’twas the Sunday before Christmas, and all across the bay
not a sea-creature was stirring, not even jellyfish. Hey?
The boats were all stacked in the boat yard with care,
In the hopes that some sailors soon would be there.
The children were wrestling Optis out of the sheds,
while visions of water fights danced in their heads
with Pete in his DTs and Zane his wet suit,
and Jack searching ’round for his gloves in the boot.
When out on the bay there arose such a clatter,
they all sprang from the club to see what was the matter.
Away to the beach they all flew like a stone,
cursing all of the way ’bout the boots left at home.
The sun sitting high in the Australian sky
caused a reflection of light on a wave passing by.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight S* Box reindeer.
With a fat, old fart driver, not so lively or quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than dolphins his Lasers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now, Finnesse! now, Chewie! now, Sheepish and Loose Canon!
On, Captain Obvious! on, Old, on, on Bumblebee and Sun Uva Gun!
Under the Ted Smout bridge and avoid the groin wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
So up to the beach the S* Boxes they flew,
With the sleigh full of goodies, and Saint Nicholas too.
As sailors watched on with their jaws on the ground,
Ashore did Saint Nicholas come with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toe
Which in Redcliffe? in summer? Showed he’s not in the know.
A bundle of something he had flung on his back,
and the children all wondered, “what’s he got in the sack?”
His eyes they were bloodshot, his cheeks were sunburnt.
A day in the sun was a lesson not learnt.
His smart little mouth was behaving itself,
with lessons on etiquette learnt from an elf.
The stump of his pipe was nowhere to be seen,
with Occ Health and safety on this idea not keen.
He had kind smile and an oversized belly,
like it was made out of fish of the species jelly.
He spoke many a word, and went straight to his work.
He shared out his treats, then turned with a jerk,
He had to be going, having seen each son and daughter,
so he picked up his bag and ran back to the water.
He sprang back on his RIB, to his fleet gave a sign,
raised a flag, blew a horn, his crew threw the line.
But we heard his exclaim before he was gone,
“Merry Christmas to all who sail Humpybong!”
See you at Humpybong Yacht Club this Sunday, 11 December 2015 for Tackers fleet, Santa and Racing.