as usual. Charlie Daly came down to the wrapping desk from his office on the second floor and fixed me with a stem look. He usually cleared his throat before speaking to any of the people who worked there, and this time was no exception. I’m not sure who felt worse in this situation, he or I, especially when years later I found out he had gone to Eureka High School with my mother!

“Hammph,” he said. “Didn’t your sister tell you not to come in to work today?”

DIDN’T MY SISTER WHAT? screamed my thoughts inside my head!

“N-no, she didn’t,” I managed to stammer, twisting my clammy hands together and staring at the polished toes of his shoes, not knowing what to do. Sometimes it is truly painful to be young and unworldly. My sister might have forgotten to tell me, or she might have felt she couldn’t tell me such an awful thing.

The happy outcome of this was that Tillie Atwell, the office manager, took me under her wing, tested my change-making ability, and put me to work on the “tubes” — an invention designed to speed up service, eliminate theft, and drive cashiers crazy.

Pneumatic tubes serpentined to and from all the departments in the store, ending in the office where they opened onto a chute into two troughs on a long wooden table. There was room for four cashiers — two on each side. Our metal tills were designed to fit securely in a second row of troughs, one on each side of the tube troughs.

Each cashier started with fifty dollars in change in a till that was made up ahead of time, and locked and stored in the safe until a cashier needed it. When she received her till, she unlocked it, and it was her responsibility to count that till before she started using it and to balance it at the end of the day. When she went to lunch, or left her till for any reason, she locked it and kept the key. If it was short by more than a few cents, I think the shortage came out of her pay. We always balanced within a few cents. By that time the minimum wage was 50 cents an hour.

The store opened at 10 a.m., but employees were there by 9:45. We closed at 5:30, with an hour for lunch and two fifteen minute breaks according to the law — one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Lunches were in three shifts-the first at 11 a.m. — too early, in my estimation. As the extra help, I nearly always had to take that time. Then the whole afternoon dragged interminably. Each day, one of the cashiers had to stay on to take late sales and answer the switchboard while the others balanced their money and ran a tape of their sales slips. The late cashier then had to stay later to balance out.

Our pay was given to us in cash in small manila pay envelopes with little pay slips attached to them. When I went back to school at Humboldt State and could only work Saturdays, my pay for one day’s work was about $3.60, after taxes.

As sales were made throughout the store, the clerks would fill out sales slips, adding the 3 percent California State sales tax that was already figured out for them on a chart in each sales book. They made a note at the top of the sales slip of the amount of money paid, folded the slip and its carbon copy with the money into a cannister about eight inches long and three inches in diameter, and sent it on its way through the pneumatic system to us-the cashiers.

Once it reached the office, it announced its arrival by banging loudly as it spewed out the vacuum system, slid down the incline and landed in front of us. Whoever was closest or quickest grabbed it, twisted it open, and spilled the contents onto the narrow work space in front of the tills. We counted the money, checking to see if it agreed with the amount the clerk had filled in. If it didn’t agree, we phoned the clerk and returned the cannister intact for him or her to correct. Then when it came back, we made the change, kept the original sales slip for our till, and folded the carbon copy with the change back into the little cylinder and returned it to the department. The return vacuum tubes were in a double row of six, between and a little above us — 12 in all, numbered for each department. The cannisters had the department numbers on them too.

An additional tube had been added at the outside end of the rack of tubes, after the original system was installed. It was number thirteen-Boys’ Department-and was a little hard to reach if you happened to be on the switchboard, or sitting across from the switchboard that day. Number thirteen always made a high-pitched whistling noise whenever it was in use. We always knew when we were dealing with the Boys’ Department, long before the cannister arrived.

Once in a while we would receive a fifty-dollar bill, on more rare occasions, a one hundred-dollar bill. The average sales per till per day were about six or seven hundred dollars. During a Christmas season, I can remember taking in a little over one thousand dollars on very busy days. One time, someone was passing counterfeit twenty-dollar bills. We all got a lesson on how to identify them, and the whole office was in a turmoil for several days.

Cashiers also ran the switchboard, a quaint relic of the Victorian Age, or so it seems now in these electronic times. Then we thought it was a state-of-the-art system, and we all liked to work on the switchboard. But you must remember this was in the days of one telephone to a household, if people were lucky enough to have a telephone, and two or four party lines on many of those.

