In memoriam, Jim Todd 1935-2025

Volunteers working at Kah Tai Lagoon Nature Park in 2016. Jim Todd is second from right.

 

Jim Todd passed away peacefully early in the morning of Oct. 9th, 2025. He was 90 years old and had been a deeply committed PT community member for the last 30 years.

It is impossible to do justice to Jim Todd in a few paragraphs, but he was quite the activist. A retired PhD organic chemist, he routinely attended City Council meetings for decades. He helped develop and pass Ordinance 2865, the so-called ‘dog poop’ ordinance in 2004. He was a member of the Kah Tai Alliance in the early 2000s and singlehandedly collected over 1600 signatures on a petition to protect the park from development. In 2013 he joined nine other supporters to travel to Olympia and speak to RCO about the flawed attempt to develop Kah Tai. Jim used our public library frequently, helped with public survey efforts and became an effective proponent for quiet space in the library. He was very involved in the ‘Be Fair Vote No’ campaign to stop the replacement of the library annex in 2013 when the city had more critical needs to address. He unsuccessfully applied for the library advisory board at that time.

Jim engaged in the failed attempt at a parks plan update in 2011 which was sidelined by the contention over Kah Tai and the effort to develop a county-wide MPD (Metropolitan Park District). He remained engaged in the successful parks plan effort in 2014, and joined the parks board soon after the plan was passed in March 2014. He remained on the board and participated in a PRTTAB (Parks, Recreation, Trees & Trails Advisory Board) meeting two days before the heart attack that led to his death at age 90.

Jim had not changed his quirky mannerisms, stories, or frugality over the years, but they may have become less tolerable to his friends in his last decades. What you saw was what you got, over and over and over. The jokes and nicknames that he gave people were one of his trademarks of his friendships with fellow community members. You probably heard the same ones, too.

His values, especially his environmentalism, were predictable and very kind to the earth. We never knew anyone else who had as light an energy footprint on this planet. He lived what he so strongly believed and felt in his heart.

Over the last decades you might have noticed him on his daily afternoon hikes thru our town. He enjoyed stopping and visiting with all that he saw on these walking travels on our streets and in our parks. He was an avid birdwatcher and stargazer. He loved to do these activities with friends and local groups and he will be missed in future local gatherings of these enthusiasts. He always claimed to be a visitor from the star Arcturus and those of us that knew him well weren’t sure.

Perhaps Jim’s most coveted persona was as the self-described Garbage Bear. Jim participated especially enthusiastically at any public event that might provide snacks.

In the early spring there will be a celebration of his life on our local ferry to take his cremated remains out to Admiralty Inlet and we invite his friends to come and share stories and send him on his way. If you would like to be contacted to come and be a part of his memorial please email kahtaifriends@gmail.com and we will reach out to you when it is planned.

A brief history of Kah Tai

 

The Adopt A Park group for Kah Tai Lagoon Nature Park is now called Rainshadow Bird Alliance. While all the name change procedures are underway, the chapter website functions under both names, Admiralty Audubon and Rainshadow Bird Alliance. An excellent summary of Kah Tai's history is now posted here:

https://www.admiraltyaudubon.org/kah-tai-nature-park-updates

Gadwalls in Kah Tai Lagoon

Kah Tai Park Is For The Birds

Kah Tai Lagoon Nature Park, courtesy Craig Wester

Kah Tai Park Is For The Birds:

How a controversy became a legacy

16 August 2023, 5:30pm
Jeanette Best Gallery

presentation by Rick Jahnke
Admiralty Audubon President

Kah Tai (qatáy) has weathered controversy and misguided attempts at development since the late 1800s, including the dumping of 231,000 cubic yards of dredge spoil in 1963. In 1980, an effort by many Port Townsend residents to protect the area created a Land and Water Conservation Fund park dedicated in perpetuity to wildlife habitat, with compatible passive recreation. More than 180 bird species have been recorded at Kah Tai as the habitat planted by humans, birds and the wind matures into woodlands, grasslands and wetlands. 

