A WINDY DAY AT KING EDWARD BAY

  

KING EDWARD BAY GOLF CLUB	https://www.kingedwardbay.co.im/
Type of course	Heathland	18 holes	Par 67
Course distance	White 5296 yds	Yellow 5065 yds	Red 4803 yds
Holes	6 x Par 3	11 x Par 4	1  x Par 5
Played	30/10/23	Slope Rating: 132
Claim to Fame: The friendliest club on the island

 

Having returned from my eight-week odyssey abroad and having only played twice, the return to a wet and windy home course, with a 20^o drop in temp' didn’t appeal much. Gone were the shorts and T and out from the TARDIS like sports cupboard, came the mid layers, gillets, waterproofs and woollies. The golfing sage, aka the Metronome, was heard to say “it’s  going to be a long old winter”, and the thought of trudging through the dark, dank rough did not fill me with glee.

Never a truer word had been spoken in jest. Multiple storms of biblical proportions had seen courses in the area struggle to maintain an open policy.

In my prolonged absence the Judge had found his form of yesteryear and along with the Metronome had taken Hornsea Seniors  by storm. As the saying goes “Form is temporary, class is permanent”. Not sure of the latter for the former but the latter certainly has both! Hope you followed that!

The Doc and the Big Easy continued to accrue cash in many of the Pro shops within a 50 mile radius. A combo made in heaven. Scarborough North and Pannal Harrogate both felt the strength of their golfing prowess.

Handy and The Beau had contributed to pairs and four balls throughout the season but the heat of the sun is just too much for these Heliophile’s as they intermittently escaped to warmer climes. With Handy’s damaged knee becoming a pain, he needed as much warmth as possible. Having introduced his partner to the glorious game Handy also saw himself become a golfing widow as the good lady continued to travel the world in pursuit of blue skies and warm fairways.

With multiple house buying issues, the Beau also had his flow constantly interrupted but his expensive PXG’s had come good.

Kryton continued to follow in the footsteps of his political hero, Boris Johnson and had seen his trolley veer from side to side, like a kid in a sweet shop. One minute he’s cocker hoop, the next he is cock up. Always aspiring to be in the A team, his lack of concentration, continues to affect his overall standard. A standard I might add, I would be happy to have. His ability to find a ball lost in the woods and rough however remains uncanny if not on occasion strange!

The Consonant Kid who is a member of more societies than he has clubs, continued to drop in and out of the Wednesday throng. To his credit his “Wear something Pink Day” benefits Cancer Research annually to the sum of £2000 to £3000.

Individually the Doc had a fine summer winning the clubs match play knock out. The prestigious Longbone Trophy goes back many years and has even seen the Big Easy compete in the final. Sadly, he lost on both occasions, 24 years ago  to Mr Longbone’s son and more recently to his grandson. Allegedly the Big Easy has a bone to pick, with the Longbone’s  as he was heard to say “His son (Longbone’s) cheated me out of it.” Perhaps, another story for another day.

I would like to think if I continued with my golf lessons for another 10 years, I might get near the Doc in respect of game quality and cash reward. I can but dream.

The total of my success this summer, can be summed up in one phrase, ‘A Box Of Potatoes’ . That’s right, I won a box of potatoes in the “Wear Something Pink” raffle. A big box I might add and they were very nice.

As to the Sunday lads they tend not to play as much as the Wednesday boys but when they do it’s entertaining. Regardless of the golf, we have a laugh, mainly at the expense of each other. It has for ever been thus and will continue to be so, until we hit the final fairway to hell.

With his golf glove pinkie finger flapping in the breeze, Mick Fileckson our fine four fingered friend, continues to keep things close to his chest.

Boom Boom, like Handy has struggled throughout the year with a debilitating knee injury but it didn’t stop him from heading to Turkey and taking the money daily. Even though he had many late nights and early mornings, his robust constitution enabled him to thrive in the warmer climate.

The Joiner on the other hand hunkered down around his DIY, very rarely venturing out for a game, unless it was super sunny (but not too hot) and cost less than a tenner. To be fair he’s more interested in a smooth finish, then a smooth green. Somehow, I don’t think he’s really interested in golf.

