A bedraggled castaway happily plays golf instead of attempting to attract the attention of a passing boat and plane. His partner looks on, unimpressed.

I’m wondering if it’s latent memories of Jim Bacchus playing golf on Gilligan’s Island that is the influence for this cartoon. Perhaps that combined with the Johnny Castaway screensaver of many years ago, though I don’t recall seeing Johnny play golf.

On Gilligan’s Island, there was an abundant supply of palm trees and coconuts. Castaway golf was not uncommon there. Here there is only one palm tree and two (visible) coconuts. This sole tree has been sacrificed, not to burn as a distress signal for passing would-be rescuers to spot, but to serve as makeshift golfing equipment.

I’m not a regular golfer by any means. I have a three iron and that’s it. As a teenager, I used to hit golf balls around the farm where they would instantly become lost in long grass or deep imprints produced by cow hooves during the wetter months. My golf buggy was a Kawasaki dirt-bike which sped up the process of getting to the vicinity of the lost balls, but in no way hastened the actual seek and find process. Then there was always the chance of golf hazards such as snakes in the summer months. Our district had mainly tigers, copperheads and browns. Water hazards included dams, a swamp and a creek.

Tiring of the endless search for golf balls, the routine later became hitting tennis balls on the lawn around house on a home-made course. I would have loved to have used golf balls there. Inevitable broken glass would have been the result so tennis balls were a necessity. Putting with a three iron wasn’t so easy, still it would be considerably easier than hitting coconuts along sand with a golf club made from a palm tree.