Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 01

"Huh! Well at least I wouldn't have to join in with all that!"

"Actually, you sort of would have to join in with all that," I said cagily, knowing that a critical point in the discussion had been reached. Mess this up and the whole thing would be off. "The place in question is called Blackwell Island, and it's not clothing-optional - it's apparently illegal for adults to wear clothes there. Nudity is mandatory, from the moment you set foot on the island to the moment you leave."

My words just seemed to hang in the air, and the silence that followed them was quite literally deafening. I looked carefully at Patrick, trying my best to read his body language and gauge his opinion.

"You mean... we'd both have to... like... strip naked and... like... stay naked?" he eventually said in complete dubiety, as though he hadn't heard me correctly.

"From the moment we arrive to the moment we leave," I confirmed.

"Naked? For a whole feckin' year?" he went on.

"For a whole year," I confirmed again. "Maybe longer if Mags and Carole, and more importantly the readers, like my articles enough."

Patrick just sat and stared at me in utter confusion.

"Look, this is an opportunity of a lifetime!" I enthused, trying my best to get him on board. "A chance to spend a whole year, possibly several years, living in a tropical paradise with swaying palm trees, gorgeous beaches and lush vegetation. Plus, we'd be getting paid to live there! And the only real price to pay is that we'd have to live like the natives - in the nude."

"How do you feel about that?" he asked me, a sense of rationality returning to his voice.

"Well, I'll be honest with you, the thought of going around naked scares the bejesus out of me," I replied truthfully. "But I'll admit to being curious about it at the same time. It'd be a massive step into the unknown, but really, would it be that bad? I mean if everyone there is naked then surely it'd be like no big deal."

"For you, maybe!" Patrick huffed.

"Well, we have a couple of weeks to think it over," I responded as I dunked a piece of crusty bread into my mug of Patrick's homemade soup. "While I was on the train back from London I had an idea."

"Oh yeah, what sort of idea?" Patrick enquired sceptically in reply.

"Well was thinking that maybe we could give it a sort of trial run," I responded. "There's this place in Dorset near the New Forest - a naturist health spa. I looked up a review online while I was on the train and one of the reviewers called it an ideal place to give naturism a try in a totally safe and secluded environment. I think we ought to at least go and give it a try."

Patrick looked at me, clearly still not convinced.

"Look, if you agree to come and give it a try, and you really, really absolutely hate it, then I'll just tell Mags and Carole at the magazine to offer the job to someone else, okay? But I think we'd be kicking ourselves if we turned down an opportunity like this. I mean, do you want us to be living in rented accommodation forever? Don't you want more from life than just working in a pub and being the devoted husband to a talented albeit struggling freelance journalist? Come on, it'd be an adventure!"

Again, Patrick looked back at me, his face a total blank.

"You promise to tell them to shove it if I don't want to go?" he asked me eventually.

"I promise," I responded right away without hesitation. "I love you, Patrick - you're my soulmate. And I go wherever you go, and if you really don't want to come with me to Blackwell Island, then yes, I'll tell Mags and Carole to shove it and find someone else willing to do it."

Once again, Patrick responded with silence.

"So, will you do it? Will you at least come to this spa with me so that we can have a trial run of going naturist?" I prompted him.

Patrick took a deep breath and exhaled a long sigh.

"Okay," he said eventually.

Well, those two syllables ultimately led us to what became our greatest adventure as a couple, and one which changed our lives beyond all recognition.

A Trial Run

"I can't believe I allowed myself to let you talk me into this," Patrick muttered as I drove us through the New Forest along the A31 towards Ringwood.

"What is it you're afraid of?" I asked him. "You can take it from me that you definitely don't have anything to be ashamed of."

"I think you know perfectly well enough what I'm afraid of," he said sternly as he looked across at me. "You know, that whole... sort of..."

"The whole "what if I get an erection?" problem, am I right?" I ventured.

The way my husband's cheeks suddenly coloured up was all the response I needed to confirm my suspicions.

