Taranaki’s southern tip is home to a small coastal town called Hawera. Located on a cliff-top overlooking the Tasman Sea, the town has a stunning golf course.
My long love affair with links golf led me to Hawera Golf Club; I had read about its open-links fairways and cliff-top views. The brand new Huffer golf clothing range I had on, had me feeling smart and ready to impress. Note that Huffer does not sponsor me, I do buy my own clothes, or my wife does it for me!
The only car in the carpark was mine, which I found odd. The sun was shining, the weather was warm, and it seemed like a good day for golf. As one might expect from a coastal clifftop golf course, there was a wee breeze.
“Egmont” – the first hole at Hawera Golf Club. The Hole Naming Committee wasted no time paying homage to that quintessential Taranaki golfing tradition. And no, you couldn’t see the mountain, you can never see the mountain – does it even exist outside of mythical pictures?
This opening hole offers a gentle introduction to the course, sheltered from coastal winds by its tree-lined fairway. But don’t be lulled into complacency – it’s merely a prelude to what lies ahead: a dramatic cliff-top links course that will test you.
By the second hole, “Lupin,” the true character of the course revealed itself. Welcome to links golf in all its glory! While the website modestly warns about the deceptive nature of those wide-open fairways, they’re not kidding – few players here match their handicap, so they say. My own scorecard told that tale: bogey, double bogey, double bogey, bogey before finally securing a par on the fifth. Nice start smart Huffer golf man.
The coastal winds were asserting their dominance on proceedings. The third hole, aptly named “Smoko,” where my full 7-iron on a 123-metre par 3 came up 20 meters short. This wily old Links monster was definitely smoking me.
The wind was relentless – a constant companion that challenged every shot. It fought me face-on as I walked, punished any hint of an open club face -taking balls wherever it pleased, and even blew my greenside chips clean off the putting surface at one point. Up, down, sideways – it was an exhausting mental and physical battle against an invisible opponent.
I’d come to this corner of New Zealand seeking work-life balance. Sean Connery once said something profound about golf – how it demands your complete attention, making it impossible to think of anything else. He called it unfair, obsessive, revealing, yet dignified. Well, here I was in this windy wonderland, watching my golf balls dance to nature’s tune, my mental fortitude crumbling with each swipe and each gust of wind. That much-praised golfing “dignity” blew off into the ocean along with a few choice expletives on the 7th following by another double bogey.
The setting at Hawera Golf Club is undeniably magical. The course itself is a pleasure to walk, with perfectly crafted humps and hollows. Its layout is challenging yet engaging – minimal rough, sparse trees, few bunkers, and seemingly benign flat greens. Sounds straightforward enough, right? Don’t be fooled. The course’s apparent simplicity is its greatest deception, as evidenced by more misery and my back-to-back bogeys at the turn. You do get a couple of holes of respite at the turn this is the farthest part of the course from the ocean.
The course might have minimal rough, sparse trees, & only a few bunkers – but if you look closely at the tee signs you will see the omnipresent threat of OUT OF BOUNDS. It looks like they bought a job lot of signs with the same hole map on them. I avoided the OB all day mainly by aiming so far to the other side of the fairway, I ended up miles from anywhere most of the time. There are white stakes everywhere you look across the course.
By the time I reached “O’Callaghan’s,” a seemingly innocent 115-meter par 3, I was battle-worn. The wind had rattled through into my bones, my scorecard told a grim tale: six double bogeys, six bogeys, and just three pars. I’d lost sight of why I was here – to escape daily pressures, not create new ones. Standing on the 16th tee, I took a deep breath. Simple enough – flat, 115 meters, just a smooth 9-iron. Just ignore that OUT OF BOUNDS sign. Ten minutes later, another colourful expletive spat into the air, double bogey number seven was etched into the card.
The climb to the 17th tee felt Himalayan. My clubs weighed a ton on my back, my legs protested at coming out, and my eyes stung – from tears or wind, I couldn’t tell. At the summit, I dropped my bag by the tee marker and looked up. The view stopped me cold. Here was the course in all its glory – majestic, vast, and untamed.
Then I saw the hole name: “Outlook.” The irony hit me like a perfectly struck 1 iron. Here, where my office Outlook couldn’t reach me, where emails couldn’t pile up, where meetings couldn’t be scheduled – I’d found true perspective. Just me, the ocean vista, and a chance at redemption. Oh, and that ever-present wind.
My best drive of the day split the fairway, leading to a satisfying par on this hole that had somehow restored my golfing soul.
Hawera Golf Course, Fairfield Links, didn’t give me a victory in the traditional sense. But I’d faced its challenges standing tall, answering its questions with persistence and some swearing. William Wallace’s famous battle cry came to mind, asking whether you’ll fight and die on your feet or cower and live on your knees. As I retreated to my car, fleeing the wind’s relentless assault, I knew I’d chosen the former. Though I suspect even Wallace himself would have welcomed this particular strategic withdrawal.
I will return to Hawera Golf Club, it is a genuine golf course, a good-looking challenge that needs to be tamed. Don’t drive by Hawera without driving into this place, unless you are not up to a fight.