The nude beach that is….
My first experience, three years ago, with the nudist beach was interesting. Over the hill and down the trail we went only to be met with the startling conclusion: Girls and Boys, we’re not in Juneau anymore.
At the bottom of the hill there was a road block. It was all I could do not trip over the whale sized person lounging on the sand….like a welcome mat. Really? You couldn’t move over a few feet? Scuze me…pardon me…
Well you don’t see that in Alaska, unless it’s actually a beached whale.
Since that introduction, I’ve visited the beach every time we go to Hawaii. It’s one of the highlights to my vacation. Don’t ask me why. It’s simply a “must do” activity.
Anyhow, onwards and upwards…
Surveying the area, it’s glaringly apparent the majority of visitors grab a location closest to the entrance – it’s MOBBED. But further down there’s fewer people and lots of open beach space. Hike up the cooler and chairs, we’re hiking into flesh country. The Alaskan has found her beach spot.
The spot I chose is right in the front – you’re probably not surprised. It’s funny – the very back of the beach has a solid line of people from end to end. Must be the second choice location if you can’t get near the entrance. Couldn’t even muscle a beach towel in between those folks – they were stuccoed in like coral decorations on a seawall.
I’d rather have some fresh air and be able to stretch out on my towel than have pry myself in between two glistening oiled up strangers. Excuse me, could you hand me another beer? Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen put your sunglasses on, the Alaskans are hitting the beach – naked – and we’re a wonderful halibut white color. We lathered up, cracked a beer, settled in and began to soak up the Maui sunshine. Talk about glistening in the sunshine like diamonds. Even the seagulls were confused about our reflective quality.
Now it’s time to ponder, which way to look. In front of my spot were two men, the color of cooked bacon, playing Frisbee….you can only imagine what was dangling at my eye level.
Disclaimer: It’s not my fault God made me this height and certain things just happen to be at eye level when sitting in a beach chair, on the beach, in a nudist environment. Thank you.
It was all fun and games until Bacon Colored Man #1 lost control of his Frisbee serve and Bacon Colored Man #2 had to come over to me and apologize and pick it up at my feet. I’m sorry, did you say something? I was distracted.
I love to people watch. I’m as happy as a Magpie in a sparkling heap of trash when left alone to people watch. If this was an Olympic event, I’d enter. No hand / eye coordination necessary. Now I have a cooler of adult beverages, a comfortable place to sit, warm sand under my toes and sunshine…..what more could I ask for really?
Where are those Bacon Men?
Sorry, I had a flash back.
Back to the point at hand…people watching. What struck me as funny were the number of people who came to look at us sitting on the beach…..from their tour boats. Giant catamarans, holding 150 people would sail by – barely 1/4 mile off the beach. This beach is apparently listed in some of the tour narratives. Interesting. Had I known I was going to be apart of the touring outline, I would have at least worn my tiara. As it currently stands, I’m wearing my sunglasses and floppy beach hat. Similar, but nothing close to fabulous.
I can only imagine what the captain was saying:
“Everyone! Get your binoculars! There is a spectacular sight off our starboard side. You won’t want to miss taking a look at this. One of our popular beaches for homo sapiens! Quite the species….”
Each time I pondered an appropriate reaction:
Flip them off.
Jump up and moon them.
Shake my ta-tas.
Wave like the Queen.
Result: I stared back at them and toasted them with my bottle of beer.
My next observation were the groups of 4 (two couples) that would wander all the way down, not much further past us and wouldn’t take so much as their top off. Okay, so what’s the deal? I get it….they were giggly couples who wanted to say they went to the nude beach – without having to admit they actually took anything off.
Being nude myself, I found it a little odd to see them fully clothed in the surf. THEY were the odd ones that stuck out. Kind of like a fart in an elevator. Everyone else on the beach was either completely naked, top off or bottoms off.
I also tremendously enjoyed the older couple that walked back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. He was obviously comfortable with himself as there wasn’t a tan line to be found on his cinnamon raisin toast skin. She, on the other hand, I think might have been related to the Easter bunny.
Pink pleated tennis skirt. Pink sun visor with blonde puffy short hair coming out of the top like Old Faithful. Proud as a peacock prancing next to her man. Back and forth. It was like watching a tennis match they went past so often. She was engrossed in observing the crowd of sunbathers and he was praying they could go back and sit down so he can enjoy the gorgeous ocean view.
What a funny bunch of people. Of course, I didn’t know a soul except for my better half. And he was encouraging “get your raft and get out there.” We’re here to celebrate my 40th birthday so I better get out there and enjoy the day.
Okay, off I go with my most favorite hobby inducing item in Hawaii. A cheap pink raft. Down to the ocean I go. I could float away in the peacefulness it was so calm and enjoyable. Cool and clear water. Definitely not in Alaska any more.
Of course, when it was time to come back in so we could head back and get ready for dinner, I realized he was taking photos of me. Okay, maybe he should invest in a camera instead of using his phone for the pictures. Mental note honey, put a lock on that thing!