...and to all a good night

From Great North Road

By Kenneth Miller.
December 2001

Christmas Eve 1964 was a personal milestone in my life. Having turned eighteen three weeks earlier, I was confronted with the question that perhaps there was no Father Christmas. This was indeed a painful moment for a young man who had led a protected and sheltered life in Northern Rhodesia/Zambia. I even started to have doubts about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairey.

There had been great excitment earlier in the day aboard the British India Steam Ship Kenya as she sailed North in the tranquil tropical blue waters of the Indian Ocean just of the coast of Tanganyika.The children excitedly awaited the arrival of the Jolly Old Elf himself at their Christmas party.

Shortly after four, Father Christmas dressed in his familiar red and white suit with flowing white hair and beard arrived in a life boat that had been lowered from the bridge deck, where we were led to believe Rudolph and the other reindeer had parked the sleigh. The excitment grew to a frenzy as he gave each child a wonderful gift.

Now Father Christmas, being a jolly old fellow, continued to enjoy the festive ambience on the ship by attending the Christmas Eve Ball. As the evening progressed the impeccably dressed old man started to become dishevelled .... I discovered that his portleness was provided by a pillow and horror of horrors his white hair and beard were fake as his whiskers had moved around his head and were now placed under his left ear.

After the ball was over, Father Christmas and his new band of elves, myself included, now gathered near the swimming pool continued to imbide in the festive spirit. Then in a blink of an eye, he disappeared and gave a hearty "Ho Ho Ho", we looked up and there perched on the railings of the deck above was Father Christmas. Staggering, he waved, shouted, and then jumped into the dark waters of the pool below sending up a gigantic plume of white salty water.

Frantic moments went by, then his wig and beard gently floated to the surface, to be followed shortly by St. Nick as he floundered in the cool salty water of the pool. The elves rushed forward and helped their leader out of the pool. I was shattered as I questioned in my own mind as to who was this wet bedraggled man in a red suit.

The elves hastily placed the wig, beard and red hat on Father Christmas' head and then gently led him through the passages, down into the bowels of the ship to the crews' quarters, leaving a tell-tale trail of water.

I returned to my cabin, quietly entering, not to wake my father and there at the foot of my bunk was a mountain of gifts; the real Father Christmas had been. As I lay contented in my bunk that there really was a Father Christmas, I believe I heard the Old Elf as he finished his rounds and left the ship shout out "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night".