I stood on the aft deck, covered in layers and layers of clothing, and within minutes, my fingers were numb. I yearned to return to the warmth of my cabin, but staying was the least I could do: some of my intrepid boat-mates had opted for “ice dipping,” and I felt compelled to witness their bravery. First they trooped down the gangplank and made a stalwart march to the changing room on the icy pier; eventually they emerged in a variety of swimming costumes and made their way down to an enclosed bit of the Berents Sea. All was quiet until the first dip, when the whooping and yelping rang out. Yowza.
If any of them write blogs, they’ll have a fantastic entry tonight; that is if they are ever capable of typing again.
Live all you can, but do be sensible!