Polar Bear Dip in Point Pleasant Park circa 1988?
I’m getting a bit excited. I got an email back from a guy named Rob.
Nico,
Please send in your pictures.
Yes you can advertise the site on Facebook.
We had 2 young pipers last year, they have agreed to do it again.
Hope to see you at the jump !
rob
In a few weeks I will be voluntarily throwing myself off a wharf into the frozen ocean on New Years Day, this is called the Polar Bear Dip. This will be my forth time in Halifax, and correctly my 6th consecutive “Christmas-New years day” swim (although Mozambique 07, Zanzibar 08 swims may not fall into polar feats).
My first did not work so well. Somehow I convinced a girl interest that I would come pick her up, we would travel to Williams Lake, and go for swim. Once we got there, I realized the lake was what one might call frozen and we needed to cut through to go for the dip. This was near Christmas as I recall of 2004, but I still wanted to attend my first official jump. New years morning, “fresh” was not the word of choice, I told my parents I was going to the jump, I just didn’t know where it was or what time. In a semi conscious state, I heard my parents calling local radio stations Q104, C100 and CKDU to ask where the jump was. They didn’t know. I fell back asleep with no regrets.
The following year future polar alumni Nick Campbell was ready for the jump. We arrived at the jump spot with no one to be found. The humming organs etched through the ice cubed air, bagpipes. Nick and I were not officially locals to the Herring Cove old fishing village outside of Halifax, and we had no idea about the opening ceremonies. First- The Pre Jump Pump: Local guys shotgunnin brewskies faster than I knew possible. Second is the parade of bath robed men and small children lead by token bag piper with kilt. Oh the Maritimes. And number three- robes off, I jumped. Actually, I did a front flip. The following day I was quoted in the local paper “Nico Koenig, first time jumper, says it’s the best way to cure a hangover”. Nick was also quoted in rival paper. As my father is an clinical therapist focusing on alcoholism, I do not remember him boasting about the review to his colleagues.
herring cove wharf, halifax
After reading the email from Rob, I passed on a message to freelance writer Holly Gordon and told her she should look into writing an article on the history and cultural significance of the event. She suggested it to her publisher, and also said I could do it myself. Well, I will try if hers does not take off. Here is a short completely unreferenced, possibly made up, and strictly googled history and origin of the polar swim.
While it may be the 15th annual polar bear dip in Herring Cove Halifax, we, the polar lineage, have been doing this kind of thing for just about as long as humans learned to jump, swim and make fire. It is of course the logical next step in our evolution. Winter swimming has been part of Scandanavian tradition for hundreds of years. It is related to the use of saunas, where by people went into cabin huddled around hot coals and chilled out. One day local Scandinavian Johann Schmoe decided to mix it up a bit by making a hole in the ice, jumping in and going back to the sauna. It is thought that having the body adjust to extreme differences in temperature has some healing effects.
Along with the healing effects, there also seems to a history of dousing with cold water related to religious tradition as a means to purify the body and soul from a year worth of sins. This can be found in Christian religions, in Russian for example as a ritual to mark the feast of the Baptism of Our Lord. While in South Africa, I was told that by a friend that “black people don’t like water” – except new years day – where thousands will go to the coast to go in the water. Of course here it is summer, and the water temperature non life threatening. I was told that the reason was that it is somehow linked to the peoples Christian belief related to cleansing.
In the mid 1800s European immigrants came to America, including my own Hungarian great great grandpolar bears. The northern European traditions of winter swimming tagged along bringing with the first winter swimming clubs in Boston and New York. Stories of the great American iced swim stretch back to 1865 in Boston at the L-Street Bathhouse, - however it was not recognized until 40 years later where it took its first official new years day swim in the Boston Harbour in 1904. Officially the Coney Island Polar Bear club beat that date as it was founded in 1903 by “The Father of Physical Culture” Bernarr Macfadden (1868-1955). I would say he looks like me, atleast he has a similar inspirational nose.
the L-Street Bath house, south bostom, early 1900s
A previous New York polar bear president jokes that that the club was founded and then the members “sat around drinking and asking what they should do until two years later when someone said, ‘Why don’t we go for a swim?’”. This joke became a calling for future generations.
Is this how it works? A tradition starts in US and then takes in Canada? What ever the case, the first polar bear swim in Canada started by one of Vancouveres first Greek immigrants Peter Pantages. He started Vancouvers New Year’s Day Polar Bear Swim, and the Swim Club in 1920 out of the English Bay with 10 people and today entertains thousands. How and by whom it started in Halifax remains a mystery. Holly Gordon, as a real journalist, went off to the library today and speak to the current organizer Rob to find the details, but here is what I can figure out so far.
