MD-19 Lions Carry on Holiday Service     Download as PDF 2.5mb     Gallery

Gazing toward the sea, the children on the shore gasp, squeal and shout when they spy him on the bow of the ship in his red suit with white beard and rotund figure. He's waving, chuckling and ho-hoho-ing. For more than 60 years, the arrival of Santa on the Lions' Christmas ship has ignited holiday cheer on a dozen sparsely populated islands of the Pacific Northwest.

In early December, Santa and his 50-person crew visit the remote Canadian and U.S. islands in the Northern Puget Sound. A warm, often boisterous welcome occurs. On Pender Island, a raucous pipe band greets the 110-foot ship. On Lummi Island, an ambulance owned by a Lion wails hello. Fireworks burst over the water as the ship streams into Salt Spring Island. A bonfire on the beach warms Santa and his elves at Galiano Island. Perhaps best of all, on Mayne Island firefighters "pull" Santa's "sleigh" up a hill. Santa waves joyously from the fire truck. "The Christmas ship is the heart of the season," says Karen Watson, a longtime resident of Pender Island. "It just starts everybody into the spirit. We'll be having fun all weekend."

For people elsewhere, Christmas may start with the TV broadcast of the Charlie Brown cartoon, a holiday concert at school or the first seasonal shopping expedition to the mall. For these islands, Santa's ship signals the start of the holiday merrymaking. The ship departs within 90 minutes and sometimes within half an hour. But it sparks the season. Islanders crowd a street or square. Old friends get caught up. Good cheer abounds. Traditions unite neighbors and generations. A fair number of the parents or grandparents with children in tow no longer live on the islands. Eager to give their children what they experienced, they return to the islands the Santa ship weekend. The islanders are isolated geographically but like everyone else connected emotionally to the holiday and the ship. "It's a whole island event pretty much. It's very exciting," says Mary Jones, who belongs to "one of the pioneer families" of Saturna Island.

The ship arrives in grand style. Red garlands swirl around its rails. A bright red cap sits atop a ship beam. The familiar Christmas songs that boom from the ship¹s heavy-duty speakers literally rattle cups on shelves inside the islands¹ modest homes.

Typically bunched together behind Santa is a cast of characters beloved by children: clowns, pirates and elves. When the ship docks, the colorful crew bursts from the boat onto land, a Keystone Cops episode. The pointy-eared elves hurry down the gangway carrying lumpy bags stuffed with toys and treats.

The Christmas ship began in 1947 when islanders asked a boat captain to bring Santa to them since it was difficult to bring their children to Santa on the mainland. "The kids on the islands didn¹t have transportation to and from the big cities. Most of them got to the island by rowing," says Don Wight, a Lion and the son of the original captain who now steers the ship.

A retired math teacher, Wight, 68, also captains a whale watching ship. He first began working on the Christmas ship as a teen-age Sea Scout when an Eagles Lodge sponsored the holiday island hopping. The Jaycees eventually took over the operation and then the Lions assumed command in 1996. The Bellingham Central Lions Clubs, a large club with 130 members, is the project¹s lead club, but U.S. and Canadian Lions from throughout Multiple District 19 help fill the ship¹s slots. Lions on the islands (seven of the 12 have clubs) work with the crew to entertain the children and make the visit festive and memorable.

The ship sets sail on Friday night from Bellingham, Washington, and returns Sunday evening after covering 2,500 square miles. The islands are part of the Canadian Gulf Islands and American San Juan Islands. The crew sleeps on Salt Springs, the biggest island by far with 10,000 people. A few of the islands are only 15 minutes apart. The longest trip is two hours. But for the islanders, the wait is a long year. The Christmas season doesn't start until the Christmas ship docks.

Rolling in with the ship is a wave of good feelings. "I've lived in a lot of places," says Harry Lane of the Mayne Island Lions Club in British Columbia. "I've been here 37, going on 38 years. But I've never seen this kind of community spirit over Christmas."

Still, the modern age has creeped in. Children today do get off the island more frequently. But the Christmas ship helps islanders connect with their past and one another.

"When we show up, it's the Christmas season for them," says Wight. "It's their community Christmas gathering. It's this tremendous gathering of all the islanders coming just to be involved with the Christmas ship Santa Claus, gift giving, talking to each other, seeing each other, visiting people they don't often visit with."

A Currier-and-Ives moment occurs at the old brick post office with a potbelly stove on Waldron Island, still without electricity. As the aroma of homemade apple cider wafts through the room, 23 homeschooled, applecheeked children encircle Santa, graciously accept their gift and treasure their minutes with him.

The ship, leased by the Lions, normally serves as a passenger ferry between Bellingham and Victoria. In its previous life, the ship was a derrick tender for oil rigs in Louisiana and then a cruise ship. A Canadian coast guard ship accompanies the Christmas ship on Saturday when it stops at Canadian islands. "They're out on the water anyway. They want to be part of the fun," explains Wight.

