Golf is Dangerous

The shot above set off a wave of events that, for the most part, got me rethinking my whole obsession with hitting golf balls out into the ocean. For over 15 years now, there has been one consistent activity that I partake in whenever I go away on a trip. Whether it is camping, my honeymoon or a golf trip with the guys - I have always had the need to pound a few balls out into a lake, a river or the ocean, which is always within walking distance from our vacation spot. The more that I think about it now, the more I realize it was that famous episode of Seinfeld when George lives the lie of a Marine Biologist and pulls out Kramer's titleist from a whale's blowhole (still the best hole in one story I have heard to this day... fast forward the first 30 seconds) that inspired me to carry on with this odd obsession.

There was one year when we were camping and I had brought an entire shag bag of range balls. It was great fun because we each took a turn ripping an old three wood out into the lake. Sometimes there are things to aim at, like people on floaties, and other times it's just a long drive contest. Heh.

The photo below was my next tee box, and as soon as I saw it from our balcony I mentally booked a tee time with that sucker at some point during the weekend. Saturday afternoon ended up being the day and time that the latest installment would take place. When you look at it from the balcony it just looks like a rock with some grass on top... the perfect tee box right?

In fact, it was a dream tee box. I had never seen something like it before. Usually I just find a place on the beach and hit from there. Other times I find a dock and hit it right off the deck. This time was special because not only was the view and hitting area perfect, there was actual grass to hit off! It felt like it was my destiny to make it out to that rock and pound a few into the sunset.

With drivers, beers and golf balls in hand, we made our way to the beach while the girls had a nap. We had played 9 holes earlier where I happened to pull off something I had never done before on any 9 hole adventure. I made 9 three's in a row. I hit all 9 greens in regulation and 2 putted all 9 greens to shoot 2 under. How? Well there were two drivable par 4's (245 and 210 yards each) and I hit those greens as well. Good times. Kinda a brag I know, but hey this is my space!

Anyway, here is a picture of the rock before we made the climb up:


When we arrived at the top we were greated by a Canadian Goose:

She didn't hang out too long. She made it clear that we were not wanted and did not appreciate us being up there. I was a bit confused because I knew that people were going up there all the time. I mean look at the path that has been worn in by passers by.

She hissed a couple of times and then flew off! Down to the ocean below she went and joined up with her partner. I assume he was a male, but they all look the same to me. He was pissed off and didn't appreciate us being up there one bit. When the bird flew off we looked down on the ground and guess what we found:

Yep - 8 eggs! Needless to say we were very shocked to see this little nest. However, we kept out distance and did not disturb or touch anything whatsoever. We did, however, continue on with the plan. Hit the balls out into the ocean. We came with a plan and wanted to see it through.

We kept our distance and began to hit a few shots. No big deal, we stuck to the opposite side of the nest and pounded a couple of drivers. We took some video and took a few shots along with the ones above. Then, I think I took it a bit too far. I decided to hit a shot out into the sunset so I need to aim a bit further left. So I tee'd one up and fired one about 30 yards to the right of the Geese below.

Well this is where the Dad got really pissed. In hindsight this whole adventure was a mistake. Not much I could do about it at the time, but I guess the loud sound of the ball against the club face must have startled the Dad Goose because he took off in flight and so did the Mom. They both took off in seperate directions and ten seconds later they were heading straight for us from both sides. We were being dive bombed by these parents who thought, possibly, that we might actually be hitting these goose eggs and not our golf balls. The Dad was literally two feet from us as he buzzed by. We were scared! ;)

The mom landed at the entrance way to the top of the rock and basically started screeching at us relentlessly. She was hissing and flapping her wings. At this point we were feeling pretty bad about the whole situation. We didn't mean to bring any harm to the birds or their eggs. In fact, we kept telling the goose this information in the hopes that she would somehow understand what we were trying to say. For some reason, she just didn't understand....

Meanwhile the Dad Goose flew off to go and get help. Or so we assumed. Soon after he returned with another goose and they once again buzzed by us showing us their displeasure with us still being up on THEIR rock.

Once the mom was up there again, we decided to pack it in. We still had about 3-4 balls left each, but we didn't want to draw anymore attention to the situation and decided to leave down the back rock face instead. It was a tough climb down as there weren't any real worn out "stairs" but we managed and the mother goose resumed her position on top of her kids.

All in all, it was definitely an odd experience. I have never had such a run in with these types of birds before, other than the golf course. I won't try and condone what we did, or make excuses for some of the choices we made. Overall, nothing was disturbed and no birds were hurt in this adventure. However, it surely has changed my view on the whole process and it certainly has openned my eyes to re-evaluate the whole decision to do something similar in the future.

Maybe I'll just stick to the driving range from now on... but probably not.