"Look, the more you worry about it, the more likely it is to happen," I said to allay his fears.

"That's easy for you to say," he countered huffily. "Women don't get erections!"

"This isn't exactly easy for me, either," I responded to him. "I've never done anything like this before, same as you. The last time I let anyone other than you see me naked was when I was in the showers at school after netball practice. And take it from me I'm every bit as anxious about going nude as you are! But if we're to take up the golden opportunity for me to get paid to live in paradise with you for a year, then using today as a trial run is the best way to see how we'd get on over there."

"Well, I said I'd go along with it, but I still can't help but be nervous," Patrick said, his voice clearly exhibiting a little anxious quavering.

"Don't be," I said to him, reaching across to take his hand in mine. "We're in this together, okay? You and me. And if you definitely don't like it I'll call Mags and Carole to tell them I'll have to decline their offer."

"Even if it means having to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime?" Patrick replied. "I don't want to be responsible for destroying your dream of becoming a columnist."

"Listen, yer daft feckin' eejit!" I responded, throwing in one of his colourful Irish colloquialisms. "The only thing that matters to me is for you and I to be together. And whether that's living on an idyllic island paradise or in a squalid bedsit above a Chinese takeaway makes no difference to me - you're my soulmate, and where you go, I go."

Just after passing the town of Ringwood our satnav directed us off the A31 at the Ashley Heath roundabout and took us southwards along the A338 towards Bournemouth. Our appointment with our first foray into naturism was getting closer by the minute and with every passing mile.

The last few miles of the journey were spent in an uneasy silence as we both processed our thoughts of what we were about to experience together that afternoon. Occasionally I would look across to Patrick and smile at him, and he would return it to me, but no matter how much he tried he couldn't quite disguise his unease.

As the satnav's tinny electronic voice guided us towards our destination it felt like we were approaching a moment of destiny. The Apsley Dell Health Spa, located in the leafy outskirts of Bournemouth, was housed in a grand Victorian villa that had been extended and converted into a hotel in the 1930's, and then converted into its current use in the late 1980's. The reviews of the place I'd read online raved about how tranquil and pleasant it was inside.

"After a while you totally forget you're naked," read one online reviewer's enthusiastic comment. I felt as though my heart was in my mouth as we turned into the driveway that led to the grand old Victorian pile surrounded by pine trees.

"You ready?" I asked my husband as we paused inside the car after parking up outside the main reception.

"As I ever will be, I guess," he responded, giving me a nervous smile.

As soon as we were out of the car I took his hand in mine and led him up the stone steps that led up into the reception area.

"It'll be fine, I promise you," I assured him as best I could as we entered the building.

As soon as we saw the young woman at the reception desk we both knew there was no backing out of it.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Apsley Dell Health Spa. Have you visited us before?" the young woman greeted us cordially.

"No," I replied for us both. "First time here. Well, first time doing anything like this actually!"

"Ah, you are aware that this is a naturist health spa, right?" the young woman asked us.

"Yes, we're aware of that," I responded.

"Okay, that's fine - we always check to make sure first time visitors know what to expect," the receptionist smiled. "Is it just the two of you today?"

"Yes, just me and my hubby here."

"Okay, and would you be wishing to book a room or do you just want to pay for day admission?"

"Oh, just for day admission please," I replied.

"Okay, no problem," the receptionist said as she tapped at her keyboard. "And how about a massage today? I can fit you both in if you wish."

I looked at Patrick who stood there looking clearly nervous.

"What do you think, hun?" I asked him. "Fancy a massage as well?"

"Er, fine, I guess," he replied.

"As it is your first time here, would you like a quick tour of our facilities?" she asked us.

"Er, yeah, that'd be helpful, thanks," I answered.

So I booked us both in for massages and paid the cost of our admission. The young woman then handed us two locker keys and a towel each and then pressed the buzzer that unlocked the door into the health spa proper.

"Just head on through and get undressed and I'll join you in a few minutes," she said as I pushed the door open and entered the changing room beyond.

