DISCLAIMER: The following account narrates the actions of a fallen man. I am highly principled in nature and you may be tempted to judge me for my deeds accounted herein and, in my loftier moments, I would no doubt agree with you. Yet if you do choose this course know that your actions must match your judgment for I deem hypocrisy to be the greatest of evils. Now you have been warned, join with me as I recount a real event, the memory of which never fails to astonish me.
It was a beautiful winter's day. My first experience of the Far North coast of Queensland was a succession of warm and brilliant mornings with just a hint of cool breeze tempering the heat of the sun. It was an island - Hinchinbrook I believe – where the resort is dwarfed by great stretches of forest and breathtaking beaches.
It was one such morning when the wildlife arose early and woke me from a deep sleep with a start. No longer able to sleep, I let the family remain and slipped quietly into my runners and shorts. The rainforest seemed to be calling me as I ran the hills leading to the secluded west of the island. As the canopy opened above and let the early morning light stream through, the warmth on my bare chest was exhilarating. I felt sensational and I ran with a new strength and vigour – but the humidity was taking its toll after 3o minutes or so and I looked for a path down to the beach, never far away.
I surfed a steep dune down to a remote and isolated beach, no more than 100 metres long. I started to reason with myself. I have no swimming costume with a pounding, glistening surf in front of me. I have just run through the forest for 30 minutes and passed no-one. So I ran to the far headland and looked to see a vast coastline with no indication of human existence whatsoever. For some of you this is a no-brainer. Who cares?
You need to know that I am quite a conservative guy. It takes a great deal of pluck to drop the shorts and go au naturale. But it wouldn't be much of a story if I hadn't, would it?
I can count the number of times I have skinny-dipped on one hand. After a few moments hesitation I reassured myself that the only audience I might have would be a couple of kangaroos and a croc, a not unknown inhabitant at Hinchinbrook.
So off went the runners and down with the strides, I am sprinting into the surf like an 8-year old. It was brilliant, just cool enough to exhilarate rather than chill. My warm, alive body hit the cool surf and I cavorted like an idiot for minutes until I found a quiet secluded rock pool and floated in the gentler surf. Just as I entered the world, there I was in the glory of my simplicity. A man at one with the elements, rising and falling with the ebbing tide.
After a while I started to think that it was a pity I could not have a companion to enjoy the freedom and exhilaration with. It was only moments later that I became aware of some movement on the shore. I looked around and could see a figure drawing near. By the hair streaming from beneath her hat I deduced that this was a woman. Or a girl. As she drew near I realised that it was a female in her mid to late 20s, that space in which she is unambiguously woman, the girl is fading and the far more complex and unimaginably mysterious maternal rumour appears.
I panicked. What to do? She must have come from inland rather than by the coast. I wasn't aware there was access across the island. As she crosses the beach, she sees my clothes lying neatly piled on the sand and she looks around. She stops and surveys the ocean – she perceives that invitation that had so seduced me earlier and heeds the call. She removes her sunglasses, hat and t-shirt to reveal a simple red-and-white bikini – not a conspicuous attention grabber, just an effortless sensuality that would have stirred me had I not been so full of dread.
She stepped, long-legged and agile, into the shallows and tested the water. Slowly she inched her way, raising her arms and jumping over the small breakers, her hair bobbing and being taken by the wind. Up until this moment I had not seen her face clearly but now I could see that her features were delicate and flawless. I tried to avoid eye contact and it seemed that she had not seen me, although I knew that she could not have ignored my presence.
By this stage, I had floated into a deeper area in the hope that my nakedness would not be exposed. You need to understand my concern as a man of discretion, whether you be such or not. I was petrified of being caught in flagrante delicto. There would have been a mere 5% excitement and a great deal more embarrassment, especially as I perceived there would have been a decade separating us in age!
Eventually she was close enough, despite my aversion, that it would have been absurd to ignore each other's presence. I waved meekly when she looked over and she called out "Hi". I'm naked and a beautiful woman is saying "Hi"! I instinctively cover my submerged privates although she is still too distant to see anything.
I try to brave it out and shout "Hello, it's a beautiful morning". Humans love the obvious.
