PLAYING WITH BIG WAVES AND THE DANGERS INVOLVED

Dear nudist friends,
Staying idle for a full day at the nude beach when everything is still, is usually the best, but what about when it is stormy? My Dad and his wife, reminded of the dangers of swimming during bad weather. This fatherly lecture came during a long distance telephone conversation, after having experienced an incident at the San Francisco clothing optional beach, when, from France, they told me that a short while before my own incident they had watched someone drowning at Cap d 'Agde. For their own part, the high wind had cleared the sky, the sea was blue but treacherous because it was appearing harmlessly 'just' agitated. An unfortunate swimmer got taken away by the current while venturing a little too far from the sea shore. His girl-friend who had prudently stayed on the beach, was running around in order to beg for some help. The sea finally spit-out the poor nudist body after an hour, and everyone on the beach was shocked at the tragedy.

My personal incident was different, for no one was sucked by a current, but it was by precisely avoiding been taken away, and by staying on the flat ground, that the 'incident' occur. On that Sunday morning, the El Nino had kept the whole City under the rain for a whole week. I still, in spite of the bad weather, had to have my fix of nude-beach, so I braved the rain. I took the municipal trolley-bus, which is an easy direct ride from the Financial District to the line's terminal deposing you at a 5 minutes walk to Baker Beach. The trolley-bus had only the driver and myself as the lone passenger, which indicated that probably, I was going to have the entire beach for myself.
Well, indeed I did have the beach all for myself! or more exactly of what was left of the beach. Normally, Baker Beach is wide enough to host several thousands nudists or textiles during a hot Sunday, but on this particular day, the beach was entirely submerged by a brownish color mass of agitated waters. The sky was low and it was persistently drizzling. The entire length of the beach was inaccessible on foot, so in order to reach the 'nude section', by the end toward the Golden Gate, I had to walk the paved road towards Presidio, and then went down stairs at the southern limit of the beach. The Ocean was so furious, that the swells rammed against the last steps of the stair. This is where I undressed, at making sure to leave all my clothed and shoes into a plastic bag, in order to keep everything as dry as possible. The water was expectedly cold for an early Winter day, but the El Nino warmth had brought the water to a sustainable temperature. I was not about to go swimming anyway. I intended to just play with the huge waves.
This is the technique that I quickly learned when a wave was getting so big that it lifted me off the ground. First, I stayed at the surface as long as I could, like a cork floating, until landing back on the sand floor with my both feet apart for increased stability against the strong currents and, then second, if the wave rolled into a sudden surf, then I let go with my body while seriously protecting my head and my neck with my both arms, in order to stay conscient, and leaving the rest of my body, completely limp in order to offer the least resistance to the fury of the tons of water slamming the sand. I played this way at floating, or standing back-up while making sure to never allow been taken away by the current. No real danger, as long as I always run as close as possible from the lips of the dry land starting a cliff, as soon as having my feet on the ground. I learned, through the hour spend, of a regular rythme between a succession of 'lifting waves' and occasional 'tourbillion waves'. I had played with the big waves in that semi-dangerous game until about noon time, it is when the rain had stopped, after the sky allowed to see a very pale sun at the zenith above. Two women who were bundled-up in parkas came down stairs. They stopped at where I had left my clothed. As the admitted exhibitionist that I am, I was delighted to have 'spectators' to whom I could give a show. You might smile at my innocent fantasies of true nudist, but for me, I was offering those two women the show of a 'dual combat' between my nude and fragile body and the 'beast' of the Ocean. I imagined been a "gladiator" defying the monstrous waves. Did I inspire those two strangers to join me? May be I did, and, if it is the case, then I take the blame for what happened next. One of the women undressed. She was a graceful red head girl; well proportioned, little breast, freckles all over, long healthy & strong hair. I noticed goose bumps while she approached. She looked timidly down while we were face to face at standing on the hard wet sand while the last wave was retreating. I admit to have felt for her. May be it was the dangerous situation during the brief respite before the next furious assault of the next waves, but I suddenly 'loved' her as if I we had bonded instantly as she had joined me during this encounter without a word.
Due to the noise of the tempest and the high wind, I shouted to her the instructions of the 'what to do' when lifted by a big wave, insisting that she always protected her head and neck, which instruction she received and acknowledged with a trusting nod. Then the waves arrived. We played with the big waves, while the second woman, who had kept her parka, had sat on the stair at watching us. We were, in my mind, a handsome couple to be looked with haw at standing in the middle of a ring, both nude & vulnerable in a dangerous combat against the fury of the successive charges of the Ocean. It is what seemed to us, and we instinctively teamed-up at giving the best possible prize-fight to the lone spectator consisting of that other woman in a parka. This game became exhilarating -a real vigorous contact-sport. I confess that in that thrill, we both dangerously overdid it, until nature had the last word and put an end to our provocations against the forces of the Ocean.
Once, at last an enormous wave, much bigger than before lifted us both. It became a tourbillion, which caused a body slam on the sand. After the water had retracted, I remain still a few more seconds on the hard wet sand due to the violence of the impact. The girl by my side was not moving. She had been knocked out for an instant. Her long red hair were smeared with sand of the side she was laying inert. She stood up, a little haggard, while I helped here rejoin her companion, the other woman. The incident could have turned tragic had she been alone, because the next waves would have dragged her inert body off shore.
It is shortly after this 'incident' that my Dad from France told me of the tragedy of a drowning at Cap d'Agde.

I felt typing this narrative on the forum of True Nudists. This story which I lived a few years ago may be a suggested subject of conversation to whoever has something to say about some unexpected DANGERS caused by nature during situations when nudity may make one feel invincible, and foolhardily forgetful of one's own frailty.

END

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