Family fights to defend property
As the Soberanes fire nears 30,000 acres burned, vacation enclave owners dig in, unwilling to risk waiting for firefighters
CARMEL VALLEY — For almost a week now, the Soberanes fire has been creeping closer and closer to San Clemente Rancho. Ash drifts like snowflakes onto the swimming pool, tennis courts, gardens and 103 cottages that make up this 2,600-acre private vacation enclave.
But the Dormody family’s link to this land is fireproof, forged over decades of love, toil and trouble.
“We know it is coming, and
there’s nothing we can do about it, except to get as prepared as possible,” Bruce Dormody, 50, said Thursday, his face creased with sweat and fatigue.
In a race against time, the family’s bulldozers, dump trucks and backhoes are clearing more than 10 miles of firebreak along remote ridgelines in hopes of stopping the raging flames, which by Thursday night had consumed 29,877 acres in the rugged mountains near Carmel, destroyed 34 homes and threatened 2,000 more.
It is dangerous work. On Thursday, Cal Fire identified the private bulldozer operator killed this week fighting the blaze as Robert Oliver Reagan III, 35, of the Fresno County town of Friant. Neighbors near the site of the accident on Green Ridge said the bulldozer tipped over on a narrow road.
Even as smoke veils the valley, the three Dormody brothers — Bruce, Hank and Eric — are working 15hour stretches, with some staff, to build four more new fire lines, and clearing more “defensible” space around each cabin. When a truck broke, matriarch Donna, age 83, drove 30 circuitous miles to Salinas to pick up parts.
“If we can protect it, we’ll protect it,” said Dormody, one of three sons of the late Michael Dormody, who 56 years ago turned a cattle ranch into a vacation Eden, tucked into the deep accordion pleats of the Santa Lucia Range.
“Everybody else has gone, but we probably won’t,” he said.
Generations of folks from San Francisco to Salinas have discovered this special place, buying 99year licensing agreements to cabins for $150,000 to $1.1 million. About 16 miles southeast of Carmel — far from the busy, urban and high-stress Bay Area — children here still hike, climb trees, catch frogs and wander from kitchen to kitchen.
“If it goes up (in flames), it would never be the same,” said Jenell Burk of Salinas, whose three children have grown up among its tall redwoods, fern-lined creeks and tight friendships.
“It’s less about the cabin — the cabin is just stuff,” she said. “It’s about the community and the people who may not be able to rebuild.”
The Dormody family paved these roads themselves. They dug the fish pond. They tapped new water supplies. They fended off marijuana growers.
“They know every tree and creek and rock. It is their whole lives,” said Burk. “They are dedicated, hardworking and very family-oriented people who love that place and love doing things for that place and for people.
“It is a very noble thing they’re doing — maybe too noble,” she worried.
Miles away, Cal Fire choppers are hovering like giant insects, dropping water on the fire that is only 15 percent contained — but they’re too far away to help the Dormody family.
Through poison oak, chamise, manzanita and oak, they’ve created 50to 70-foot-wide swaths of naked soil. In some areas, they’ve sprayed red fire retardant; in others, they’ve back-burned.
The family’s best hope to save the property, they know, is to do it themselves. While Cal Fire is sending in some bulldozers and hand crews, the landscape is so vast, and so vulnerable, the family knows it can’t wait.
“Cal Fire has its hands so full — other areas have their focus now,” said Bruce Dormody. “If we start getting their attention after other areas, it would be too late. There’s too much preparation involved.
“We know what we’ve got to do, so we do it, and hope for the best,” he said. But even that may not be enough, he conceded. “If an ember jumps it and gets to the other side, off it goes.”
Every morning before dawn, the brothers awaken and strategize, based on the fire’s nighttime gains.
Overhead, the skies are darkening like honey, as the fire grows about 4,000 acres every day. The oncesweet forest air has turned acrid.
Marine winds are pushing flames east — away from the ocean, over steep ridgelines and toward this verdant valley, nourished by the San Clemente Creek.
Now an evacuation order is posted on the ranch’s rustic gate. Most have left, but not the Dormodys.
“If there is a conflagration coming down the hill, heck yes, we’ll get out,” said Bruce Dormody. “We can skirt around it. We can go hang out in the middle of the lake.
“We are going to stay here and try our best.”