But neither the Coast Guard nor Santa and his elves can ease the torment of rough seas. Lions who sign up for crew duty know they may have to endure some literal ups and downs. Last year 65-knot winds howled, and 12-foot waves lashed the boat, which bobbed like a cork in the rough waters. The boat iced over. Wight was forced to cancel a stop because of the risk. Nearly half the Lions got sea sick. When the ship finally made port, a Lion on shore, seeing their distress, asked, "What can I do for you?" "Dramamine," a Lion replied.

Despite the potential for rough weather, a long waiting list exists for a spot on the crew. By April this year, even though the openings had yet to be announced, 84 people applied to be on the crew. The ship always allows 20 new Lions to come on board and then fills the rest of the slots with veterans and Lions from diverse clubs.

Recognizing it is a working ship with assigned duties, crew members jokingly call themselves "galley slaves." But Lions say the atmosphere on the ship is carnival-like with Lions re-applying makeup, stuffing goody bags, playing cards, swapping tall tales and enjoying the omnipresent holiday tunes. If you're bored for a second, you can always tug on Santa's beard from behind or draw the sword from an unsuspecting pirate and jab him in the leg. "We're all adults. But we have so much fun reliving dressing up and pretending," says Judy Portas, a Lion for 20 snow seasons.

The real fun starts when the ship enters the harbor and the Lions meet the children. Each of the 800 children on the islands visited by Santa receives a small toy, purchased by the Lions at bargain prices shortly after Christmas the year before, and a healthy treat such as an apple or orange. The pirates challenge the children in sword fights. The clowns hand them balloon animals. The eight-person choir, with the ladies in red shawls and the men in top hats, serenade the crowd with holiday staples. Quips, puns and pretending fly like snowflakes. Miss Kitty, known to friends as Judy Portas, hands out balloon mice and reassurances to the children: "I stayed up all night catching the bad mice so you are safe from them."

It's Santa who offers the most reassurance. Kids can to talk to him and confide in him without being rushed. "He's not the usual dime store Santa where you get your picture taken and then you're off the lap," says Wight. No Christmas ship can bring true joy unless Santa is at the top of his game and the Lions' Santa is. Just ask his wife.

"He's the most natural person I've ever met. He's absolutely wonderful," says Mrs. Claus. "He's like a big bear. Some kids are timid and he can really read that and gets them at ease." Without her granny glasses and grey wig, Mrs. Claus, by the way, is a dead ringer for Lynda Davidson of Surrey, British Columbia, a Lion for 12 years.

How does Santa relate so well with children? Santa won't reveal any trade secrets or break the children-Claus confidentiality rules. But he did tell the LION: "I try to get on their level. I'm one of them. I may ask what they think of Christmas, not about what they want for Christmas." Of course, it's always more interesting what the kids say back to him. "They tell me anything," says Santa. "I've heard it all - from adults and kids."

No small part of the pleasure of serving on the Christmas ship is the refreshing selflessness of some of the children. Many of them give Santa a homemade card or a small gift such as a bag of coffee beans. They're eager to see Santa but patient and orderly. "Some of the wealthier kids do ask for the things urban kids ask for. But some kids ask for cloth to make a doll for a sister. Or they ask for their parents to get healthy," says Santa. The children come from a different world. "Lots of island children don't have all the technical things other kids do. Island culture is a little different," says Portas, who once lived on Galiano Island for five years.

The Lions encounter families down on their luck; they've tried to help. But they've learned to let things be. "One year there was a child with a coat held together by staples. The family would not accept aid. That¹s the way they raise their kids. You get what you work for. You have to respect their wishes," says Portas.

Santa is not just for the kids. Parents of tykes often sneak a moment or two on Santa's lap. Santa also visits the bedsides of the elderly and infirm at a retirement home and hospital on Salt Spring. Lions vie for the duty of accompanying Santa to cheer senior citizens. Some can't talk. But their eyes glow and the corners of their mouth curl into broad grins. "It can be overwhelming [emotionally]. Santa can always handle it," says Santa. "But there is a residual [emotional] effect. You have to let it roll off your back like duck with water." Not every Lion can be Santa, however, and not let their emotions get the best of them. "A lot of the elderly don't have a lot of visitors. It makes you want to cry. I get quite choked up when they're so thrilled just to get a stuffed animal," says Davidson.

That's the real secret of the Christmas boat. It's the old but true story about the holiday and about Lions, too. Giving is about receiving. Portas once accompanied Santa on a visit to a home with a father with three young boys. Santa did his thing and turned to leave and Portas followed him. But one of the boys had to tell her what he felt. He grabbed her by the back of the leg and said, "Thank you. Thank you for bringing Christmas." Those moments linger - forever. "It's the warm fuzzies. I did something for someone else and don't I feel good about that," says Portas.

Santa gets the last word. "We all lose sight of what's really important," he says. "If you want to see what's really important in life, spend some time with the Christmas ship. You'll look at Christmas very differently from the week before."