One More Thing to Pack

Most Spellman family road trips begin the same way. We load the BMW X5 with far more than we should need, make sure our 18-month-old son, Cypress, has everything he could possibly require, and point the car toward our next adventure.

This trip began that way too. It just did not end on a road.

Our destination was Haig Point, a private golf and residential community on Daufuskie Island, South Carolina. The island sits near Hilton Head, between one of America’s most famous golf destinations and the historic shoreline of Savannah. There is no bridge connecting Daufuskie to the mainland. At some point, the X5 had taken us as far as it could go.

We handed our luggage to the ferry valet, an amenity I would come to appreciate even more once I understood the logistics of island life, parked the X5 and prepared to board Haig Point’s passenger ferry.

There was just one problem. We missed it.

We had arrived with plenty of time for the 10:30 ferry, but we were waiting for the kind of boarding announcement you would expect at an airport. None came. The ferry quietly departed without us, leaving the Spellman family with an unexpected opportunity to become better acquainted with the terminal. Fortunately, departures run regularly, and before long we were finally on our way.

That simple transition changed the entire feeling of the trip. A family getaway that had started on the interstate suddenly required a boat. Our vehicle would remain behind, and once we reached the island, our transportation would be a golf cart.

It sounded unusual, interesting and adventurous.

It was all of those things, and quite a bit more.

Before the trip, I knew Haig Point by reputation. I had heard about the Rees Jones Signature Course and knew it was one of the Lowcountry’s respected private layouts. What I did not understand was Daufuskie itself. I had no idea how people lived there, how the community functioned, or how quickly the island would begin challenging my assumptions about convenience, isolation and what constitutes a luxury lifestyle.

I was going to play golf. I did not expect to spend the ride home wondering whether I could live there.

Welcome to a Different Rhythm

Arriving by ferry creates a sense of separation that no entrance gate can replicate. Daufuskie is not a themed version of island life built beside a highway. The water is real. The logistical tradeoffs are real. So is the feeling that the mainland has been left behind.

Golf carts are the preferred way to move around Haig Point, though describing all of Daufuskie as completely car-free would be inaccurate. Some conventional and service vehicles operate on the island. Visitors arriving by passenger ferry, however, do not simply drive their own cars aboard. For us, the golf cart became the family vehicle, sightseeing platform and a large part of the fun.

We stayed in the Strachan Mansion, a house with a journey nearly as improbable as our own. Built in 1910 on St. Simons Island, Georgia, it was moved to Haig Point in 1986 aboard two barges during a three-day trip. Today, its four guest suites welcome members, guests and prospective residents visiting Haig Point.

Calling it a hotel would miss its character. The experience felt closer to staying at an intimate bed-and-breakfast, with antique furnishings, comfortable gathering spaces and the quiet sense that the building still belonged to another era. Downstairs, the Mansion Pub provided a place for a drink and casual conversation, while the General Store carried a modest selection of necessities.

That last word, necessities, takes on greater significance when traveling with a toddler.

Parents know that leaving home with an 18-month-old can resemble a small military deployment. Diapers, snacks, clothes, backup clothes and emergency versions of items you hope not to need all compete for cargo space. On the mainland, forgetting something usually means a quick drive to a supermarket or pharmacy. Daufuskie has convenience markets, including the one in the Strachan Mansion and another at Freeport Marina, but it does not have a traditional full-service grocery store. There is no hospital on the island, although Haig Point has fire and on-island emergency services.

None of that made the trip unmanageable. It simply required more thought. It also revealed the essential bargain of Daufuskie life: the water that complicates convenience is the same water that protects the island’s character.

Exploring at Golf-Cart Speed

Some destinations are best understood through an itinerary. Haig Point was best understood from the seat of a golf cart.

We drove without feeling the need to hurry, following the island’s quiet roads at roughly 20 miles per hour and taking in a community that felt both refined and wonderfully removed. Traveling this way changed our pace. A golf cart encourages exploration. You notice turns you might otherwise pass and stop when something catches your attention.

For our family, one of those stops was the Haig Point Equestrian Center.

The visit became one of the highlights of the trip. Allison and I loved watching Cypress interact with some of the horses in the stable. Golf may have been the reason I first knew the Haig Point name, but seeing our son encounter the horses gave the trip another dimension. It reminded me that the best golf travel often includes moments that have nothing to do with a scorecard.

That balance matters more to me now than it once did. I still judge a destination by the quality of its golf, but I also notice whether Allison is enjoying the experience and whether Cypress has room to explore. At Haig Point, the golf cart rides and equestrian center turned my assignment into our adventure.

We also met residents, and their affection for the island was unmistakable. Daufuskie would not suit everyone. Living without a bridge means planning around ferry schedules, deliveries and trips to the mainland. Yet the people we encountered did not speak as if they were tolerating those differences. They had chosen them.

Haig Point supports that choice with a delivery and valet system connecting its Hilton Head embarkation point with homes on the island. Groceries, luggage and other supplies can be transported across and delivered to residents. The infrastructure does not erase the realities of island living, but it makes them far more practical than an outsider might assume.

The real estate surprised me too. Nothing about Haig Point should be described as inexpensive, but some of the available properties felt more attainable than I expected when compared with luxury communities in today’s market. Factor in the setting, golf, equestrian facilities, water access and privacy, and the value proposition becomes interesting.

That was when a question I had not expected began forming: Could we actually live here?

Twenty Holes and No Ordinary Routing

Any discussion of Haig Point eventually returns to the golf course, as it should.