All the telephones in the store were routed through this board. Small metal-lined holes connected to wires inside the board. Two little lights, one red and one white were under each hole. The names of the departments and the people in the store with private telephones were fastened under their proper holes. These were Office Manager Tillie Atwell and Credit Manager Gladys Meline, among other telephones in the main office, and the Dalys —John S., Jack F., Cornelius D. and Charles.

There were four or five outside lines on the switchboard, and as the lights came on indicating an incoming call, the switchboard operator would plug a fabric-covered snake-like line into that hole, open the “key” and say in a sweet, musical voice,

“Good morning (or afternoon), Daly Brothers.”

Then she would bring up the corresponding cord and plug it into the department requested, close the key, and ring the phone. If she was not careful, she might push the key the wrong way, and ring in somebody’s ear — a no-no!

Some sales were not cash sales. Many people had charge accounts. When a charge sale came winging to us in one of the little cannisters, we had to call out the customer’s name loud and clear to Gladys Meline, the credit manager, whose desk was adjacent to the tube system. She would then okay it, or not. Other people in the office were qualified to okay charges if she was out or busy with a customer. Sometimes she would have to talk to customers on the telephone first, requesting that they please come to the office and pay a little on their bills before charging any more. Then she would okay a charge.

Gladys had a very difficult job and did it perfectly. Not only was she responsible for all the charge accounts at the store and for treating the customers tactfully and carefully, she had to keep four giddy young girls in line on the tubes. Not an easy task.

When things were slow, we liked to talk to pass the time. This was forbidden. It was not business-like. If we had no change to make, we must busy ourselves with making sure all our charge slips were filed in alphabetical order. At billing time, we were put to work stuffing envelopes with statements and fliers for perfume or lingerie. Then, if we STILL had nothing to do, we had to go through stacks of old cash sales slips to make sure a charge slip had not been accidentally included in the stack. BORING! BORING! BORING! But one day I found one! I actually found a charge slip that had been inadvertently filed with the cash slips. I don’t remember anyone else ever finding one. It seemed to make it all worthwhile somehow.

Sometimes when I came in on a Saturday, I was given the task of addressing all the statements with a hand-cranked machine. Names and address of charge customers were stenciled with a ribbonless typewriter on small cards with silkscreen-like centers. The little silk-screens had to be stacked so they would feed into the machine, along with the statements. Some sort of ink-rolling mechanism picked up the ink, spread it across the silk-screen and then printed it on the statement paper as I turned the crank. This was a long, laborious hand process but faster than typing each statement individually. It usually took the better part of a Saturday to do all the addresses. Now a computer would do that in minutes.

I continued to work at Daly Brothers through four years of college at Humboldt State, every Saturday, every school holiday and every summer vacation, except one summer that I spent working at Benbow Inn, near Richardson’s Grove. Usually I spent my lunch hour in the lunchroom reading and eating a cheese sandwich and apple that I brought from home to save money, because I saw too many things I wanted to buy in the store. Even with my ten percent store discount, less than four dollars a day didn’t go far.

A 1946 Daly’s newspaper ad encouraged women to purchase hats.

In 1947, a French designer decided women needed a new look and dropped hemlines to mid-calf. All my short, material-conserving wartime skirts were suddenly out-of-date! For some strange reason, short skirts actually looked indecent. The huge sloppy wartime sweaters that revealed six inches of pleated skirt coming to just above the knees were replaced by short formfitting sweaters and long straight skirts that were difficult to walk in, even with short slits up the sides, front, or back. Dresses had skirts with yards and yards of material. Brown and white saddle shoes and bobby-sox gave way to white buck saddle shoes and ankle socks rolled down to show anklebone.

Even my good wool coat was too short. I cut the coat off to make a jacket, but it looked like a coat-cut-off-to-make-a-jacket. I was forced by fashion to buy a new-look coat on my meager earnings, paying for it a little at a time. I did manage to buy one good long, wool, straight, ankle-length skirt and two short sweaters.

The new coat was black wool gabardine and cost eighty dollars. Think how many Saturdays I had to work to pay for it! Five months of Saturdays, and more. The coat had a scalloped yoke in the front and back, from which flowed princess-style gores that flared out below the waist into a huge skirt. It wasn’t even a warm coat, but it was in fashion. I’m not sure if I was allowed to charge it and just turn my pay envelope back to the store each week, or if I put it on layaway.

