Polar Plunge
Antarctica
I AM RUSHING to the point of entry for the polar plunge, a rite of passage of sorts onboard ships cruising Antarctica. I am going to jump- willfully, voluntarily, intentionally- into the icy waters of the Antarctic Ocean. This activity on my cruise ship is something that I have been eagerly awaiting but also dreading just a bit. There were two sunny days that I thought for sure would be perfect for throwing myself into icy water, ideal for the ship’s polar plunge day, but the polar plunge was not scheduled on either of those two days. Today, however, the sun is once again shining and sparkling on this cold frigid place at the bottom of the world.
The past two days were overcast, cold and dreary. We motored around the deep, dark, pristine waters in an inflatable zodiac dodging chunks of ice and icebergs, looking at seals and penguins, watching massive albatrosses with their 12-foot wingspan fly overhead, hoping for a glimpse of a humpback whale. For my zodiac excursions, I was dressed in a parka, a fleece jacket, long johns, leggings and a wool shirt, waterproof pants, a hat, gloves, two pair of socks and muck boots. And a lifevest that inflates automatically in water.
But right now, a disembodied voice over the public address system on the ship intones, “For those of you wishing to do the polar plunge, please come down to Base Camp Three in five minutes.” Five minutes?! It takes me that long to change into my bathing suit! I grab the bathrobe hanging in the closet of my cabin and rush down to Base Camp Three, the area on Deck Three where equipment is issued and stored, boots are cleaned and disinfected, zodiacs and kayaks are launched. It’s too late to reconsider or back out if I will plunge or not. I have to hurry!
I line up with 60 other intrepid souls onboard the Endurance, our beautiful, state of the art X-bow ship. For the past several days, she’s quietly plowed through ice, clunking and popping ominously as big pieces of ice are hit and run over. The Endurance is kind of an ice breaker, but with paying passengers and better food! The name of our ship (don’t call it a boat) is slightly ominous, recalling images of THAT Endurance, the wooden ship which, under the command of Ernest Shackleton, was crushed and destroyed by pack ice in 1915 in these very waters.
The group of us waiting for the polar plunge laugh and talk nervously, shivering barefooted, not sure exactly what throwing ourselves into 34 degree water peppered with pieces of ice and icebergs will feel like. About half the ship’s passengers are doing the polar plunge today, including a gutsy 12-year-old girl and quite a few elderly folks.
I am number three in line, behind an athletic young woman and then my very fit friend, Linda, who originally had no intention of plunging until I talked her into it. “Once in a lifetime!” I said, convincing Linda that she’d always regret it if she didn’t plunge. Now I wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. What on earth was I thinking?? Before the cruise I thought I should practice jumping into my backyard pool, cold in January for Florida, but every time I walked by, it looked, well, COLD, so I just couldn’t bring myself to rehearse my polar plunge.
Today the ambient air temperature is 37 degrees and it is sunny, most unusual for the Antarctic peninsula in January, we are told. The 34 degree sea is 1500’ deep at this point. I take off my robe and step into the zodiac. I watch the young woman and then Linda jump into the icy water and quickly get pulled out. Suddenly I’m up. I step onto the pontoon of the zodiac.
“Three! Two! One!” the crew counts down, and I throw myself into the dark freezing water. It’s shocking and cold, but surprisingly not nearly as cold as I was expecting. I paddle my way up to the surface and the crew helps me out and back into the zodiac. I step back onto the Endurance. I am handed my robe and a crew member holding a tray of little glasses filled with vodka or Frangelico offers me a shot to warm up. I toss back a swallow of Frangelico and instantly feel the warmth swirl through me. I lick my lips. The water from the Antarctic Ocean is salty, much saltier than ocean water usually tastes.
My polar plunge has been recorded by a photographer in another zodiac facing the plunge adventure. When I see my photo later that day, taken right before I hit the water, I look like I am taking a deep breath. Or perhaps I am screaming.