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This past Christmas my friend, Rich, invited us on his boat for the San Rafael lighted boat parade.  The weather was great, the crew was hilarious, and the decorated boats were amazing.
Because the boat had been serviced the day before and the mechanic hadn’t reconnected the second engine we had a little drama.

My friend Kim, who was aboard, wrote a little piece about the event, which I want to share with you below:

T’was the night of the 17th when all through the boat
everyone was arriving with snacks and heavy coats.
The children were snuggled up tight in their life vests
while visions of gin and tonics danced in the adults’ heads;
and Mom in her Christmas sweater and Joe in his best velvet shirt
had just settled down with a nice glass of white wine;
when up on the fly bridge there arose such a clatter,
LG sprang from his drink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Rich flew like a flash,
tore open the windscreen and threw up his hands.
The moon, on the breast of the water below,
gave a luster of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear off the bow,
but a small docked sailboat with 8 merry makers
and a little ‘ol captain not paying attention,
I knew in a moment we were in deep doo doo.
More rapid than eagles we yelled and we screamed
and we whistled and shouted and called out his name:
“Ohhh Rich! OMG Richie! Turn!!! Stopppp! What the f—! Uh, Rich?
From the wheel of the fly bridge, to the downstairs bridge,
stop the boat, stop the boat! Stop the boat now!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
I could envision a collision with that boat and its crew.
Rich looked cool as a cucumber from his head to his foot,
but underneath it all he was sweaty and undone;
His eyes how they twinkled with fear, his cheeks were like roses
and his nose like a cherry (was it all those gin and tonics
or was his blood pressure through the roof?).
His mouth was drawn and his hair was white as snow
(but that happened before the outing).
A wink of his eye and a twist 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 managed to get us back to the dock without hurt.
And I heard him exclaim as I stepped off the boat,
“where the hell is my iPhone?”