Brave souls rushed into the bone-chilling waters of Charlottetown Harbour. Teenagers who first piled their clothes in a mound, buff males with little butts, ladies in bikinis, a Rasta with multicoloured headgear, queen of the water with a pink tiara, gals and guys strutting tattoos, a grandmother who has done it 10 times, people in ball caps with Christmas plumpness, girls in flimsy flip-flops, swimmers in ponytails and a jester’s cap, tattoos and a Santa hat…. The mood was festive, we counted down, we cheered with gusto from the sidelines crunching our boots in the snow, clicking our cameras. After the rush in and back, the stragglers, the do-it-my-own-wayers, the “I liked that – let’s do it again” folks: two boys went in to impress the girls and one retrieved her flip-flops floating on the waves. A roaring dude tackled another and they fell into the water. A Dad took his young daughter in and carried her back. On her picnic table the gal with the tiara gave out certificates and hot beverages. The victorious chatted in beach towels and bathrobes. Pajamas were seen and bare feet. Laughter and whooping. Smiles all around. It’s not for me, I love to be warm, but I salute you, brave souls kissing the water with skin on New Year’s Day 2011.