So, FYN is a group of tanned, naked, good-looking young people, but nobody appeared to be hooking up. Short of knocking on individual tents at night, this researcher had tried very hard to find the sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll of naturism. Alas, these were just nice people who did things like share spring mix with strangers. Maybe the nudists were right. Maybe people could just get along without clothes?
If people like White and Phillips — and their on-the-way baby boy, Malcolm — are the future of naturism, maybe, just maybe, it could work outside Sunsport's gates.
Haulover Beach , which I'd been encouraged to visit, seemed like the perfect place to test this hypothesis.
On a recent Sunday, I decided to join the several hundred sunbathers congregating on this clothing-optional stretch of sand in Miami-Dade County. A lot of the sunbathers were males, many by themselves, and a lot of them kept their clothes on. A few had cameras. A few more stared, blatantly.
Still, the topaz-toned Atlantic sparkled invitingly. So, off came the bathing suit. Then on came the onlookers, it seemed.
One individual, a pruney, over-tanned man, neared my beach towel. Good time to get into the water!
A couple was already in the ocean, maybe twice as far from the shore as me. They were naked and laughing. It appeared he was trying to mount her, but they were having trouble — every time they got close to each other, a wave came by and pushed them apart.
My neighbor from the sand stepped into the water several moments after me. I swam about 20 feet to the left. Then he walked about 20 feet to the left.
I paddled 15 feet forward. So did he.
I went right, then back; he also went right and back. He kept his hands hidden, below the water, while staring at me.
I swam to shore, hearing the couple's loud hee-haws and cracking waves fade behind me. A police officer happened to arrive just then, responding to a call about indecency, his radio blaring.
I put my bathing suit on.