If you heard shrieks drifting across the morning air on the 1st of January, don’t be alarmed—they weren’t signs of coastal peril or a dispute over the last pain au chocolat at The Bookish Barista. It was simply Welston’s tenth annual New Year’s Day Dip, held—as tradition and stubbornness dictate—in the pebbled cove half a mile east of town.

“Pebbled,” by the way, remains optimistic. The cove is less ‘picturesque beachfront’ and more ‘medium-grade ankle hazard,’ but it does spare us from using Welston’s famous mud, which would see half the entrants stuck and fossilised until Easter.

The festivities began at 10am sharp and, thanks to the invigorating temperature of the North Sea in January, were all finished by 11. Nothing encourages punctuality like water cold enough to make a grown man re-evaluate his life choices.

Last year’s dip raised a splendid £5,000 for various charities. This year, the organisers aimed to top £6,000, and judging by the number of rattling collection buckets and faces frozen into benevolent grimaces, they may have managed it.

Participants paid £1 to take part, with every penny going to the RNLI, the volunteer lifeboat crews who’ve been rescuing the unwary, the unlucky, and the overconfident since 1824. Entry was free for those who arrived in fancy dress, and this year’s theme was Marvel superheroes.

For reasons known only to themselves, a remarkable number of Welston’s men turned up dressed as Wonder Woman. There was a noticeable amount of dress envy from some of the women, and several sharp remarks about unshaved legs, exposed chests, and the importance of committing properly to a costume.

Lanston Swimming Club once again served as lifeguards and did so with their usual competence and cheerfulness—an unnerving combination when one is standing knee-deep in surf cold enough to stun a haddock.

To revive the brave and the foolish, The Bookish Barista provided free hot chocolate and Horlicks. Both were gratefully accepted, though one dipper was overheard declaring that he’d rather face the sea again than another mug of Horlicks. (He drank it anyway. We all do in the end.)

Another year, another successful dip: £6,000 (we hope), a cove full of shivering heroes, and the warm reassurance that Welston’s generosity is as hardy as its residents.

Here’s to next year. And no, before anyone asks, I’m still not be getting in the water. Besides, I’ll get my notebook soggy!