Two months away then and the Wednesday golfers appeared to have parted like a badly made hollandaise sauce. The ingredients were all spread out on the kitchen table, but some of the eggs seemed cracked and the lemon juice was tasting a little too sour.  In order to reconstruct the boys, the Judge suggested I should organise a golfing trip to the far-flung shores of the Isle Of Man.

Now as all readers know I’m a bit of an expert on the courses over there, as I try to play every time, we visit family and strangely enough after less than 2 weeks at home I was once again heading to those island shores. Storms permitting.

My venue this time was to be King Edward Bay Golf Club, situated north of the capital Douglas, in the parish of Onchan.

Due to its elevated position, the web site purports KEB to be an 18 hole links with some of the best views of the Island. 18 holes costing £20 Monday to Friday and £25 at weekends, the rates seemed very reasonable for this par 67 course, slope rating 132. With a total of six par threes, I assumed the course would be straightforward for a man of my diminishing ability.

Having once again left the family to engage in family things I stepped out onto the course, in the interest of  future proofing a possible society visit you realise.

According to Google maps the journey time from the south of the island is 40 minutes and from the Douglas ferry terminal  a matter of 10. Signposting for the course appears to be non-existent and you can easily overshoot the elevated entrance that advertises a Spa and Bar but no golf course. The journey takes you round the back of Douglas, along elements of the infamous TT course, past the main paddock and bleachers, and into Onchan. A quick U-turn on the single carriageway I found myself on, up  the rise to the spa, straight to the end of the road and the Golf Club shop awaits.

KEB states it is ‘the friendliest club on the island’, pity it was deserted when I arrived. Closed, locked, empty, desolate, not a person to be seen, friendly or otherwise.

The door to the Pro Shop was adorned with the modern-day version of the honesty box. A QR Code enabled me to download the ‘Sum Up App’ for a direct payment of £20 and with the apps offer of a £10 token on sign up, I thought I was in for an absolute bargain. After 15 minutes of fiddling with my phone, I was nowhere nearer becoming a fully-fledged member of the ‘Sum Up’ community and therefore resorted to the full payment of £20. Still, a good price for a round of golf. Pity I couldn’t just put the money in an envelope and post it through a letterbox.

Dressed in all the necessary clothing to partake of wet, windy, winter golf, I set out in search of the first tee. Left, right, or up? The latter was chosen and I walked round the back of the closed club house only to return to the road I had recently driven down. Signage indicated a wet path to the first which I dutifully followed.

With no scorecard or map of the course available, the lack of early signage did not fill me with confidence. How wrong I was, apart from my own lack of observation at the 10^th and 11^th, the course signage was excellent. In fact, the best I have seen on any course.

The 1^st, 348 yards par 4, SI 7, was the first of the many uphill climbs you experience on this course. This one was gentle; some are far more severe and with a trig point situated between the 3^rd and 11^th fairways you know you’re up high.

The website declares that the course is superbly maintained and affords some of the best views on the Island. It is not wrong in either respect. Even on a grey winter’s day, as the clouds rolled in over Snaefell, the views were stunning.

The fairways springy mountain turf was in excellent condition, as was the well-maintained greens. Standing water is not an issue for a course which slopes steeply on all sides.

A fine drive towards the fairway marker got me off to a decent start as did the second. Poor chips followed and I began KEB with a double bogey.

The second is the first of the six par 3’s and here is where I would make a killing. 172 yards, SI 5, once again on the rise, with a severe drop, off the left-hand side of the green. With limited clubs available in a half set, the bag forces you to improve your feel and touch but if you haven’t got feel and touch in the first place its doubly difficult and so it initially proved. Having hit left, my ball disappeared into deep spongy rough and as I endeavoured to find the ball, I was sinking ankle deep into the wet grass. I had a feeling the last time anybody found anything here, it was Henry Morton Stanley. Even Kryton would struggle to find his ball in this stuff and if he went in, he may never come out!

