I Wished I Lived on a Nude Beach

I wish I lived on a nude beach.

A long time ago my favorite nude beaches were in Southampton, Martha’s Vineyard, and Corfu. Southampton, unfortunately, has turned into a crass playground of the arrivistes.

My favorite beach in the world and all my life is Gayhead Beach at the far western end of the island of Martha's Vineyard. It is known for its regal cliffs made of many layers of different colored clay.

Bathing in the clay was otherworldly.

Soon it was outlawed.

It was a memorable peak experience which can never be repeated, because since then, Martha's Vineyard, though it was always home to Jackie O and other famous people, became the St. Barts or Monaco of the U.S. celebrity set.

Way back then it was much more peaceful. In the 1950s great but down to earth artists used to have all night dance parties on their decks in Chilmark. It was cool and really peaceful. In the 1980s I could still ride my bike from Oak Bluffs to Gayhead, 20 miles uphill, and not see a car the whole way..

Still, Edgartown was for the preppies, Yale Men, and CEOs who cut loose by shedding their business suits for pink or lime great sport jackets and plaid pants. Hooah!

Gayhead was settled by Aquinnah Indians of the Wampanaug nation who still live there, and Gayhead was their town. Real "wampum," for money, and in the form of purple shells, could still be found, and you could still eat Sunday morning brunch at the "Aquinnah Shop" without having to wait on line.

One of my best friends had an eighteenth century farmhouse down in the woods in Gayhead and I was there every summer. The clapboard house with hardwood floors was surrounded by the majestic piled stone walls photographed by Aaron Siskind in the 1950s. I took my bicycle on the ferry and rode up island or else camp in the woods.

There were two movie theaters and two fine restaurants. In funky Oak Bluffs, there was an historical African American community, as well as, a jewel of a Methodist "campground" and tabernacle, around which dozens of tiny gingerbread houses painted all pastel colors sat.

Was it all a dream? Because now I’m not rich enough to stay there.