Plunge of the penguins

~ Reporter joins Advance Penguin Club for traditional dip into Castor River.

It's a proud tradition that only a brave few are willing to uphold. Diving into the water on New Year's Day with the Advance Penguin Club is not for the faint of heart.

"Ladies and gentleman, circumstances of stupidity have brought us once again to the banks of the mighty Castor River," intoned founding club member Derek Jackson to the 12 shivering souls gathered there.

For the last seven years, the club -- composed mainly of a group of friends from the Advance High School Class of 2000 -- have plunged into the Castor River each Jan. 1.

Monday, I was allowed to join them, but not before receiving a lesson on the club's proud history.

"We were all sitting around the house one night and it had been a wonderful night and I mentioned, 'Hey, I'm going to jump in the river tomorrow, who's with me?' It was incredibly cold that year," Jackson said.

"It was 18 degrees, minus three degrees windchill with a foot and a half of snow on the ground," added fellow Penguin Daniel Turner to set the scene.

"Wait, we never had a foot and a half of snow here," pointed out Jason Kennedy in the interest of historical accuracy.

"Hey, I'm telling the story. Every year it gets bigger. In 20 years there will be eight feet of snow, OK," Turner said.

Joined by a handful of friends, Daniel Turner braved cold temperatures for a traditional splash in the Castor River.

And so it went. The first year, a brave group of four Penguins pushed ice floes aside and went in only to come out with hearts racing and icicles dangling from their hair.

"That year was ridiculous. When you got out of the water it felt like you were being hit with needles. Every single spot on your body was in pain," said Jackson.

Debriefed, we approached the river.

2007 was not quite as daunting, but at 45 degrees Fahrenheit it was no Jacuzzi either.

By tradition, the Penguins go in one at a time in order of seniority. Also by tradition and in the interest of posterity the entire event is captured on video.

First in the water was Jason Kennedy. Using a rope swing tied to a tree on the bank he fell flailing into the abyss.

"Mother of God," were the only discernible words from the brave warrior.

Later, Kennedy offered advice on the benefits of going in via the muddy area. "The mud is actually far warmer once you get in it, because the mud retains the heat of the earth," he said.

Good to know.

Next in was Joshua Breeze, who launched off the boat ramp and came back howling to his towel.

Third in line was the founder, Jackson who, to celebrate the occasion, had a surprise in store for everyone.

"You might not want a picture of this," he advised those of us from the newspaper.

And he was right.

Jackson had obtained a pair of women's "edible underwear," which left little -- OK nothing -- to the imagination.

"Hey, they really do dissolve in water," said Jackson when he came out of the water.

"Derek, I think a little part of my soul just died," said the Penguin's official video operator, who despite noticeable discomfort was obliged to keep the camera trained on Jackson.

After four more swimmers and a lot more laughs it was my turn to go.

I thought I knew what I was in for, but as I slid down the scum-slicked boat ramp, I found the water paralyzingly cold.

Trying to salvage respectability, I dove in.

"Ahh, ice-picks, frozen ice-picks at a temperature of around absolute zero," were my only thoughts.

I came up gasping and the crowd applauded the effort. Trying to form words, I found that "Eeeeeeeh," was the only high-pitched, female-sound my larynx could come up with.

"All right," yelped the Penguins.

"Get that picture, that's the face, right there, that's the face," shouted one of the Penguins pointing at my look of combined terror and pain.

Eventually, I dried off, regained some feeling in my extremities and received encouragement from the others.

"The first year I remember I jumped in and I thought 'OK, I'm going to come out of the water and just let out this awesome yell,'" Turner said.

"Well I got out and went to do it and it came out [a high-pitched] "Ahhhhh," like this loud shriek. That's just the way it is, it's just too cold."

So how long will this New Year's tradition continue?

"When we first started, we planned on doing it once a year for 50 years. And you know what? Now, with the advances they're making in medical science, I think I might actually get there," Kennedy said.

tgreaney@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 245