TIM BELFORD

Naked came the strangers

I came across an article the other day about Wreck Beach.

Talk about a flash back.

Wreck Beach , for those of you who have never sampled the glories of Canada's Left Coast, is located in Vancouver, not far from the University of British Columbia.

It's famous for one thing. It's probably Canada's oldest nude beach.

It seems everyone is in a bit of a dither lately because the lords of UBC have decided to build a bunch of new residences, the upper floors of which will overlook the uninhibited sunning themselves far below.

The reason the article caught my eye was that thirty-three years ago I spent some time on that very beach.

No, I'm not a closet nudist, or as they are called in Quebec, a naturist.

Even thirty years ago when the decaying ruins were in considerably better shape, I was not one to loll around publicly in the buff.

What happened was this…

A couple of friends and I found ourselves on this deserted stretch of waterfront after a night of excess.

We were on a three-day pass from CFB Chilliwack, the Canadian Forces officers boot camp.

And like all young military types who have been sequestered for a couple of months we had been badly over-served in several of Vancouver's finer night spots the previous evening.

So, opting for sunshine and a nap instead of the proverbial hair of the dog, we stripped down to our shorts, spread our towels and in blissful ignorance drifted off.

Some time later I was awakened by a loud psst sound. It emanated from the companion nearest me.

When I didn't respond immediately the psst sound came again, this time louder and more urgently.

Apparently my fellow basker had opened his eyes and there, passing before him, were two young ladies wearing only what God in his wisdom had given them.

Thinking perhaps he was dreaming, he decided to wake me for confirmation.

Unfortunately, when I opened my eyes the young women in question had passed by and had been replaced by a 60-ish gentleman wearing only a straw sun hat and a smile.

Needless to say, my reaction was somewhat different than that of my friend, a little closer to nightmare than dream.

I propped myself up on one elbow and took a second look.

Whereas we had lain down on a deserted rocky shoreline we now awoke in the middle of a full-fledged naked festival.

Bodies of all shapes, sizes and ages were laying, walking and sitting all around us with nothing more than the occasional hat or pair of sun glasses by way of apparel.

Have you ever had that dream where you're the only naked person in a crowded room?

Well, take it from me, it's nowhere nearly as embarrassing as being the only one with clothes on in the midst of the uninhibited -- an unwitting peeping tom.

Well we had two choices. Strip down or get out.

Now, before you run screaming from the room or desperately try to find your mental happy place to avoid the inevitable image, trust me. We fled.

Clutching our military issue green boxers around our waists we executed a perfect retreat in good if embarrassed order.

Still, looking back at the sea of smiling faces and whatever else caught our gaze, I can't help but feel sorry that once again human kind may be driven from a rocky Garden of Eden.