Lilithe Bowman enjoys her first time at the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
For at least eight decades, Hanlan’s Point Beach on the Toronto Islands has served as a place of relief for the LGBTQ+ community – a secluded retreat in the city, but apart from it.
Though the nude beach has always been open to anyone, attracting naturists, families, visitors young and old, LGBTQ+ people have a particular attachment to this swath of dunes, forests and water.
City officials authorized the northern tip of the beach as a nude bathing site in 1890. By the 1940s, Hanlan’s had become a gathering place for queer people, away from prying eyes and prejudice. In 1971, the beach hosted a “Gay Day Picnic,” planting the seeds for the city’s first Pride celebrations.
A landmark of Canada’s queer community for nearly a century, this place and its future have grown uncertain, coming under threat repeatedly. The spot of that early Pride picnic is now underwater, the surrounding dunes trampled, the beach washed away. This winter, a battle erupted after city planners floated the idea of a permanent event space steps away from what remains of Hanlan’s Point Beach, which draws bigger crowds with each passing season. Advocates pushed back, worried this concert venue would flood the nude beach with hordes of revellers unfamiliar with what the place is – bringing risk of conflict.
“There’s a parallel between the physical, environmental erosion of the beach, and the cultural and historic erosion taking place,” said Travis Myers, a co-founder of the volunteer group Friends of Hanlan’s who is advocating that the city prioritize queer history, safety for LGBTQ+ people and ecological protection here.
Facing resistance from naturists and LGBTQ+ advocates, the city cancelled plans for a permanent concert venue here. Instead, city council passed two motions recently, recognizing the beach as a historically queer space and pledging to preserve its culture and history and to restore its fragile ecology. To start, the city has expanded clothing-optional space across the beach and marked it with two towering Pride flagpoles. The motions also push for clearer signage labelling the space as clothing optional; markers recognizing the beach as an LGBTQ+ cornerstone; a new paved trail to ease overcrowding; fencing to boost privacy and safety; and a restoration of eroded beach areas, including the location of Toronto’s inaugural Pride.
The recommendations to city staff are particularly urgent, with volunteer group Friends of Hanlan’s documenting a rise in homophobic harassment at the beach, including a 2021 attack that left a young man unconscious and concussed.
“As we have seen so many queer spaces being threatened, it’s about being even more protective, vigilant and committed to the spaces we have, that invite people who’ve been coming for decades, as well as new people discovering the space,” said Toronto councillor Ausma Malik, who introduced the motions.
In July, beachgoers spoke with The Globe and Mail about what they value in this sliver of public space.
Trio of friends Frank Kewin, 64, Pedro Rodriguez, 48, and Marcelo Castro, 56, wore one Speedo and a pair of blue goggles between them.
Pedro Rodriguez, Frank Kewin and Marcelo Castro enjoy the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
“This is one of the places with the best energy you can find in the world,” said Mr. Rodriguez, a purchasing and supply chain manager who’s frequented Hanlan’s for five years. “It doesn’t feel like you’re in the city, minutes from the city. You’re able to disconnect, be with nature in a safe space.”
Walking the beach, Mr. Kewin, a psychotherapist from Barrie, Ont., finds it calming. “It’s not only a sanctuary for people now, it’s also a beacon for the people who don’t feel safe in the spaces they’re in.”
Naturists Lauren Lafayette Brooks, Nathan Johnson and their children enjoy the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
Travelling from their homestead outside of Belleville, Ont., Lauren Lafayette Brooks, a 36-year-old performance artist, and Nathan Johnson, 37, a studying as an architect technician, brought along their five children, who played in the sand by the water’s edge.
The first time the naturist couple set foot on the beach 14 years ago, Ms. Lafayette Brooks was pregnant with their first-born. To her, the beach offers a window onto real bodies at all stages of life, including motherhood.
“There’s this idea that you can only be nude when you are young and your body is managed and perfect. Being a mother of many and having the stretch marks and whatever else, I’m proud to sit here and show this body that brought five beings into this world.”
She hopes days like this one will help instill a non-judgmental stance in their kids: “They can see there is no perfect body – there’s nothing they need to aim toward.”
Visiting Hanlan’s for the first time, software developer Lilithe Bowman set up with her friends under a massive Pride flag, waving in the breeze.
“It felt like I’m with my people,” said Ms. Bowman, who is transgender.
After she began transitioning, Ms. Bowman stopped going to beaches altogether. “In public, I feel I’m conspicuous sometimes,” she said. “I feel like I made a choice to do something for myself but I’m sacrificing swimming for it, even though it’s something I grew up with and loved my whole childhood. But I hope to get back to it. And this helps me a bit.”
Deborah Primeau has been coming to the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto for over ten years. She was at the beach on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
A Hanlan’s devotee for a decade, Deborah Primeau loves its live-and-let-live spirit: “It’s pure happiness,” said the 39-year-old, who identifies as asexual and aromantic.
She described feeling self-conscious after losing 80 pounds, but being able to shed her discomfort, along with her top, at a party here last summer: “Whatever insecurity you have, let it go. You won’t be judged here.”
She worries about a “bro frat party” culture taking root on the beach; others complained about gawkers peering through binoculars on rented party yachts anchored just offshore.
“I don’t want it to go down that route,” she said. “Keep Hanlan’s gay.“
Naturists Devika Chawla and Rahul Ghosh enjoy the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
“As I always say: no clothes, no problem,” quips Rahul Ghosh, who’s on the beach for the first time with his wife Devika Chawla, driving in from Hamilton for a naturist event dubbed “Hanlan’s in the Buff.”
Ms. Chawla, director at large of the Federation of Canadian Naturists, sees nudity (or “getting textile free”) as a great equalizer between people, removing evidence of wealth and class.
Plus, she said, it feels good, especially on a beach: “The cool breeze, the fresh air, the green plants, the water – you are feeling every bit of it in your skin cells. I wish people could be open enough to have that feeling before being judgmental.”
Gene Dare was in a baby carriage his first time on the Toronto Islands, six decades ago. His father was an avid fan of the air show, bringing his family out to the points at Hanlan’s and Gibraltar as jets screamed overhead. The islands were their escape in the city.
Mr. Dare, a naturist who organizes the annual World Naked Bike Ride Toronto, has been a fixture at Hanlan’s since 1999, when more clothing optional space was restored thanks to a community pilot project. “My father would kill me if he knew,” Mr. Dare said of his naturist pursuits. “He’s old school.”
A Hanlan’s diehard, he’s lakeside March to November. As unofficial games master, he sets up volleyball nets and posts, paying for all the equipment, which he stores in a box buried deep in the sand.
Watching crowds grow at the beach, Mr. Dare hopes the city will restore vast tracts of beach lost to erosion. “Where the boats are parked right now, that was our shoreline,” he says, pointing out to the lake.
Naturist Gene Dare enjoys the clothing optional beach at Hanlan’s Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
Hearing stories about the nude beach for years, Chris Otchere, 20, finally dipped a toe in, first on a quiet weekday, then for a weekend party.
“Coming to this space was like coming into adulthood,” he said, braving the waves in a cobalt blue thong.
He suspects he’d be too self-conscious to don the tiny strip of fabric at another public beach in the city, “scared of being hate-crimed, or people being rude.”
He hopes the city will invest more into Hanlan’s. Pointing to the gentrification of Church Street, another LGBTQ+ landmark in the city, he said, “Our queer spaces are disappearing. Soon, the generation after us won’t have any place to go.”
Chris Otchere enjoys the clothing optional beach at Hanlan's Point in Toronto on July 29.Jennifer Roberts/The Globe and Mail
On the ferry to this place for the first time last year, Suraj Mistry was uncertain about the scene he’d encounter emerging from the wooded dunes.
“I didn’t see many people like me in some of my circles,” said Mr. Mistry, who is South Asian, bisexual and non-binary.
On the beach were people of all ages and shades, some nude, others in splashy swimwear, like his own millennial pink Speedo.
“Being on the beach alone with my thoughts, knowing that I belong here, it feels like a place of peace and rest,” said the 30-year-old software developer.
“I love going, even when it’s quiet, and reading a book, knitting, listening to the water and thinking back to how many years this beach has been enjoyed by so many people who came here out of urgency, necessity. It feels bigger than me, and I like the feeling of feeling small, and that I am one of many.”
Suraj Mistry at Hanlan’s Point.Supplied
Zosia Bielski