Jervis Bay

I can't help but grin. Naturally I've seen my wife naked before. This, however, is a little different.

On Murray's Beach we face each other, naked from head to toe, feeling the warm air on our skin, the sand beneath our toes. Hand in hand we walk down to the waters edge, our eyes squinting at the risen sun as it climbs over the sea. The waves rush up to meet us, and despite the early hour the water isn't cold, but it is deliciously cool - refreshing. The waves are quite gentle, Bowen Island opposite sheltering the beach from the full force of the sea.

We wade out further, the sea rising up to hide our nakedness, letting the water wash us clean, feeling the force of the waves as they pass over us, pass through us - a familiar sensation, but new to some places previously hidden behind shorts. It's a purer sensation. I'd thought people went skinny-dipping for the sheer naughtiness of it: to see each other naked, to play naked, to be caught naked - I'd never really considered that being naked in itself would make such a compelling difference to the experience of being in the waves. Still, it is deliciously naughty too, and I'm grinning again.

This little spot of paradise is on the east coast of Australia just south of Kiama and north of Milton, a mere 180km from Sydney. But Jervis Bay is not in NSW - we're in the little-heard-of 3rd mainland territory of Australia: JBT, the Jervis Bay Territory.

It's incredible to think that in 1971 the Australian government was actually building a nuclear reactor right by this spot - the Murray's Beach car park in fact - but thankfully the project was shelved by an incoming Prime Minister before little more than the concrete footings were built.

By the time we get out it's already half past eight - but still there is no-one in sight. I feel no need to hurry as I towel my hair dry, my body still wet from the sea but warming rapidly in the sun. I pick my clothes up and put them on with slight regret: somehow it feels more natural now to be unclothed in this warm, bright, deserted environment.

My t-shirt had been shading a carton of milk we'd bought from Jervis Bay Village, and taking this and other supplies we make our way over to the edge of the wood for the small amount shade thrown by it's canopy. Emma takes a knife and slices a mango into bowls of muesli now soaking up ice-cold milk, and we sit on a fallen tree trunk eating our breakfast with some hunger, invigorated by our swim yet relaxed by such tranquil surroundings.