THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, January 2, 1997 TAG: 9701020056
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MATTHEW BOWERS, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: 93 lines
Cold. Wet and cold.
Most humans try mightily to avoid this condition. London Fog certainly didn't become a big company because people like being wet and cold.
But on Wednesday afternoon that combination brought 11 guys in swimsuits to First Landing-Seashore State Park. Water and air temperatures in the 40s. One wet, cold body of water: The Narrows between Broad and Linkhorn bays.
The Virginia Beach Polar Bear Club made its 13th consecutive first-day-of-the-year swim.
The ``club'' is former Navy SEAL turned tree surgeon Gerald R. Hackman and a bunch of his buddies, many of whom also are former or current SEALs. The 35-year-old Hackman brought the practice with him from Sheboygan, Wis., where he was a member of a group that annually hopped into chilly Lake Michigan.
Why? He can't think of a better way to start a new year.
``It's just something to do,'' Hackman said.
``It's just a great way to start the year,'' agreed Brent L. Barker, a 31-year-old former SEAL and now a personal trainer, wrapped like several others in a bathrobe. ``It's just something different. Instead of the mundane day-to-day activities of life, you have a different . . .''
He stopped, then started again: ``How many people do you hear every year say they're bored? `I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored.' This isn't boring.''
It was the second plunge for Barker. He dragged along a first-timer, his roommate, another SEAL who only gave the name Scotty.
``It's just camaraderie,'' Scotty said. ``I couldn't let him down, so I said, `Yeah.' ''
It also was the first time for Todd P. Starkey, a 27-year-old marine machinist and former Marine.
``Life's short,'' he said. ``I look forward to doing something I haven't done before. But after it sank in a little while, I said, `Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!'
``But after I got through the Gulf (War), I figure a little cold water won't hurt.''
The designated hour approached. Towels and bathrobes were hung on a ``No Swimming'' sign. About 30 people - wives and friends holding cameras and towels, kids bundled in winter coats, passers-by walking dogs - stood watching, laughing and shaking their heads.
The 11 participants - a record for the club - lined up at water's edge. Some hugged. Some yelled. Most shivered. Hackman warned about the current.
``As long as you keep moving, you're not going to get cold,'' he had said earlier. ``Then you move real fast.
``The hardest thing, I'd say, is that initial three or four seconds. Your whole body tightens up. The easiest thing is to plunge in. If you go in nice and slow, that's torture.''
At 1:05 p.m., with a shout, they waded in. Some dived quickly. Others struggled in thigh-deep before dunking themselves. Three dashed out immediately while the others swam around either of two pilings several yards from shore.
``Holy crap - it's cold!'' blurted out William B. Hayden, at 12 the youngest participant. He and his mother, Trina Colabello, said the youngster wanted to follow his seven-time polar-bear uncle, John C. Sanabia.
``It's good for his soul,'' said mom. William shivered. And smiled.
At 1:09 p.m., Hackman waded out of the water last, his fair skin flushed a hot pink. He was smiling, too. In fact, everyone was smiling. And grabbing for clothes.
``It was very cold,'' said Wesley R. Honaker, a 26-year-old mechanic and first-timer. ``More unnerving than anything else. It lets you know how crazy you are.''
His 8-year-old daughter, Danni Patton, agreed. ``He could've gotten pneumonia,'' she said.
``It's something I'm not looking forward to doing until next year,'' Starkey said, standing on a towel and pulling on sweats.
``I think it's the most ridiculous show of testosterone I've ever seen,'' said his laughing wife, Andie Starkey. ``They're not satisfied with bungee jumping and car racing - they've got to do this.''
``You couldn't do this alone, though,'' Barker said. ``You'd be, `Nah! It's not worth it.' ''
Some passed around a bottle of champagne and chatted briefly before heading off for hot showers and hotter drinks.
The Narrows stayed behind.
Cold. Wet and cold. ILLUSTRATION: Color photos BILL TIERNAN photos/The Virginian-Pilot
Todd Starkey, left, of Virginia Beach makes his first New Year's
Day dip Wednesday morning at The Narrows off First Landing/Seashore
State Park. In the middle of the photo is Gerald Hackman, the
organizer of this traditional wintertime plunge in Virginia Beach
for the past 13 years.
Brent L. Barker, right, congratulates his friend Rick Shafer, who
made his first New Year's Day swim with the Polar Bear Club at The
Narrows where Broad Bay and Linkhorn Bay meet. Barker is a veteran
of the chilly outing, this being his second year. Here they are
emerging from the very cold water after their invigorating
experience.