The Night Before Kayak Christmas
Southwind's adaptation of an old kayaker's verse
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the boathouse
Not a creature was stirring, not even a sea louse.
The sea socks were hung on the trailer with care,
In hopes that Saint Neptune soon would be there.
Our kayaks were lashed securely in their beds
While visions of paddle floats danced in their heads.
And Mama with her Synergy and I with my Feathercraft
Were planning out '04 trips, and full of laughs.
When out in the Bay there rose such a splashing
I stood on my cockpit to see who could be thrashing.
And what should my night vision goggles define
But an oversized Umiak, towed by dolphins divine.
I wielded my binocs with a hand adept,
And knew in a moment it must be Saint Nep.
More rapid that tide rips his dolphins they raced
And he whistled and shouted and threw a big brace!
Now Tibi! Now Shelley! Now Nigel and Dyson!
On Derek! On Wayne! Don't fall behind, Franko!
To the side of the dock! To the base of the ramp!
Ride the waves! Miss the rocks! Let's make this camp!
As he cracked with a bull kelp, they swam even more.
They first beached the boat, then tugged it further on shore.
And although they'd resent the name, I'm afraid,
It was a seal landing, those dolphins they made.
He was dressed in a dry suit, not too hard to source.
Whre on earth did he find it? - At Southwind of course!
A dry bag of goodies he had flung on his back.
He looked like a trip guide heading down the track.
He was chubby and plump ('Twould have been an annoyancy
for an amphibious diety to lack positive bouyancy.)
his hull shape was round and fairly soft in chine,
And the beard of his chin was white with dried brine.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his chore,
And filled everyone's sea socks- and dripped on the floor.
He sprang to his Umiak and closed the hatch lids.
And giving a nod down the boat ramp he slid.
He zipped his PFD and blew his storm whistle hard
And paddled away - after grabbin a dock card.
But I heard his exclaim,'ere they did skidaddle:
"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good paddle!"
I wounder did he learn that tobogan launch from Robert?
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- Other: a little poem I recieved at a work party