The Pandion Club: Inside the Heathland-Style Golf Course and Timeless Low-Country Clubhouse Coming to Estero, Fla.

On a rare, serene parcel in Estero—minutes from everything yet worlds apart—a new private club is taking shape. When it opens in late 2027 (pending approvals), The Pandion Club will offer something increasingly uncommon in American golf: a pure, walkable, golf-first experience rooted in classic design traditions and wrapped in timeless Southern architecture.

Set on the former site of Old Corkscrew Golf Club, Pandion is being shaped by world-renowned golf course architect Kyle Phillips and clubhouse architect Matthew Kragh, principal of MHK Architecture. Together, they are building more than a course and clubhouse—they’re crafting a cohesive, rhythmic home club.

A Heathland Heart in Southwest Florida

Kyle Phillips

Phillips, whose four-decade career has been largely defined by his work across Scotland, Ireland, and continental Europe, speaks about golf design with reverence for its origins. Those formative years abroad—walking ancient links and studying the strategic nuance of early architects—fundamentally shaped his philosophy.

At Pandion, that philosophy comes to life in an 18-hole, par-71 layout stretching up to approximately 7,220 yards from the back tees. It’s a heathland-inspired course—strategic, understated, and built for firm, fast conditions. Indigenous grasses, native wetlands, and preserved specimen trees are woven into the design, reinforcing a sense of place rather than overpowering it.

The influence of Golden Age greats is unmistakable. Phillips cites the artistry of Tom Simpson, particularly in green complexes that subtly extend into surrounding landforms, allowing balls to feed, gather, or repel depending on angle and approach. The strategic sensibilities of Harry Colt—soft yet thoughtful green contours, intelligent routing, and emphasis on positioning over power—also echo throughout the property.

“Positioning will matter more than pure distance,” Phillips explains. Multiple lines of play invite decision-making. A longer hitter may challenge a bunker for a better angle; another player may opt for a safer route. The reward is often determined not by how far you hit it—but by where.

The Ground Game Returns

Central to Pandion’s identity is its embrace of firm-and-fast conditions. Tight mowing areas and expansive greens—larger than typical American targets—encourage creativity. Putters and bump-and-runs become viable options from well off the surface. The ground game isn’t a novelty here; it’s fundamental.

The greens themselves reflect that ethos. Their scale allows for diverse pin positions, meaning everyday member play can feel fair and inviting, while championship setups can utilize edges, corners, and interior transitions for added challenge.

Just as important as strategy is rhythm. Pandion was designed for walking. Tees and greens are intentionally close, transitions are short, and the routing flows naturally across the landscape. “Walking creates a rhythm,” Phillips says. “Conversations between friends. Stories told between shots.” That cadence is baked into every turn of the property.

The routing also supports everyday flexibility. Returning nines and internal loops allow members to play three, five, eight, or a quick afternoon circuit. Thirteen returns near the clubhouse; fourteen offers a convenient stopping point. It’s a thoughtful nod to how modern members actually use their club.

An Architectural Heart, Not a Showpiece

If the course defines Pandion’s soul, the clubhouse defines its spirit.

Kragh, who grew up immersed in Midwestern club life before earning his graduate architecture degree from the Illinois Institute of Technology, approaches private club design as both architect and lifelong golfer. For him, Pandion represents something rare: a true home club, not a resort or spectacle.

Matthew Kragh

The one-story clubhouse draws from Low-Country precedents and Old Florida sensibility, blending refined Southern character with materials and proportions suited to Southwest Florida’s climate. Metal roofing, vaulted gathering spaces, natural textures, and deep overhangs create a structure that feels established rather than newly built.

Notably, there are no interior hallways. Circulation unfolds along covered porches, connecting the golf shop, locker rooms, and dining spaces while maintaining constant visual and physical contact with the course. Turf stretches to the building. Cart traffic is discreet. The architecture reinforces that golf—not real estate—is the centerpiece.

Arrival is carefully choreographed. As members wind through the landscape, the clubhouse reveals itself gradually, anchoring the experience with a centrally positioned golf shop—an homage to traditional clubs where golf operations serve as the heart.

Seamless Collaboration

Phillips and Kragh worked in tandem from the earliest planning stages, ensuring sightlines, routing, and structure function as one unified composition. The putting green, first and tenth tees, and clubhouse porch are intentionally interconnected. From the first step onto the property to the final drink overlooking the finishing holes, the experience is fluid.

Standing on the first tee, members won’t be confronted by forced drama. Instead, the opening hole is welcoming—hazards built subtly into the terrain rather than elevated for intimidation. It’s an invitation to settle in, to focus, to begin.

On the porch afterward, the feeling shifts to ease. Expansive covered spaces encourage lingering. Members can watch play unfold, share stories, and move seamlessly from round to relaxation.

A Club Meant to Be Learned

What distinguishes Pandion may not reveal itself in a single round. Phillips emphasizes subtlety—the kind that unfolds over time. Strategic angles become clearer. Preferred approaches shift with conditions. Internal loops invite spontaneous evening play.

The property itself reinforces that intimacy. There are no surrounding high-rises, no visual intrusions. Despite its proximity to Southwest Florida’s growth corridors, the site feels calm, mature, and retreat-like—a rare quality in the region.

In the end, both architects share the same hope: that members finish a round wanting a few more holes—or at least eager to return tomorrow.

Pandion is not designed as a one-time destination. It’s built to be lived in, walked daily, and appreciated more deeply with every step.