Christmas at sea

I was thinking the other day that I’ve spent at least 12 Christmases at sea or on a ship in port so far away that even Santa Claus couldn’t find it. It’s probably more than 12, but I rounded it off.

 

Christmas at sea has always attracted the poets and writers. In his poem, “Christmas at Sea” (1888), Robert Louis Stevenson, son of a Scottish lighthouse keeper and author of “Treasure Island,” pointed out the challenges of such a day on the high seas:

 

“The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand; The decks were like a slide, where a seaman could hardly stand;

 

“The wind was a nor’wester, blowing squally off the sea;

 

“And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.”

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