‘Twas the night before Christmas and on board Picton Castle
Not a trainee was stirring, all was quiet in the forecastle
The stockings were hung by the scuttle with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there;
The off-watch were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of short splices danced in their heads;
And Tammy in her sarong, and I, also in my sarong,
Had just settled our brains for a long evening’s nap,
When out on the quarterdeck there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bunk to see what was the matter.
Away to the bulkhead I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains and threw open the dog latch.
The moon through the rigging up in the air,
Gave a lustre of midday to the hatch cover out there,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature monomoy and eight tiny oarsmen,
With a little old coxswain so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
Faster than trainees, they tossed oars, alongside they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Chief Mate! now, Purser! now carpenter and Bosun!
On, Second Mate! on, Sailmaker! on, Riggers and seamen!
Hands to the boat falls! Hands to stern and to bow lines!
Now haul away! Haul away! Haul away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the davits the long boat did fly
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I saw in the rigging,
That boatful of crew members playing and frigging.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the mainstay St. Nicholas slid with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his feets,
And his clothes were all tarnished with pine tar and grease;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the port shrouds he rose;
He sprang to the long boat, the crew eased away,
And down the boat flew and got underway.
But I heard him exclaim, ere they rowed out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Revised by World Voyage 7 crew member Anne, of New York
From: Bali, Indonesia
Towards: Rodrigues
Date: Monday December 24th, 2018
Noon Position: 14°29.1’S x 089°23.4’E
Course + Speed: W + 4.9 kts
Wind direction + Force: S + 2-3
Swell Height + Direction: 1-2m + S-SE
Weather: Sunny
Day’s Run: 117.6 nm
Passage Log: 1833.8 nm
Distance to Port: 1520 nm
Voyage: 15609.6 nm
Sails Set: All sails including stuns’ls