My daughters, Sarah and Charlotte, here ages five and eight, are treasure hunting with their friend Blythe, age four.

We’re camping at Beaumont Marine Park on Pender Island, with several couples and their collective children, on Canada Day weekend, 2004. We’ve brought Charlotte and her wheelchair to the island by canoe, which is quite an undertaking.

Blythe and Sarah share their latest discovery with Charlotte, seen here on her elbows in the frigid water. Regardless of the ambient air temperature the ocean seldom warms enough to be comfortable, but kids don’t seem to feel the cold, especially when there’s treasure to discover and adventure to be had. We do have to keep a close eye on Charlotte, though. She’ll stay out there with the other kids until she’s an alarming shade of blue, if given the chance.

When I was 11, our family moved to a new house in Brentwood Bay, a small town a few miles north of Victoria, B.C., Canada, where we live now. I remember how excited my sister and I were to hear that the new house had one of those above-ground, “Coleco”-style swimming pools. The previous owner had gone to the great trouble of enclosing the pool with a roof and walls of tacky green corrugated plastic. The result, however, was to keep any possible solar warmth from the water. When we finally had the chance to partake in our new joy, we discovered that more than 10 minutes in the frigid, chlorine-laced broth inflicted a severe headache. Despite the very real risk of hypothermia, we spent as much time in the water as we could stand.

Now that I’m older, and of some better means, I’ve discovered the wonder of neoprene. I have four purpose-built outfits ... two pairs of fly-fishing waders, one kayaking sortie, and a full-body wetsuit for my latest craze, surf kayaking. And each one is worth every penny.