My annual pre-Christmas tradition, with the usual apologies to Clement Clarke Moore . . .
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the sea
The creatures were swimming, waiting for thee;
The fins were all hung on the transom with care,
In hopes that good visibility soon would be there.
The divers were nestled in suits that were wet,
With visions of Whale Sharks they hadn't yet met;
When out on the water there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the rail to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a raft pulled by fish, heading right towards me.
With a little old driver, both lively and slow,
I knew in a moment, it must be Cousteau.
More rapid than dolphins his pullers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, PUFFER! now, GOBY! now, GROUPER and SEA BASS!
"On, MORAY! on SALMON! on, SNAPPER and BIRD WRASSE!"
To the top of the wheelhouse the fishies they flew,
With the raft full of goodies, and J. Cousteau too.
And then, in a twinkling, as I was turning around,
Down the stairs Cousteau came with a bound.
He was dressed all in neoprene, from his head to his toes,
And his famous red beanie perched just above his nose;
A bundle of dive gear he'd flung on his back,
AquaLung, Scubapro, and even Stahl-sac.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his mouth,
A wisp of smoke from it, drifted off to the south.
A wink of his eye and an O-K sign,
Soon gave me to know he was quite benign.
He spoke not a word, but muttered something in French,
And spread out the goodies, along the galley bench,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
With a nod to the top of the wheelhouse he rose.
He sprang to his raft, to his team gave a yell,
Then turned to face me, and rang a small bell.
And I heard him exclaim, as they dove out of sight,
"MERRY FISHMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
- Santa Kurtis and his faithful scuba elves |
