If one were to ask the eager, shivering line of participants waiting to jump into Occom Pond during this year's Polar Bear Swim why they would even consider immersing themselves in the pond's frigid waters, chances are many would answer, "It's tradition."
Maybe someone ought to tell them that the tradition justifying their icy leap is actually only nine years old, begun by a zealous member of the Class of 1998 in search of some winter fun.
Rachel Gilliar '98 planned the first known Polar Bear Swim event as a freshman, and admitted that during the first year, "We did a lot of things that were breaking the rules."
At this first clandestine swim, no Safety and Security officers were present, and the event was not sanctioned by the College. Even the chainsaw used to break the ice was used without permission.
"I did have a rope attached to people, but in terms of any [safety precautions] the College would expect, they were not there," Gilliar told The Dartmouth.
Four years later, though, the event had developed a high profile. For the first 200 participants in the 1998 Swim, home and garden guru Martha Stewart donated commemorative polar bear buttons and towels in the shade of Dartmouth Green.
Today's Polar Bear Swim is a highly controlled and regulated event, according to E.J. Kiefer at the College's Public Programs office. Safety and Security officers and emergency medical personnel are on hand for assistance in case anything goes wrong.
The rope that is tied around participants is a safety precaution, he said, in case someone reacts badly to the bitterly cold water.
"Each participant has to tie on a rope so that they don't disappear," Kiefer said. "You never know if they will go into shock or get under the ice."
If a person surfaces under the ice, they can be unable to get out, he said, and the rope allows for them to be towed to safety. Future Polar Bear swimmers shouldn't be too deterred, though -- Kiefer does not know of any actual incidents where someone has become trapped under the ice or where someone has gone into shock.
Another concern for the College is the thickness of the ice over Occom Pond, since participants and supervisors must walk on it during the event.
"They test the ice each day, and it has to be at least seven and a half to eight inches thick," Kiefer said. "It is thick enough now to drive a truck on."
There have been known incidents of individuals becoming involuntary Polar Bear swimmers due to thin ice. Gilliar's father suddenly found himself knee deep in water when a piece of ice broke under him, and Marc Resteghini '99 beat the line of participants into the pond when they unexpectedly plunged in.
"All of a sudden, I turned around and my parents were up to their shoulders in ice," Resteghini told The Dartmouth, noting that his parents were rescued by a stranger who helped to pull them out.
Today's participants have a little more protection.
"We put down carpeting to keep them from slipping on the ice," Kiefer said.
This year, for those eager to test their bravery against the cold, the Polar Bear Swim will be today at noon, a continuation of Gilliar's legacy.
"I think that at Dartmouth, building a tradition takes four years," Gilliar said. "By the fourth year [1998], I heard people say, 'Oh, you have to do it -- it's a tradition.'"