The Halifax polar bear swim was originally set in Black rock beach in Point pleasant park. It was an ideal location in downtown for hundreds to go for the plunge with a big enough site to run into the water and plenty of parking space. Judging by the picture shown on top - I will take a guess and say it may have began in Halifax in the mid to late 80s. The amount of chest hair, thick mustaches and lack of bathing suits correlates pretty well with time. The joy of the 80s park plunge was ruined by the increasing Halifax sewage – forcing dippers to find a place to swim that would not cause some kind of mutation. My favorite article concerning this describes how Arnie Ross in 2001 ran away from the cops straight into the bacteria filled ocean to fulfill his ritual of polar bearing. Arnie, you sir are the Madiba of the polar bears. Down with the man! After this, it was clear a new spot was to be made – which was 10 minutes of town in Herring Cove. Apparently this is the 15th dip, but I’m not sure if that includes that black beach dives or this relates strictly to the Herring cove jumps. It is also good to know it happens it other locations just outside of town in local surf spot Lawrencetown.
There you go, the History of the Polar Bear dip as I know it. Still questions need to be answered; why people flock to the swim – the idea of cleansing by cold water to start off the day – do people believe it works? What kind of people do this? Is it only for adrenaline junkies? Is the physical act of putting yourself in frigid water and warming up again helpful to your immune system, and how does it work exactly? What does the increasing interest in the jump say about us?
Thinking of it for myself, I jump because I really do believe it wakes you up, keeps me alive in the moment. It is a chance to challenge myself in a relatively safe environment, getting over what actually seems to be irrational. It is also a time to prove that I am also very human and fragile. I love community events, seeing people together, cheering, laughing – I am about to do a masters in community development, ofcourse I dig small community run events, I eat it up. It is also one of the few western traditions I can’t be pessimistic about. And yes, finally, it is the best cure for a new years eve party hangover.
more stunning cold people around the world- Here
straight out of the water 06, i wore a full santa suit, i almost drowned it was so heavy. i lost the beard in scramble to get out. that one was for you Arnie Ross. whoever you are.
i dance in the farms of ambositra, Madagascar.
a memory. two years ago around this time I was settled in ntabethemba area and made my mind up that i would learn a xhosa song before heading off to namibia. During mginti ceremonies, where the boys go to get snip snip circumsized, while they leave their community to head to the bush and when they come back - it is filled with songs. These songs are only sung by the males and they learn many of them when they are in the mountains during circumsicion school. I met up with my buddies down the road and asked them to teach me a classic. its goes like this:
heeeeeyyy MaLahoyaaa, Heyyyyy Malahoyaaa..hey hey…..Kwathluuu Abantu malahoya hey heyy…heyyy malahoya…hey malahoya…kwathlu abantu malahoya enkosi hey hey…..
With your fancy xhosa stick, and a good beat emphasized with a heavy stomp, its a very catchy song. It refers King Malahoya, who formed one of the main ancestors of the isiXhosa people. Put simply it says: Don’t let other people separate your people.
Is it nationalistic? xenophobic? or a encouraging a sense of community peace? Anti-apartheid? Pro Apartheid? One night two years ago, there was a funeral for a extended family member of my host family. All the males got together, sipping the mQhomoti and castles - and we sang Hey Malahoya all night. The next day a local guy who sang with me approached. He started talking about the whites he once worked for, africanners, the apartheid system. He then told me he had never met a white like me before. He didn’t know “we” could be like that. Hey Malahoya. Hey Malahoya.
review
where was i..last we spoke I was in the middle of running the UK IDEALS project in Mpumalanga. Since then the team took a mid term in Sabie, Kruger Park and went back to work in the small community of KaHoyi near the Mozambique border. Back to Pretoria to, as I called it, have a individual retreat - work on a massive amounts of reports for the project and ofcourse, my fav, financial reports. My final good byes to my SCORE family. Apparently its like the mafia, once in, I won’t really be able to leave. And then le trip classic - The same gal from the Congo adventures joined me for a real vacation to Madagascar, no tour company, one guide book and the french road and three weeks to use any extra money I had made.
The rainforests. Here are thick bamboo village in an area calld Ravanofana. before you enter a thick primary forest, your first thought is, this must be a hill that goes straight up. but its not, it is dense, untouched, a real mother of nature that does not grow openings to light.
The train. sometimes you hear of trains form the 1920s that still run. usually that means that th train has been refurbished somehow, but uses the same track. here is the same train, the same seats, the same toilet, that passes through remote highland villages of Madagascar. This is the view you see throughout.
