Clad in a horned helmet, star-spangled swim trunks and furry shoulder pads, the bare-chested man with a long lavender beard of thick yarn was preparing to take the plunge — into the Atlantic Ocean on a blustery New Year’s Day.
Why? “Because I want to see if the water’s any warmer than it is in August,” the intrepid Viking said inside the friendly confines of the heated hotel bar at the Brunswick in Old Orchard Beach.
More than 300 miles from his home in upstate New York, Michael Fried was among 451 weather warriors who braved frigid temperatures — with air at 22 degrees and water at 42 degrees — in the York County resort town to help raise funds for Special Olympics Maine in an annual Lobster Dip tradition that goes back 37 years.
While Fried is a repeat dipper, he had to wait a year to debut his Viking outfit after last year’s last-minute cancellation due to a storm and dangerous conditions. When learning of the water temperature a half hour before diving in, his judgment was: “Perfect.”
This year’s Lobster Dip raised more than $168,000 for Special Olympics Maine, a South Portland-based nonprofit that supports sports, health and leadership programs for more than 5,000 adults and children statewide with intellectual disabilities. The group employs nine full-time staffers.
“This is a great way to just kick off the year for us,” Ian Frank, the group’s president and CEO, said as spectators and supporters staked their spots on the beach. One group assembled by a big blue and yellow Masonic flag.
“A lot of people come out to support our athletes, which is really what it’s all about — not to mention a great celebration,” Frank said.
With donations open for another two weeks, Fried said he’s optimistic of reaching this year’s $200,000 goal, though it “will be a stretch.”
Dips were organized in two waves, one at 10:30 a.m. and the second at noon.
The sky, briefly sunny and blue earlier that morning, turned to several shades of gray by the time of the first plunge as thin flurries swirled through the icy air. One first-timer wrapped a thick scarf around her daughter as she removed her own jacket for the grand event.
Ceremonial first dipper
First into the water was Rocco Frenzilli, a retired teacher and sports coach from Falmouth who helped found the tradition with the Portland Rugby Club at the city’s East End Beach in 1989.
Donning a bright red lobster outfit before and after the plunge, he wore only swim trunks for a speedy in-and-out before many others reached the ocean.
“Today’s going to be good because there’s not going to be too many feet that I have to run down before I dive in,” he said earlier inside the hotel. “If I can just get myself up and out of the water, it’ll be a good day.”
Minutes before showtime, the beach resembled a surreal Arctic party zone as tunes from “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire to “Let’s Get It Started” by the Black Eyed Peas blared over the speakers.
While many were in costume — from an evil-looking masked clown to a white-wigged Cindy Lou-Who straight out of Whoville in Dr. Seuss’s “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” — others were in simple bathing attire. There was even a bearded Santa Claus lookalike in a red hat.
Jim and Crystal Coady, a married couple from Lewiston, were garbed as the all-green Incredible Hulk (a dead-ringer for actor Lou Ferrigno in the vintage TV series) and Wonder Woman as part of a colorful squad of superheroes.
“Energized and excited” for her first such experience, Crystal Coady said that “I’ve wanted to do a dip for a couple of years.”
‘Can’t feel my fingers’
After the first divers emerged, it was all systems go for the rest of the crowd on the count of 5-4-3-2-1.
Like mad masqueraders in a surrealist seascape by Belgian painter James Ensor, they ran in and out of the water in under 60 seconds, some doing no more than a timid mini-splash while others dunked under.
One man, laughing about his “free double dip,” dodged a puddle on the way out. A fellow dipper wryly remarked that compared to the air, the ocean was “lovely.”
Ruddy-faced and shivering, dippers rushed into the arms of family members with towels and jackets at the ready, putting sandy feet back into sandals and boots before heading back to the hotel and local watering hole Jimmy the Greek’s to celebrate. Some left with damp hair, while others sang the praises of heated car seats.
“I can’t feel my fingers,” Paul Gilmour remarked as he joined the mass exodus, crossing paths with early arrivals for the next round.
The Old Orchard resident, a retiree who goes by the name “Happy,” said he took part to honor the memory of his late wife and a promise to himself to keep living.
Will he be back next year?
“Of course,” he replied.
