Cold comfort

It's a bitterly cold midwinter afternoon, the kind of chill that gnaws at gloved fingers and stiffens joints into rusty hinges.

Hampton Beach's strip is dark and unfriendly, the kitschy boutiques and noisy arcades boarded up or locked with metal gates. A few lingering signs tease of summer's greasy indulgences: Fried dough, sausage with pepper and onion, and brick-oven pizza by the slice.

On the beach it's quiet, save for the occasional passing car and steady crash of white-capped waves. And, except for the handful of wanderers dotting the frozen sand or the seagulls flitting in and out of the surf, it's empty.

A wasteland to some, maybe -- but a retreat for others.

''People say, 'You go to the beach in the winter?' " said Ellen Fortgang of central New Hampshire as she walked the shoreline recently with a friend, Dick Clarke. ''It gives you the ambience of the beach when it's not noisy and crowded."

For Hampton Beach, warm weather is like water in the Badlands. When it's plentiful, the area teems with a riot of life. When it's scarce, so are the people. Still, the beach is never completely deserted, even on the chilliest days.

In fact, a good number of folks -- albeit not as many as Hampton town officials and oceanfront businesses would like -- gravitate to the shores in the offseason. On any winter day, a dozen or more hardy souls can be seen walking along the water's edge, jogging, riding horses, collecting sea-smoothed rocks or shells, and climbing over dunes.

Many are ocean lovers, people who find calm along the snow-covered sand. For them, the winter is a time to enjoy the beach when it's just a beach, and not crawling with bronze sun-seekers, screaming children, or hordes of rowdy teenagers.

''There is a certain romantic allure of winter beaches," said Stephanie Abrams, a nationally syndicated radio travel show host. ''To see snow on a beach is like standing on the moon. It brings out the poet in people who aren't poets."

Winter visitors don't have to park a half-mile away or sift through pocket change to feed the meters, enforced from May to October. Animal lovers can bring their pets, a practice forbidden by town ordinance in summer months.

What's more, there's no honky-tonk, no shoulder-to-shoulder crowds. On peak summer days, Hampton Beach can attract 200,000, according to Doc Noel, president of the Hampton Area Chamber of Commerce.

''We wouldn't be caught dead here in the summer," said Caroline Sheehan, of upstate New Hampshire, as she strolled the coastline recently with friends.

Pauline English, a Hampton local, agreed that the public beach can be too much to handle in the muggy summer months. She stays away when the place is crawling, she said, and considers the winter her only time to enjoy the seashore.

''There's nobody around," she said. ''It's the time of year when local people get to enjoy the beach. In the off months, it's for us."

And anyone else willing to brave the sometimes arctic conditions.

Even in this winter's tamer temperatures, powerful gusts can penetrate and chap exposed skin, ruining plans for a lengthy beachside outing. Pennsylvanian Walt Yarima, for instance, couldn't dawdle for more than 10 minutes when he visited Hampton on his way back from a day trip to Rochester, N.H., with friends. It was just too cold.

Still, it was worth the 30-minute detour, he said, because it's not often he gets to see the ocean. His home in the Keystone State is roughly 100 miles from the coast.

''You can't be this close and not come," he said as he glanced around the vacant beach, rubbing his hands together to keep the blood moving.

Kathy Carr, accompanying Yarima with Albert Viselli, shielded and squinted her eyes as she looked out on the water. ''It's different in the wintertime," she said. ''If you can get past the cold, the peaceful calm is nice."

Nearby, seagulls hunkered in the sand next to abandoned lobster traps, eyeing passing humans with aggressive, hungry looks. Others sat on the water, white dots bobbing with the waves.

Suddenly, Carr pointed to a dark spot on the water.

''That's a school of dolphins!" she exclaimed. ''Look at all of them! Can you see them?"

Huddling in the 20-degree cold, they watched the dark mass move across the shore for another two or three minutes. Then, cheeks wind-chapped and fingers numb, the trio scurried back to their car.

Hardier visitors lingered longer in the frosty weather.

Ed Chaput of Nottingham, N.H., spent part of an afternoon sweeping the wet sand at the water's edge with his metal detector. Bundled up and dressed in wader boots, he said it's worth braving the crisp temperatures, as he's more likely to find the jewelry, rings, and coins he seeks. That's because winter storms and bigger waves dredge up more goodies, he said.

''It tends to drag a lot of the sand out and you can dig deeper," he said.

Oceanfront businesses wish they could say the same. Winter wanderers aside, it's long been a struggle to attract the general population to the snowy beach, they said -- even if the winter is uncharacteristically mild. The only time there is a notable crowd in the offseason is during the annual Penguin Plunge, when pledgers run, en masse, into the chilly sea to raise money for the Special Olympics of New Hampshire. That fund-raiser, which usually draws upward of 500 people, was held this past weekend.

''People think it's closed down," said Kathy Marceau, marketing assistant for the Ashworth by the Sea hotel, a seafront fixture for nearly 100 years. ''I don't know what we can do to get them down here."

The Ashworth has about a 50 percent occupancy rate this time of year, Marceau said. Most of that business is on weekends, though the hotel does get the occasional midweek business traveler. That's a big drop from the summer months, when the hotel is booked solid.

To lure visitors, the hotel offers reduced rates and offseason packages that include inexpensive lodging and meals, Marceau said.

Restaurants such as La Bec Rouge, meanwhile, rely on local business -- and loyal customers -- in the quiet season. ''We have a lot of regulars, so this is the time of year we take care of them," said Tracey Dewhurst, owner of the beachfront establishment.

Eight to 10 other restaurants and hotels stay open year-round, Noel estimated -- but the chamber doesn't make a concerted effort to attract visitors to their doors. ''The beach is definitely a seasonal operation," he asserted. ''[It] obviously isn't a recreation area in the wintertime."

Nonetheless, town officials are trying to create conditions geared toward a year-round tourist trade.

James Barrington, Hampton town manager, said the community is close to finishing a $12 million infrastructure project that will allow more year-round residences, shops, and restaurants. The project includes replacing storm drains, sewer lines, and roadways along Ashworth Avenue -- which runs parallel to Ocean Boulevard, the hub of action in the summer months -- and installing new curbs and sidewalks.

The venture is slated for completion this summer, but according to the town planning office, it's already begun to have an effect: Two developments that would bring roughly 50 condominiums to the beachfront area are under review by the Planning Board.

Barrington said it's just a matter of time before the area is bustling with wintertime activity. ''It's going to create a fresh new look," he said of the master plan.

But some hope the winter beach doesn't lose its peaceful charm.

''We want people to stay away so we can have it to ourselves," said Fortgang, who makes the 60-mile trek from the Lake Winnipesaukee area at least once a winter to walk Hampton Beach.

Turning to Clarke, her friend, she said with a chuckle, ''That's not very nice, is it?"