Sailing the Gulf

We’re on our way west, out of Baton Rouge, this morning. We’re going sailing!
Realizing that a drive across Texas is halfway across the continental USA, we decide to take a break at the tourist info center after crossing the border.
We put on clothing in the parking lot and walk around the back to the gateway and into chilling air-conditioning.
The big room is loaded with tall rows of brochures and maps. We’ll have a long drive and we’re looking for fun stops along the way. This is like a library.
We try out the restrooms, before having a machine eat my two futile attempts at a plastic bottle of Coca-Cola. When I inquire at the big desk manned by two ladies, which appear to have spent quite a bit of idyll time together, I am met with an astonished, “way-a-oh.” Texans often need to enunciate all vowels in every word, but these two presented authenticity by actually adding extra vowels to “wow.”
Genuine and friendly, that’s how I like my Texans.

We find ourselves being lead down a new highway along the gulf coast.
Amazon is building a huge distribution complex along with other huge boxes of corporate commerce. It’s a nice highway, but all of it is nearly empty. They don’t seem to be using it. The parking lots are empty. I suppose that it is a story about corporate and government meld. It appears to be another wasteful fiasco that nets short term profit for somebody of influence with promises.
We eventually make our way to our friend’s sarong clad greetings. The place reminds me of Malibu before the big money. It has the air of an Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon beach house.
It is up on stilts. We gather at ground level, which is a converted parking area under the main building. After a few hugs like long lost friends, clothing is dropping off and coming to rest. It is casually slung over chairs, and whatever. I have a seat on the kilt that I wrapped around me to walk the driveway.
Our friend Safebare (his internet handle) is an old hand at free range naturism, stealth and generally being nude anyway, wherever possible. We met through several years ago. We met up with them in the flesh in Zipolite, just before covid in 2020. We have had some fun together, as kindred spirits.

He has all of the visual angles set and knows exactly where he can comport naked without being exposed to anyone’s other sensibilities. A carefully placed car, a post, a green tarp covering something, bushes and stairs, all function as a privacy fence. He knows when the neighbors are around, and their attitudes. So, nudity is working out here, on the open suburban patio, which is shaded by the house above.
Across a lawn of that thick green Florida style grass, is a dock with a sailboat in waiting. This is on a canal that leads out to Galveston Bay.
I had a twenty foot boat docked at Jack London Square for the San Francisco Bay, back in the nineteen seventies. Since then, Arizona has made my sailing knowledge rusty. I decided to bring along a sailing “how too” book on the trip to brush up. DF, who has never sailed, or been on many boats, has been learning sea language like,” starboard, stern, bow, port” and some basics during our trip, in anticipation.
I’m excited about this opportunity. There isn’t much sailing in Arizona and I used to love it so. As we sit in the afternoon breeze, Safebare offers to” take ‘er out, now.” No arm twisting required. He says that the conditions are excellent today, right now. It’s like someone yelled, “surf’s up!” I’ve been ready for years.
DF walks out to the dock in merely Bikini bottoms, we in kilts. One thing got established by Safebare early, “Texas is Topfree.”  He explains that there are no laws against, except maybe something trumped up and erroneous. DF is wholly on board to try it out. Without her even saying so, I can see that she is relaxed in a lack of worry and feeling liberated.
We get acquainted with the boat. We note how slippery it is with bare feet. We get our sea legs acquainted with the less stable roll.
Safebare takes the rudder and starts the motor. He immediately shows his familiarity with the boat and canal. He masterfully maneuvers us away on the calm water.
Everything seems better naked and boating is certainly better. Just to get out on the sea on sail is an exciting, sensual freedom.  The added nudity augments the sense of nature and liberation. We are in the cockpit, so our lower bodies are concealed for the most part. The boat sits low, but who’s actually looking?
We motor through the fishing boats, then into the larg …

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