Arts & Entertainment Community

Two In Tow & On The Go | Our Knight In No Armor

Last week, Greg Spadoni published a poem he penned in 1982. It was so catchy and such a gem of local storytelling that it had people replying to it in rhyme on Gig Harbor Now’s Facebook page.

Readers’ online show of appreciation for his poem was joyful and nerdy and awesome. And, really, just the kind of internet we all wish we lived in more often. So when New Year’s Day delivered Tow In Tow to the 2026 Olalla Polar Plunge, complete with its crazy-cool cold water crowd, a runaway bottle, and an unexpected hero, another poem felt like the only reasonable way to tell it.

Plus, in his column, Greg said he actually hates rhyming. So, in the air of poking fun, why not carry on that practice a little longer?

Ps. if anyone recognizes our knight from the pictures, please ask him to email us at t[email protected]. I never got to tell him thanks!

Our Knight In No Armor

It’s New Year’s Day, we’re bundled tight,

Coffee in hand, it’s made just right.

We texted Greg, he’s down to go.

We’re off to the Olalla Polar Plunge show.

Photo by Tonya Strickland, 2026

The water was calm, a murky green-gray,

We joined the huge crowd gathered ’round the bay.

A motorcycle crew rumbled over the ridge.

Dozens of onlookers lined the shore to the bridge.

Photo by Tonya Strickland, 2026

It was cold, it was crowded. But the day, it was new!

And for some that meant an ice-bath swim – crazy but true!

Three! Two! One! The jumpers went wild.

Some did backflips! Each had their own style.

(Greg wandered off to the Olalla Bay Market, meanwhile …)

Photo by Tonya Strickland, 2026

Big splashes in water. It was chaos and cheer,

With anticipation we wondered if swimmers-regret was near.

But the plungers, they surfaced, hollerin’ “Holy, #@^!, this is COLD!!”

And yet most were still smilin’, both the young and the old.

Clara clapped, Wyatt whooped, we all felt the thrill.1

And, hey, all that fun with no hypothermia bill!

We stood well back. (Important to note.)

Socks and shoes on. Warm in our coats.

When Wyatt gave a thumbs-up, I thought: Aw, such a cute fella.

That is, until he nearly bopped some dude’s nose with his stupid umbrella.

“Arrrg, give me that thing,” I said in mom-voice.

I went for the handle. “Nope, nope, nope. Sorry, kid. No choice.”

I closed it and fastened it, all in a flash.

Goodbye, Mr. Umbrella. And that was that.

Until I swung that dang ‘brella down from its strap.

It wooshed past my legs, then … an inevitable WHACK.

Clara’s favorite water bottle, apparently, placed at my feet.

Set there with care. (Or so Clara would think).

With a THUNK to the concrete that bottle did roll.

I grabbed for it, failed, then heard others say, “Ohh!”

More strangers tried fast; the vessel just out of reach.

Please someone, grab it! in silent thought I beseeched.

But that bottle it tumbled, and it tumbled off quick.

Down, down, down, off the bridge. And into the watery ick.

At the surface, its peachy-white shell bobbed in place.

My response? One big “Ugh”. And then I looked at her face.

Clara was heartbroken, tears welling high.

“Don’t worry, babe, we’ll get it,” I sigh.

Fellow parents: I ask you, what’s up with this fate?

When a day with the kids is going so great.

Until the last ten minutes of said outing is near,

When something goes sideways. ALWAYS. I swear.

I was dry. I was warm. I was watching others go cray,

And not fifteen minutes later, I was in that same bay.

Except I was clothed, and in those new boots that I wore,

Scaling slippery, wet rocks down to the shore.

Dodging spiky vine brambles tug-tugging at me,

I thought, OF COURSE this would happen. Why wouldn’t it be?

Safe and unscathed we finally found a spot.

To get close to the bottle. Only to find it had drifted … a lot.

The tide pushed it onward, toward market and Sound,

A slow-moving pace, but getaway-bound.

So back up the rocks we clambered, hope on its last leg,

Then who should appear by the market but Greg?

And wouldn’t you know it, just then came a twist:

The bottle turned back! Like it changed its mind, mid-drift.

Back under the bridge it bobbed once again,

Teasing us like, Ha, you thought this would end?

Then Greg flagged a plunger, still waiting his turn,

And asked, “Hey, could you grab that bottle, once you submerge?”

(Yay, Greg! So smart. Major friendship points earned.)

Moments later, the guy plunged. Then swam out to grab it.

Clara’s hero! Let’s celebrate him some more while we’re at it.

He crossed the waterway, soon emerging, no fear.

Bottle poised like, hey I’m Excalibur here!

Photo and totally realistic design by Tonya Strickland. Graphics sourced from Canva.

The kids met him ashore. He was soaked, he was proud,

And quickly crowned a hero (in thought), by my kids and the crowd.

Our Knight In No Armor.

No cape. No shield.

Just swim trunks, good timing, and his kindness revealed.

His person with the towel is so proud. Graphics sourced from Canva.

And that’s how we started the year, you see:

With a cold plunge, a rescue, and this great community.

New year. Same chaos. Same column. Same us.

And one cold-plunging hero. No armor, no fuss.

Clara + Bottle. Together again.

We love Olalla Bay and wrote about exploring the little beach at the boat launch there in 2024. Check it out for tips on exploring there.

See ya out there!