The Golfer’s Journal is reader supported. Please consider becoming a member to gain access to this and other quality features. Choose a subscription plan below.
Premium
Support independent golf storytelling, play where legends have walked and belong to golf’s most passionate society.
Create a free account to access three complimentary articles, or become a member to unlock all editorial and become a supporter of independent golf journalism.
MacKenzie, Jones, Seve and more on golf's dirtiest hazard
Light / Dark
Principal’s Nose. Himalaya. The Coffin. Church Pews. Hell. Bunkers have driven golfers mad since sheep first began burrowing for shelter in Scotland. So while you’re (hopefully) not at the bottom of one, take some time to appreciate the art and science of golf’s dirtiest hazard.
No. 4, Royal North Devon Golf Club | Westward Ho!, England. Photo by Phil Sheldon/Popperfoto via Getty Images
The accepted St. Andrews wisdom suggests that bunkers were at one time mere excavations made by sheep in search of shelter. Their urine killed the grass, creating sandy waste in the process. With increased scraping, the size expanded to the point of being suitable temporary accommodation. Some bunkers were so deeply scraped they housed a small flock. Voilà, a bunker.
Paul Daley, Links Golf, 2000
Francis Ouimet on the 13th hole of St. Andrews during the 1923 Walker Cup. Photo from the USGA Archives
When a ball lies in a bunker or sand, there shall be no impression made, nor sand or other obstacle removed by the club, or otherwise, before striking the ball. When a ball lies within a club length of a washing-tub, the tub may be removed, and when on clothes the ball may be lifted and dropped behind them.
Rules for the Game of Golf as It Is Played by the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews Over Their Links, 1858
Jose Manuel Carriles blasts out of a bunker during the 2000 British Open at St. Andrews. Photo by Stephen Munday/Allsport
The direct line to the hole is called the line of instinct, and to make a great hole you must break up that line in order to create a line of charm. The line of charm is the provocative path that shaves off distance and provides an ideal line into the green, usually by skirting bunkers and other hazards. The golfer wants the most direct line he can find to the hole, while the architect uses bunkers and other hazards to create risk and reward options that suggest the ideal line for the player, or the line of charm.
Max Behr, editor of Golf Illustrated (1914 to 1918), architect
No. 8, National Golf Links of America | Southampton, New YorkPhoto by Kohjiro Kinno
A bunker eating into a green is by far the most equitable way of giving a golfer full advantage for accurate play. It not only penalizes the man who is in it, but everyone who is wide of it.
Dr. Alister MacKenzie, Golf Architecture, 1920
No. 8, Rams Hill Golf Club | Borrego Springs, CaliforniaPhoto by Brian Oar
The difference between a sand trap and water hazard is the difference between a car crash and an airplane crash: You have a chance of recovering from a car crash.
Bobby Jones
No. 4, Costa Palmas Golf Club | Cabo San Lucas, MexicoPhoto by Christian Hafer
In bunker placement as in every other aspect of golf architecture, variety is the key. When bunkers are placed according to a pattern, the course is unsound and artificial in appearance. If they are placed in harmony with the topography, they add interest through their diversity, and complete the strategic puzzle.
Tom Doak, The Anatomy of a Golf Course, 1992
No. 18, Sand Valley Golf Resort | Nekoosa, WisconsinPhoto by Christian Hafer
They say I get in too many bunkers. But is no problem. I am the best bunker player.
-Seve Ballesteros
Bunkers are not a place for pleasure. They’re for punishment and repentance.
Old Tom Morris
Oakmont Country Club | Oakmont, Pennsylvania
The object of a bunker or trap is not only to punish a physical mistake, to punish lack of control, but also to punish pride and egotism.
C.B. Macdonald, architect (1855–1939)
No. 6, Augusta National Golf Club | Augusta, Georgia Photo by Kohjiro Kinno
What would golf be without hazards? It would probably have no more followers than skittles. It has been remarked that a few fleas are good for any dog—they keep him from forgetting that he is a dog. So the golfer must have hazards.
A.W. Tillinghast, “Bunkers and Hazards,” Vanity Fair, May 1916
No. 19, Pine Valley Golf Club | Pine Valley, New Jersey Photo by Christian Hafer