Skinny-dipping means testing different types of waters without any swimwear. Oh, yes, we young hellions used to do it often, usually after sneaking out of home at night. We used to take off to the suburban Bolgoda Lake or one of its clear flowing tributaries for a nocturnal skinny dipping adventure.
We had no inhibitions wading into the cool water completely starkers, that is buck naked. That was fine, there no girls in sight to ogle. With hindsight I wish I could relive my childhood without gender barriers.
To us even in later years swimming in the wild was therapeutic. It was part of the everyday happiness to our lives. There is a beautiful sense of calm about swimming in nature, unregulated, unobserved and often unthinking. Later when my parents moved to Colombo a good part of my childhood was spent in the happy hunting grounds of Crows’ Island, which borders the estuary where the Kelani River merges with the sea.
It was then considered among our city’s pristine wetlands. In the company of more than a half-dozen cousins, friends and neighbourhood kids we would wander down to the river banks and spend some of the happiest times of our lives in that magical environment.
It stood out as an ideal habitat for wetland biodiversity, and was considered one of the most valuable conservation areas in Colombo. Even decades later we savour those untroubled memories, which still make our hearts throb with nostalgia. Who can forget the happy cries when we splashed and frolicked in the crystal clear aqueducts that flowed, courtesy of the Kelani Ganga.
The rapture of little boys in those bucolic surroundings is easy to understand. To us it was a complete and sheer fantasy world where we played and gambolled to our heart’s content. The ‘kirala kelle’ wetlands were alluring with their trees towering above the marshes making fascinating patches of sun and shadow. They offered an abundance of its delicious fruit, the marsh apple, which could be eaten on the spot or taken home and squeezed to make a delicious and invigorating drink.
Experience soon taught us to steer clear of some inviting clear pools inhabited with the omnivorous kaviyya fish which took painful nips at our fingers, toes or any other tempting visible appendages they mistook for a meal. We suspected soon enough that these denizens of the invigorating pools were closely related to the piranhas of the South American rivers.
Actually, even the harmless freshwater fish can bite - most of them just nibble and suck and are not painful but it depends on the strength of their suck and their teeth. Also some of the little white fish are drawn to skin irritations and things like insect bites.
I do not contend that the schools of shoaling Kavaiyyas pecking at your pinkies or any other vital part of your anatomy could cause as serious damage as their South American counterparts. Yet their nips are unpleasant to say the least.
Nonetheless we were not in their territory seeking a free manicure or pedicure . And neither did we fancy an attempted type of initiatory rite of circumcision in the process. I am reliably given to understand that some enterprising foot therapists are now offering these fishy pedicures in the UK.
Worse, one had also to watch out for mud crabs which could sink their murderous sharp claws into anything they perceived as a dangling morsel to latch onto. They were the nightmare of all skinny-dippers because when they clamped their claws into your fingers or toes or that unmentionable adjunct of one’s manhood they refused obdurately to release their hold even if you snapped the claw from their body.
But, let me allay all readers’ fears that I do not, decidedly do not, go skinny dipping in public. Be aware that I am in no way any kind of exhibitionist. Anyone with the temerity to suggest that I fit the category of flasher, flaunter or pervert will be liable to be sued.
Ok, I admit I have done some daft, school-boyish stunts that could be considered hilariously risqué. But don’t try imitating my feat of slipping off my swimming trunks in deep ocean water and waving them at my friends frolicking in the shallows or lounging on the shore. It never fails to raise a good laugh.
All innocent frivolity, no doubt, although there are diverse risks involved. An imitator tourist found out for himself while trying the same lark to amuse his companions lolling on the shore. But I knew the lie of the surf and dived under as a huge wave broke. The copycat was not so fortunate. He had not bargained for the impetuosity of the breakers.
Taken completely unawares he lost his hold on his swimwear and was dragged by the wave with nightmarish rapidity towards the shoreline. Overpowered by the velocity of the wave he was turned over, under, sideways and down the frothy depths.
All too soon he was dragged across the sandy bottom and deposited into calm water and finally the beach itself. The receding surf brought him into the shallows where he dared not stand.
He stumbled to his feet but another foamy wave sent him crashing with prodigious force close to the hordes of sun-tanners on the sandy dunes. To tell the naked truth he was beached and buck naked. He lounged for a while in his birthday suit, bottoms up in the shallows.
His protruding rump began sagging jelly-like with every surge and ebb of the fizzy swell. He was now within point-blank range of scores of stunned beach ‘lollers’.
As he staggered to his feet the hapless exhibitionist was exposed to the vulgar gaze of a multitude of amused gawkers. A few flashbulbs popped as some quick-on- the-draw camera buffs took a once in a lifetime snapping opportunity.
The hilarious cameo triggered a raucous, riotous response from the crowd as children rudely pointed and doubled over with merriment. A wave of uproarious laughter exploded across the sandy expanse as our vulnerable hero covered his immodesty with both hands as he made a frenzied scuttle for his towel.
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