No matter we move on to the 3^rd SI 1, par 4 at 399 yards. A good drive up to the first marker post followed by a second 3 wood short of the next marker. Downhill all the way after this. Hitting off the fine cut sandy heather, the ball rose, caught in the airstream and took off like a jet airplane in a steep climb, eventually plummeting like a stone, some 50 yards away. Another double bogey. I could feel I was getting vexed. No matter let’s play on, after all I was the only person for miles around, it was Millionaires golf on a Winter isle!

Hole 4 the only par 5 on the course, a dog leg left, rising up off the tee and down the other side. 450 yards, SI 13, green situated on the edge of the hill, sloping away from the fairway, with a deep drop off if you over hit. A bogey.

Hole 5,  I would like to consider this my Harry Hissy Fit hole and ball number 2 goes the way of number 1,  Internal fairways are separated by white OB  posts nestled in that spongy sapping rough. The red mist descends and I thrash my way to a snow man.  Will I ever learn? To restore some equilibrium, it is necessary to have a quick word with myself, on the 6^th. 338 yards, par 4 SI 11, a respectable bogey.

The second par3  7^th SI 13, only 136 yards, what could possibly go wrong. Uphill, sloping, drop offs abounding, gale force in the face, let’s not dwell on it as we move to the 8^th.

The 8^th requires a golfer with no scorecard, route map, phone or watch, to do that good old fashioned thing and look at the board before they tee off. As I walk away from the tee, the fairway opened up to reveal two adjacent flags in the distance. A look back from whence I came, a judgement call is made and thankfully I selected the right hole. Bogey

The 9^th the third  par 3 at 181 yards SI 7 surely, I have got to get this one right, downhill all the way with a deep drop off if over hit. Nope no good, double bogey.

Not the most impressive of front nines but in its own way enjoyable, if not a bit tiring.

Having moved off from the  9^th tee and not seeing the sign for the 10^th I lost my way somewhat and was forced to hike back up to the 10^th tee. Another uphill and even though the bag was only half full, the legs were wearying. If  we do ever come here as a society, it would be expedient to have a trolley or invest in a  buggy for the day.

Having completed the 10^th, I once again stood on the 3^rd  and couldn’t find the 11^th. Ignoring every indicator around me, I asked the only player I had seen all day, who was coming up the 2nd. Politely he told me it shared the 3^rd and as the realisation dawned, he began to explain the next 8 holes take you round the outside of the course.  Privately he probably thought I was a bit of dick.

The 11^th similar to the 3^rd was of course well signposted, a good drive followed by a poor second and with a deep drop off, surrounded by thick heather, ball number three bit the dust.

It appeared that I would be fairing no better on the back nine.

The 12^th  a simple par 3, probably on the flattest part of the course was surrounded by heather, no good here either and I once again walk uphill to the next tee.

The gorse is now a distinct feature and along with the increasing gale force wind had become a major contributor to my downfall. A fine drive is whipped up by the storm, takes a sharp right but thankfully stays in play. It never fails to amaze me how something so small as a golf ball can be hampered so much by the wind. Thankfully, a par 4 SI 8 at 250 yards the flag isn’t too far away and I chip on with aplomb, its looking good, until I realise white posts separate me from the green, The wrong green that is! This hole is called the  Quarry and the green is hidden from sight. Oh well, for practice sake I take a drop knock it on and putt out. Pity it counts for nowt.

The 14th is yet another par 3 and once again it gets the better of me.

The 15^th a steep dog leg left brings out the best drive of the day, I’m on the edge of the green for two, maybe this time the par is in the offing, sadly I come off with a five. Bugger!

The last three holes sees bogeys all the way and I have successfully completed the course without achieving a par.

On the plus side, it never rained but boy did it blow. I think if the rain had arrived, I would have been one sodden miserable individual. Well, more miserable than normal.

Even though I was three balls down, strangely enough I had enjoyed myself. My drives were very rarely sliced and my putting stood up. For the first time in a long time, it was my short game that let me down.

Oh well, till the next time eh.