Hilton Head – February 2016 Blog
There’s a game where you start with a small white dimpled ball. You hit it with a lump of metal and try to get it into a small hole that some bloke has dug in a small tightly mown area of grass about 400 yards away. It’s a fairly pointless exercise but we have travelled 4000 miles to play the game in Hilton Head which is a small island on the Atlantic coast of USA in South Carolina. The idea is to get some proper golf weather after the washout in the UK for the past few months.
Colin and I were full of enthusiasm and arrived at Arthur Hills Golf Course on Sunday morning at 7.45am for our 9am tee off. We were a bit concerned to find only one other car in the car park and sure enough were told that the course was closed for a couple of hours due to frost. It was really cold (about zero) but the frost was pretty light compared to what we routinely get back home. But the Americans are protecting their greens so we called the girls and adjourned to the local diner for breakfast.
As this is a golf trip I am afraid some of you are going to be extremely bored with the content but there might be some other morsels to keep you reading. After breakfast this morning, we were dropped back at the golf course by the girls where happily the frosty conditions had changed to simply ‘bl**dy freezing’. Mrs K had her first go at driving the people carrier we have rented for the week in search of some shops. In the afternoon on the way back, she spotted a police car in her rear view mirror and pulled over to let him pass only to see him pull up behind her. Those that are familiar with Mrs K’s run ins with the police will be relieved to hear that on this occasion she was not breaking the speed limit, did not resort to tears to escape a fine and was fully clothed. The officer was just concerned with the way she was weaving back and forth across the road. Had I been there I could have reassured him that that is perfectly normal behaviour and nothing to be worried about. Mrs K explained she was not sure exactly where she was going which explained her slightly erratic driving. I can only imagine that co-driver Joan was hanging on for dear life and had her eyes shut.
Back to golf. We are here for a week and will play 4 courses including the famous Harbour Town Links which has the red and white lighthouse behind the 18th green. In a book I received for Christmas from Holly, this course is apparently one of the 50 in the world you have to play before you die. That will be on Wednesday, assuming I survive Mrs K’s driving.
Today’s (Sunday) round was supposed to be a ‘warmer upper’ but a sunny day was accompanied with low temperatures and a bracing wind coming in from the Atlantic. We also had to brave wild creatures such as alligators though I am not sure they would be out in this weather. I must confess I jumped when a well camouflaged turtle decided to move just a few feet from me as I was searching for another of Colin's golf balls. Colin and I didn’t play brilliantly but we can probably blame the fact that we could hardly feel our fingers. The Arthur Hills course weaves its way around inlets – 13 of the holes had water to negotiate. We summed up our play as consisting of some very good and some very bad and not much between. It finished all square in the matchplay with Colin paring the last hole with a nonchalant 4 foot putt to level things. If he had realised what was at stake he might have missed it. In our rather complicated points system (which even the golfers will be bored by) I am 7-3 up with a total of 45 points up for grabs.
It being Valentines Day, we all received presents in the morning. All except me. Mrs K says I don’t get one because I wouldn’t appreciate it, which is probably right.
We went out for a Valentine’s meal or rather we went out for dinner on a night which just happened to be Valentine’s day. On our way to the table Joan took a tumble as she slipped on something slippery. The offending article was a tomato. The last time Joan fell over in the US she ended up in plaster and extending her stay for a week. So we were all hugely relieved to see her get up and make her way to the table in one piece, if a little shaken. The restaurant manager was over to our table like a flash and just like after a road incident has taken Joan’s details – phone number and email address for passing on to his insurance company. “Are you OK?”. Joan responded (quick as a flash) “Nothing a Hendricks Martini won’t fix”. She will now be referred to as Mrs B.
Part 2
How y'all doing?
Mrs K was not at all well on Monday. We think it might have been the fish from the restaurant with the offending tomato. I am thinking maybe we should phone them with our details in case we decide to sue. So Mrs B plays nurse while Colin and I play the glorious Heron Point golf course. It is really quiet and we hardly see any other golfers until we get to the halfway house where we stop to shelter from a heavy shower. It is about 10C warmer than Sunday. Colin is striking the ball really nicely but we both fall victim to the water and lose several balls each. The 18th hole has water all the way along the left side, right up to the green. Colin catches the sand with his tee shot and then hits a solid shot to the green which runs through and ends up on the bank. So with Mrs B and a small crowd on the 1st tee watching, Colin manages to chip back towards the water from a scrappy lie and leave it dead. There is applause from the tee.
