Night Before Christmas…Turtle Island Style
Adapted by Simone Lipscomb
From Clement Clarke Moore’s Poem
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Coral Park
Not a fish was stirring, not even a shark.
The stockings were hung on the brain coral with care,
In hopes that Santa Loggerhead soon would be there;
The Parrotfish were nestled in cocoon beds,
While visions of candied algae swam in their heads;
And daddy under his coral ledge, and I in my gap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out from the deep there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the reef to see what was the matter.
Away to the drop-off I swam a fast clip,
Right through Tube Sponges and over Sea Whips.
The moon on the breast of sand, white like snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
When, what my wondering eyes saw from the dark,
A Giant Clam and eight big Bull Sharks,
With an ancient old driver, who looked well-fed,
I knew for certain, it was Santa Loggerhead.
More rapid than Barracuda’s his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now Billy! Now Bruzer! Now, Bobby and Barry!
On Betty! On Beatrice! On Emily and Mary!
To the top of the reef! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away Dash away all.”
As palm leaves that before the wild hurricanes fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the reef-top the bully’s did tow,
A clam full of goodies and Santa Loggerhead, Oh!
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the reef
The gnashing and gnawing of all those shark’s teeth.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the reef Santa Loggerhead swam with a bound.
He was old and wrinkled from head to flipper,
His shell full of barnacles, but he couldn’t look hipper.
A bundle of goodies he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a diver just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled, so ancient and wise!
His head was enormous, his shell a huge size!
His beaked mouth was strong, I’m here to tell,
His overall look was really quite swell.
The stump of a Tube Sponge he held in his beak,
And Blue Chromis encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad shell and quite a round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a Cannonball Jelly.
He was ancient and huge, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a turn 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 a flipper aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, off the reef he rose;
He sprang to his clam sleigh, to his team said, “GO!”
And away they all swam like a five knot flow.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he swam out of sight,
“Happy holidays to all, and to all a good night.”
After sleeping on and off over 11 hours and spending the morning relaxing, I am slowly slipping into that timeless dimension of whale. I’ve sat and read as the ocean breeze tussled my hair, walked around photographing points of interest at the marina and contemplated a few thoughts but mostly haven’t thought of much.