The talk will present aspects of the physical, political, legal and ecological evolution of the lagoon and created uplands as they have transitioned from dredge spoil to beautiful habitat that attracts and supports a wide variety of birds and other wildlife.  It will highlight the role of community involvement in the park development and the wildlife that can now be seen and end with a few slides on future challenges for the park.

“And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?”

Trumpeters above Kah Tai

 courtesy James Holb

The conflicting visions of what Kah Tai should be may resolve with time, but movement is glacial. So many members of our community still do not understand the LWCF protections for this park. When the public was surveyed in preparation for a 2020 parks plan update, we still heard, “Make a trail all the way around the lagoon at the water’s edge.” For many, the focus is always, all about people. But the park is not about people. It is, in the words of the grant that funded its creation, for “wildlife habitat, with compatible passive recreation”. Habitat first, human access second. And human access does not include water access or even access to all parts of the park. This park is for the birds and other wildlife. And human access must have minimal impact, ie., be passive.

This December, we have had the pleasure of observing Trumpeter swans on the lagoon. Trumpeters are very cautious and will fly with the least provocation. Yet this month, we’ve had recurring visits of a varied cluster of Trumpeters, usually one adult and three or four juveniles. Trumpeters winter in the fields mid-county but have come to the lagoon with some regularity this winter.

This interminable pandemic year has found us all outside, trying to be safe, trying to find some balance in an off-balance world. The benefits of the Japanese concept of shinrin yoku, or forest bathing, are undeniable. Levels of the stress hormone cortisol decrease while the levels of oxytocin increase just by being in nature.

From the late Mary Oliver:

The Swan

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

We are all citizens of qatáy

The name ‘Kah Tai’ has been a subject of debate in terms of authenticity, origin and even spelling and pronunciation. It is in reality a phonetic representation of the S’Klallam name for where we live. The S’Klallam language was not rendered into a written alphabet until 1992. That alphabet spells the name ‘qatáy’ and is pronounced as most of us already do. The first syllable does not have a long 'i' vowel sound, but an 'ah' sound, with the accent on the second syllable, which does have a long 'i' sound. It does not sound like 'mai tai'.

We are all citizens of qatáy. Our lagoon and park are the southern expression of qatáy Valley, altered with dredge spoils in the 1960s but with the intervention of time and nature and more than a little help from friends, a nature park, protected in perpetuity by the grant that provided for the park’s creation.

Kah Tai is now one of 18 sites on the Chetzemoka (čičməhán) Interpretive Trail. The Jamestown S'Klallam, Port Gamble S'Klallam, Lower Elwha Klallam Tribes and surrounding communities joined together for the grand opening and dedication of the Chetzemoka (čičməhán) Trail on 29 June 2019.

The Chetzemoka (čičməhán) Trail is a joint endeavor of the Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe and the Native Connections Action Group, Quimper Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. The historic sites selected by the Tribe are connected by a trail to increase the visibility of the S'Klallam history in qatáy (Port Townsend), their traditional territory. More information can be found on the Jamestown S’Klallam website: http://www.tribalmuseum.jamestowntribe.org/hsg/exhibits/chetzemokatrail/ct_menu.php.

Tree full of wings

Great Blue Herons have long been a favorite bird to watch at Kah Tai, and when the resident few hunted along the perimeter during nesting season, they flapped away to some undefined roost. This year has been different, profoundly so. We had an inkling when we watched six adults fly in near-formation across the lagoon this spring.

And then the nesting reports started. The birds themselves announce the location of their rookery, as do the occupants of satellite nests. There are at least four nests spotted thus far. One of the easiest to observe has nurtured four nestlings, awkward pterodactyls that they are when they cannot fly. But the four are almost ready, flapping and stretching their fully feathered wings to go hunting with their parents.

Their parents will be so relieved. As the youngsters have grown, the parents have diminished. Imagine catching enough prey to feed four beaks this size. The adults are thin and worn, as parents everywhere will understand.

