Skip Gardner is not one to abide by conventional wisdom. That's one reason he built his own (14-hole) golf facility.

The blacktop road winding between the Nanticoke River and Seaford was once used exclusively by motorists going to or returning from the Woodland Ferry.

Residents of southwestern Delaware used the ferry for expediency, cutting what could be an hour journey between Seaford and nearby Bethel, a former shipbuilding center, into a 15-minute excursion and a 10- to 15-minute car ride. Tourists made the drive eager to ride on one of the nation's oldest active ferry systems, one having operated almost continuously since the early 1800s.

But in recent years, Woodland Ferry Road also has become a link between Seaford and a popular recreational outpost. On a 65-acre plot, where soybean and sweet corn once grew, is Woodland Golf Park, owned by prodigal son Skip Gardner, 39, who returned home to design, develop and operate the 2,567-yard, par-48 executive playground. To say that Woodland Golf Park is unique would be to say that a double eagle is rare.

From the moment ground was broken to the day Woodland Park opened, Gardner has assumed an oblique approach to everything from construction to the day-to-day operation. You sense Woodland is not a conventional golf venue the moment you walk through the golf shop's screen door.

On most days, that's where you'll find the slumbering Sundance, Gardner's golden retriever. On the wall facing the entrance, where you might expect to see a framed photograph of a world-famous course or player, hangs a black-and-white glossy of the immortal Three Stooges clad in golf attire.

Behind the counter is posted the course's 14-hole rate, the cost of playing eight par 3s and six par 4s ranging from 89 to 336 yards. Skip Gardner's labor of love is four holes shy of the conventional round, but he's not certain there's a need for more. "You see that land over there?" Gardner asks as he points toward a soybean field that sits adjacent to his course. "Now, that land is not for sale, per se, but I have first rights. If I bought it, I could possibly expand to 18 holes or build a driving range. I'm leaning toward the driving range because I don't know I can justify more holes in terms of cost. And besides, where is it written that a course has to have 18 holes? Sure, I know that it's a break from tradition, but I've been like that my whole life . . . shaking people up. Maybe I'll expand to 19 holes and have what we could call a ÔSuper Loop.' "

Don't interpret his apparent irreverence as a lack of respect for the game with which he has been associated since his childhood. Gardner was raised across the street from Seaford Country Club, a private venue on the edge of town, and by his teens was completely absorbed in the game.

He played and practiced enough to fashion a single-digit handicap. He worked in the club's golf and back shops and spent frequent hours with the grounds crew. Once he was graduated from Seaford High School, the four-year golf letter-winner chose course maintenance over course management, enrolling in the University of Delaware's agronomy program. Gardner graduated from UD in 1979 and less than a year later became the head superintendent at Newark Country Club, a private facility just a middle iron from the UD campus. Thirteen years and three club jobs later, Gardner returned home to begin his own operation.

"Skip is an extremely capable individual who could have been a big name in the industry if he chose to be," said Ed Richitelli, who lured Gardner from Newark Country Club to help Brantwood Country Club in Elkton, Md. "He's a difficult guy to get to change an opinion, but he's generally right."

Gardner found what he deemed to be an ideal site, wiped out his savings to make a $50,000 down payment on the land and, after recruiting several family members and friends to invest, began construction in the spring of 1993. Gardner has worked on a limited budget from the outset, but the man described by his father as a perfectionist has gone beyond the standards associated with a public par-3 or executive course. He simply could have mowed a bunch of circles, plugged holes in the ground and installed artificial turf mats for tees. Yet Woodland Park is anything but spartan. It has 14 large, club-quality bent greens complemented by verdant rye and bent fairways and level, neatly manicured tee boxes. The greens range from 4,800 to 6,000 square feet with a 6,200-square-foot putting green sprawling next to the golf shop.

