Recreation: Free Beach

Just 40 miles south of San Francisco stretch the white sands of San Gregorio. One of the West Coast’s most beautiful beaches, it is also one of the most secluded. The 1½-mile stretch is hemmed in by steep sand cliffs, access is difficult and for some thirty years it has been a hideaway for a quiet band of nudists—men, women and sometimes whole families who descend on weekends and merrily remove their clothes.

Unlike many nudist colonies, which wall themselves in like monasteries, forbid liquor and anything that smacks of bodily contact, San Gregorio is considered a “free beach,” i.e. where bathers are free to wear or doff what they please. One flamboyant japer paraded around on his first day wearing bright red knee-length socks and nothing else. “Here there are no boundaries, no police, no rules,” said University of California Coed Nancy Harris. “Nobody bugs you.”

It took Darrell Tarver, a 28-year-old Air Force veteran and senior at San Francisco State College, to bring the joys of San Gregorio to a wider public. With a group of friends, he formed the “Committee for Free Beaches,” circularized the campuses of San Francisco and Berkeley, and soon more than 500 nudists each Sunday were wending their way to San Gregorio. “The greatest beach in the world,” said one stark-naked Foothill Junior College student, happily surveying the scene. “This is the best incentive I have to stay slim,” cried a Botticellian Berkeley coed as she raced into the combing breakers.

Human Chains. But with crowds, the idyl became chaotic. Bands of enthusiastic gawkers appeared, manning spyglasses from behind the bushes; planes from nearby Half Moon Bay Airport began buzzing the beach. Then one outraged parent claimed that his 14-year-old daughter had been persuaded to disrobe in public while visiting San Gregorio with another family. The father tried to press charges, but the county district attorney’s office ruled that the incident constituted neither lewd nor obscene conduct, and the case never made it to court. Nonetheless, the publicity put San Gregorio on the map.

With reporters prowling the area, Dairy Farmer Walter Bridge, who owns one of the two primitive roads leading to the beach, closed the path when newspapers publicized the fact that he was charging $1 for parking. That left only one access road through the jointly owned property of two avowed anti-nudists, and last week this too was closed with an armed guard to bar the way. But nothing seemed to daunt the enthusiastic nudists, who continued arriving wave on wave. Some made their way around the southern promontory at low tide; others formed human chains down the dangerous cliffside paths. All kept their sneakers on, at least until they hit the beach.