The human neighbors have been tolerant, given that a nest of young herons can sound a lot like a murder going on somewhere nearby when they get to talking in their youngster voices. Great Blue Herons are a priority species in our state, and their rookeries are protected.

Thanks to Bev McNeil and David Gluckman for sharing their photographs.

Spring again at Kah Tai

Thirteen goslings on Kah Tai Lagoon, 2016. Courtesy Artemis Celt.

The monthly workparty at Kah Tai focused on invasives. The particular invasives being wrestled were tiny hollies and spurge laurels in the woodland, found in abundance at the bases of trees, byproducts of bird digestion of the fruits of hollies and spurge laurel. The best way to pull a tough two inch plant with a five inch root is sitting on a garden stool with a pair of needlenose pliers.

While concentrating on the seedlings, it suddenly seemed I wasn't the only presence in the woodland. Sitting on my stool, I looked west and a few yards away was a head atop the flexing neck of a Canada Goose. Our eyes were at about the same height but the big bird didn't see me. He or she moved slowly toward the lagoon edge and another goose head came in to view a few feet behind. And there between the two adults, a flock of little goslings scurried along. Their parents were marching them from their nesting site to the water with cautious deliberation.

The lead goose reached the trail that runs along the southern edge of the lagoon and the procession paused while both directions on the trail were studied for danger, for people on foot or bicycle, for dogs. The lead goose determined that the trail was safe, and the family hurried across the trail and into the lagoon.

Shortly after they launched, a human family passed by on the trail, two small girls in tow.

'Mommy, look!' The goose family at the edge of the lagoon were admired by the human family.

A minute or two later, a group of four human teenagers passed in the other direction.

'Look! Goslings!'

The level of enthusiasm from the little kids was expected, but who knew teenagers would think goslings were cool?

And then, back to the needlenose and pulling minute invasive seedlings. Among the invasives, much good news. Seedlings of serviceberry, snowberry, thimbleberry, osoberry, taking a stand, all planted by birds as indiscriminately as the invasives were. But as the native berry sources mature, the birds will be less likely to feed on holly and spurge and more likely to continue the cycle with native species. More native understory, fewer invasives.

In the open areas of the southern park, the tall mahonia has burst into dominance, suddenly competing successfully with invasive blackberry, with bright yellow blossom heads peering through blackberry canes. The nootka rose has been pushing back against the blackberry for several years and it now has another native comrade in arms. We might, actually, be winning this particular battle for Kah Tai.

Kah Tai in September, 2016

Kah Tai has its share of challenges, most arising from human misbehavior. Of course, Kah Tai exists because of human misbehavior - the blocking of a tidally flushed estuary with 231,000 cubic yards of sandy dredge spoil wasn't an accident. And yet those spoils have managed, with time and succession and a little help, to develop a healthy ecosystem that has hosted 152 species of birds at last count.

Occasionally humans can be found camping in the woodland, especially problematic during the dry summer months. But here at the beginning of September, the park received the gift of an early autumn rain, and the occasional smoker in the trees is less likely to burn the whole place down. The birds can flee now as the fledglings are all flight-worthy in September, but in the early summer, the young are always most at risk.

Trees can't flee. They endure or die and when we are fortunate, they thrive. Madrone, maple, willow, poplar, bitter cherry, all maturing in the park. The native madrone is mostly faring well at Kah Tai. The samsaras of vine maple declare another successful year. Willows of indeterminate species cluster along the banks and the stately but non-native poplars line the park's southern boundary and still populate the lagoon edge. Who knew that willows intermingled so readily that even the botanical experts have a time of it trying to sort out their species?

No problem figuring out native bitter cherry, though. The bark is distinctive and the bitter fruit is popular with the feathered crowd.

Kah Tai, poised for spring

Photos are from late February 2016, courtesy Artemis Celt. March has brought red-flowering currant, Indian plum, tall Oregon grape in bloom. The park benefited in February from another Urban Forestry Restoration Project work crew, six young and enthusiastic Washington Conservation Corps workers who spent the better part of two weeks removing spurge laurel, English holly and English ivy plants from the woodland. Every hour contributed helps get the invasives under control. 

