Beyond Freezing

I stood at the gangplank of the ship, with thoughts rushing through my brain- should I do it, or not?

Aboard the ship to Antarctica, on one of the last days, the crew had a tradition called the "Polar Plunge," where they tie you to a rope and you jump into the freezing cold waters of the Antarctic ocean. The rope was so that you wouldn't get pulled away with the current.

So you're probably thinking, wetsuit, or full body suit at the least, but no. It was me and my bright pink swimsuit tied to that rope on the edge of the boat waiting to jump in.

And so I jumped, knowing that it would be cold, but not that cold. The temperature was 1 degree celsius, which is about 33 degrees Farenheit. And it was freezing cold- like a thousand million billion needles attacking me at once.

I came out screaming like a little penguin jumping out of the ocean. But, hey, at least I did it. And unfortunately I couldn't have one of those Vodka shots that all the adults got when they completed this "absurd act of heroism." Atleast I could look forward to the hot shower that was soon to come.

My certificate specified that at 64° 53' South and Longitude 62° 52' West, "I did most sturdily enter the invigorating waters of the Southern Ocean... and had a temporary loss of any common sense." You can basically say I was crazy.