Twas the night before Christmas, and under the seas,

Not a creature was stirring, 'round the tropical Keys;

The remoras all hung to the nurse sharks with care,

In hopes that St. Manatee soon would be there;

The fingerlings nested in their coral beds;

While visions of fishing chum danced in their heads;

And Mom in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a warm winter's nap,

When up on the surface there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my sea bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the shallows I swam through the kelp,

Tore through some seagrass, bumped into a whelk.

The moon reflecting off the tide so low,

Gave a lustre of midday to the seashells below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

A Bermuda rigged sloop pulling up to the pier,

With a little old Captain, algae on his back,

I knew for a fact, it was Manatee Max!

More rapid than mullet chased by a tarpon,

He whistled, and shouted, and to him the crew hearkened:

"Now, Chowder! now, Crabcake! now Sushi and Lutefisk!

On, Rawbar! on, Scampi! on, Catfish and Fixens!

Uncleat that springline. Push off that seawall!

Now stash away! Stash away! Stash away all!"

As seas that before the wild hurricane rise,

When they meet with the jetties, mount to the skies;

From up on the mast top to the skeg of the keel,

With the boat load of toys, and St. Max at the wheel—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the surface,

The footsteps of sailors on deck with a purpose.

I came to the surface for a quick look around,

Down the boarding ladder St. Max came with a bound.

He swung his big fluke and swam without a sound,

His mouth was half full of his last seagrass snack;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his muzzle, how merry!

Barnacles on his back, naris like a cherry!

His cute little smile was drawn up like a bow,

Vibrissae on his chin were as white as the snow;

The stump of a mangrove he held tight in his teeth,

And some kelp that encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a smooth rounded belly,

That looked like he just finished off a whole deli.

He was chubby and plump, but he swam with such stealth,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a wave of his flipper,

Assured me that I should be nothing but chipper.

He spoke not a word, but swam straight to his duty,

He moved with finesse, and such grace and such beauty.

Then laying his flipper aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, to the surface he rose;

He boarded his boat, to his crew gave a shout,

And away they all sailed with their spinnaker out.

But I heard him exclaim, as they cruised out of sight—

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”