The famous fog that blankets the West Coast in the summer was lifting around the Monterey Peninsula. The air was still, and the sound of our group’s quiet conversation carried across the fairways. A family of deer played in the unusually long grass, left to grow for the upcoming Walker Cup, the seals were sunbathing on the warm rocks and the sea otters were playing with one of my golf balls that I had donated into the Pacific Ocean. Four holes in, I caught myself thinking that Cypress Point feels less like your everyday golf course and more like a dream state. It is a feeling that seems to stretch all the way back to the people who first imagined the potential of this corner of the coast, to Marion Hollins and Samuel Finley Brown Morse. Two incredibly successful individuals that zagged away from the social perils of New York during the gilded age and found themselves a part of the exotic coastal nature and Spanish colonial homes of the Monterey Peninsula.

Now, I should admit from the outset, I am no authority on Cypress Point or on Dr. Alister MacKenzie’s written works. I certainly cannot quote him verbatim, nor have I ticked off every course of his around the world. I only have the perspective of a visiting golfer, and one who is prone to interpreting things through his own lens. With that caveat in mind, what I felt here was less about conventional wisdom of the ‘Good Doctor’ that tends to permeate through his existing work. The golf course at Cypress Point, is one that has an undercurrent of joy. And for that, I think we may have Marion Hollins to thank.

Photo By Julian P. Graham/Loon Hill Studios

Morse, the developer, provided the capital and the confidence to shape this stretch of coastline. Hollins, though, gave it its character. She was supremely talented and lived a life that might have been lifted from the pages of The Great Gatsby. Officially, she was employed as ‘Athletic Director’ of Del Monte Properties. Her remit was to create and implement sporting programmes for a prosperous clientele, the sort of people who had succeeded in the American Dream and wanted a suitable playground in which to spend it. That was the job description in black and white. The reality was far more interesting. Hollins was, in every sense, the region’s director of fun.

She had an eye for adventure, a talent for sport and an energy that seemed to bend people to her vision. Where others might have seen an inhospitable coastline of dunes, pines and rocky outcrops, she saw possibility. She was the one who persuaded MacKenzie to take on Cypress Point, ensuring that the course would carry both his strategic brilliance and her sense of playfulness. The result is a course that tests and thrills in equal measure. There are moments when the golf is serious, demanding and even daunting, yet there is always a thread of delight that runs through it. That, to me, feels like Hollins’ lasting imprint.

Playing Cypress Point today, especially on the eve of the Walker Cup, is to feel that legacy alive. It is impossible not to be caught up in the rhythm of it all, the variety, the sheer beauty of each hole, and the way the course invites courage without ever losing its smile. Hollins may not be the household name mentioned this week, credited for its current state, but her influence is everywhere on this dreamscape.

Which brings me back to the point of it all! If Marion Hollins were alive in 2025, what would she make of what Cypress Point has become? I cannot answer with authority, but my hunch is that she should be proud. Proud of the vision, proud of the joy and proud that fun still lives at the very centre of this extraordinary place.

Happy Golfing