T’WAS the night before Christmas, well, maybe a week or so, and Rudolph the very red-nosed reindeer was enjoying a bit of ice fishing up at the North Pole. You may well laugh, but our antlered friend had all his priorities right.Away with the notion that ice fishing consists of squatting over a hole with a hand line whilst freezing off (it has to be if the ice is going to remain solid with your weight on it) various nether parts of the anatomy. Maybe the Eskimos used that version but Rudolph has made liberal with the Jolly Old Elf’s glacial accommodation.

As is the norm for the serious ice angler, there is a shack. The “shack” is a mobile hut with all the modern conveniences of home with a few more thrown in. Believe it or not, they are heated so that you can hang up the parka, scarf and gloves.

There are all sorts of creature comforts: a nice comfy armchair, remote controlled wide-screen television and a wet bar. It doesn’t take too much imagination to figure out how Rudolph got a red nose in the first place.

To return to the ice fishing, it can be quite productive with fish like lake trout, pickerel and other preferred freshwater species actually pleasing northern anglers. And even if they are not biting, you and your mates can relax in warm luxury and enjoy non-piscatorial diversions like watching football on television. Such are Rudolph’s plans for the next week or so.

This will all came to a sticky end when Santa decides it is time to harness up the reindeer and then jumps into his sleigh and takes off for points south. Doubtless, it will be a dark, cold and foggy night and with the international requirements for aircraft to carry lights, Rudolph’s glowing nose will be required at the head of the team (this sounds a bit like the lead dog in a dog sled race over the snow (shades of Sergeant Preston of the Yukon) where he will put on a splendid performance while actually leaving the work to the other eight.

You really don’t want to be there when Kris Kringle has the unenviable task of dragging Rudy out of his shack and into the leathers. Well, actually, you do but you certainly do not want to be involved.

The Jolly Old Elf will inevitably get his way and will soar off into the midnight sky for a whirlwind tour of the world, spending all of 3.6 nanoseconds in Bermuda before continuing on to points unknown.

First stop, St. David’s. This, in and of itself, is risky business. There is a chap down there who has been threatening to cut the water melon for 40-odd years. Mind you the melon has stayed intact but most visitors have left at least half cut. You know how Christmas stockings always hold useless presents: well, this will surpass itself when Santa stuffs a pair of shoes into Barney’s stolen stocking (if you don’t wear shoes, then you certainly don’t wear socks!). The good news is that our hero, Rudolph, was aware of this and not only don’t the shoes match, but they might conceivably fit the newest member of the St. David’s Barnes clan.

Sailboat gear will be in order for Santa-look-alike Martin Dixon who is planning a major excursion across the briny in a new, improved craft in the spring.

Not much good can be said of Hugh Blackwood whose glorious double-digit wahoo haul earlier this year has given him delusions of grandeur. Inasmuch as he is headed for the bayous shortly, a Cajun phrase book might well come in handy, or perhaps some red-neck spray. New Orleans might have had to deal with Katrina but this could be a whole lot of other wind! As Santa knows, Spanish Point is best avoided at this time of the year but I’m sure that Rudolph will have slipped enough rumour and gossip into Santa’s sack to ensure that there is plenty of action out Point.

Keith Winter — what a great name for this time of year — will be doing his best to avoid the angling rancour that he almost always finds himself in as an IGFA rep. He has written to Santa asking for a suit to make him invisible at fishermen’s meetings.

Things will be markedly different in Somerset where Santa will relieve his sleigh of a great weight when leaving a suit of medieval armour for Ian Card, who will appreciate become spear proof. Not surprisingly, Capt. Alan J. will be in for a lump or two of coal, because, as usual, although he has been notable he has not been anything like good. Santa won’t forget the fish either. At least he better not — most men are notoriously inefficient at simple domestically-orientated errands.

But, a series of reminders will keep the rockfish at bay as the ever-cooling reef area waters will see a slow down in their activity. Certainly, the tendency for mere humans to concentrate on turkey and ham will give that population a little bit of a break. Sadly, the same cannot be said for the lobsters with even Santa hoping to find a couple that he can slip into his sack for himself and Mrs. Claus.

Santa will be disappointed not to find Hilton Smith’s stocking. Hilton was too busy talking to hang it up and why would he want a hearing aid anyway? They don’t help you to hear the sound of your own voice, illustrious and enlightening as it might be.

Rather like Hilton, Rudolph will be providing running commentary much to the disgust of dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. For him, there won’t be any Christmas hay with lichens waiting for him back at the Pole but the all the other reindeer will make sure there will be a bit of a hot time for him; perhaps not what he has in mind.

Everything frivolous aside, now is the time to count our blessings and to spare a thought for those less fortunate. Christmas is a time for peace, thanksgiving and family. To paraphrase Clement Moore (of The Night Before Christmas fame), “I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, Merry Christmas to all and to all Tight lines!!!