Local looper recalls a Royal old time in Dollymount

CADDIES ROLE: One of the retiring locker-room attendants at The Royal Dublin Golf Club relates tales from days spent at the links at Dollymount, writes COLIN BYRNE

IN 1943, the old pavilion-styled wooden clubhouse that stood on the North Bull Island in Dollymount burned to the ground. It was the clubhouse of The Royal Dublin Golf Club, and with it went much of the club records and folklore that had been passed down from members and associates.

Earlier this year two of the club’s locker-room attendants retired from their duties and, at the risk of their recollections and stories about the club going with them back over the wooden bridge and up to Clontarf, I met one of the recent retirees, Anthony Birney, to catch up on some of the memories he had in his association for over half a century with Royal Dublin.

In 1954, the young Birney, or Anto as we all knew him as he gave us his personal welcome in the locker-room on arrival, was one of the 20 caddies that looped for the members back in the post-war era. There were 20 caddies but only about 10 members took caddies. So the local loopers were always on the look-out for a car, and particularly a strange car, trundling gently over the famous Dollymount bridge.

One particular day Anto and “Clicky” Brown were waiting in the car-park as an unfamiliar vehicle entered the club. The car was driven by a chauffeur and his boss was, naturally, in the back seat. There was the shuffle of optimism in the caddie shack.

The boss was, in Anto’s recollection, an American businessman and, as he had nobody else to play with, he got his chauffeur to peg it up with him. Anto was guiding the industrialist and “Clicky” had the unenviable task of steering the errant chauffeur around the links. The chauffeur was better at driving his boss’s car than driving his golf ball.

Royal Dublin is a classic, old-fashioned links with nine holes more or less going in one direction and the homeward nine running the opposite way. At the bottom of the course lay the old St Anne’s clubhouse, which of course was welcome relief to golfers who had had a rough outward nine. It was also the end of many a bad round, as the St Anne’s refreshments often proved more enticing than another nine holes of bad golf.

The American and his driver spent a while in the neighbouring course’s clubhouse and as they re-emerged the boss realised that, in boredom, Clicky had hit a huge drive down the 10th hole. When he realised who hit it he immediately took the bag off Clicky’s back and threw it over the chauffeur’s shoulders. The caddie had been elevated to player status due to the driving limitations of the driver.

Anto also recalled the time when the same caddie, who was not that familiar with foreigners at the time, turned up looking for work at the inaugural international Jeyes Pro-Am. The caddie master had arranged for Clicky to work for a big, tall Englishman with an equally large golf bag. When asked by his fellow caddie who he was caddying for, he replied, pointing to the tall man beside the big bag, “Yer man over there, the long fella, Wolfe Tone”. His employer turned out to be the English professional Guy Wolstenholme.

Caddying in the ’60s at Royal Dublin was not a reliable source of income, so Anto got a job with Bertie Smyth, the club-maker. His workshop was located behind the pro-shop, past the first tee. There were about 14 people working in the club manufacturers then and Anto was employed as a gripper. He put on the grips and packed the clubs which were then retailed mainly in Clerys Department Store in Dublin. Bertie Smyth had maintained the tradition of club-making handed down by his father, Fred, who was employed as the club professional between 1920 and 1941.

In the late ’50s, Anto saw the arrival of Christy O’Connor Snr, who brought three of his nephews with him to Dollymount. Seán, Frank and Christy Jnr all served their time in some capacity in the club. Anto struck up a relationship with Christy Jnr, who at the time did not have a car so Anto’s Beetle was Junior’s means of transport.

There is a dying breed of associates to older golf clubs called artisans. The original idea of the artisan was developed in times when there was less pressure on the course from the membership and the club let the artisans play at off-peak times. In return, they helped out on the course, or on big competition days. In the ’60s they were invaluable in the summer months at directing pedestrians safely across the links to Dollymount Strand.

Back then the beach-goers would take the bus to the Clontarf Road and walk over the wooden bridge on to the North Bull Island and cross the right-of-way over the links at the back of the 16th and out the other side by the second green. The perimeter fence only went as far as the fifth hole and Anto recalls the embarrassing moments the artisans had in the grassy mounds alongside the fifth fairway which was a popular spot with courting couples.

The worst artisan golfer at the time was a six handicapper, so they obviously had plenty of time to hone their skills on the links on completion of duties. The Royal Dublin Artisans won two interclub championships, and one involved a fourball final of Mick Murphy, off scratch, and Syl Edwards, off two, who beat the legends Tom and Joe Craddock from Malahide.

Anto moved into the clubhouse in 1994 as locker-room attendant and served there until his retirement earlier this year alongside his colleague, Luke Maher. There was a presentation in the clubhouse to the two long-serving locker-room attendants in the club last month.

There are no caddies really left at the links, the artisans are a dying breed with the youngest one now in his 60s, and the locker-room attendants have gone.

On Tuesday, May 12th, there is a Christy O’Connor pro-am at the links to acknowledge Christy Snr’s 50 years of association with Royal Dublin.

It might be a good time for a story-teller to collect some anecdotes of what it was like to be golfing on a wind-swept links in the summers of the 1960s. Who knows what tales are lurking behind the marram grasses of the old links at Dollymount.