Polar bear challenge

So what were over 100 people, standing around in boardies and bikinis on Clifton Fourth beach on the winter solstice, doing? No, it wasn’t a massive photo shoot for the summer 2009 collection, it was the Polar Bear Challenge! While this isn’t quite the same as swimming in the sea on New Years day in Canada (think temperatures of 0C or below) for those of you who have withstood a Cape Town winter you’ll know it isn’t for sissies. The day dawned bright and chirpy (contrary to my prayers of rain which would have ensured I stayed in bed) so I had no excuse but to get up, pull on my bikini, pack the Old Brown Sherry and head for Clifton beach. Luckily for me there were other crazy fools doing the same thing and I was greeted by a rather festive bunch on the beach, with a few kiddies in the group to show that while we all thought we were tough, we were not.

Stripping down to our swimwear at the instructions of the challenge organizers (for our photo shoot) I was rather chuffed that it was at least a few minutes before I was covered in goosebumps. By this stage some low level clouds were heading our way like university students heading for free booze so it was decided to get on with it and blew the whistle was blown. The swimmers surged towards the surf, while I strolled down amongst them (figuring the longer I took to get to the water the better I could outlast those in front). My brother appeared out of nowhere (this after laughing at my folly on the phone when I tried to convince him it was a great idea) so some good sibling rivalry got the better of me and I went for the plunge while he tried my strolling tactic. Jimmy was right alongside me with his chafe vest on (Jimmy mistakenly believed that this was not cheating). I was surprised to find myself in neck deep water, still breathing. My experiences of swimming at Clifton in summer always end with me running out, frozen like a grinidilla lolly, ten seconds after getting in.

I bobbed around for a bit, and pretended to be interested in that great male game of throwing a tennis ball around. Thinking I’d done my bit by catching at least one good wave body surfing (a good wave is classed as one where you body surf for sufficiently long for your bikini bottoms to start coming off and your top to play hide and seek, causing you to crouch low in the freezing cold water so that you can pull everything into its right place again and not give everyone an eyeful when standing up) and having been in sufficiently long enough not to be classes as a sissy (what with jimmy and boet hanging out at knee deep depth watching everyone else) I thought I’d head back for a sip of my Obies.

By this point the last of the sun was disappearing (I must’ve been in for ten minutes or so) but the Obies did its job (and I’d had enough forethought to pack a hot water bottle [I tell you I should’ve been a boy scout!]).

About 15 mins later Neil lurched out, blue, having made the 30 min cutoff time. Quite appropriate then when a lady walked our with a little piece of blue paper with a stamp on it and told him that it was his Polar Bear membership card (you’d think they’d laminate it at least seeing as the whole challenge involves water). Maybe next time I’ll stay in for the full time to get the membership ‘card’, or more likely, maybe not!

Note Neil, with the tennis ball in his hands in the pic!