Choppy cruise gives rise to waves of protest

The Wolfsies have returned from a Christmas cruise where high seas and bad weather made our journey less than enjoyable. So, in the spirit of Clement Clarke Moore’s classic poem spiced with a little Dr. Seuss, I hope you enjoy my memory of the trip.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the boat

People were restless so here’s what I wrote:

We had decided this Christmas to forgo a gift

And instead spend the money to all go adrift

The Wolfsies were nestled all snug in our beds

While visions of port calls danced in our heads

Mary Ellen in her nightgown and I in my tee

Were ready for bed and looked out at sea

When out on the deck there arose such a racket

I ran to our closet and grabbed a life jacket

Then to the porthole to look out on the ocean

That made me seasick … all due to the motion

When what to my listening ears should I hear

But an officer’s voice and the message was clear:

The sea was too choppy, or so said the captain

Disembarking the ship was not gonna happen

Then he whistled and shouted and called them by name

No Honduras, no Cozumel and then, no Belize

I let out a curse word

My wife said, “Oh, geez.”

With no ports to dock in, the message was clear

They couldn’t stock up on food I held dear:

No knockwurst, no blintzes, no lox, and no brisket

The heck with the waves, I thought they should risk it.

Then in a twinkling an announcement to all

Confirming again there’d be no ports of call

But the captain assured all on the cruise

There would be lots on board to entertain and amuse

Now Johnsons, now Goldbergs, now Reynolds, now Grays

There’s shuffleboard, pingpong and a jukebox that plays

The casino is open, just think about that

Or learn to fold towels in the shape of cat

The people on board could not have been madder

And then out on the deck I heard such a clatter

When what to my wandering eyes should appear

But the head chef himself in his holiday gear

He was dressed all in white like a man from the navy

And his clothes were stained with chocolate and gravy

He had a broad face and a little round belly

And he passed out some pastries and small jars of jelly

Then a wink of his eye and a nod of his head

And now I was sure that I would be fed

He spoke not a word but went right to his station

Creating his dishes from every known nation

He pinched thumb to forefinger and said, “Magnifique!”

What a soup he created: I think it was leek.

Then he made a new sauce and a great crème brûlée

Then back to the kitchen to prepare for the next day.

I heard him exclaim as he went out of sight:

Merry Christmas to all and enjoy every bite!