There are never enough volunteers, and volunteers get less respect than they should for their heroic efforts here. Volunteers spend more time picking up trash than pulling invasives. When homeless encampments are abandoned, all the detritus remains, and little is done about that detritus except what is done by volunteers. 

Still, the park is resilient and nature moves gracefully foward into another season. The Ruddy Duck males are sporting their brightest of blue bills. Male Wigeons display iridescent green face patches. A Merlin flies along the trail. Common Redpolls, not at all common here and a first sighting in the park, are spotted in the alders along the trail, busily raiding the seed cones. If only the humans would be as appreciative and respectful of the park as the birds are.

the colors of late autumn

English hawthorn, Crategus laevigata

common privet, Ligustrum vulgare

Washington hawthorn, Crategus phaenopyrum

Kah Tai is settling in for the winter, and berries seem to be everywhere. Although none of those pictured here are native species, all provide some food value for wildlife. We continue to plant natives but many are too immature to fruit. Look for blue elderberry and evergreen huckleberry to produce in the not too distant future.

Above are two non-native hawthorns and a privet. That Washington hawthorn is named after the 'other' Washington, first noted in cultivation in the 1700s in the Washington DC area.

The work continues to minimize the spread of invasive English holly and English ivy in the park. Both species are so successful that they crowd out the native understory. Both produce berries of interest to birds and so proliferate beneath the trees where birds perch. Funny how passage through a bird's gut can determine the location of the next generation of invasives. 

fire at a distance

all photos courtesy Artemis Celt

 A winter just a couple of degrees Fahrenheit too warm led to torrential winter rains that should have been snow in our part of the Olympic Mountain watershed. Three percent of normal snowpack in our watershed when spring arrived resulted in water rationing - voluntary so far, but possible to be enforced.

Our water supply is surface water, taken from the Big and Little Quilcene Rivers through a complex calculation, with one simple rule: if the flow is lower than 27 cubic feet per second, we cannot withdraw water.

The Olympic National Forest is in significant part temperate rain forest, in the westside valleys of the Quinault, Queets, Hoh and Bogachiel Rivers. You don't get fires in a rainforest. But this year, you do. Relatively containable fires are burning in the Olympics.

East of the Cascades, hell has broken loose. Another year of drought and the tinder is ready. The beautiful landscape is being transformed in unimaginable ways.

If there's an upside to fires, it's the sunsets for those just distant enough not to suffer the particulates. Enjoying such sunsets feels guilty, because they mean someone is suffering, even if the fire is in a remote area. Wildlife always suffers. We forget that when humans are not present, life still goes on for other species. Human suffering always takes precedence, and it isn't at all certain that it should. There is so much more to this world than us.

Nonetheless, beautiful sunsets. Top left is smoke from the fires in the Olympics around 3 August. Next photo down is those mudflats we hadn't seen in quite some time, reflecting that fiery sunset. And bottom photo is a sunset in mid-August, courtesy of Eastern Washington's calamity.

The drought has also been good for the appearance of shorebirds at Kah Tai. The two summers that were part of Admiralty Audubon's Kah Tai Bird Survey (2010 and 2011) were both unusually wet, and few shore birds were reported because there were no mudflats. This year has hit the shore bird bonus board, while elsewhere, others pay the price.

a few thousand words' worth

Who needs words for a May evening at Kah Tai?

waiting for spring

Kah Tai, January 2015, © Artemis Celt.

Although the snowpack isn't what we hope for this time of year, we've had plenty of rain. The lagoon is full and the mudflats have disappeared. Instead of Yellowlegs and Sandpipers in the shallows, we find Buffleheads and Mergansers tucked in among the ever-present Mallards. Two Merganser females (Red-Breasted and Common) allowed photos to document their presence. Coots, Ruddy Ducks, grebes, herons, wigeons, and quite an array of upland birds can be seen, including a Scrub Jay spotted just across the street from the entrance to the park.

