Twas the Night Before Christmas - Navy Style
Photo: Bangor class minesweeper turned training vessel - HMCS Miramichi in the Alaskan glacier fields (1990s)
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship
The only creatures stirring, were the crew of the mids.
The stockings were hung on the guardrails with care,
Hoping no greenies would beat St. Nick there.
The bos’ns were nestled all snug in their racks,
With visions of mermaids swimming on their backs.
And XO in her mess kit, and CO in his cap,
Had drunk so much moosemilk they needed a nap.
When out on the deck there arose such a sound,
I sprang from my cart to take a look ‘round.
Away to the porthole I flew like a flash,
And swore at my roomie when I stumbled on gash.
The moon on the waves shone like new-fallen snow,
And it lit up the boat deck right down below.
Surprised at the sight I put down my dobbin,
For there was a mini zod, and 8 tiny dolphins.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than seagulls his dolphins they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
Now Buffer! Now, Stoker! Now, Killick and Cox’n!
On, Bogey! On, Bandit! On, Zoomie and Bloggins!
To the top of the bridge! to the top of the mast!
Now sail away! Sail away! Sail away fast!"
The decks were as slippery as a RAS in a storm,
They quickly manoeuvred like bogeys in a swarm.
So up to the bridge-top the dolphins did dash,
With the boat full of grog, St Nick tied it fast.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard up aloft
The dolphins splashing and singing, so very soft.
I ran to the bridge, what I saw was profound.
Down the side of the smoke stack, St Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed in Red Sea Rig, from his head to his ---,
And his clothes were all tiddley with medals and brass.
A bundle of gear he had brought from his dockers,
And he looked like Davy Jones, just opening his locker.
His eyes-how they sparkled! his dimples how dapper!
His cheeks were like coral, his nose like red snapper!
The Ho! Ho! Ho! from his mouth like the sound from a cave,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the waves.
His sea legs were wobbly on his way to the fo’c’sle,
Having tasted a tot from each passing vessel.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like the POs and Shellys!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old chief,
And I laughed when I saw him, in total mischief!
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, just filled all the stockings,
He did it despite the unusual lodgings.
What then did he do, just what you suppose
He gave a nod, and up the smoke stack he rose!
He sprang to his boat, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew with the speed of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Bravo Zulu to all, and to all a good-night!"
~ Debborah Anne Donnelly (2011)
This Salty Dip is my version from the original by Clement Clarke Moore (1823)
