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Day's Run World Voyage 7

Day’s Run – 24 December, 2018

‘Twas the night before Christmas and on board Picton Castle 

Not a trainee was stirring, all
was quiet in the forecastle

The stockings were hung by the
scuttle with care,

In hopes that Saint Nicholas
soon would be there;

The off-watch were nestled all
snug in their beds;

While visions of short splices
danced in their heads;

And Tammy in her sarong, and I,
also in my sarong,

Had just settled our brains for
a long evening’s nap,

When out on the quarterdeck
there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bunk to see
what was the matter.

Away to the bulkhead I flew
like a flash,

Tore open the curtains and
threw open the dog latch.

The moon through the rigging up
in the air,

Gave a lustre of midday to the
hatch cover out there,

When what to my wondering eyes
did appear,

But a miniature monomoy and
eight tiny oarsmen,

With a little old coxswain so
lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be
St. Nick.

Faster than trainees, they
tossed oars, alongside they came,

And he whistled, and shouted,
and called them by name:

“Now, Chief Mate! now,
Purser! now carpenter and Bosun!

On, Second Mate! on, Sailmaker!
on, Riggers and seamen!

Hands to the boat falls! 
Hands to stern and to bow lines!

Now haul away! Haul away! Haul
away all!”

As leaves that before the wild
hurricane fly,

When they meet with an
obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the davits the long
boat did fly

With the sleigh full of toys,
and St. Nicholas too—

And then, in a twinkling, I saw
in the rigging,

That boatful of crew members
playing and frigging.

As I drew in my head, and was
turning around,

Down the mainstay St. Nicholas
slid with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from
his head to his feets,

And his clothes were all
tarnished with pine tar and grease;

A bundle of toys he had flung
on his back,

And he looked like a pedler
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 I laughed when I saw him,
in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist
of his head

Soon gave me to know I had
nothing to dread;

He 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, up the port
shrouds he rose;

He sprang to the long boat, the
crew eased away,

And down the boat flew and got
underway.

But I heard him exclaim, ere
they rowed out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to
all a good night!”

Revised by World Voyage 7 crew member Anne, of New York

From: Bali, Indonesia

Towards: Rodrigues

Date: Monday December 24th, 2018

Noon Position: 14°29.1’S x 089°23.4’E

Course + Speed: W + 4.9 kts

Wind direction + Force: S + 2-3

Swell Height + Direction: 1-2m + S-SE

Weather: Sunny

Day’s Run: 117.6 nm

Passage Log: 1833.8 nm

Distance to Port: 1520 nm

Voyage: 15609.6 nm

Sails Set: All sails including stuns’ls