Editor’s note: Nearly a decade ago, we put our own twist on the poem “A Visit From St. Nicholas,” a.k.a. “The Night Before Christmas.” Naturally, it involved Santa landing on a yacht, rather than a rooftop. We called it “The Night Before Christmas, Superyacht Style.” It was so popular when we posted it all those years ago that it is now an annual tradition. If you are not yet familiar with our version, we hope you enjoy it. Whether you are a first-time reader or a longtime one, we encourage you to share “The Night Before Christmas, Superyacht Style” with your superyacht-loving family and friends.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the decks
Not a crewmember was moving, not even their necks;
The stockings were hung by the transom with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The guests were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of superyachts danced in their heads;
And the chief stew in her ‘kerchief, and the captain in his cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the water there arose such a clatter,
The captain sprang from his berth to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the blinds and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-moisted sand,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects at hand,
When what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
The captain knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than dolphins his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the mast! to the top of the seawall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up past the crow’s nest the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, the captain heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As the captain drew in his head, and was turning around,
Through the aft-deck doors St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in beachwear, from his head to his foot,
Underwater exhaust prevented dirtying with soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler 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 the captain laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave the captain to know he had nothing to dread;
St. Nick 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, off the swim platform he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But the captain heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
P.S.: Since news never takes a holiday, we’ll be publishing as usual all during this holiday week. Check back daily for the latest.