Rees Jones first designed the Signature Course in 1986, working with co-designer Greg Muirhead. Jones returned in 2007 to restore the greens and update the course, extending the championship yardage. The club also has the nine-hole Osprey Course, giving Haig Point 29 holes in total, but the Signature Course contains the feature golfers remember most: it has 20 holes.

Haig Point is also preparing for its next chapter through Project Harmony, a $40 million investment in the club’s golf courses, infrastructure and residential community.

More precisely, both the eighth and seventeenth offer alternate seaside holes. The more exposed Calibogue versions sit closer to the water, while the Haig alternatives provide another routing. The design allows the club to present different playing experiences and provides less-exposed options when conditions along Calibogue Sound become inhospitable.

I had heard the story expressed more dramatically, that Jones feared hurricanes might eventually claim two waterfront holes and therefore designed replacements. The verified history is a little more nuanced. The alternate holes do provide protection against the vulnerability of the exposed seaside routing, but they are also an architectural choice that gives golfers different angles, carries and wind conditions. They are not simply spare parts waiting for a disaster.

Fortunately, they have never had to become that.

The result is a course that feels inseparable from its environment. The marshes and wetlands are not scenery pasted around the perimeter. They influence decisions. Calibogue Sound establishes the scale of the setting, while the wind can change the requirements of a hole from one round to the next. Mature live oaks and coastal vegetation frame corridors, and the strongest holes ask golfers to decide how much of the landscape they are prepared to challenge.

Jones understood the possibilities immediately.

“I had never seen a property quite like Haig Point,” he has said, pointing to its ocean, sound, marshes and vegetation as the elements needed to create a world-class course.

The course’s reputation supports his conviction. The Signature Course appeared on Golf Digest’s America’s 100 Greatest ranking from 1989 through 2000 and remains among the publication’s top courses in South Carolina. Those accolades establish its pedigree, but rankings do not fully explain its appeal.

The journey is part of the golf.

You leave your car behind. You cross Calibogue Sound by ferry. Your clubs are transferred, and the anticipation builds before you reach the first tee. By the time the round begins, Haig Point has already separated itself from a normal day of resort golf.

Then the course takes over. Jones presents demanding carries, strategic bunkering, changing coastal winds and enough routing variety to make a second look feel necessary. The exposed par 3s receive much of the attention, and understandably so, but the larger achievement is how naturally the golf belongs to the island.

I finished wanting another round.

That may be the most meaningful compliment I can give a course. Plenty of layouts are enjoyable once. The better ones leave unfinished business. At Haig Point, 18 holes are not technically the end, and one visit certainly did not feel like enough.

The Island Beyond the Gates

Our time centered on Haig Point, and I left aware of how much of Daufuskie we had yet to see.

Even within the community, I would like more time to explore the restored 1873 Haig Point Lighthouse overlooking Calibogue Sound. Beyond Haig Point, there is another Daufuskie waiting for a future visit. I want to travel the island’s dirt roads, spend time at Freeport Marina and visit the Daufuskie Island History Museum. I want to better understand the Gullah heritage that shaped the island and see sites such as the First Union African Baptist Church and the historic schoolhouses preserved along the island trail.

There is also Daufuskie’s creative side, including local studios such as the Iron Fish Gallery, along with casual island stops like the Old Daufuskie Crab Company at Freeport Marina. These are not experiences I am pretending we squeezed into this trip. They are reasons to return.

That distinction matters because Daufuskie should not be reduced to the acreage inside any single gate. Haig Point offers the polished private-club experience, but the broader island carries generations of history, culture and resilience. A future visit should make room for both.

Luxury Without the Usual Definition

Luxury is often measured by how quickly a destination can provide whatever a guest wants. Daufuskie proposes a different definition.

Here, luxury can mean the absence of a bridge. It can mean traveling by water, moving at golf-cart speed and accepting that a supermarket run requires more planning than turning left at the next traffic light. It can mean privacy protected by geography and a community held together partly because everyone has made the same unconventional choice.

There are obvious tradeoffs. A family with a young child thinks about medical access. Anyone considering a home must understand ferry schedules, delivery systems and the practical realities of getting on and off the island. Romance should never replace due diligence.

Yet convenience has costs of its own. Traffic, noise, crowds and relentless development can gradually strip a place of the qualities that made it appealing. Daufuskie has held on to something increasingly difficult to find: inhabited island life in the continental United States, close to major Lowcountry destinations but physically separated from them.

That separation changes the people who visit, at least for a little while. It changed us.

The Final Score

Golfers should visit Haig Point because the Rees Jones Signature Course deserves the trip. Reaching the first tee by ferry elevates the anticipation, but the course is not dependent on novelty. Its coastal setting, strategic demands and 20-hole configuration give it an identity strong enough to stand on its own.

Families should consider it because Haig Point offers more than golf. Our rides in the golf cart, our stay in the Strachan Mansion and Cypress meeting the horses became as memorable as anything on the scorecard.

Anyone intrigued by island living should visit for a different reason. Haig Point makes the proposition tangible. You can see the homes, meet the people and experience both the appeal and the practical adjustments instead of merely imagining life across the water.

I arrived knowing the name of the golf course but almost nothing about the island. I left wanting to play again, explore beyond the gates and understand Daufuskie more deeply.

Could I live there?

I am not ready to answer that question. With a young family, access and logistics matter. So do schools, healthcare and the thousand small conveniences we rarely appreciate until they are no longer a short drive away.

But the fact that I am still asking tells you everything.

Our BMW X5 carried us most of the way to Haig Point. The ferry took us the rest. Somewhere between the mainland and Daufuskie, a golf trip became something larger: a glimpse of another way to live. I do not believe our first crossing will be our last.