On Tuesday Mrs K is back on her feet (though a bit shaky) so we visited Savannah and used the hop-on hop-off trolley bus tour which took us to the Owen Thomas house. It famously had flushing toilets before the White House did. The City tour is well worth the price as you get to see all the character buildings in the City and listen to the full on commentary of our trolley bus drivers. Savannah was severely affected by major fires on 3 occasions so it was tough for the early colonists but the pace of growth in the early 1800s was incredible, aided by slave labour. The founding fathers actually made slavery one of the key prohibitions but they had to give in as neighbouring states had such an economic advantage. "The buck won out in the end".
Wednesday is a big day. The girls are going to a spa and we are playing at Harbour Town Golf Links which is a course on the PGA tour sponsored by RBC Heritage. Having had breakfast with the girls and having to make an emergency stop for Colin to buy more golf balls, we think we are short of time but our tee time has been pushed back so we have plenty of time to hit balls on the range and practice on the super fast putting green. It is a beautiful day, in fact perfect for golf. On the first tee we meet our forecaddie Paul (who is dressed in Masters style white overalls) and our 2 fellow golfers Joe and Hamilton. Joe is from Wilmington North Carolina and Hamilton is an Oil man from Texas. Paul's job is to guide us round the course, give us distances and rake the bunkers. I am sure he is also there to make sure we are not complete hackers. He looks like an old campaigner and said he nearly got the bag of Kevin Na once, but the caddie turned up at the last minute. That might have been his highest achievement. Paul's advice consists of telling us where to aim on the fairway. He was probably confused by the fact that I consistently hit the ball anywhere except where he directed. Colin being quite a few points behind decided to take putting advice from Paul but I'm not sure it helped much. On one hole Joe seems to be taking a very long time on his bunker shot. We then realise that there is an alligator on the bank of the lake just a few paces away. From then on I am reluctant to play shots with my back to the water. One of the holes is apparently the 5th hardest hole on the PGA tour, a par 3 with water right up to the green. We all hit decent shots in but we then realise that the professionals play their tee shots about 60 yards back. Hamilton (plays off 3) and I have eight footers for birdie but the putts slide by.
Our golfing companions were good company and the whole experience was really special. We pick up the girls from the spa and Mrs B tells us about her own special experience with Nick in her massage session.
On Thursday Colin and I are a bit worried about our swings getting a bit rusty before our final round at so we decide to squeeze in a cheeky extra round at the Port Royal Planters Row golf course. Mrs K is not amused by the change of schedule but she takes it out on my credit card in yet another visit to the outlet stores.
On Friday, Colin and I will play our final round at the Robert Trent Jones course. In our competition I am 27-15 up but there are 15 points available plus bonus points for birdies and eagles, so all to play for.
Part 3
On the news there is a report of a shooting in Hilton Head, not far from where we are staying. It doesn't get much prominence, definitely less than the weather, traffic and the presidential race. Its hard to believe that people are going round with guns in such an idyllic holiday destination. But the USA is full of contradictions. Back in the local diner I notice a woman laughing at our accents. To be fair we have spent a lot of time mimicking accents and expressions. One of the contradictions is the way that Americans have adapted the Queens English but still use words like beverage, condiments and apparel all the time.
In our last round at the spectacular Robert Trent Jones course at Palmetto Dunes resort our competition comes to an end. I play my best golf of the week, converting one of several birdie putts. Colin plays well except for a dodgy spell around the turn where we are buffeted by a stiff breeze coming off the ocean. But the sun is out and it is a beautiful day for golf.
Friday night we spend our last evening at the top rated restaurant on the island (by TripAdvisor at least) and it doesn't disappoint. We are at the Jazz Corner and enjoy listening to the Peter & Will Lawrence Jazz Trio. We are greeted by Mrs Masteller, owner of the restaurant who thanks us warmly for coming. Only later do I read that Bob, her husband was found dead in suspicious circumstances just a year ago, just a short way from the restaurant. The family have built an incredible foundation which collects old unused musical instruments and distributes them to schools. What a tragedy.
We have some last minute shopping and juggling of weight in suitcases before we set off on our trip home including a tight connection at Charlotte but all goes smoothly.
Thanks for reading.
Jeff Keen