The sight we were met with took us both by surprise - quite as to why it took us by surprise I have no idea, I mean what else would one expect to find in the changing area of a naturist health spa other than a man and woman undressing? Well, apart from the obvious things such as lockers and a low bench for sitting on in the middle of the room.

"Hi," the man greeted us as he folded his underwear and placed it in his locker.

He appeared to be in his mid forties, or possibly early fifties, with slightly greying chest hair, and I couldn't help but notice that he'd been circumcised. Well that was something I'd never seen before - not in the flesh, anyway. Almost as soon as I caught sight of the man's penis he wrapped his towel around himself, smiled at the two of us, and then turned and left the changing area with his female companion.

"Well, I guess that was something of an introduction to all this!" Patrick chuckled nervously.

"Let's just take a deep breath and get on with it," I said as I sat on the bench to take off my shoes and socks.

To begin with it just felt the same as undressing in a swimming pool changing room, right up until the moment I was down to my underthings. Normally at this point I would have already taken out my swimsuit in readiness to slip into it as quickly as possible, but on this occasion I had no swimsuit to put on - my own bare skin would be the only thing I would be seen in, and the moment of truth had finally arrived.

Patrick looked at me as though expecting me to take the lead. Oh well, I thought to myself as I took off my bra, here goes nothing! I put my bra into my locker and then slipped out of my panties to leave me totally naked and then placed them into my locker along with the rest of my clothes. As soon as I was completely bare I turned to face Patrick.

"Well, go on then," I prompted him as he stood there still in his underwear. "Get those pants off, Patrick, I don't want to be the only naked one out of the two of us!"

"Er, yeah, sure," he responded.

He took a deep breath and took his boxer briefs down and stepped out of them. Never before had I seen him take his pants off and then immediately wrap a towel around himself as quickly as he did at that moment. I couldn't help but chuckle at that - all his hasty covering up would achieve would be to delay the inevitable if he was to make use of any of the spa's facilities.

"You can't wear that in the jacuzzi," I pointed out to him as I took my own towel and wrapped it around myself.

"I know, it's just..."

"That's okay, hun, I know this is a bit scary, but it's scary for me too."

Just at that moment, the young woman from reception came into the changing area. In stark contrast to my husband and I who were naked, save for our towels of course, she was dressed in a pair of white tennis shorts and a navy blue and white polo shirt emblazoned with the health spa's logo on it.

"Ready for the tour?" she asked us.

"Yeah, I guess," I replied. "Er, what do we do with our locker keys?"

Well, it was a rather obvious question, but it was one that needed to be asked - after all, where does one keep one's locker key if you're totally naked? If they were attached to little rubber wristbands like the locker keys at our local swimming pool the answer would be obvious, but since the only thing our keys were attached to were small brass tags with the locker number engraved on them, where we were supposed to keep them was a mystery. But we were soon given an answer.

"Follow me," she said. "I'll show you where to put them."

She beckoned us to follow her and she led us around a corner and along a short corridor which opened up into a large lounge area with leather couches, a few tables and chairs, French doors that led outside into a secluded garden and woodland beyond, and a bar area with leather topped stools. She stopped by the bar where there was a small hole cut into the countertop.

"You can pop your keys in here, and any time you need to access your locker all you have to do is ask for your locker number and we'll hand your key back to you," she explained.

"Makes sense, I guess," I said with a shrug, and I dropped my key into the hole.

Patrick followed suit and dropped his key in the hole a moment later, and the young woman continued our tour.

"This is our main lounge area," she explained. "Because food and drink are served in this area we require guests to wear their towels, but everywhere else in the spa you are free to roam naked."

"Is it true that if we sit anywhere we have to sit on our towels?" Patrick asked her. "I er, read that once."

"Yes - it is considered good etiquette among naturists to always sit on your towel," she replied with a polite smile.

"A good nudist always knows where his towel is," Patrick smirked, paraphrasing from the late Douglas Adams book The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.