Mallards are a personal favorite, simply because they are so personable. They are Kah Tai's best salesmen, or salesbirds; city birds, approachable, vocal and always willing to accomodate a snack. They draw small children and elderly folks to sit on the benches along the edge, to appreciate that the park is here in the middle of town where we all have access. Mallards make the case for the average non-birding people walking through the park, quacking them in to discover Mergansers and Buffleheads and Ruddy Ducks, to witness passerine migrations, to hear the beautiful scream of a Red-tailed Hawk circling above.

In our first winter here, a Snow Goose appeared at the lagoon. She'd apparently missed the migration with her flock, whether due to injury, illness, or inattentiveness she never indicated. The resident Mallards took her in; she joined them in greeting humans in her foreign tongue, and she spent a fine winter being an odd Mallard. In the spring, she was gone.

resting place

Birds and The Boat, September 2014. © Artemis Celt

There's a boat at the lagoon, even though boats are not allowed on the lagoon according to the Shoreline Master Program. The boat looks comfortable, settled in, as though it belongs. The birds love it. 

I'd heard rumors of how the boat ended up there and decided to ask someone who knew, unequivocally, how it appeared. Here, verbatim, is the story.

"Sometime during the last century (not this one, the last one) a couple of hippies moved to PT in search of peace and love. They settled in on the hillside above Kah Tai Lagoon. Their first visitors were a couple from even further up the hill, who had arrived the year before. Turned out that they (the 2nd couple. no, the first couple. I mean the old timers, not the newcomers) had a venerable old wooden boat in their basement that needed a new home (they were not boat people). The very Boat. They all joined hands, sang a few rounds of Jambalaya, (or We Shall Overcome, or something) and moved the Boat to the driveway of couple number 2 (I mean the newcomers) where it served, upside down, for 225 years (that might be a misprint) as a cheap but worthy shelter for all manner of treasure and junk.

 

Time passed, the Battle of Kah Tai Lagoon was waged and won, dreams came and went, people were born and people died. Peace and love were found in moderation, fitting and sufficient for the times. The Boat endured, unaffected by all that.

 

When Ms Newcomer died, late in that century of which I speak, friends and acquaintances gathered on the hillside to eat and drink and celebrate. In a flash of inspiration, the entire party picked up The Boat, loaded with the spirit of Ms Newcomer, and carried it lovingly to the edge of the Lagoon, and pushed it from the shore, to find its resting place amongst the reeds. There is nothing more to tell."

August at Kah Tai

courtesy Artemis Celt

On the walls of the restroom building at Kah Tai is a new announcement from the City - public notice of an upcoming Comprehensive Plan amendment that has been more than three years in the making. When proposed in 2011, it was intended to call attention to Kah Tai's special but not-quite-official status as a nature park. At that time, Kah Tai's continued intact existence was uncertain, under threat of commercial development, its history misplaced and forgotten.

The proposed amendment was tabled while the conflicts were resolved. Now all parties agree to the park's status, and the proposed final language for the amendment is declarative, thorough and stringent.

A nature park in the middle of a town and next to a transit hub has many challenges. But commercial development is no longer one of those challenges. When people have nowhere else to go, the park bears the burden of their needs. But homeless incursions cause little lasting harm, a different magnitude of damage than bulldozers and concrete would impart.

And the work of nature proceeds. Insects harvest Grindelia in bloom. Canada Geese honk their young into training flights. Shorebirds mine the mudflats and shallows as a dry month shrinks the lagoon a little. Life goes on.

another work party - there's ALWAYS another work party

The last two Kah Tai work parties of the season will be on Sundays, May 25 and June 29, 9 am to noon. Admiralty Audubon leads the effort, and birders tend to migrate in the summer so we have a brief hiatus from July - September.

Since we've gotten the Scot's broom under good control (just note how yellow Kah Tai isn't and everywhere else is right now), we will be working on spurge laurel, holly and ivy. And of course, picking up garbage.

For more information, visit Admiralty Audubon's website.

