Being a new member of the Grey Nomad set… as in a week or two… I have always said that I would take up golf with The Man when we were put out to pasture. The time has come and I have learnt this week that Golf 1.01 is HIT THE DAM THING!
Although we have newly joined the silverbacks of our society, it is a fortunate circumstance that having been handed his redundancy ‘The Man’ then found himself on one of my jaunts. I have always had a practice of heading off at any given time available and driving the little red rocket, to parts unknown.
With the ‘your retrenched’ advice hubby received he was immediately recruited to join me on my jaunt as I felt at this point he required careful watching. I headed south on a pre-arranged trip for a corroboree in Sydney. The Man has been in stunned mullet mode since receiving his notice and it is only now that he emerges.
I have been known to take my time when travelling and my trip plan was to have a lay-over at Coffs Harbour on the way into Sydney. A lay-over of a few days to catch up with family and friends has now turned into a retirement seminar of a sorts with The Man as we both adjusted to our new and improved status.
Fortunately the accommodation I had booked into for a few days has a golf course and having sprouted about how I was truly going to learn the game one day I bravely insisted on The Man packing the golf clubs, including those I had inherited from the Baby Boy when he upgraded. Hence Golf 1.01 … Bugga!
Blessedly it is only a 9 hole course and a shortie too. Par 3 or 4 I am told, which is lingo that is all par for the course. By hole 3 I had found the water hazards for which this course should be known. I was only happy that I wasn’t in far north Queensland where the croc’s are prone to live in the water hazards as The Man went wading for the ball… seriously! Why would you bother!
By hole 4 I had discovered the sand hazards but with the Gods looking on favourably it had rained the night before and they were firm as rock, if not hard. God bless their little cotton socks. It took until hole 5 for me to realize that I wasn’t playing cricket and you actually swung the bat with the left hand … Ummm club.
Hole six was a delight… if only I could stop whacking the ball. We found 3 other balls btw when the man went wading again much to the disgust of the water monitors he disturbed. Hole 7 was two whole holes from the finish and I was truly heartened by this. It was about here that they should put a café’ and there was a restaurant on the horizon but we had a plan and that was two whole holes away. Concentrate Jan.
Hole 8 crossed the road… the best thing to be said for my efforts was that it was the next-best thing to hole 9.
Hole 9! My nemesis had arrived… they had to be kidding. Out there on the Never Never was Pinchgut. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, Pinchgut is an island in the beautiful Sydney Harbour. Today it is called Fort Denison as the powers that be have cleaned their act up since the convict days when Pinchgut was known for where they sent the intractable Aus. convicts to suffer while chained in irons on a small harbour island with only bread and water.
In the middle of Sydney Harbour sits Pinchgut Island, within sight of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the renown Opera House. This harbour island is small and surrounded by harbour waters within view of the Governors House. The strong current tides, along with sharks and all manner of ocean terrors surround the island, which was what made it a hell on water. Convicts were put on the island as harsh punishment in the early days and anyone who has convict ancestors from Old Sydney Town knows where Pinchgut is, such was its reputation.
Well, that damn island number 9 golf hole was Coffs version of Pinchgut I swear! There wasn’t a hope in hades that I was gunna make that hole… I did suggest to The Man that I dribble the ball down along the walkway, across the bridges and onto the green… seemed a sound suggestion to me but The Man pointed out that we weren’t playing hockey. Bugga!
I persuaded him to be lenient in the end. He hit my ball into the sand hazard for me and let me play it from there. My nemesis has arrived and I’m not quite sure if I am looking forward to our Sydney game… Me and my big mouth!
Life is meant to be lived. Jan
- Man drowns at Hilton Head Island golf club (thestate.com)
- Off on a Sortie into Sydney (janhawkinsau.wordpress.com)