A little bit of Ireland in Kohlerfor Herb

WHEN asked by a journalist why the set-up at his superb complex at Whistling Straits has such an Irish flavour, Herb Kohler’s face lights up: “Ireland”, he exclaims with undisguised relish, “I love the place.”

Kohler is of Austrian extraction without a drop of Irish blood flowing in his veins. And yet his love for all things Irish shines through and is highlighted by his burning ambition to make Whistling Straits clones of Royal Portrush and Ballybunion.

He and his good friend Pete Dye have visited Ireland on at least 12 occasions and it was on those travels that Kohler dreamt up the notion of owning his very own links in his native Wisconsin and as close to the town of Kohler as possible. The town of Kohler? Yes, the place is called after the family which for more than a century has brought prosperity to a mainly farming community.

In the latter half of the 19th century, Herb described how Austrian immigrant John Michael Kohler bought a small foundry in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, and set to making agricultural implements for local farmers. In 1883, Kohler heated one of his existing cast-iron products and coated it with enamel powder. When furnished with legs, it could be used as a bathing tub. Kohler Co was suddenly in the plumbing business.

That's how it began and is one of the main reasons this area now has two magnificent 36 hole complexes, the original at nearby Blackwolf Run (called after the local Indian tribe) and now, of course, Whistling Straits.

!"I have tramped the courses of Ireland many times with Pete Dye", said Kohler by way of explaining the strong Irish element to his latest creation.

"We love the land where you live. It's part of the roots of the game, one of the traditions of the game."

Looking across towards a palatial structure, Kohler gave one of many hearty laughs and continued: "You won't see too many clubs in Ireland with that kind of clubhouse. I thought that an Irish stone farmstead replica would suit this land better than anything else I could think of. So that's why there's an Irish farmstead here in the guise of a clubhouse. And outside, 365 days of the year, flies the Irish tricolour."

Then his gaze came to rest on what he described as "that three-sided Irish barn over there. Today, we use that for group dining.

As we pass mock signposts indicating Portrush is 3607 miles away and Ballybunion just a little less, the man's love for Ireland is now in full flow. And it filled one with pride that such a man should think so highly of our country

"You can't build anything the same here to what you have. You can only create a flavour. You are on an ocean. You have these magnificent dunelands. Interestingly, ten miles south of here we have some of the best duneland but we can't get 500 acres out of it in a single property; it's all chewed up in many owners. Then my ancestors gave 300 acres of duneland to the damned state."

"How much did Whistling Straits cost?", I ventured. He tots it up on his fingers and comes up with an astonishing answer. "Less than $25 million, but not much less."

That is indeed some bargain. But remember you don't do anything more than play golf at Whistling Straits. This is not your fancy country club. It's strictly for golfers and preferably those who like a tough course:

And the Irishness of it all.