May started out, . . . interestingly.
I had taken Jbee and DF to Lake Somerville for a Free Range Experience as they past through Texas (
https://thefreerangenaturist.org/2023/02/22/somerville/). This is a little paradise I have been enjoying clothesfree for decades now, but I am always interested in sharing my Free Range Naturist experiences.
A 'burner' friend has a birthday in June and was interested in an 'out of the way location' for his party. I suggested a deserted island, and he took the bait. We paid a visit in early April to scope out the beach and agreed to take a boat ride to the island in May to actually camp on the island. This would give us enough information to decide whether an overnight party on the island was doable.
The idea of using my sailboat to transport a bunch of burner hippies to the island along with all of their overnight necessities, was optimistic at best. But, who am I to cast doubt on an idea that was mine to begin with?
I had scouted out the legality and logistics of such an enterprise and received a luke warm response from the Corp that was in charge of the islands and parks. Asking if we could camp on the island, their response was, "Why would anyone want to? You know one of the islands is called Snake Island for a reason!" I took that as an implicit YES!
The closest boat ramp was reserved for paying campers only, so we would have to pay for a campsite to use the ramp. But, the next ramp over was a 24hr, public ramp, free to all who want to use it. I asked about leaving a truck/trailer overnight at the public ramp and was given an answer I had heard before. "Yes, but who would want to do that?"
So, on May 1st, I decided to put the pieces together. I would launch at the public ramp, travel to the island and scope out the camping options. We would test out those camping options later in the month, this was only a reconnaissance mission. My burner buddy, Angie, agreed to accompany me on this adventure.
We found the public ramp without any difficulty. It is set up for fishing boats, but that didn't stop me from pulling in like I owned the place. The various fishing boats came and went while I was rigging up the sailboat. They gave me many a sideward glance as they passed by, not quite knowing what to think about this kilt clad hippie rigging up a sailboat on their ramp, but everyone was cordial.
Fishing boats drive on/off their trailers, my boat takes more hands-on maneuvering and Angie was not experienced in the necessary operations, but she did provide welcome company. So I had to self launch the boat, drive it to the dock, walk back to remove the truck/trailer from the ramp, park appropriately and walk back to the dock. Nearby fishermen were obviously entertained, hanging around the area throughout the operation.
Once on the water and under sail, I doffed the kilt and proceeded in long tacks toward the island. Angie felt a bit more exposed in the open water with various boats in the distance, but soon got equally comfortable.
We beached on the leeward side of the island, very near the area where Jbee, DF and I frolicked last year. There were no rocks or logs in this area, but the wind was light, so I simply beached the boat in the shallow reeds. I could/should of pulled out the anchor, but I am not one to be intimidated by fate.
Angie was better prepared for this part of the journey, as every experienced burner has a sturdy pair of hiking boots at all times. Me? I had my trusty flip-flops. We both wore sunglasses and carried cold beverages as we explored the island.
Amazingly, there was nobody fishing the shores of the island. Much of the island is covered with nettle, brambles, poison ivy/oak, and other hazards to civility. But we did locate 2 clear meadows, the best of which was overlooking the main body of the lake, with a clear view to the dam and the town of Somerville on the distant shore.
After surveying the island, we headed back to the boat. Or back to where the boat was left. It had by now floated 1/2 way to the opposite shore. I hollered to Angie before jumping into the water to retrieve the boat.
The boat was probably 100 yards away at that point and I swam like there was a chance I could catch up with it. It didn't take long to realize that the boat would be resting on the distant shore before I would be able to catch it, so the nautical sprint became a marathon.
After the ~200 yard swim, I was safely on the boat, catching my breath and retrieving a cold beverage from the cooler. I glanced up to see poor Angie on the distant shore, hands firmly planted on her bare hips, with a look of 'what now?' on her face. Her clothes and other belongings, except for the boots and sunglasses, were with me, on the boat. So I decided it was time for some quick, manly action, fired up the kicker motor and headed back across the lake.
Not long after, we hoisted sails and headed back to the ramp. The return trip was fairly uneventful, with good winds, I was able to sail on a reach directly to the ramp, donning the kilt as we doused the sails. The day was nearing its end and the ramp was not nearly as populated at this point, but I kept the kilt on so I could focus on rigging down without worrying about more fishermen's sudden appearances.
I doffed the kilt again as the sun set as we headed back to the house.
I returned for the camping trip on May 20th and will complete that part of the story soon.
~Safebare