Well, it happened.
New Year's Day dawned, cold and windy, with a distinct Arctic-cum-Siberian chill to the air. I've checked the Met Office report and the air temperature in our wee region was around 2.5 - 3 degrees; I couldn't find a figure for the wind chill factor, but you'll just need to trust me that it was considerable if you were wandering around Kingsand and Cawsand in a pair of speedos and a Tee-shirt.We began with registration at Kingsand Community Hall (scene of so many legendary appearances by our adopted Peninsula-ites, Gigspanner) where Mrs The Millbrooker and I met up with The Sump who was also dipping solo this year as his usual team mates are spread across the globe at the moment. Here's the pair of us awaiting the call to parade through the wintry streets of the twin villages.
The call came soon enough (a bit too soon as it turned out - more of which anon) and off we trogged with lots of other raving idiots intent on throwing ourselves headlong into the sea. This lot sang the theme to The Dambusters incessantly during the parade - anyone would think they were happy:
There were several stops en-route to The Bound during which Mrs The Millbrooker attempted to keep yours truly from too much cold-damage. We'd set off from the hall about ten minutes ahead of schedule and had to slow up to try and avoid getting to the beach before the advertised plunge time of 12:30.
Despite the organisers' best efforts we did arrive on the beach and faced the stiffening and icy breeze quite a few minutes ahead of schedule; we stood stoically and listened to the prize-winners' announcements with nipples hardening rapidly into chapel-hat-pegs (as some Grannies were known to say). The young lady's shiverful expression at the front right of this photo gives some impression of the atmospheric conditions.
After what seemed an age (but was still ten minutes ahead of when we should have got wet) the countdown began 10, 9, 8....Go! And we went...
"Where's The Millbrooker in that shot?" I hear you cry. "I dunno" I respond. but here's the evidence of my derring do - yours truly in the moderately rough and definitely bleedin' cold water as The Sump kindly offers me a slurp from his flask:
So - there you go; I did it. Enormous thanks to everyone who made it worthwhile by donating so generously to the RP Fighting Blindness Fund. If there's anyone who's not donated yet, but would like to (pleeeease), just click on the Just Giving widget on the right - another couple of quid would be wonderful. Right - time for a slap-up at The Edgcumbe courtesy of Chris and Gwyn - cheers.
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