With just nine months left until eviction, the 28 households still residing in the Point Reyes National Seashore are staring down a future of personal and economic upheaval. Many say they’ve been left to navigate the fallout alone, with offers of assistance that are either meager or misaligned with the realities they face.
“It feels like every other day we’re learning something new from someone who isn’t even directly impacted,” said Jasmine Bravo, who lives on the McClure dairy with her mother and sister.
Since January, when the multimillion-dollar deal to wind down most ranching in the seashore was announced, attention has turned to the devilish details. In April, the Nature Conservancy—the conservation behemoth that helped broker the settlement between ranchers and the National Park Service—unveiled a transition plan for the park’s roughly 100 residents.
Among them are about 13 ranch workers who stand to lose both their jobs and homes, 30 children in the Shoreline Unified School District, where enrollment is already declining, and dozens of others woven into the fabric of West Marin.
“The uncertainty that exists in each household is visibly traumatic,” said Rosa Rodriguez, who lives with her sons on the dairy where her husband works. “We feel the same as we did from the beginning—ignored and frustrated. And no matter how hard we try to shield them, it also affects our kids.”
The uncertainty is being compounded by new political headwinds. A Republican-led inquiry by the House Natural Resources Committee, multiple lawsuits, and signs of behind-the-scenes maneuvering by Trump administration officials have all raised the prospect that the settlement could unravel, throwing the future further into flux.
And even as the Nature Conservancy rolls out its plans, progress is slow, according to Michael Bell, the conservancy’s protection strategy director and a principal architect of the deal. In March, the conservancy held its first meetings with residents at the Dance Palace and the Point Reyes Community Presbyterian Church.
“They only met with us two times, and both times, we called them,” said a dairy worker who requested anonymity, citing fears of professional retaliation.
The Nature Conservancy has brought in West Marin Community Services and Associated Right of Way Services, a Walnut Creek-based real estate consultant that specializes in relocation, to oversee the transition. Last month, the groups began scheduling individual meetings with families.
“They reached out and suggested coming to our houses, but nobody really wanted them in their private home,” another resident who requested anonymity said.
The transition plan includes lump-sum relocation payments ranging from $70,000 to $100,000 per household, figures meant to reflect 18 months of estimated rent in Marin. The conservancy is working to raise $3.75 million for the effort, including $1 million from the Interior Department and $300,000 from Marin County. More than half the remaining $2.45 million is unfunded.
“We’ve gotten some responses from donors already who feel this is the most important part of the project,” Mr. Bell said. “But there’s still a big need, and we’re working hard to meet it.”
The conservancy has raised a reported $30 million to buy out 11 ranching families. This month, the Gallagher family, who operated the historic F Ranch, fulfilled the terms of their wind-down agreement and received their full payout.
The transition plan for ranch residents also offers help with job placement and the housing search. Associated Right of Way Services will help families look for housing and negotiate with landlords. Lecheros Unidos, a nonprofit supporting dairy workers, has offered to help with finding employment for those who wish to remain in agriculture. The Marin Agricultural Land Trust is assisting one dairy in its effort to relocate elsewhere, with plans to bring their workers along. The Community Land Trust Association of West Marin is exploring short- and long-term housing options, and West Marin Community Services will administer payments. Mr. Bell is participating in biweekly coordination meetings with the county.
“These organizations—and the county itself—have really swung into a solution-oriented mode here,” he said. “There’s real work being done now. That hasn’t always been the case. It’s easier to host workshops and write reports than it is to actually do the work.”
Still, many residents say there is a disconnect between the good intentions and their lived reality. Several expressed frustration that the groups tapped to manage the transition were selected without their input.
“No one asked the people most impacted what groups we trust to represent us, to communicate with us, or to support us,” said Ms. Bravo, who in recent months helped organize the park’s tenants and farmworkers into Familias Afectadas de Rancho, or FAR. “Everything was chosen for us, not with us.”