I do remember when I finally wore my beautiful new black coat to work, I hung it carefully on the employees’ coat rack with dozens of similar coats. When it was time to go home. my coat was gone. Someone had taken it, thinking it hers. As I was fighting tears, the girl who took it came back into the coat room after realizing her mistake. What a relief it was to get that coat back!

When I was starting my junior year at Humboldt State, the store offered me a full-time job at the fabulous salary of one hundred dollars a month! I was tempted to take it because I was tired of scraping by with only two sweaters and one skirt to my name. But I decided to finish my education, and in another two years graduated with a teaching credential and was able to earn three hundred dollars a month.

Daly Brothers was very good to work around my schedule. I had the opportunity to know some wonderful people. Tillie Atwell was a mother to everyone-her own large family and the “store family,” as well as being a very sharp, astute businesswoman and accountant. Gladys Meline. with her red hair and strict rules, is a legend in the store. Agnes did the billing on a huge dinosaur of a billing machine. I’m sorry I can’t think of her last name. Francis King worked in the office during that time. We discovered that we were cousins of the same cousin — though we are not related to each other. I still hear from her at Christmas. Pat Farrar was a cashier. I can’t remember the names of the other cashiers, except one whose last name was Mackle. Ella Marie Fanucchi also worked in the office. I think she was in charge of the few cash registers scattered throughout the store in areas that were not convenient to the tube system. Another girl, whose name was Holly or Polly something, worked in the office to help her husband pay off a twenty-five thousand dollar debt on his logging truck. Something had happened to the truck, and he still owed that much money on it. This was a huge sum, when the minimum wage was fifty cents an hour, but they both worked hard and paid it off.

Tillie’s daughter, Anita Atwell, worked in sales. Santina “Sandy” Del Grande worked in the Center Aisle, Impeccably dressed, with perfect nails, hair and makeup, and high heels. I could never understand how she could stand there hour after hour in heels. Meta Huddleson worked in Lingerie. My older sister, Pat Roberts, worked in the office before she started her family and after her boys were old enough to go to school. My younger sister, Betty Olsen, worked in the Beauty Salon, after graduating from Beauty College. And my sister-in-law, Pat Gipson, worked in sportswear.

Although the noise of the “tubes” nearly drove me to distraction at times, I shall always appreciate having had the opportunity to work at Daly’s and make a little extra money while going to school. The closing of this store is like the closing of another era — a time gone the way of that Victorian switchboard.

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The story above was originally printed in the Summer 1996 issue of the Humboldt Historian, a journal of the Humboldt County Historical Society. It is reprinted here with permission. The Humboldt County Historical Society is a nonprofit organization devoted to archiving, preserving and sharing Humboldt County’s rich history. You can become a member and receive a year’s worth of new issues of The Humboldt Historian at this link.

Linda Ann (Filippini) Swinney, age 78, passed away the morning of September 29, 2023 from Alzheimer’s Disease. She was a native of Hughson, California. After graduating from high school , she attended Chico State College. After moving to Arcata she was employed as a Laboratory Assistant at the Student Health Center at HSU.

Linda had an outgoing personality and enjoyed being around people. She volunteered at the Hospice Shop in Arcata, the Humboldt Sponsors and the Arcata Historical Sites Society. Her love of art and her gift of telling stories made her an entertaining guest and Friend whether she was at a party or a flea market.

Linda was preceded in death by her parents, Ernest and Emma Filippini, and her nephew, Gregory Gilchrist. She is survived by her husband of 23 years, O’Rourk Swinney; her daughter, Sarah Garrity Schiek and Sarah’s husband, Paul Schiek, and their daughter,  Rose; her sister, Esther Gilchrist and her husband, Neil; and Sarah’s father, Michael Garrity, and his family.

Linda’s family would especially like to thank all of Linda’s caregivers for their kindness and loving care, which was much appreciated. A special thanks also goes out to Hospice of Humboldt for their care and assistance.

Her friends and family are invited to a celebration of Linda’s life that will be held on October 28 from 2 to 5 p.m. at the View Room in the Jacoby Storehouse. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to your favorite charity.

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