Penguins and Polar Bears

In the Vancouver area, as I suppose, in a number of other areas where cold and colder water are a natural part of winter, a New Year’s tradition has emerged that baffles even the most liberal logician.  It’s called the Polar Bear swim.  Swim is actually a misnomer, because no one is actually in the water long enough to swim, however people do don bathing attire and occasionally more bizarre costumes, and plunge into English Bay for a few microseconds.  They then return to dry land and, traditionally, down a quick shot of the hair of the dog last seen the night before to celebrate their survival.

Initial suppositions regarding the impetus behind this strange tradition center on the excessive use of alcohol the night before which, we can agree, is an even better established tradition.  Over the years a number of theories have been suggested to explain the aquatic tradition (we all fully understand the alcoholic one). The first simply postulates that those who participate are still in advanced states of inebriation and therefore do not have any clue as to what they are doing.  They just attach themselves to some screaming herd of equally inebriated persons and en masse head in a random direction, which ends up at the low tide mark of the local beach. The evidence does not support this supposition, however, for if it were true, we would expect to see other random herds of drunken people doing equally stupid things like cramming into busses naked or riding the baggage carousels at the airport.  We don’t see those a lot so clearly the New Year’s dip is not a random drunken event, especially since we see it repeated reliably each and every year.

Cold water as a counter-irritant therapy to severe hangover has also been put forward as a possible explanation.   I liken this to sitting on a soldering iron to distract the pain from a toothache. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.  In the most severe cases of post partying pain, suicide by drowning might seem plausible but if one’s mood were that low, one wouldn’t likely wear a spandex Grinch costume to their demise.

To consider s more spiritual explanation, New Year’s symbolizes a new beginning, re-birth, starting over etc. This could provide a plausible explanation with English Bay being the metaphoric baptismal font.   The fact that twelve emergency vehicles, with resuscitation equipment, are present might cloud that theory, in that they portend the possibility of sudden death from hypothermic shock rather than rebirth.  However, it might also be supported by they the fact that most men’s personal private things have already begun to shrink down toward neonatal proportions just by thinking of the cold water ahead.

All of this questioning and considering has now led me here.  I have become obsesses with trying to understand this seasonal phenomenon.  This year I am participating in the local festivities at a smaller clone of the English Bay Polar Bay Swim.  The event in my neighborhood of Port Moody is called the Penguin Plunge.

Upon my arrival, one thing was very clear.  The ratio of observers to participants hovers around 60,000 to one, indicating once again, that jumping into freezing water is a questionable pastime enjoyed by only a special few and that voyeuristic sadism is a very popular form of entertainment.  I also note that the plungers are relegated to a roped off area of the boat launch while the observers are stationed high above, overlooking the boat launch from a high and sturdy pier.  They look down upon the plungers from a vantage point much like the boxes of royalty in opera houses of old, or like the Emperor’s box high above the gladiators on the floor of the ancient forum.  All around me warm breath fogs the air and people stomp their feet and shiver from the cold.

There are only two emergency vehicles here.  This disturbs me.  I think that there should be more.  Perhaps there should be one or two per participant, depending on their carrying capacity. I am deeply concerned, not so much that someone should expire, but rather that if they do, they may feel the eternal humiliation of meeting St. Peter while half naked, wearing felt reindeer antlers and a Little Mermaid life ring.  Life should be preserved to ensure death with dignity some time in the future.

The countdown takes place.  The herd roars and plunges into the water.  They turn around and roar again, in a much higher pitch and storm out much faster.

During the chaos, I am actually splashed by a few drops of the freezing water.  Others around me, all of us standing above the plungers atop the pier, step quickly back to avoid the splashes as well.  One errant drop hits me on the jaw and drips down my neck.  I shiver.  I am forced to remove my fur-lined leather glove, thus exposing delicate flesh to the frigid air to wipe it away.  The horror…!

Nest year I will continue my observations and try to find an answer to my question, “why?” And a new one – is there any significance to the fact that Polar Bears and Penguins reside at the opposite ends of the globe?  Until next year, you must excuse me – I must turn my attention to matters at hand.  I almost slopped my hot caramel macchiato in the jostle of the crowd, hurrying back to the sanctuary of our cars and their heaters.