Using a Caddie in Scotland: What to Expect, What It Costs, and How to Tip

There's a man at the bag drop at one of the Ayrshire links courses we won't name, who has been carrying for visitors for thirty-eight years. He wears a wax jacket regardless of the weather. He calls everyone — the doctors, the businessmen, the Korean groups, the eight-handicap retirees from Boston — by their surname or their first name depending on whether they introduce themselves. He never gets the name wrong twice in a round. We've watched him read the same green four times in a morning and put a different putt down each time, and not once have we seen him surprised.

This is the caddie, in the form Scotland has produced for around a hundred and fifty years. It is a job, a craft, and a small inherited dignity, and it is worth knowing what you're hiring before you stand on the first tee in front of one.

What a caddie actually does

In the United States, at a resort, a caddie carries the bag, hands you the club you ask for, and rakes the bunker. In Scotland the role is broader. Your caddie is your local source. They will tell you that the wind on this hole is not what it seems on the others, because the dunes funnel it. They will tell you that the green is faster than the previous one because it sits in the sun all morning. They will tell you that the line on the dogleg is not the white house in the distance, regardless of what the yardage book says — the white house is at the wrong angle and the man who painted it died ten years ago.

You can ignore all of this if you want. You will play worse for it.

The caddie also has a quieter role: pacing. Most decent caddies will set the pace of the round in a way that gets your group round in the right time without you noticing. They will move ahead to your ball while you're still on the previous green, will already have your distance worked out by the time you arrive, will hand you the right club without comment. The good ones make the round seem easier than it is. That's the trick.

What it costs in 2026

A caddie fee at one of the famous Scottish links courses runs, broadly, as follows:

| Course | Caddie fee | Customary tip | |---|---|---| | Old Course, St Andrews | £85 | £20–£30 | | Muirfield | £80 | £20–£25 | | Royal Troon | £75 | £20 | | Prestwick | £60 | £15–£20 | | Carnoustie Championship | £75 | £20 | | Kingsbarns | £60 | £15 | | Royal Dornoch | £75 | £20 | | Castle Stuart | £70 | £15 | | Turnberry Ailsa | £85 | £25 |

The fee goes to the caddie, not the club — the club takes a small administrative cut at some venues but the bulk goes directly to the carrier. Tips are paid in cash on the 18th green or at the pro shop. Most caddies in Scotland are self-employed; the income is theirs.

For a typical visitor on a five-round trip with caddies on three of them, the total caddie spend is around £270 plus £60 in tips. Worth budgeting for.

When to hire one

Our honest position:

• Old Course, St Andrews: yes. The course is genuinely strange — shared greens, blind tee shots, lines that aren't lines. A first-time visitor will lose four shots without one.
• Muirfield: yes. The members will let you on, but they take the game seriously, and a caddie smooths the round.
• Royal Dornoch and Royal Aberdeen: yes for the first time. The angles into the greens matter more than the yardages and a caddie reads them better.
• Prestwick: strongly recommended. The 17th tee shot — the Alps — is not playable from sight alone.
• Kingsbarns and Castle Stuart: optional. Modern courses with clear sightlines and good signage. Worth it if you want a story-teller; not necessary for the score.
• Carnoustie: optional. The course is hard but the targets are visible.
• Turnberry Ailsa: optional. The lines are obvious; the course punishes mishits regardless.
• Anywhere else: usually no. Smaller courses are walkable, the locals know them, and you don't need a guide.

If you have one round of Scottish golf in your life, and that round is at the Old Course, hire a caddie. If you have ten rounds, hire two, on the courses where it'll matter most.

How to book one

At the famous courses: through the club's caddie master. Email or phone two weeks before the tee time. At the Old Course, the caddie programme is run by the St Andrews Links Trust — caddies are assigned on the day from a roster, but you can request a specific caddie if you've played with them before.

At smaller courses: ask at the pro shop on arrival, or phone ahead by 48 hours. Often a single caddie covers the day's bookings; sometimes there are none available.

At resorts (Turnberry, Gleneagles): through the concierge. They pre-book and you settle on the day.

There is no app. There is no online booking. There is, in 2026, a phone number on the club's website, and someone who will pick it up.

A note on requesting the same caddie

If you have a good round with a caddie, ask their name. Tip well. The next time you book, ask for them by name. Most clubs will note this and pair you with them again. We know one player, an American who has played the Old Course six times across thirty years, who has had the same caddie — Hamish, now in his late sixties — for the last four. The relationship is older than half the marriages we know.

On tipping

The tip is not an extra. It is built into the economics of the role. A caddie's day rate, before tips, is below what you'd pay a roofer or an electrician. The 25% tip on top is what makes the job pay properly.

Tip in cash, on the 18th green, with both hands if you want to do it the old-fashioned way. A handshake afterwards. Eye contact. A few words about the round — the shot they got right, the green they read for you, the moment in the day that mattered. They will remember you. You will remember them.

If you hand a caddie a £20 note in a folded envelope, you have done it correctly.

What not to do

• Don't ask the caddie to play your shot for you. They will have an opinion. They will tell it. Then it's your shot.
• Don't talk over their reads. If they tell you the putt is right-edge, the putt is right-edge.
• Don't ask their handicap. Most are good golfers. Most don't talk about it.
• Don't try to befriend them in a forced way. The relationship is professional. The friendliness comes naturally if you let it.
• Don't haggle the fee. It is the fee. Tip more if the round was good. Don't pay less if it was bad.
• Don't take the caddie out for drinks afterwards unless they suggest it. Some will. Many won't. Either is fine.

On the names

Most Scottish caddies are referred to by their first name once you've met them. Some go by initials or a nickname. Drew, Hamish, Gordon, Wee Davie, Big Ian. There is a famous caddie at Royal Dornoch known to a generation of American visitors as "the Professor" — his real name is Andrew, and he taught geography in Inverness before he retired and took up the bag.

These are people. The trick of being a good visitor is to remember that, beyond the transaction.

A final, slightly older point

The Scottish caddie tradition is fading, gently, in a way that we don't often acknowledge. The young men who used to caddy after school don't, now — better-paid jobs are easier. The men who caddy in their forties and fifties are mostly the last generation. By 2050 the role will probably look very different. Algorithms in apps, GPS yardage devices, the dwindling supply of locals who know the courses by feel.

Use a caddie now while the tradition still has its full weight. Pay them properly. Tip them properly. Tell whoever booked you the round that the caddie was the bit you remember.

That's the relationship. It's older than the modern game and it's worth a hundred yardage books, and it costs you, in the end, a hundred and ten quid.