Bequia was full of weird and wonderful characters and I had fun times with so many of them! One of my favorites was a Dutch fellow named Kees, an eccentric man with a heart of gold. Kees was very thin, with leathery skin baked by years in the sun. He lived on his little trimaran, which for those who don’t know is a three-hulled sailboat. She was named The Wizard of Id, affectionately referred to as De Wiz.
Kees was a bit of a chick magnet. He wasn’t exceptionally good looking but he appealed to women. He was kind, totally non-threatening, and his love of life made him a pleasure to be with.
One beautiful day Kees announced that he was taking the Wiz for a day sail and anyone wanting to join him was welcome. I can’t recall today how many were on board but I DO remember that it was an entirely female crew! Some of the women were from other boats, some from ashore, and we had all brought offerings of food and drink to share. Kees was used to sailing alone and needed no help with the anchor or sails, all we had to do was relax and enjoy.
Except … there was a condition. Once he had raised the anchor and sails Kees declared that clothes are unhealthy. He himself was wearing his usual on-board attire of a simple thong, something I was having to wrap my brain around and avert my eyes from! I had never thought of my up-bringing as being particularly sheltered but was coming to learn that I was actually pretty square and a bit of a prude.
Kees was serious. He believed that clothing keeps our skin from breathing and that at sea we should be naked. Several of the ladies were already topless, some pretty much naked. They were also passing joints back and forth, something I wasn’t going to touch with a ten-foot pole after my first experience with Bequia’s strong weed! The few ladies still wearing bathing suit tops took them off and there I sat, little miss school-teacher, not allowing my poor skin to breathe.
By now we had sailed out of the harbor. Taking a deep breath, I reached behind and pulled the sting on my bikini top. I was so self-conscious and could feel my face burning with embarrassment. This was SO not me!
As I bared my breasts to the sea breeze I heard screams of laughter and voices shouting, “Look Miss Armstrong! Oh GAWD, look Miss Armstrong!” To my intense mortification the Friendship Rose ferry was passing close to the Wiz and was filled to the brim with Bequians returning from the Mainland. And there was Bequia’s newest teacher in all her glory, sailing with a bunch of naked women and a man no longer wearing a thong.