Golf
Highland cattle stir debate on Scottish golf’s tourist trail
Maneuvering a small ball past cattle and sheep is one of the unexpected hurdles of playing golf on this stretch of seaside turf of northeastern Scotland. But it’s a challenge that’s set to end next year if a motion passes at a special meeting next week.
One of a handful of clubs in Britain that allows farm animals to roam the course, Brora is trying to balance the rising cost of running a remote club with growing its brand to rival bigger venues. Ending those grazing rights would, according to General Manager David Gemmell, allow the club to enhance the course and ultimately boost revenue. The initial cost of doing so: 150,000 pounds ($191,000) in legal fees and compensation to farmers.
It forms part of an issue that golf is grappling with across the world — how to get more people playing a game that is intrinsically difficult and expensive, but keep enticing them back whether they’re a beginner or a pro.
It’s a live talking point in Scotland, where the game has been played for centuries by rich and poor alike.
But now, visitors from North America will pay top dollar to walk the rumpled fairways of premium courses like Trump International near Aberdeen or St. Andrews down the eastern coast. For many venues, the equation is simple. One US tourist will pay more for 18 holes – and will probably hire a caddie — than a local member playing with three guests.
Nature First
Beyond Brora, courses such as Machrihanish Dunes, are happy to keep their beasts chomping away at the long grass. Located on the Scottish southwest coast, cattle and sheep were on the links when the club initially leased the course from a local farmer. Today, it’s on a mission to increase their population.“They were here first,” course manager James Parker said. “We’re very much a nature reserve that facilitates golf, not a golf course that imposes ourselves on nature.”
Beyond serving as natural lawnmowers at Machrihanish, the sheep are a crucial cog in the ecosystem. Wildflowers, including rare orchids and daisies, flourish in the freshly grazed areas around the course.
While this approach leaves the track less manicured than some golfers would like, the unspoiled landscape is pivotal to its appeal. “It has this aura about it,” said Greg Sherwood, president of Southworth Golf which oversees Machrihanish. “It’s as natural as you can get.”
Cherries and Pigs
More than 600 miles south in Cornwall, one course has married ecology and golf to an extreme in a bid to draw more players. In among the orchard and cherry plantations adorning the estate, Gillyflower Golf Club’s trusty pigs are happy to help clear the course of roots and brambles.
“It saved the team a lot of time, and saved us using any machinery,” said Joe Micklethwaite, director of golf. “We have had lots of great feedback from visitors and members.”
Back at Brora, the club counters that having animals on its land costs too much, is unsafe and disrupts its vision for the course. A 19-page document sent to members includes pictures of damaged bunkers and greens pitted with hoofmarks — sometimes the electric fences around the greens don’t deter the beasts.
“I have taken Brora Golf Course as far as I possibly can, while sharing the land with animals,” course manager James MacBeath said. “If we were successful in removing them, I believe we would be able to improve turf quality and the golfer’s experience, move up the rankings and be judged as a golf course rather than a field.”
‘Real Treat’
It’s a viewpoint echoed by James Somerside, marketing director at IMG Golf Course Services. Clubs that can promise immaculate conditions and trueness of greens still hold sway over much of the golfing community, particularly the big spenders.
“Some of the most highly ranked courses in the world are also the most manicured, often with hundreds of thousands of pounds spent each year on course maintenance,” he said. “Some courses will barely have a blade of grass out of place. It is a real treat to play places that are so well kept.”
Up in Scotland, Ali Massey and Brora’s other full-time members have a decision to make. The club finds itself caught between perfectly manicured competitors, who wouldn’t dream of allowing animals near their course, and more natural clubs, who wouldn’t dream of getting rid of them.
After all, what would Machrihanish be like without its natural landscapes and roaming animals? Parker replied, under the watchful eye of one of the club’s signature black sheep displayed on his jacket.
“It’s a bit like mashed potato without sausage. They just go hand in hand.”