One dip too many?

As polar plunges proliferate, organizers fear being frozen out

The shock of plunging into frigid water, which the L Street Brownies have endured and enjoyed for 105 consecutive New Year's Days, has failed to toss cold water on a toe-numbing lark that used to be relegated to the hardy or foolhardy few.

Now, some organizers wonder whether an escalating number of polar plunges will hurt fund-raising for those charities that embraced this big chill long before its popularity heated up.

Mainers scheduled at least nine plunges this winter, including three on New Year's Day and one Jan. 2. Rhode Island had at least 10 on New Year's Day. And Massachusetts, among its year-opening activities, hosted the granddaddy of them all in South Boston, plus smaller plunges in Swampscott, Bourne, and Fairhaven.

"My feeling is there are enough dippers to go around, but there may not be enough pledgers to go around," said Phil Geelhoed, president of Special Olympics Maine, which hosted its 21st annual Lobster Dip on New Year's Day in Old Orchard Beach.

The dip in 9-degree temperatures attracted more than 300 entrants, Geelhoed said, and set a new revenue record of just under $52,000 for the oldest winter plunge in Maine. The organization expanded its advertising this time to draw participants, who each raised a minimum of $100 in pledges.

On Jan. 2, a smaller crew raced, or tiptoed, into the water off East End Beach in Portland, where the Natural Resources Council of Maine held its first plunge to raise awareness and money for the fight against global warming.

Judy Berk, a spokeswoman for the council, said she did not expect any competition for swimmers, who each raised a minimum of $50.

"We expect the people who are very committed to the environment," Berk said. "Some people don't think that environmentalists like to have fun. But, obviously, we do."

Saturation, however, could pose problems as Polar Plunges proliferate, said Michael Nilsen, national spokesman for the Association of Fundraising Professionals.

"It's part of a larger trend of these offbeat fund-raising events," Nilsen said, "particularly among the younger generation, who like doing more than sending in a check."

Although registered charities in the United States have soared from 375,000 in 1986 to about 1.1 million today, Nilsen said, the souring economy will take a toll even among committed supporters.

"At some point, it's going to be too much," Nilsen said.

But Steven Biondolillo, whose Wellesley company helps nonprofits develop special fund-raising events, has a different take.

As a recession continues, Biondolillo said, events that focus on smaller pledges, such as walkathons and polar plunges, often do well because donors are apt to know someone who is suffering financial hardship.

"People in the community can actually see or feel some of the distress being experienced around them," Biondolillo said.

"To give $10 more is not that big of a deal. The bigger the amount of money, though, the more squeamish people seem to get."

Polar plunges are new enough, Biondolillo said, that the jury is out on whether expansion will dilute their fund-raising potential.

Walkathons, which attract people committed to a cause, continue to boom.

But occasionally, Biondolillo said, so-called extreme events attract participants solely because of the demanding activity. And if enough of these events are held close together, the pool of available, paying entrants can be stretched thin.

Competition was not a worry for the L Street Brownies, who used donations to benefit a South Boston scholarship fund. Joining the Brownies were more than 60 swimmers who raised money for Joey's Plunge, which benefits a Maine camp for children with life-threatening injuries and their families.

The plunge was the brainchild of Joey Cerato, 14, who created the event as a way to raise money for Camp Sunshine in Casco, Maine, where his family has volunteered. Spurred by the success of the first plunge, when Joey was 11, Camp Sunshine now benefits from eight winter swims at sites from Maine to Virginia, plus a new one this season in Seattle.

Joey, of Hudson, N.H., said he tries not to think about the impending shock until the morning of the swim.

"It's wicked cold, but it's worth it," Joey said.

That sentiment was echoed by Chris Bartorelli, 11, of Randolph, who planned to take his first plunge in South Boston on New Year's Day with 500 other daredevils.

Chris, who has attended Camp Sunshine, has an aggressive form of spinal cancer. But doctors cleared him for the dip, and Chris sounded upbeat and unafraid as he prepared.

"I'm going to run in just to get in, and get out as fast as I can," Chris said. "It'll be cold, but it'll make me feel good."

Brian MacQuarrie can be reached at b_macquarrie@globe.com.