Pete Dye built as many memorable courses in soggy, hard-to-tame ground as anyone in the game, but Old Marsh pushed even his comfort zone. He once said the property’s marshes and open grasslands—440 acres tucked into a nature preserve between Jupiter and North Palm Beach—felt more like Africa than South Florida, and simply getting the wetland approvals and permits in place took years. The finished routing plays like a quiet expedition through a sanctuary: a continuous chain of secluded corridors, with holes stitched along narrow ribbons of higher land that weave through a patchwork of natural and man-shaped marsh. Unlike a lot of Dye’s louder 1980s work, Old Marsh keeps a lower profile to protect sightlines and favor a ground-hugging, bump-and-run style—until the punchy par-4 fifth, his familiar Alps homage, where a blind approach must climb over a looming two-story mound guarding the green.