Advisory Note: This post is Rated PG-13
The Count of Cow Wreck Bay: A Brief Introduction to Nudity
A Guest Post By: Alexandre Smartas (Smar-tah)
There are no nude beaches in the BVI. Anegada is no exception. So you can imagine one couple’s surprise when they rounded a corner to see Tony lying on the beach, probably catching a few rays. Tony did have his swim trunks. Strangely, though, they were being used as a pillow. There was no other clothing in sight.
Now, like any good story, I am going to back up to the beginning. I, your narrator, am writing this tale from the third person omniscient point of view. This, as you may know, means that I am not part of the story; instead, I am an all-knowing narrator. I wish I didn’t know all that this epic entails, but alas, I do.
Morning broke on Anegada with the promise of sunshine, swimming, and reading by the ocean. Tony and his wife, Lindy, awoke to the prospect of adventure. They had no idea.
Let’s pick up their story after an uneventful breakfast. They took the rental car, a Jeep Wrangler, out to explore the island. They stopped at a couple of recommended beaches, but were disappointed with the rough water and wind-blown sand. They decided to try to reach the other side of the island.
Since I am the omniscient one here, I obviously should have been consulted. I would have explained to them that Jeep Wranglers have very small gas tanks. I also would have advised against travelling through what locals call “The Bush.”
The Bush exists as an oasis for those who despise all things beautiful. It consists of a two-rut road cut from the desert-like undergrowth. Aside from the occasional goat or cow, life is scarce. Not a great place to discover that the vehicle is almost out of fuel, but I digress.
Our wayward travelers were making their way happily (at first) toward the other side of the island and more beaches. A brief (hour long) journey through The Bush seemed like an exciting adventure. It quickly turned into a nightmare. Road after unmarked road passed them by, and soon the grass and shrubs growing between the road’s ruts were dragging ominously beneath the vehicle.
By this stage in the story, some of you, probably the teenage boys in the group, are wondering where the nudity comes in. I implied that there will be nudity through the use of a subtitle. Well, all in good time.
After an hour of harrowing driving, and some skillful maneuvering on Tony’s part, the beleaguered couple found an old, rarely used beach access road. While it was not the beach for which they were searching, it was a beach, and they needed some much deserved time out of the Jeep. They approached the beach from the North.
Again, as your omniscient host, I would have strongly advised against this particular road. Teenage boys, drum roll please.
They topped the hill and walked on to the beach, and there, right in front of their eyes, was the tannest rear end you could ever imagine. It was attached to a man with a fishing pole. No clothing adorned his leathery body. Ouch. Not what you had in mind when you started this story. Well I can tell you that this was not what Tony and Lindy had in mind when they saw a beach.
Since this is my story, and this happens to be my least favourite (British spelling) part, I am going to move the story along. Our heroic couple quickly exited the premises and, after a good laugh, was on their way once again.
I won’t make you endure the agony of nearly running out of fuel in the harshest environment Anegada could provide. Instead, I will get to the happy part of the story.
Tony and Lindy finally found (entirely by accident) a perfect beach. It was completely abandoned, and the water was calm enough to swim. It was quickly decided that this beach would be the place to, um, how you say, skinny dip. It was, for our protagonists, an invigorating experience. Words cannot describe the freedom associated with, well, pure freedom.
This is the part of the story in which one of the characters makes a bad decision. It happens in most stories, because all the best characters have some flaw. Tony’s flaw is his recklessness and his ability to underthink decisions. Be that as it may, Lindy exited the water fully clothed in her swimsuit. Tony, on the other hand, made a decision that will haunt two unsuspecting characters for a long time. He decided to tan his nether regions. That’s right, he chose to read his book, on the beach, au natural.
At this point, I would like to point out that he did use sunscreen.
Let’s go around the point to a small beach bar/restaurant in the next bay over. An unnamed (for their protection) couple had just finished a relaxing lunch on the beach, and they had to choose which way to walk.
Isn’t it amazing how seemingly insignificant choices can affect history?
They walked left. They should have walked right.
Hand in hand, they made the romantic journey over a flawless beach. As they rounded a point, no doubt hoping to find another empty beach, they saw something, well, astonishing. They saw Tony. For the second time, they made a poor decision. They chose to continue walking in the same direction. They could have turned around, and this narrative may never have been written. Life is full of little nuances like this. They kept walking.
Back to Tony and Lindy now. Completely unaware of the approaching couple, Tony was sprawled out on the sand enjoying a book. Lindy was returning from the car, where she had been sipping some water.
Being the good wife that she is and having noticed the approaching couple, Lindy screamed to Tony that there were people coming. She shouldn’t have screamed it. Tony, who naturally thinks quickly on his feet, turned rapidly while planning his escape. He turned away from the couple. They won’t soon forget that image. This, folks, was not the tan behind that we previously experienced. This was pure, raw whiteness.
Tony, meanwhile, realized the futility of flight. Nonchalantly, as though he were a nudist or a European, he returned to his book. Perhaps a move this bold should be applauded. After all, lying there exposed in such a way took, well, balls.
This is where the story should end. It doesn’t.
Seemingly unperturbed and obviously no more intelligent from the experience, Tony continued on with his book. The unlucky couple had made their exit, and the beach belonged again to our hero. That’s right, our still naked (but sun screened) hero.
The next group to come around the corner was luckier. They were spotted from further away, and Tony was able to do a graceful flying squirrel into the water before they were exposed to his exhibit. This turned out to be fortuitous for all parties involved, as this group consisted of several senior citizens staying at the same resort as Tony and Lindy.
And this is how Tony became the Count of Cow Wreck Bay.
Like Aesop and Mother Goose, I can tell you that there is a lesson to be learned, and it goes as follows:
Don’t leave your jewels out for others to see. It never turns out well for the Count.