When I was a kid, my family spent a few weekends a year at a beach community 90 minutes away from home, called Pajaro Dunes. Sometimes my brother and I would each get to bring a friend.
Northern California beaches aren’t particularly warm — this is not Baywatch land — but we were fearless. One weekend, my friend Julie and I romped in the waves for so long (probably pretending to be Charlie’s Angels) that we could not get warm again. Even after a hot bath we sat shivering in a pool of sunlight through the living room window.
My dad said we had the early stages of hypothermia, which sounded so exotically dramatic, it sort of made up for our pain.
I’ve gotten more cautious in my old age. No Polar Bear here! I’ll take a warm water ocean any day, though.