Playing Golf at Narooma: Coastal Hacking by Campbell Jefferys

I'm only on the third tee and already my game has gone to pieces. Bad timing, really, because the third hole at the Narooma Golf Club is one of the most famous in Australia. Hogan's Hole, they call it, named not after Ben the golfer, but Paul the actor who did a cigarette ad here in the 1970s. Sufferers of vertigo and acrophobia beware: there is a massive chasm between the tee and green and down below the Pacific thumps onto the rocks, washing a truckload of golf balls out to sea. 

Yep, looking towards what seems like a minuscule green (22 metres by 12, I find out later), with nothing but a gaping hole in between, it really is a bad time to lose my game. The 141 metres looks much further than it should, and I toy with my woods, thinking that surely it's best to go longer than shorter. 

“Just aim to the right,” says Klaus, my partner for the day. “Hitting the green is almost impossible. Play safe.”

Good advice, but the sea breeze is blowing in exactly that direction, and I'm afraid, with my natural inclination to slice everything, that it will send my ball to the other side of the fourth fairway. The group behind are already off the green, so I have to make a shot, now with an audience. I choose a five iron and aim a little to the left, thinking the wind and my slice will place the ball conservatively at the right of green. A good chip and a sliced putt, and par could be mine. Behind me, Klaus chuckles. I must be aiming for the ocean, I assume. Come on, swing easy. 

But when you game goes to pieces, there's little you can do. And that perfectly struck ball for once doesn't slice, doesn't get carried by the wind but goes straight down into the chasm. There's an eerie silence as the ball disappears. I expect to hear it crack against a rock, but then comes only the sound of waves, and the wind now picking up again. 

“Yeah, that'll happen here,” says a man from the group behind, already with his iron out, his glove on, his tee between his fingers, his eyes confident.

I take another ball and this time aim for the flag. Sure enough, it skews way right, off on a voyage of slice and wind, landing in the middle of the fourth fairway. I consider keeping the five iron in my hand, because it looks like I'll be needing it again, but that shows poor form, so it goes back into the bag. 

“Looks like it's gonna be a long day,” I mumble to myself. 

But I'm wrong. Sure, I hack my way around Narooma's links, pitching from bunker to bunker and going through half a dozen balls (a finding another dozen), but the time passes quickly, and the look on my face is showing anything but struggle. It's because the course is just that beautiful. 

From the dramatic windswept cliffs of the front nine to the tall timbers and lakes of the back nine, there is beauty in every pocket of the course, and a view to enjoy on every tee, fairway and green. The course is currently ranked number 68 in Australia's top 100, but deserves to be higher. The breathtaking scenery makes for dramatic golf play, and if your game starts to crumble, it's most probably the scenery that has ruined your concentration. How can you focus on a shot when there is such a coastal view to enjoy?

Those views can also be savoured from the clubhouse, perched atop a hill and overlooking the front nine and the vast expanse of the Pacific. There's even a deck with a powerful telescope for whale watching. In between three-putting the eighteenth hole, I saw dolphins. On the back nine, kookaburras laughed at me while turtles swam in the lake. 

Narooma is famous for fishing and water sports, but the golf course is as strong a draw-card for any holidaymaker. Seldom have I seen so many family members and friends tagging along on a round, just to enjoy the views and scenery. In the evenings, people walk along the cliffs, using the course like a park. 

The first nine holes were laid out in 1930; the town itself was settled in 1883. Like many of the towns along the south coast of New South Wales, it is a holiday town, with several large caravan parks (including one on the golf course) that fills to burst during school holidays. Apart from golf and water activities, there's not much to do, but the town's dull lassitude makes it pleasant and peaceful, in contrast to more rambunctious holiday towns like Ulladulla and Bateman's Bay. 

The town's name is said to be from the Aboriginal for 'clear blue waters'. Indeed, there is water everywhere, from the raging Pacific to the calmer waters of the Wagonga inlet that surround the town. There are charter boats for whale watching, big game fishing and trips to Montague Island. There's also a yellow sand beach south of town, on a road that slices between the front and back nines of the golf course. 

All that water is great but the heart of Narooma really is its unique and exceptional golf course. And despite its fame, it remains good value and relatively uncrowded. Play it now before all those hackers in Sydney and Melbourne find out what they've been missing. 

“I've been coming here every year for nearly twenty years,” says Klaus, who is from Melbourne. “And I don't tell anyone about it. I always lie and say I'm going to Bateman's Bay. I want to keep this place a secret, at least for a bit longer.”

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