So my dad decided to hop from iceberg to iceberg with his friend until they reached the nearest village two miles away. Hop after hop, they made their way across the ice floe. As the lights of the village and the shoreline grew nearer, they grew colder and began to pick up the pace. Alas, in their hurry, they accidentally hopped together onto one small iceberg...
It broke under their combined weight, plunging them into the icy salt water where they quickly sobered up. After thrashing about in the ch-ch-chilly water for several interminable minutes, they managed to climb onto another iceberg, and carefully hopped the rest of the way to shore. The men limped into the village, where they were admitted to the hospital with hypothermia and a touch of frostbite. Released little worse for the wear, to this day my Dad never goes into the ocean.
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Reference: Personal Account, Tucker Worrall