DAN HUBIG


ROBERT BUELTEMAN

Very few of the people who travel daily along Highway 101 past
Bair Island have even a faint idea of what they are passing.


PETER LATOURETTE

Snowy egret

FOR YEARS THE U.S. FISH AND Wildlife Service and conservationists had tried to acquire Bair Island, a 1,600-acre tidal marsh next to the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Reserve. This highly valuable wetland was also at the top of the acquisitions list for the Peninsula Open Space Trust.
Yet POST took no part in the many lobbying campaigns to win protection for Bair Island, nor in efforts to impose land use regulation. To get involved in the political process would have compromised one of its most important assets: the trust it enjoys among people of varied political persuasions, and its ability to play for high stakes in the private marketplace. POST was watching for the moment when the owner might be willing to negotiate a sale quietly and swiftly.
That moment came a year ago. With astonishing speed--it took only four meetings--the corporate owner agreed to sell Bair Island to POST for $15 million. This was a dazzling accomplishment for POST, which prides itself on having helped to protect 35,000 acres in an area where a house lot goes for $500,000 or more.
Few local land trusts can play in this league. "The concept of secrecy and the competitive edge is essential to our work," says executive director Audrey Rust. "Our goal is the top of the pyramid. Then we bring smaller donors along. We've spent our time cultivating people who pack a powerful punch at the top of the pyramid."
POST had been talking with the landowner, Kumigai Gumi Co., Ltd., for several years, without success. "We knew they wanted out," Rust said. "Almost all their work in Redwood Shores (an adjacent development) was done, the Japanese stock market was down the tubes and their stock with it, and Japanese companies were pulling out of American real estate. They had bought high, the market had dropped, and they found themselves with investments that weren't being realized."
The problem was getting to the right people, ones whom Kumigai Gumi trusted and who could provide the necessary introductions. "A local developer found us the right people to talk to, so that when we were scrutinized it was through a developer--a business vouching for another business." Rust said. "We were introduced by an attorney who used to be partners with one of their attorneys. In any business/nonprofit deal you have to have money, experience, and professional knowledge, but none of these work if you don't have the contacts." Meanwhile, the local chapters of the Audubon Society and other advocacy groups orchestrated a campaign to persuade the landowner that his best option was to sell Bair Island at a fair price.
Kumigai Gumi is Japan's seventh-largest construction corporation and the largest in overseas projects. On its world map this wetland on San Francisco Bay, so precious to local residents, would be no more than a pushpin.
"We had to figure out an aikido move so their strength would work against them," said William L. Rukeyser, communications consultant to the Bay Area Audubon Council at the time.
Rukeyser devised a strategy. He would work through Japanese media to make the Bair Island story news in Tokyo and so reach the landowner. "Japanese companies, and Kumigai in particular, don't particularly like publicity, unless they make it themselves," he explained.
In June 1996 a photo opportunity for Japanese media was arranged on Bair Island. Demonstrators held up huge banners, in English and Japanese. On October 8, a full-page ad appeared in the West Coast edition of the New York Times, which circulates in Japan and along the Pacific rim, where Kumigai has many projects.
The ad had been prepared with the help of experts in Japanese culture, and in particular its corporate culture. It was an open letter to Mr. Kumigai and was signed by environmental groups both in the U.S. and Japan. It told Mr. Kumigai that he would never be permitted to build on Bair Island and that selling the wetland at fair market value would benefit U.S.-Japanese trade relations.
"We made sure that this was a fair business proposition, not a plea for charity," Rukeyser said. "And that it was not a U.S.-Japan conflict but a David and Goliath issue." A photograph of Mr. Kumigai--bought, after a long search, from an agency in Britain--accompanied the letter, as well as a photograph of Bair Island.
The following day, Yomiuri Shin Bun, the largest daily newspaper in Japan, ran a front page story. Immediately after, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service received a call from the company, and so did POST.
"We did not collaborate on [the advocates' strategy], not at all," said POST's Rust. "If it worked, Kumigai Gumi wouldn't like the people who made it work." By keeping out of the public debate, POST had maintained its position as a trustworthy entity that could negotiate with the landowner without further embarrassment to the company.
Audrey Rust took the call from the landowner's representative. "His first question was: 'Are you on a land-based phone?'" she recalled. "As opposed to what? I thought. Ship-to-shore radio? Of course he meant a cell phone, so I said yes." Confidentiality was obviously important.
The negotiations began. The purchase price had to be low enough to be acceptable to the appraiser for the Fish and Wildlife Service, for Bair Island was eventually to become part of the reserve. "We do all the tricks negotiators do," Rust said."It's a dance, and it has its dramatic moments. We practice in the office, with each other. No matter what, you should literally, physically flinch when money is mentioned. You have to remember that for everything you give up, you get something."
The deal was made. Bair Island is safe now for wildlife and POST is engaged in still bigger campaigns. It is working to raise $28.5 million for further conservation challenges.

--RG

Top of Page | Contents | Next Story | Previous Story | Subscribe