A new face has been documented at Kah Tai: the American Pipit shown here was recently photographed by Artemis Celt.

winter, such as it is

photo courtesy Ron Sikes

In October, unexpectedly large flocks of Buffleheads, Wigeons, Scaup, Canada Geese and other species descended on the lagoon. It is typically a sheltered and hospitable place for waterfowl even in late fall and winter.

The lagoon froze over earlier this month, and all the usual water birds apparently headed down to salt water at Point Hudson and Point Wilson to wait out the weather. Mallards, Northern Shovelers, Wigeons and Buffleheads, all more normally seen at Kah Tai, were observed hunkered down in both places until the weather turned again and the ice departed.

The cold snap didn't bring much snow for the park. The picture here is from a few years past, but it serves as a beautiful reminder of the season and the solstice.

a part of the process

As a part of the Master Plan for Kah Tai, Phase I of the Kah Tai Lagoon Park was developed, refined, reviewed and permitted in 1985. Phase I required a Shoreline Substantial Development permit (#SH10-85) from the State Department of Ecology. The final version of the permit map, dated November 1985, indicates that the purpose of digging the small lagoon is to 'Restore Wildlife Habitat'.

The small lagoon was initially drawn to extend much closer to 12th Street than it does today with the hope that the 'Department of Ecology shall not require review under the Washington State Shoreline Management Act for future projects proposed for lands brought under the jurisdiction of the Act' as a result of the permit. Ecology was unable to waive review of adjacent lands that would be within the 200-ft shoreline zone of the small lagoon. The result is the modified configuration that we see today for the small lagoon.

There remain intermittent wetlands in the area between the small lagoon and the southern boundary of the park. One obvious component of the Master Plan not yet complete is the restoration of wetlands near the eastern boundary of the southern uplands.

We have a boundary!

Last evening we heard the news from both a port commissioner and a county commissioner that the property transfers are complete and Kah Tai Lagoon Nature Park is entirely in city hands. Since the port land was the major source of contention between 1980 and now, and the final small parcel holding up the transfer belonged to the county, it would seem that the sources of information are exceedingly well-placed to provide facts.

We aren't done yet. There are all the issues ahead of language in the parks and comprehensive plans being updated to recognize this new reality and affirm governmental recognition of perpetual protections. But now park supporters can focus on a single entity - it's time for the city to finish what it started in 1980.

Meanwhile, there are some weathered bumper stickers around town that are becoming collectors' items. We still have a few left - just in case.

Another work party on 22 June, 9 am to noon

The ongoing efforts to control Scot's broom at Kah Tai are especially evident now, in peak Scot's broom season. Other areas of the city and county are covered in yellow, no longer beautiful to look at once you know how invasive it is. But in the south uplands, the only yellow visible is a California lupine, not native but not invasive.  The park looks wonderful.

Our May workparty went to work on the last serious Scot's broom outbreak in the middle of the park, not visible from the highway or the lagoon. A few relatively large and healthy specimens were also extracted from the north side of the berms where they had tucked in behind blackberries.  On 20 June from 9 am to noon, we'll tackle that central area again.

There are many non-native species at Kah Tai which do not seem invasive or unwelcome.  A spring walk might take you past a clump of iris, or daffodils, or crocus, some anonymous contribution to the park. A favorite discovery is a cluster of at least three white lilac shrubs on the southern berms. All bloomed this year. As lilacs are not invasive and do not usually propagate by seed, these were deliberately brought and planted on their berm by unknown hands.

The final transfer of Kah Tai land from Port to City is still underway, although movement is glacial. A single parcel in the northeast section seems to be the holdup. It was listed in records as being owned by the City back in 1980 and so when the County sold all its Kah Tai parcels to the City in 2004, the single parcel wasn't included. It is beneath a right of way and intermittently under water. But it turns out that it belongs to the County after all and so we await the paperwork to transfer this final piece from one government entity to another. On September 22, 1980, the County Commission unanimously voted to transfer Kah Tai parcels to the City if the LWCF grant was funded, - "all underwater parcels and upland parcels as needed". Time to finish the job.