Twas the night before Christmas and out on the dock
the boats were all resting unaware of the clock,
the boats were fastened to cleats with care
in hopes that come morning all would be there
The fuel docks were closed and hoses tied in their spots
with wind gusts from 240 at 39 knots
As Ma in her deck shoes and me in my shorts
had just settled down with egg nog and torts
When over the radio on channel 16 there arose such a clatter
I turned up the volume to see what's the matter
A voice clearly heard over static and blow
asked for the marina to call and give him a tow
He barked out his transmission so lively and quick
I could have sworn that the boat name he used was "St.Nick"
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Sure that it was only winter's last dash.
He called his position and there could be no denial
This is the Nicholas One and I am coming in for awhile
The dog barked a warning and I arose from my chair
to see what was the matter and happening out there
Out on the grass as wind whipped all around us
I picked up the dog and was soon astounded
What to my wondering eye did I see
A tiny tug boat and a flotilla of three
We saw them come in from the threatening sea
we dashed from our boat to help scraping my knee.
The tugs were all tied the crisis was past
when out of the pilothouse stepped the captain at last
He was a jolly old soul all dressed in red
I was sure he just wanted the head.
His pipe smoke circled his head like a fog,
I thought I might offer him some fresh egg nog
His cheeks were rosy and jiggled like jelly
his boots were black as the tug underbelly
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old fool
and he kindly informed me he needed some fuel
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his toes,
he sped off the dock his nose like a rose.
I heard him exclaim as he roared out of sight
Merry Christmas to all and keep on the nav light.
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