Gardner installed an irrigation system, and in addition to having two large man-made ponds guarding five holes, he is increasing the challenge by adding bunkers and planting trees. The green fee is $10 weekdays, $12 weekends and holidays. Well-conditioned balls, fished from the pond, are $1 (scuffed and weathered balls sell two for $1). Soda is 50 cents a can.

"I'm frugal. Some might even call me a tightwad," Gardner said. "But I'm not a bandit. I want to give them a nice place to play at an affordable price. Everything here is a gift. We have requests for junior and senior rates, but no way. It's the same freight for everyone. If they can't afford our fees for what they get, then they'd better find a new hobby. This is a learning center, a place where a golfer can prepare for the next step up. "

Despite his profound pride in Woodland's conditions, Gardner's list of rules is short and reasonable. Golfers must wear a shirt. Pull carts are banned from the greens, but you'll experience no spikeless controversy at Woodland, where all footwear, or even bare feet, is acceptable. But atop Woodland's code of conduct is a demand for a reasonable pace of play, a commandment Gardner bases on both etiquette and economics.

"People come in and ask us if fivesomes are allowed," Gardner said. "We say, ÔSure, it doesn't matter if you play in a 10-some as long as you keep up the pace of play.' It's a bottom-line thing. The more people we push through in a day, the more money we make."

Gardner's approach to Woodland's daily operation is no more unique than the manner in which he brought his dream to fruition. Gardner designed the course with no help. "People ask me what kind of design it is and I tell them it's a Scotch design . . . a bottle of Scotch and some water. And that ain't too far from the truth."

The resourceful superintendent found bargains on used heavy equipment and with the help of a few high school kids dug two large ponds and used the dirt to mound the greens. After dark he would become the chief mechanic, frequently working into the wee hours to keep the ancient and overworked equipment operational.

Once the digging was complete, he hired a professional shaper from North Carolina to fashion the greens. Gardner and a good friend, Larry Jones, a club pro between jobs, laid the irrigation pipe and installed the electrical components from a used irrigation system purchased from Lakewood Country Club in suburban Washington, D.C.

"That was a seven-week job," Gardner said. "The company that sold me the pipe gave me a nice [irrigation] design. I rented a trencher and did the digging [of a line 24 inches deep] while Larry handled the pipe and wire." Gardner's father, Big Skip, handled much of the renovation of the vacated farmhouse, which at one time was scheduled to be used by the Seaford Fire Department for fire control exercises. Big Skip turned the dilapidated building into a golf shop and living quarters for his son, and gave the weathered exterior a facelift.

"I really don't have any idea of how much we saved by doing things the way we did because we never bid anything out," Gardner said. "I know that for what I'm making in salary right now from our company, it figures out to be about $10 per day. We still have some things we need to purchase to get some other jobs done, but it's like I say, ÔIf it's not here, it isn't in the budget.' "

Gardner's credo is to buy used. He bought his mowers from fellow superintendents who were upgrading to newer equipment, has two 1970-model electric carts for course surveillance and maintenance and has compiled a nice stock of used pull carts, flagsticks and sprinkler heads. Through yard sales he expanded his stock of rental clubs and acquired non-golf essentials.

What Gardner has accomplished is amazing. In less than five years, through hard work, ingenuity and a cast-iron will, he has established an affordable playground for young and old. But rather than pondering his achievement, Gardner's bent for perfection keeps him looking back at the mistakes he's made and ahead to the work remaining to make this the best little course this side of the Appalachians. "It provides a taste of golf, but we're not a success story yet," Gardner said. "That's why we call it Woodland Golf Park, rather than Woodland Golf Club or Woodland Country Club.

"But I'm working at it, and I figure if I stay with it we'll get there." If Gardner doesn't run out of steam and he can keep his well-used equipment in working order, Woodland Golf Park might become the top 14-hole course in the land . . . or perhaps the best 19-hole course. Somehow, it's difficult imagining Skip Gardner settling on 18 holes.

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Tom Tomashek writes about golf for the Wilmington (Del.) News-Journal.