Others describe the outreach as opaque or performative. “All these organizations are trying to look good to the public, but they’re only focused on their own interests,” one ranch worker said.
When asked about job placement assistance, the worker recalled receiving only “a phone number for some outside group, but not much else.” He felt uncomfortable calling the number without knowing how it would impact him.
Severance pay will be individually negotiated with employers—a daunting task for many workers. “We can’t sleep at night,” one resident said. “There’s so much stress from all the uncertainty. We’re wondering if the support that has been promised is going to be real. I worry about not having an income and having to look for a new home.”
In a March fundraising letter, the Nature Conservancy extoled the “historic” settlement agreement for allowing the “rewilding” of a rare coastal ecosystem, while acknowledging its toll on those who live and work on the ranches. “Any solution would be difficult for the community living and working in Point Reyes,” the letter read. “[But] continued conflict would only make conditions worse for people and nature alike.”
The letter described how years of short-term leases led to deferred maintenance, deteriorating housing conditions and an “untenable” status quo. But residents paint a more complex picture.
“Our housing is in very bad condition and for many years we have reported it to the landlord and the National Park Service, who both point their finger at the other,” Ms. Rodriguez said. “That’s why we stopped reporting things. We just fix what we can ourselves.”
Yet conditions vary, and some say their housing is perfectly adequate. All agree that housing insecurity is endemic in West Marin. According to a recent study, nearly 90 percent of West Marin’s workforce lives in substandard conditions, with mold, pests and structural issues, while 85 percent of households spend more than a third of their income on rent. Census data shows that Marin is losing low-income households faster than any other Bay Area county.
“Sure, our housing is in bad condition,” one tenant said. “But I need a roof over my head to protect me from the rain.”
At March meetings with the Nature Conservancy, FAR asked that families with school-aged children be allowed to stay in their homes through the next school year. Two months later, they have not received a formal answer. “These families need to decide whether they’re moving this summer or if they’re able to stay in their homes until the end of the next year,” Ms. Bravo said. “T.N.C. isn’t acting like this is urgent.”
Mr. Bell said the conservancy is open to case-by-case exceptions, but residents say they want the organization to engage collectively with FAR, which represents around 80 park residents.
Albert Straus, the founder of Straus Family Creamery, which sources organic milk from two dairies that accepted the buyout, said the conservancy is using “divide-and-conquer tactics—the same playbook they used on the ranchers.” He added, “I’m encouraging everyone to hold out for another month. There are things in motion.”
Indeed, a political countercurrent is taking shape, engineered in part by Mr. Straus, who has leveraged longstanding connections in Congress to draw attention to the seashore. But the House inquiry—and heightened scrutiny from cabinet officials—has deepened anxieties among some residents, including Latino immigrants and their children who are alarmed by the administration’s nativist rhetoric.
“Given the G.O.P.’s investigation and their philosophy, I worry things will only get worse for residents,” said Gabriel Romo, who lives on the park ranch he grew up on. “Maybe I’m being pessimistic and it’ll be beneficial, but I don’t have a lot of faith in the federal government, and especially not the Republican Party. Well, either party, to be honest.”
In an April letter to the House committee, the three environmental groups that sued over ranching in the park said they would cooperate with the inquiry but raised “serious First Amendment concerns.” The groups turned over 150 documents totaling more than 3,500 pages, including public versions of the settlement, wind-down agreements, and the new 20-year leases with ranches in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.
Their attorney said that mediation records would not be disclosed. “We have proceeded on the understanding that the Committee is seeking [publicly available] documents and is not requesting that the parties violate contractual, statutory, and federal common-law prohibitions on the disclosure of their confidential mediation documents,” they wrote.
Meanwhile, San Geronimo-based attorney Andrew Giacomini, who represents the seashore’s ranch workers and tenants in a lawsuit against the Department of the Interior and the Nature Conservancy, is seeking those same mediation-protected documents. His suit alleges that the closed-door process that resulted in ranch buyouts amounted to a conspiracy between the conservancy, the park service and the Interior Department.