Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas The Night Before Christmas.

“Twas the night before Christmas, living on our boat
After 793 days in the boatyard we’re finally afloat.
We rebuilt her for two years with care,
With dreams of Mexico, soon we’ll be there.

The dogs were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of doggy treats danced in their heads.
And she in her warmies, and I in my cap,
Safe in our slip for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the deck there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the berth to see what was the matter.
the boat swayed and danced in the chop,
the halyards slapping at our mast top.

The wind driven snow lashed at our deck
I climbed out the hatch our first winter storm was here.

Slipping and sliding I climbed to the mast,
Tightened all the halyards, quiet at last.
I climbed back below to my warm glowing cabin,
The kettle whistled, the time had come,
for Christmas cookies and hot buttered rum.

Our tiny home was warm and dry
I peered out the porthole and stared at the sky
I heard a whisper and felt a warm tug,
Its our first Christmas afloat she said with a hug.

We snuggled in our bunk and talked of warm beaches.  Of sailing around on perfect broad reaches.

Of all the things we would do and places to see.

 Soon our little home would be out at sea.

South till the butter melts then turn right.
The South Pacific what a wonderful sight.
Tonga, Fiji, and Vanuatu
The Solomon Islands then Nauru.

Downhill with wind at our backs.
We’ll follow the sun and never look back.
What a wonderful dream, soon it will be.
A whole new life out on the sea.

We talked and laughed till late in the night.
Our boat might be small but everything’s right.
Dreaming and scheming about taking flight.
Till the sandman came and took us away.

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

From the log of Roo 2009




About Sailing Zoot Allures

A demoralized mechanical engineer/ bass player/ sound engineer/editor seeks Freedom
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2 Responses to Twas The Night Before Christmas

  1. Merry Christmas Pete.
    I’m not much of a Christmas person, but I asked Santa for less wind and waves. It’s blowing a storm here – gusts to nearly 50 kt today and waves to 8 m tomorrow or so.


    • Whow, 8 meters. Sound like Santa got blown off the sleigh and being a big guy…….. high tide!
      Since I’m trying to be minimalistic/ non materialistic, I asked for the smallest ever receding hair line… but since he’s mob… fat chance!
      Good luck with that stink (wind)
      Have a merry one


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