Water Baby

By Will Seagers

Hi Folks, Will Here! In the spirit of "The Good Old Summertime," today's blog is about my life's encounters with the great and not so great bodies of water around the globe.

Born right at the edge of two signs, Capricorn (the sea goat) and Aquarius (the water bearer), I have had a life-long affinity to water. Until recently, I have had the privilege of living near an ocean, bay, lake or pond. There has always been a feeling of connection with these various bodies of water. From childhood till about twenty-five years ago, I was always within a short walk or drive to these "spiritual retreats." For the last twenty-five years, I have been surrounded by an inland ocean, so to speak - the Great American Southwest Desert!

Recounting the early years, my father was kind enough to take my brothers, sisters and myself to the "Shore" or to various man-made lakes in the northern part of my home state, New Jersey. The shore visits were always memorable because lots of our extended family lived along the coast. They were like mini family reunions. With that, a host of my aunts and uncles had us under their close watch and "policed" our activities in the water. Good thing, too, as riptides and turbulence were common occurrences. Although the beaches were always staffed with lifeguards, you could never have too many eyes on the kids in the water.

Next stop, the lakes. Another set of memories came from my father taking us kids up to "the lakes." These were in the northern counties of N.J. and usually fed by a nearby natural spring. I loved the lakes because the water was fresh and potable, unlike the brine of the ocean. But, here is where I had my first brush with mortality. I was about seven or eight and still didn't know how to swim. Normally, this would not be a problem, as I seldom ventured beyond the water's edge. But, this one outing we brought an old inner tube with us for some floating fun. Being the oldest of my siblings, I laid claim to it and promptly started floating out to the middle of the lake. I was okay until a rather nasty looking horse fly landed on my arm. Terrified, I swatted at my arm and went ass over tea kettle out of the inner tube and into about twenty feet of water. In a panic, I sunk below the water's surface. Luckily, the lifeguard snagged me by the back of the neck and hauled me to shore... safe but shaken. Swimming lessons soon followed. In the interim between my inner tube feat and learning to swim, my father was kind enough to erect an above ground pool in the backyard. It was quite sizeable and a big hit in the neighborhood... to say the least.

Learning to swim at the YMCA. Yet another fine gesture of my father was weekly visits to the local "Y." To say that I was stimulated by the size of the pool and the fact that all the men in the pool were naked was an understatement. After the initial shock of it all wore off, I was ready, willing and able to learn how to swim. My only regret was the horrific chlorine levels of this pool. My eyes burned and stayed red for hours.

Move the calendar forward fifteen years... San Juan and a few oceanic escapades. While stationed in San Juan with Eastern Airlines, I lucked out. I shared a beach side casita just minutes from the famous Condado resort beaches and their hotels. Before flights, particularly in the winter, I would grab my beach chair and head down for an hour or so of sun to flaunt aboard the airplanes. One morning while taking a dip in front of the Carribe Hilton, I saw the commotion of two locals swimming furiously into the water with bowie knives in their mouths. An unusual sight, indeed. But the swimmers around me stayed put. Moments later, all of us were shocked as the two men returned back to shore with two hammerhead sharks they retrieved from the very area we all were in! The local hotels paid men like these a bounty for catching these sharks. The other pre-flight swim that vividly comes to mind was me coming up out of the water underneath a Portuguese Man-O-War! What a horror. It seemed like forever before I had removed all of the stinging tentacles from my face. I was assisted by a hotel lifeguard who knew to spray my face with benzocaine. I guess I wasn't his first. I was thankful. In just a few short minutes, the red and swelling vanished and I was home and showering for my flight. Man-O-War, indeed!

Half a decade later I was living in San Francisco and enjoying both the frigid Pacific waters at San Gregorio beach (just north of San Francisco), and the lovely, almost tepid waters of the Russian River near Guerneville. The beach was great. And, as long as the day was hot enough the Pacific could be tolerated - albeit for brief dips! And, the little enclaves along the base of the mountains were perfect places to take full advantage of the clothing optional status!

Of course, clothing optional was the way of life along the Russian River banks, as well. Lots of romping in the nearby woods was standard bill of fare. (You just had to be careful of poison ivy and ticks!) I was privy to seeing the whole Russian River resort phenomenon explode. No more bushes and ticks. Resorts like The Woods and Fifes were a more civilized approach. And happily, the clothing optional thing followed along, too!

Oh, and did I mention that I was bi-coastal at this point? I spent half my year in S.F. and the other half on Fire Island working in The Pines as (you got it) a lifeguard at the Boatel. After getting my Red Cross certification at the downtown S.F. YMCA, I matriculated from Pines waiter to Pines lifeguard! It was a small pool with a bar and restaurant attached. So, some slinging of drinks and food came along with the title.

In the 1990s, I return to the East Coast. I was soon acquainted with Sandy Hook State Park Beach. Although from N.J. originally, I never knew about nor had I ever visited this beach. At the very tip of Monmouth County with a view of Manhattan, its white sandy beaches beckoned another clothing optional crowd. I liked the beach and the crowd and made some buddies straight up. The water's temps were comfortable and the water was quite clean... All the better to see bouncing genitals in the surf! LOL. You did have to be aware of the local park police who seemed to delight in hauling off beach patrons for anything they deemed as lude or lascivious. It was hard to stay behaved with so much flesh in your face! But behaved you were or off you went in a paddy wagon!

South Beach followed. What more can I say. It was 1994 and the gay invasion had begun down there. I had never seen anything like it. Stuff went on right on the beach with no cops to be found! I know firsthand... it happened to me. I didn't really like the water too much. It was like a bathtub and not particularly clean. Oh. And, did I mention the frequent sightings of Portuguese Men-O-War? Reason enough to stay on the beach and ogle all of the cuties! Just when I thought I saw the most handsome man in the world, the next contender blew him right off the map! But, it was a very - let me repeat, VERY - fast-paced town. It was very hard to make friends because people were here one day and gone the next! (Quel problème!)

Now in my seventies, I revel in all of my memories of the beaches, rivers, ponds and lakes. Of late, I have traded the vast oceanic vistas for those of the Southwest desert. They are quite beautiful, too. But, I will have to admit It is hard to splash around and frolic in the desert sand!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo