Spontaneous dip becomes a little embarrassing

Like Clegg in Last of the Summer Wine, I don't do brave. When they were handing out courage I must have been in the loo, because I've spent a lifetime avoiding situations that require me to stand in harm's way. Mind you, there have been times when even this cautious approach has let me down. One such incident happened some 30 years ago on my way to attend a conference on rehabilitation engineering in the UK.
I'd been asked by a professional colleague who lectured at an adult education institution in Auckland if I would give a presentation on the subject of ergonomics to his students. The offer included overnight accommodation, meals and transport to and from the airport.
I agreed, and in the morning of the arranged day presented a one hour lecture to his students. After the delivery, I was invited to have lunch at the Institute's senior common room.
During the meal my colleague asked if I was committed for the afternoon, and if not, would I like to join him on a visit to a local commune where he ran stress management courses as part of the organisation's commercial activities.
Never having visited a commune I expressed interest and we spent the first part of the afternoon walking around the commune's campus and viewing its facilities. These included a communal dining room and dormitory as well as workshops that produced a wide range of products. A speciality of the wood and metal workshop was the manufacture of spa pools. Asked if I'd like to see one in operation I was taken by my colleague to the commune's recreational area.
This was in a very sheltered part of the campus, and the complex included a gym, open air swimming pool and a spa pool.
As I admired the facilities, my colleague asked me if ever tried an open air spa.
"No" I replied, and with that I was invited to strip off and step into the spa pool.
"What, here and now?"
"Why not, we've got time and it's totally private. There's no-one around at this time of the day."
Relaxing in the spa pool, my colleague told me that normally the water temperature of the spa pool was much higher allowing users to alternate between the heat of the spa pool and the cold of the swimming pool.
It was then I became conscious of female voices, and before I could exit the spa pool and grab my clothes, a group of women shed theirs, stepped into the spa pool and greeted us with smiles and the comment "We've turned up the heat. The water was far too cool."
Over the next hour the women and my colleague flitted between the spa and swimming pools while I grew increasingly uncomfortable as the water temperature and my embarrassment rose. With the departure of the women my colleague turned to me and commented: "I bet you didn't know boobs floated."
It took about a week before I stopped looking like a prune, and I still have difficulty making eye contact with women.