I was familiar with the book myself of course, and remembered the passage in question which mentions that a towel is "about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have" and can be used for a whole range of purposes. Including "avoiding the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you)". It then goes on to recommend that any galactic traveller worth his salt should always know where his towel is.

The tour of the spa's facilities began in earnest down in the basement, where there was a small swimming pool along with several hot tubs, a large jacuzzi, two saunas (one at 60°C and one at 70°C) a large steam room and no less than eight showers - all of which were communal of course. She then took us back up to the ground floor where she showed us the massage rooms, TV lounge, yoga studio and even a small gym. Continuing upwards we were shown the well-stocked library and another lounge area. On that level there was a conservatory filled with loungers ideal for reclining on and enjoying some natural daylight in even the most inclement weather. It overlooked the garden, which was of course completely secluded and not overlooked by any other buildings. There was a larger outdoor swimming pool, a tennis court, an area for playing pétanque, a large sun terrace and an immaculately manicured lawn, ideal for a game of croquet in the summertime. It being January however, there was nobody outside braving the chilly weather.

The tour concluded with a quick visit to the top floor where there were several rooms set aside for patrons to stay in. It was here that we had another close encounter with the spa's clientele. A young couple, both as naked as jaybirds, stepped out from one of the bedrooms carrying their towels.

"Morning!" they greeted us jovially as they passed us.

Of course I couldn't help but allow my gaze to briefly check out the guy's penis - it was pretty small, not much more than a stub of a thing really, but he didn't seem to care about his size, or apparent lack thereof. He just looked totally at ease as though he couldn't care less about what other people thought of his diminutive appendage. As though offering a sort of compensatory counterpoint to his penis however, his balls looked to be absolutely huge in comparison.

His companion's breasts made mine look rather small, and for a moment I contemplated the way their bodies so contrasted each other. But what struck me most about them was the way they seemed so completely comfortable in their nakedness, as though being seen naked and revealing their most intimate parts to a couple of total strangers was no big deal at all. It was my first moment of genuine realisation of what naturism is about, and suddenly I felt a bit silly for still wearing my towel. Without any further thought I shrugged the thing off and draped it over my shoulder. Patrick of course was taken aback somewhat that I had so casually discarded the only thing that concealed my total nudity, but rather than follow my lead he doggedly clutched on to his towel.

"No point in delaying the inevitable," I whispered to him. "Got to be seen naked at some point - that's precisely why we've come here after all, so why put it off?"

"I, er, I think I'll keep hold of my towel a little longer, if it's all the same to you," he whispered in reply.

The young woman announced a few moments later that our tour had concluded and bade us to enjoy the rest of our day. It had become clear to me that I was to be the 'leader' of our expedition into this place so I suggested that we went down into the basement to kick things off with a swim. I took Patrick by the hand and led him downstairs. I could feel his palm sweating and I could literally feel his nervousness conducting itself into me, but I knew I had to get him to let go of his precious towel somehow, otherwise the whole day would be a pointless exercise.

As we walked along the corridor and down the stairs, following the young couple we'd met a few moments earlier, I was surprised at how I felt almost instantly at ease at being naked. In fact, it didn't just feel okay to be naked with these other naked people, it actually felt quite wonderful - and I wanted Patrick to share in that feeling.

"Come on, take that towel off," I encouraged him.

"I... I don't know if I can," he stammered in reply.

"You're not..." I glanced down towards his crotch looking for any sign of enlargement. "Are you?"

I didn't need to use the word "erect" to get my thoughts across to him.

"Well... no - not yet, anyway," he responded.

"It won't happen, I promise," I said, trying to assuage his anxiety as best I could. "If you would only just relax and enjoy being naked instead of being afraid of it, you'll be surprised how quickly it feels so utterly natural."

"Is... is that how you feel? Right now?" he asked me.

"For a few seconds back there it felt a bit weird, I'll admit," I responded honestly. "But it only lasted a few moments. Look, Patrick, everyone here, well, except for the staff, is here to enjoy being naked - everyone is in the same boat here, and being naked is nothing to be ashamed of."