My first trip to a tropical island was 23-years ago this month. After our wedding, my husband and I traveled to St. Bart’s Island and rented a tiny villa that had a bed, a bathroom, and an outside kitchen. It was just the right size for honeymooners like ourselves.
St. Bart’s is absolutely beautiful and the beach we traveled to for the day was completely deserted. I had never sunbathed topless before but thought to myself, “What better time to try out sunbathing topless than on my honeymoon?” I wasn’t a prude but had never actually been on a beach where topless sunbathing would have gone unnoticed. (After 4 home exchange trips to Europe and several trips to the Bahamas, I have clearly embraced this method of appearing on the beach – much to my children’s chagrin.)
How Bo Derek Crashed My Honeymoon
We spread out our blanket on the hot sand and got our books positioned overhead to block the afternoon sun. We were settling in for a little “reading in the sun until we had to jump in the water” session. After a short time of this honeymoon paradise, a couple walked up and dropped their items about 5 feet away from us. I was a little annoyed by this closeness. The beach was entirely empty and yet they plopped down closer to us than was necessary. They had the usual beach gear – blanket, towels, boom box, and snorkeling equipment. I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and striking the woman was. I didn’t know if it was the hot Caribbean sun or because I was laying down, but she looked very familiar to me.
Wait – did I mention the boom box was blaring? (For those of you who are younger, a “boom box” is a carry around stereo that plays music. Music that came from a compact disc or cassette tape. It was 1990 for goodness sake! No one had even heard of an iPod or could dream of playing music on a cell phone.) Enough history lesson and back to the story –
This incredibly attractive couple had a boom box that had to be carried on a shoulder. It was large and the music was loud. They spread out their blanket on the burning hot sand, positioned their boom box just so, and began to disrobe.
I was still lying down but propped myself up on my elbows for the show. (I was definitely staring more than my polite new husband!) This woman began to take every stitch of clothing off. First her hat, then off came the pareo, sunglasses, and finally her bikini. She was buck-naked and believe me when I tell you – there was not a tan line in sight!
Next, out came the sunblock – although being 1990, I’m pretty sure it was Hawaiian Tropic Tanning Oil. The frenzy about skin cancer hadn’t started yet so we all were pretty greased up without blocking any of the sun’s harmful rays. (If my dermatologist is reading this, yes, I know, I should have been wearing sunblock but this is why I visit you regularly.)
Ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?
Back to the naked lady and the tanning oil – next, this woman started rubbing herself with oil and I mean it was a full body rub down. There wasn’t a spot on her body that she skipped. No wonder she didn’t have a tan line – she was an absolute professional when it came to being naked in the sun. I had a lot to learn from her!
As soon as the couple skipped off to the water with their snorkeling gear and nothing else, my husband and I looked at each other with wide eyes and wide mouths. Neither of us could believe who it was and the show we had just witnessed. We were both speechless until I broke the silence.
“That’s it. We’re leaving,” I said.
“What? Why? Shouldn’t we stay and keep an eye on their things? What about their boom box? Shouldn’t we make sure no one takes it?” were just a few of the many responses I heard from my husband.
Okay, really? Who was he trying to kid here?
The thought of having to witness Bo Derek bouncing out of the water all greased up and wet without a tan line in sight was going to be too much for me. It was definitely going to be too much for my 23-year-old husband!
I had to repeat myself, “Nope. Not happening. We’re leaving!” Books packed, blanket rolled, tanning oil shoved into the backpack and into our little mini Moke car we went. Neither of us could believe our chance meeting. Or luck. Or that Bo Derek had crashed our honeymoon!
We looked for Bo Derek and her husband, John, around St. Bart’s the rest of our trip but never ran into them.
She is definitely a “10.”
Where did you spend your honeymoon? Any celebrity run-ins while traveling stories?
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