Holland America M/S Rotterdam -Suite 7004 and 7027

Christmas Eve Is Here

The only thing that beats Christmas Eve in the Caribbean is driving late at night in a snowstorm to the in-laws. H.N.

Twas Christmas Eve on the Rotterdam by JEM

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship,We were sipping champagne, enjoying out trip; The stockings were sitting under our minature tree, in hopes that St. Nicholas would head out to sea;

The children were nestled all snug in their bunks, while mommy and daddy unpacked all their trunks; and mamma in her eye patches, a I with night-cap, had just settled down to a well deserved nap.

When out on the deck there arose such a noise, I thought it was nothing but loud cabin boys. Away to the verandah I jumped with a flash, threw open the sliders, and hid all my cash.

The moon off  the wake glittered lovely like snow, but it was seventy-eight, not 20 below! When, waht to my wondering eyes should I see, but a salt covered sleigh, approaching our lee.

With a crusty old captain who never did pause, I know in a moment it was Mr. Clause. More rapid than hurricanes, ‘oer the islands he flew, and he whistled, and shouted, and named but a few;

“Past St. Kitts! past Jamaica! past St. Thomas and Aruba! To Nassau, Bonaire, but I’ll skip over Cuba! To the top of the mast! out onto the fantail! Now dash away!dash away! watch out for the rail”

As sea spray that before the wild gales do fly, when they meet our steel bow, mount up to the sky, so up to Navigation Deck, Santa he flew, and woke up the Captain, the Purser, and the Engineer too!

And then, in the twinkling, I saw by the sleigh, that Santa was scouting the midnight buffet. As I drew in my hand, and was turning aback, down went St. Nicholas-down the smoke stack!

He was dressed all in fur, and in happy mood, until he emerged, all cover’d in burnt crude; a bundle of sea weed he had stuck on his back, and he looked like a pirate who had stolen a sack.

His eyes-how they watered! His dimples a bit hairy! His cheeks were like roses, but he looked somewhat scary! His droll littel mouth was drawn up like a bowline, and the beard of his chin was long enough for trollin’;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his mug, and the ashes that spilt, did threaten the rug; He had a broad face and was round in the middle, that shook, when he laughed-too much time by the griddle!

He was chubby and plump, a salty old dog, and I laughed when I saw him, as I peered through the fog; A wink of his eye told me this was not a scam, he had planned very carefully to board the Rotterdam;

He spoke not a word, but when into each cabin, and filled all the stockings, while cookies he’s grabbin’; and laying his finger behind his big back, and giving a nod, up he went through the stack;

He sprang to his sleigh, on the rocking warm deck, and away he did fly, and was gone in a sec. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove over the ocean

“Happy Christmas to All and Wear Suntan Lotion”