CHRISTMAS ON WATCH
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ship,
Four watch standers were stirring, in his bed slept the Skip.
The remaining crew was nestled, snug in their racks,
The brave on their stomachs, the smart on their backs.
The flight list was erected in the galley with care,
In the futile hope that crew change soon would be there.
And I in my blue jeans and T-shirt and Docs,
Had just settled in for the mid-to-noon watch.
When suddenly from up forward there crept such a smell
I jumped from the chair wondering, “What in the Hell…?”
Threw the smut in the drawer and from the control room I sped,
Down the port side passage, toward the Second Deck head.
I made it up forward and pumped open the door,
Stepped through the hatch and set foot on the floor.
My eyes they teared up and my nose I did plug,
To my horror, the sewage plant had quit and backed up.
A few hours later, when it was finally cleared,
I only saw then it was worse than I feared.
The jolly old steward stood there in usual pose,
Hair net on his head, gloved finger in his nose.
In a not-so-white apron stressed over his middle,
He laughed at my plight with a sick, twisted giggle.
And then to the galley he flew like a flash
(Not nearly that quick, due to the size of his ass).
He exclaimed o’er his shoulder sputtering curses as he went,
Clearing his lungs and trailing a scent,
“Best you fix up that shitter, it’s the right thing to do,
‘Cause I’m whipping up Tex Mex for all of the crew!
On, engine one, numbers two, four and three!”
Then, after a short pause, to cough and to wheeze,
“Oil prices be damned! This is not the first!
‘Twas terrible in the ‘80s, in the ‘70s much worse!”
Soon he had vanished through a watertight hatch,
As I girded my loins and lit up a match.
But I heard between expletives, as he waddled away,
“Next year will be better, hear what I say!
Everyone with a job in support of a boat,
Will see a fair shake, ashore and afloat.
In the meantime, buck up! Hike up your britches!
Merry Christmas to all, and be safe, Bitches!
