I could not find anyone to head out with me.  I decided I would go early and then do the routine.  Southport Island, first.  Bird on tiny Hendrick’s Beach.  Return to Boothbay Harbor.  Walk the crooked roads to see what tall ships are in for repair, and walk the footbridge.  But, I was running late. 

Gathered all my warm clothes and off I went.  The day, which started off as unusually sunny, was now cold and enveloped in snow clouds.  Drove through a heavy rain squall, and then snow.  When I arrived, it was overcast. 

This time the stores were open.  It was too late to go to Southport Island but too early for the boat parade, so I darted in and out of stores to keep warm. 

The community band was performing their usual, endearing, unrecognizable Christmas carols.  Only this time, instead of trying to figure out what carol they were playing, the man wrapped in the white tuba announced each selection.  Even with the announcement, the first few bars were unrecognizable and there was a delay in the singing. 

This time some of the adults were dressed as elves, and that took away from the quietness of the event.  It was finally dark and people were gathering at the pier.  I couldn’t remember the best place to watch.

There was a boat ramp without the usual chain across it.  A large man in a snowman suit and a few others walked down the ramp.  The snowman turned to us and said, “Only the judges can go down this ramp.”  What I really wanted to do was go down the ramp.

An unassuming elderly woman said, “Last year there were only five boats.  And this year we tried to get more”.  I seem to remember more— the event so vast, in its quiet magic.

Then someone said, I think it’s raining, and a wild, heavy mist blew in.  This turned to ice pellets.  It was then, I decided to go down the ramp. 

I stood by the low end of a lobster boat for a perfect view, keeping a slight distance from the judges.  The water was black.  At one point because I was freezing, I considered climbing into the lobster boat, but didn’t want to slip, so I stood with my back to the weather.  The back of my legs sheltered by three plastic lobster crates.

Someone said, here they come.  And from the dark water, came the first boat.

The judges were not fully prepared, waving their clipboards and yelling, “What’s the name of your boat?” as each boat passed by.  One boat had a pink flamingo with the shape of a palm tree in lights.  A tour boat came blasting by with Christmas music from a scratchy loud speaker.  Next came the sweet, smaller boats. 

One of the lobster boats towed a small dragon in lights.  I heard one of the judges say, but the one with the flamingos.  And then someone else mentioned the dragon.  Then came a huge, stately sailboat with a gentle string of lights up and down the mast, so quiet.

I stood for a long time after the judges left and watched the boats circle the black harbor one by one, now far across the shore.  Then they broke formation and motored slowly over to the docks nearby.  Moving shapes in the night.

I walked up the ramp, careful to hold onto the railing for the ice.  Made my way up the winding streets for my little car, clapping my hands for warmth.  And the thought of sitting down to a warm supper and a hot cup of tea, carried me home.