Eric Stojkovich stares toward the green at hole No. 11, straight into the morning sun gleaming over the sparkling Pacific Ocean.

John Daly stands about 5 feet from him, and his shot from the tee is straight and true. So the orange paddle Stojkovich holds above his head in his right hand descends the same way, straight down, slowly and steadily.

Especially with clouds whitening the bright sky, I don’t know how he can see the ball.

"Prescription sunglasses," Stojkovich replies.

At the green, another volunteer marshal at the Sony Open in Hawaii sees the signal and notes that the shot is not likely headed toward trouble.

The sequence repeats itself and the group heads to the green. Stojkovich smiles, sits down and waits for the next threesome.

As his "intern," I use the simple hand signals I learned at orientation to try to keep the folks milling around behind the tee box from making too much noise.

The volunteer job of gallery-control marshal is not without challenges. But at some tournaments you have to pay for the shirt and cap and opportunity. Here the uniform is free and you are compensated with lunch, a volunteers party and tournament when it’s all done — and a good feeling.

"It’s a long day, especially Thursday and Friday," says Stojkovich, a 30-year Hawaii resident and once-a-week golfer who has marshaled here the past four years. "But it’s a good way to get out of the house and enjoy Hawaii and watch very good golfers up close. And we get a nice share for the (Kamehameha Lions Club) Foundation."

STOJKOVICH is among a 30- to 35-member contingent of volunteers from the Lions Club, with its scholarship fund being among the scores of local charities benefiting from the tournament via the Friends of Hawaii Charities. The total number of volunteers who make the tournament go is around 1,700.

"We can always use more," say Herb Ah Yo, one of the leaders of the gallery-control marshals. "Since this is volunteering we lose a lot because of job commitments, or other things like travel problems."

The marshals were short early in the week because some regular volunteers from the mainland were stranded due to bad weather. I don’t know if I helped fill the void, but I accomplished my goals in 11/2 days of volunteering as a marshal: I got some hands-on experience and I didn’t get hit by a golf ball — the second one barely.

Anyone can get plunked, especially on Pro-Am day, when stray shots ping-pong the layout randomly and frequently. Mark Carpenter of Hawaii News Now nearly took one on the knee.

Even a veteran leader of the marshals, Bob Cox, got nicked on the wrist early Wednesday. "Especially when it’s dark and we can’t see, everyone’s vulnerable," Cox said.

MY NEAR-BRUSH with a rapidly moving dimpled projectile was due to a rookie error. While stationed at the 18th green, I chatted with a friend who had just finished caddying a round. The mistake was doing this with my back to the green while the next group was shooting onto it … or, in this case, beyond it. As my teammates, Moe and Lorraine Larson, yelled "fore," the ball whizzed by my ear and down toward the scorer’s trailer, where it nestled in the grass. The shot of the day followed when the amateur whacked the ball onto the green through the exit between the bleachers.

The incident was a good reminder to remain focused, and keep an eye on anyone swinging a club. After all, with the purple shirt and visor comes responsibility to try to keep spectators and everyone else on the course safe from errant shots.

Another is to "help assure fair play and maintenance of the time schedule." The most common way marshals do this is by helping players find their balls. Sometimes it’s as simple as being close enough to see one in the rough and marking it with a little white flag called a "rain bird," so the player and his caddie can see it.

Sometimes it’s impossible.

Jim Bryan has worked the 10th fairway for 10 years, and does a great job of it. But he once drew the ire of Vijay Singh (not a hard thing to do) when Singh’s tee shot went into a tree and didn’t come out. Bryan didn’t know which tree, and since no one could see the ball to identify it, Singh was penalized a stroke.

"He really laid into me. All I could do was say, ‘Sorry, sir, I don’t know where your ball went,’ " Bryan said. "You feel bad because you feel a responsibility to the player, but it’s impossible to see everything."

MARSHALS ARE also expected to act as ushers, answering questions for spectators, or directing them to where they can get an answer.

Rules regarding what can be brought onto and used on the course that sometimes change by the day (such as cellphones) are enforced by marshals, but gently.

The job does not include security, but, as Bryan says, gallery control often includes pleasantly suggesting spectators abide by rules and etiquette.

"Smile until it hurts," he says. "There are the crazy fans who follow someone and try to pick up their ball so they can see what they play.

"Then there are people who have too much to drink and decide to take a nap here under a tree between the fairways. They don’t realize how dangerous it is."

But, as it is with golf, being a marshal is mostly about a shared appreciation for the game and the event.

"For people who are avid golfers, this is the perfect way to observe," says Daryl Matsuo, a team leader who coached me up on Wednesday, giving me practice and a 180-degree perspective as I helped him control a cluster of eager Japanese media.

Liz Taga doesn’t golf, but has worked the 9th tee as a marshal several years.

"And if you don’t want to be a marshal, there are lots of other ways you can volunteer. There’s something for everyone."

With 10 years as a marshal completed here, Bryan now qualifies to do so as a guest at any tournament — including the Masters, which he plans to do in 2015. But that’s not the main reason he keeps volunteering for this job, in which you must be invisible yet accessible, responsible but with little authority.

"At the end of the week you’re tired, your feet are sore and you’re sunburned," he says. "But when I’m done I feel real good about it. I know how much the Friends of Hawaii helps charities. If it means a scholarship for a kid it’s all worth it. People say they don’t have time — this is once a year, three days. Every nickel we help them save (on operations) is a nickel that goes to charity."

As for me, I’d be happy to do it again … especially wearing a helmet.

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Reach Dave Reardon at dreardon@staradvertiser.com or 529-4783. Read his blog at staradvertiser.com/quickreads.