An artist and a fisherman, Clayton Lewis was legendary in West Marin. Nationally recognized for his paintings, jewelry and sculpture, he had a local reputation as a raconteur, sea dog, ladies’ man and general wit. He died in September of 1995.

Thirty-two years before, Clayton was sailing on Tomales Bay with a friend when he spotted a cove with some intriguing old buildings. He and his friend swam to shore to explore. As soon as he set foot on Laird’s Landing, just south of Marshall Beach, Clayton said he knew he had found his home. He contacted the owner of the place and told him the buildings were disintegrating. He was about to offer to rent the property when the owner said that Clayton could fix it up, and so began Clayton’s long sojourn at the former Miwok settlement. He always thought he shared Laird’s Landing with the spirits of the Indians who had lived there years before, and that the place was haunted by benevolent ghosts.
One day Clayton’s son, Tom, found a large net in the bushes at Laird’s Landing. It was a beach seine net. They decided to try it. To their amazement they pulled in hundreds of pounds of perch, a fish too bony to eat.

Clayton discovered that Chinese cooks like to use perch to make fish stock, so he started trucking perch, herring and other varieties of fish to Chinatown. Joe Slatterly, his fishing partner, said they never made a lot of money but those times with Clayton were wonderful. “He was amazing. When he rowed out to the boat, he never looked behind him to see where he was going. It was all instinctive and he was always right. Going fishing with Clayton was very healing. He would talk about how wondrous it was on the bay and he would let go any fish we couldn’t use.”
Richard and I went down to Laird’s Landing at dawn to watch Clayton and Joe fish. They had no luck that day but Richard took some beautiful images of them working together. “I’m the only person who caught anything!” he told them.

Clayton loved taking people on adventures, literally and figuratively. At his last birthday party, he was about to take folks home across the bay in his naval launch when Robin Zank mentioned that although she had lived in Inverness for 15 years she had never actually been on Tomales Bay. “A Tomales Bay Virgin,” Clayton said, “We’ll have to do something about that.” So Robin climbed in the boat with about 20 other people. “The boat was pretty full and when we got to Marshall everybody ducked down so Clayton could see. He had poor eyesight by then, but Clayton was so experienced, docking was no problem. It was dark by the time we got back to Laird’s Landing and it was a beautiful ride. I could not have asked for a better introduction to the bay.” Robin commented

Clayton himself had such an open spirit that he attracted people of all descriptions to him. What they had in common was reverence for the Earth and an irreverence for authority. On occasion Clayton found ways to express this irreverence creatively. A few years ago feral pigs were seen around Point Reyes National Seashore and people became extremely worried. Clayton thought the concern was getting out of hand. He and his friend Richard Kirschman did some research and discovered what a wild pig’s tracks looked like. Clayton then carved wooden clogs with tracks on the soles. He wore them on the beach, made beautiful tracks for a 3000-pound feral pig, photographed them, and submitted the picture to the Point Reyes Light where it was duly published!

Another day a friend, Mary Moser, paddled in a canoe to visit. By the time she wanted to leave, the wind had picked up, so Clayton decided to rig up a sail for her. He jury-rigged a mast in the canoe and attached an improvised sail. “I sailed home, holding the end of the sail and using a paddle as a rudder. It was very efficient and I got back really quickly!” said Mary.

A raven grew tame at Laird’s Landing, and Clayton called him Never More. The raven would sit on Clayton’s head and he would talk to him. If Clayton was working on a project and could not pay attention to Never More, the bird would swoop down, take Clayton’s hat in his beak and fly off with it. Eventually Never More found a mate whom he brought back to Laird’s Landing for a short visit before taking off forever.

It was Clayton’s dream for Laird’s Landing to become a place of learning and retreat for artists and environmentalists of all ages. After his death, the Clayton Lewis Institute for Art and Ecology was formed to try and actualize his dream. They were unsuccessful in making Laird’s Landing the center Clayton had visualized. However, as a result of their efforts some of the buildings will be saved and stabilized. Clayton, the artist, and his predecessors, the Coast Miwok, will be remembered. Perhaps an artist-in-residence program will be started at Point Reyes National Seashore in recognition of the role artists have played in bringing the beauty of parks to the public.

The Clayton Lewis Institute’s environmental education program, which periodically gives demonstrations on the use of the beach seine continues to this day. To find out more about this program, please write to the Clayton Lewis Institute, P. O. Box 764, Marshall, CA 94940.

© copyright Kathleen Goodwin