Kittansett means "near the sea," and the name is honest. The course sits at the end of Butler Point, where the land runs out into Buzzards Bay and the water looks across toward Cape Cod. Nothing here is very high. The ground is flat and low, the wind never settles on one direction for long, and the whole place has an easy, unhurried feeling, as if it knows the sea will have the last word. The club began with Frederic Hood, who owned a Massachusetts rubber company and sat on the board of the USGA Green Section. In the early 1920s he and a small group of prominent Bostonians helped buy property on the peninsula. Hood first tried to interest Donald Ross, then hired William Flynn. With help from his frequent collaborator Hugh Wilson, Flynn drew a routing that started at Butler Point, wound north through marsh and forest, and came home in linksy fashion to an 18th green beside the first tee. Hood oversaw construction, executed the plans faithfully, and kept tweaking the layout for another twenty years. The course opened in 1922. For much of the club's life, Hood was remembered as the designer, and Ross's name sometimes stood ahead of Flynn's. Then, in the early 2000s, plans bearing Flynn's name turned up for 12 of the 18 holes, and they essentially matched what was in the ground. Those drawings put Flynn at the head of the architecture. Yet Hood built the course and kept shaping it for two decades, and there is every reason to give the two men equal credit. Flynn saw it, and Hood made it real and lived with it. The holes carry Flynn's selective boldness. On eight of the longer holes, the fairway stops after the landing area and starts again near the green. Flynn considered this a modern feature, and he was influenced by Pine Valley. The breaks may also have eased mowing and drainage on a site where moving water has always been a challenge. Either way, they give the long holes a stop-and-start rhythm that keeps you honest. Then there is the 3rd, the signature hole, a 165-yard par 3 that plays as an island. The tee shot must carry sand and water to a small green, and when the wind is unkind and pushes the ball offline, the next shot comes from the beach, if the tide is out. It captures the course in a single swing: pretty, exposed, and indifferent to your plans. In 1953 Kittansett hosted the Walker Cup, and the United States beat Great Britain and Ireland 9-3. The sea has come for the course more than once. A sign near the seventh tee marks four floods, in 1938, 1944, 1954, and 1991, with the highest water on August 31, 1954, during Hurricane Carol. Time did its own quieter flooding. Over half a century trees filled in, and bunker and green shapes were simplified. In 1995 the club hired Gil Hanse, then just starting out on his own, to turn the clock back to the 1920s. His restoration took shape in the late 1990s, and his firm has kept at it ever since. Hundreds of trees came down, uncovering grassed-over mounds beside the fairways and opening the views of the bay. Disused bunkers returned to play, and others were rebuilt to their original size and composition. Today the course closely resembles what Flynn drew and Hood built. The routing holds one more gift. At its center, the 14th green, 15th tee, fifth green, and sixth tee all meet, allowing other loops. On cold, blustery days members play a recognized nine, holes 10 through 14 and then 6 through 9, mostly sheltered by trees. Even near the sea, Kittansett leaves you a place to hide from it. Just down the road sits Marion Golf Club, a public, affordable nine-holer laid out by a young George Thomas in 1904, whose operations a group of Kittansett members recently took over. Its rough-hewn simplicity is part of its charm, and this corner of Buzzards Bay has always done well by a light touch.