Robertson lays out a nine-hole course with 18 tees to replace the MacKenzie 12-holer.
The army base downsizes, and Robertson retires to Edinburgh. Golf participation plummets. Winter storms wreck the clubhouse and its contents. Rabbits reclaim the machair.
SI senior writer John Garrity climbs the beachside dune south of the Robertson nine and beholds a heaving landscape reminiscent of Ireland's Ballybunion. Garrity plays six imaginary holes in the dunes, finishing on a grassy shelf dangling over the beach. He calls his improvised course Askernish Old.
The dozen or so remaining members vote to keep Askernish Golf Club alive, but a campaign to build a clubhouse falls short. The volunteer greenkeeper position can't be filled. Tee markers and flagsticks go missing. Diehard members propose selling Overseas Life Memberships to raise money.
New resident Colin McGregor, a retired policeman, starts daily routine of grass cutting on the nine-hole course. Interest in golf is rekindled.