Calvin Zaiko's Fitness Gambit Is Hypothermic

By CHRIS BURRELL

Innkeeper, guitar player and come mid-January, Calvin Zaiko would
also have to be considered something of a daredevil.

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His feat? Swimming seven days a week in the ocean waters just across
the street from his home on Seaview avenue, Oak Bluffs.

"It's like jumping into a glass of shaved ice," he
says yesterday morning after two laps in Nantucket Sound. Time in the
water totals just about 12 minutes.

But make no mistake, this week posed quite the challenge for Mr.
Zaiko, not only to his determination but also for the $400 worth of gear
he bought last fall in a bold attempt to prolong his swimming habits.

As temperatures dropped into the teens and rose no higher than the
mid-twenties, the question dogging this winter swimmer was whether three
to five millimeters of neoprene - wetsuit, hood, mitts and booties
- could truly withstand plunging into water more fit for a penguin
than a person.

Water temperature right now stands at 36 degrees, according to the
National Weather Service. But as Mr. Zaiko, 53, emerges from the ocean
yesterday, he reports proudly that his mission is accomplished. "I
think I got it beat," he says. "Seeing as how we're in
mid-January, I think I'll make it 'til I can just jump in
with my swimsuit on."

Mr. Zaiko is one of those Tisbury Inn refugees, displaced by the
2001 fire that destroyed not just the inn but also the bustling health
club that housed the Island's one and only public indoor swimming
pool.

"I used to swim at the Tisbury Inn until it burned down.
It's a bummer," he says.

He has spent the better part of the last 30 years living in this
house that looks out over the water. As a kid, he came to this house in
the summers and learned to swim on the very beach that now lies hard and
crusty under the polar wind.

Maybe it was all those winters staring out at the ocean that finally
won him over, beckoning him into the water.

"It's a shame to have this natural resource, usable for
150 days of the year, and not be able to use it for the other 200
days," he says. "You look at the ocean and say, ‘Hey,
why not go in?' "

Well, at least that's how Mr. Zaiko sees it. His family
members have their doubts. "My wife thinks I'm nuts,"
he admits. His 23-year-old son, who lives in Boston but has been
visiting for the week, just looks at his Dad in disbelief:
"You're going swimming?"

Still, Mr. Zaiko says, plenty of friends proclaim they would love to
join him on one of these Siberian excursions. "I say, ‘Okay,
see you at 9:30 in the morning,' but there's nobody
there."

Elaine Barse, owner of The Green Room, the surf and skateboard shop
in Vineyard Haven that outfitted Mr. Zaiko, says her customer is truly
in the minority.

"There's been been a lot of interest in trying to swim
in the winter," she says, "but when the reality kicks in,
you have to be really dedicated. The water is cold, and then
there's the air and the wind chill."

Most winters, there's a cadre of diehard surfers, undeterred
by 35-degree water temperatures, says Ms. Barse, but they're also
pulling on beefier wetsuits, typically six millimeters thick.

Mr. Zaiko opted for the thinner layer of neoprene to gain more upper
body flexibility. But after the investment of money and bravura, the
payoff is obvious.

"It puts a new light on the day," he says, while he
polishes off an apres-swim breakfast of poached eggs, fried potatoes and
hash at Linda Jean's Restaurant.

You can tell that Mr. Zaiko is proud of his singular achievement.
How many people can turn their faces to a bitter wind and say, "I
went swimming today in this."

The beach lies just across the street from The Beach House, the inn
that Mr. Zaiko has owned and run for the better part of the last 30
years. He inherited the house from his grandfather.

Clearly, this stretch of beach couldn't feel more familiar.
"I learned how to swim here when I was just two and a half,"
he says.

A lap for Mr. Zaiko consists of swimming between two jetties. In
summer, he'll do three turns for a total of six laps. But in
winter, the routine calls for just two laps.

He wears a mask and snorkel, limiting skin exposure to just a few
stripes and patches around his mouth and forehead. He won't swim
when the wind blows in hard from the east because the current pushes on
his hood and mask, increasing the likelihood of leaks.

Mr. Zaiko wastes no time waffling over whether to dive in. He
hustles across the road, looking like some misguided frogman who escaped
from the asylum. Once on the beach, he strides quickly into the ocean
and dives in.

"There's that little trickle of ice down your back at
first," he says. "But it warms up fast and you're
fine."

Weighing in now at 170 pounds, Mr. Zaiko actually put on 25 pounds
since making the commitment last summer to a daily swim. He clutches a
bicep just to feel the tangible proof of his added muscle mass.

"This is maintenance," he adds. "And it's
kind of an adventure."

Mr. Zaiko likes the fact that it's daring. He comes out of the
water huffing and grimacing a little as he pulls off his mask and the
ice-cold air hits his wet face.

"Even if Ann Mechur ever gets her aquatic center, I
don't know," he says. "I'm kind of hooked on
this."