It stops in small villages whos primary source of income is selling exotic fruits and beer to italian tourists. the kids make beads and hats and would approached you “woooza wooza!” . becca and i thought it was a cool slang of “whaaatsup!” - started repeated it back to the kids and they looked back confused. turns out it means white person.
kids are different here. actually it is a completly other culture with few comparisons to my southern african families. Malagash people are much more reserved, less extroverted - compared to kids who will run up to you as a foreigner and follow you everywhere, malagash kids will mostly remain silent if they see you, these few were exceptions
rice fields
traditional houses always depends on whats around it. I’ve never seen anywhere in southern africa however that has such differences in houses - cntral province you will find these red gingerbread houses in clusters on rice fields, on the east coast you will see polynesian straw frames on stilts, and by Antanarivo you can find condensed wooden apartements.
Ambositra
yes. a beach. mada is loaded with them. If you want to escape the rainforests, mountains, lemurs and vanila farms - check out ile de St. marie - a small island off the east coast north of toamasina.
Ile de st. marie used to be The hotspot for pirates - they even have their own graveyard with a memorial to the real Captain hook.
loaded with bungalows and hot shot hotels for retired french aristocrats - it is home - fishing and market in the day, taking dugout searching the reefs for fruits de merre.
Antananarivo (Tana)
The capital of madagascar is magical. as french colony, the narrow streets , rolling hills, tall thin buildings , crepes on the copple stone streets could confuse you for 19th century haute savoie france. taking a second look you see the street children, the indonesian food, asian looking people and rickshaw (pouse pouses) riddling the area - and alas you have real unique madagascar. the history behind the area tracks the growing power of the king and queens of the Merina people, as they forced any foreigners out and throw christians off their palace roofs.
becca and i learned to make friends by buying drinks. this guy hated the governement for the conspiracy of burning down the palaces. he was once a tour guide and now he had no where to tour. the governemnt i guess burnt it down to get money from UNESCO to rebuild it. smart.
Animals
those frolickin furry creatures in the movie Madagascar do exist in real madagascar - there are abot 60 kinds of them - some our tame, some will never be seen - look up The Aye Aye for the coolest looking one. and no i haven’t seen the movie yet.
toamasina, east coast colonial town loaded with pouse pouses
food - as the malagash people came over the past 2000 years from indonesian with polynesian looks and food - they brought with them Malagash rice. its no Nshima though.
interesting kinds of fruits, the nearest place to mada to find these guys is India.
UMHLANGA - reed dance
During IDEALS project with universit of birmingham students, i placed bubbles. I ofcourse knew exactly what a good idea I had, but they had to know it..it was their process. I placed a bubble infront of them to accept or forget. the bubble to take a night away from the village of Hoyi and road trip it into Swaziland to check out the Umhlanga ceremoney. they agreed, and i had to drive.
The reed ceremoney also appears in other bantu cultures, including the Zulu. It traces back perhaps 500 years where young girls across the land would come to the kings palace and actually help build it - in a way to pay homage. They brought reed straws from all across the land and placed them around his home. ofcourse these are not a few ladies, and they are special. Actually 100,000 virgin girls come by the truck loads (really big trucks) from across swaziland with reeds. Conveniently this is also the time where the King (king mswati II) choses his 13th wife. So there we were, at the kings palace in swaziland, watching as these topless virgins sang, danced and placed their reeds.
The king actually doesn’t look at everyone and say “ah ha, you look like a good wife, i’ll have you!” - the kings “people” do a whole evaluation of the local women of swaziland, make sure she “pure” - and i figure an HIV test as well - and the decision is made. the chosen wife does still dance though.
a swazi guard stands to watch
Swazi king palace
Life in kaHoyi
My Gogo. host grandmother only spoke shangani..i spoke siswati…oh the hilariousness continues. currently pitching this as an abc sitcom
My host mom in Hoyi. she was great, the family was great. I miss them.
Kruger and Sabie
my favorite. after driving striaght for 10 hours in Kruger, I stoped the van. something was blocking it. The biggest elephant we had seen all day was charging us. “GO nico GOO!” the brits complained i should race through it, i said no way. “Mandla would do it!” ah good one, use my precious ego against me. No I said again. we waited..it cant coming, reversing…reversing..it was still coming..finally it went to the side just a moment to the bushes. placing the van into 1st , to 2nd, and quickly to 3rd we raced by. way to go. i beat babar. or…he just got bored
Just an update for now….the rest, the past month, and being home. to come soon
off to this hour has 22 minutes,
Nico
