On a recent January morning at sunrise, ten women clamber up and over a snowbank near the ferry dock at Cousins Island in Yarmouth to a small beach below. Some offer a helping hand to those behind them.
At zero degrees, it's especially cold, so the women wear coats — but not for long. They ditch them on the beach and are left standing in swimsuits. The only signs left that it's winter are their knit pom pom hats and their neoprene mittens and boots. They face the water and summon their courage.
"Come on! Let's go together!" they shout.
The women wade in up to their chests and form a cluster.
"Oh my God! There's ice!" says one dipper.
In the summer, the water temperature in Casco Bay can reach the mid-60s. Today, it's 39.
During the long, cold, dark winters in Maine, it can help to have a reason to get out of bed. Maybe it's a warm cup of coffee, a hot shower, or a cozy fire in the woodstove. But this group of women in southern Maine has a different incentive each week: plunging into the ice cold waters of Casco Bay. They're one of several groups across the state who embrace the centuries old-ritual of cold-dipping.
"I never thought I could do this," says Debbie Woodbury. "I didn't even swim in August, like for me, the water's too cold."
But Woodbury has been cold dipping for two years, in part because of the way it makes her feel afterwards. Fellow dipper Rosie O'Donnell says the sensations become hard to resist.
It's "euphoric," says O'Donnell. "You feel so good after, it's crazy. You get these, like, electrical shocks through you."
And O'Donnell has figured out how to make that feeling last for hours.
"I used to shower after, and now I don't, because you get this, these warm like pulses through you that are so fun and happy making," she giggles.
O'Donnell formed this group after a friend convinced her to take a winter dip five years ago. That single dip turned into a monthly dip. Then weekly. And other women started to take notice.
"We call it cold curious," O'Donnell says.
Now they're a group that ranges in age from their 40s to their 70s. While the number who shows up each week fluctuates — as does the location — the dip is always a go, despite wind, ice, and snow.
But even die-hard dippers like Betsy Parker admit that she still faces doubt after doing this for years.
"When I was walking down, I actually felt a little bit of like, 'Oh my God, we're going in this,'" says Parker.
That's where the magic and the momentum of the group comes in, she says.
"When we talk about it, we don't say, 'I can do it.' We all look at each other and say, 'We can do it,'" says Parker. "It's a big 'we.'"
"It reminds me, like, it is always worse in my head, and I never regret it," says Jill Sady.
So much so that Sady now dips every day.
"To start your day this way is like, work might be hard today, but it's probably not going to be harder than that," she says.
"It's beautiful! It's warm! It's just like Mexico, right?" the dippers try to convince themselves as they wave their mittened hands above the water to try generate warmth.
They stay in the water for nearly two minutes, until one plunger makes the call.
"Out!"
"This is the good part!" another says.
Cold dipping enthusiasts say it reduces stress and boosts immunity. But research is limited and medical organizations caution that people with a heart condition, high blood pressure or diabetes should check with a doctor before immersing in icy water.
What drives these women is the camaraderie. It's about embracing the beauty of Maine in all seasons. And, says Debbie Woodbury, their own potential.
"I do think it's changed me," she says. "I just think I'm much more willing to take a chance. Because you can do it, and it doesn't last forever. You know, if I can do this, I can try other things."
