As the chainsaw roars and a plume of snow arcs towards my face, I have two thoughts. Firstly, I hadn’t guessed ice-sculpting would be like this, fondly having imagined myself chipping away with a hammer and chisel. My second thought is that I haven’t had so much fun for a long time.

Paul Skevington understands because that’s how he feels, too.

“I worked in IT for 25 years,” he says, explaining that he started a small barbecue-and-hog-roast hire business on the side.

Through this he acquired a walk-in freezer and, deciding to make more use of it, purchased some ice-moulds from Australia and started knocking out sculptures.

“I realised I enjoyed it but wanted to be more hands-on so I started using tools and experimenting,” he says.

His first effort was a squirrel.

“I thought it was very good so I tried a rabbit with a top hat. Unfortunately that looked like a squirrel, too!”

So he practised and learned what he could and is now the proud creator of so many designs he’s stopped putting them on his website.

He’s done ET, a Citroen 2CV, a large wellington boot, dogs and even a docksider shoe, for Southampton Boat Show.

His most popular sculpture is the James Bond 007 logo chiefly because, he says: “Most ice sculptures are used as vodka luges now and so people like to mix the vodka and James Bond in one thing.”

Horses heads, hearts; “When I started I couldn’t even draw a heart freehand, it always went a bit squiffy,” and even two torsos.

The rudest sculpture?

“Probably the little dog that was cocking his leg,” he says.

“You can guess where the client wanted the drink to come out of and this particular client substituted vodka for limoncello!”

He’s produced a sculpture for President Barack Obama, to be the centrepiece of a party on the mighty USS George HW Bush aircraft carrier, and innumerable swans and dragons.

But he’s had his disasters, too.

“I was delivering a swan to a hotel in Southampton when the wind caught the revolving door and it smashed it,” he says.

Only a few weeks ago he endured the horror of watching a Statue of Liberty’s head fall off following a similar incident although: “There are ways of sticking it back on.”

All this makes me feel slightly nervous as I am going to attempt to carve a word into a block he’s prepared earlier at his Poole home, and Paul is going to finish off the Liver Bird he’s been carving for a wedding.

“I think the groom must be a Liverpool fan,” he says.

When he brings the Liver Bird out of the freezer into the sunshine I am not prepared for how good it looks. Immediately, because of the temperature change, the ice mists over, allowing the detail of the feathers to stand out.

Paul finds the properties of ice quite absorbing.

“You have to have it at different temperatures for different things so you’ll take a block out of the machine for about five hours before you work on it, otherwise it will be too brittle and crack,” he says.

“Firstly, you do your basic shape carving and then you have to put it back into the cold before the fine detailing.”

He gets his ideas from images, spending hours in the internet just staring at pictures of champagne bottles, or stiletto shoes.

“When it’s in my mind I know how to carve it.”

I am obviously not going to be carving a Liver Bird but engraving the word ‘Echo’ on my block. After the initial chop with the chainsaw and a quick run-over with a hot iron, Paul scribbles on the letters and lets me loose with a small electric drill.

At the slightest pressure it penetrates the ice and I am mesmerised by the effect… snow forms in the groove and the word springs out. Then Paul hands me a smaller drill to add some flourishes at the base and voila! – my first ice-sculpture.

When I have finished Paul adds the eye to his Liver Bird.

“It’s amazing how a sculpture comes to life when it has its eyes,” he explains.

My block of ice is starting to melt a little now and Paul encourages me to touch the side.

“Isn’t that the most amazing sensation?” he says.

“I cannot think of a word to explain it.”

He right and to my journalistic shame, neither can I; it’s like cold, liquid silk.

As I help him manouevre the Liver Bird back into the freezer he tells me that when he does wedding shows he brings the half-melted sculptures back and puts them on his wall outside.

“You often see little children and the mums looking at them and then they touch them and seem to really like that.

“I am so lucky to be able to do something like this. It’s so enjoyable that you lose yourself in it.”

crystalicesculptures.co.uk