I recently took the half-hour trip across Brooklyn to visit Coney Island. Over sprawling neighbourhoods and cemeteries the F train rattled until it reached its final destination, a platform suspended on stilts with the sound of gulls and sniff of sea air. To the beach I walked, along quiet streets, packed away for the Winter months, past empty markets, fairgrounds and beer gardens, till I hit the boardwalk, the wooden arc and beating heart of Coney Island. To my surprise, there in front of me, gathered on the boards was a small group of smiling, half-naked men, clad in rubber and tattoos, leaving very little to the imagination. Before I knew it a man strode up to me and proudly introduced himself. He was Tom, a robust and wind-whipped man in his mid-fifties – and proud treasurer and former president of The Polar Bear Club of Coney Island. I was then met with the beaming smile of Capri, the one lady in the group, a wonderfully happy and healthy lady who reminded me of my Aunt Helena.

The Coney Island Polar Bear Club was founded in 1903 by the “Father of Physical Culture”, Bernarr Macfadden and is the oldest winter bathing organization in the United States. The idea is simple – to have fun with friends, meet new people, improve your health and freeze your nuts off in the process. Every weekend from November to April bathers from all corners of New York gather at Coney Island to paddle and swim in the freezing Atlantic waters (10 minutes is recommended).

So off we all trotted down to the beach and from the water’s edge I watched them tiptoe into the water, followed by shrieks of laughter. “That will never change,” Tom said, “I haven’t missed a weekend here for 17 years and the cold still catches me by surprise.” As the Polar Bears bathed I took the time to scan the beachfront – to the left, the iconic red Parachute Jump tower, rows of deserted snack shops, to the right the rickety old Cyclone rollercoaster (no sign of the Thunderbolt and Alvie Singer’s house beneath), and the dismantled Astroland Park. Once the largest amusement area in the United States, now a windswept, desolate place.

A few moments later out the Polar Bears waddled contentedly. “This is the cleanest the water has been here in years” Tom exclaimed in upbeat mood. “You should come join us tomorrow at the Aquarium”, added a man head to toe in Arabic tattoos, “a hundred bathers will be there – oh, and at New Year’s as well. Hopefully it will be snowing…”

After a photo call and further laughter, I returned to the boardwalk and bid farewell to the team. What a funny moment. There is still life at Coney Island after all.