Dumping Cold Water On Your Surfin’ Safari Dreams

My grandson was born and lives in southern California, where he spends as much time swimming and surfing in the Pacific as possible. It’s rare that a week goes by without at least one trip to the beaches near Los Angeles.

When he was nine, his family took a trip to Maine. At one point, they were staying in a hotel on the coast just north of Bar Harbor, and there was a small but inviting beach nearby. He asked, and his mom and dad told him to go ahead and jump in. Sans wet suit, he dashed into the water…

…where he became intimately acquainted with the branch of the Labrador Current that runs south along that part of the coast. Barely past ankle depth, he stopped and sprinted out twice as fast as he’d gone in. His parents couldn’t keep straight faces when he wailed:

Grandson: “Why do they have a beach if it’s too cold to swim?”