I retain immeasurable respect for people who expend the effort to trim their homes with Christmas spirit.

For some, there might be a one-upper aspect to the endeavor ("Think your lights are so dang great, Bob? I'll show you what a real man's lights look like!") Even still, I like to think they're a altruistic gesture - a gift to passersby. A decorated house is evidence of a home owner's true yule tide devotion.

And hanging Christmas lights ain't easy. I remember spending the entirety of a December day stringing lights along the front shrubs. My brother and I created a lit pattern of colored bulbs that dazzled the senses! The design was so intricate, so heavenly, it was a risk to passing motorists. The distraction could potentially cause accidents.

We worked those lights until our fingers and faces were numb, only to have them unapologetically go dark just two days after they were hung (no thanks to the little devil across the street with the bad attitude and a pair of wire cutters).

But we're in Maine, folks. And with the water just over our shoulders it only makes sense that the holiday lights make their way to our floating fleet.

Saturday was the 8th Annual Portland Harbor Boat Parade of Lights. The parade was visible from the shoreline, but we opted to pay the $8 to watch it from the water on a Casco Bay Lines ferry.

Bundled passengers piled on the boat at dusk - some smart early birds snagged the tables in the enclosed upper deck and popped open a few bottles of wine.

There was a table of chips and cookies (I believe courtesy of local non-profit SailMaine - who also benefited from the event proceeds) and a small bar. Though it seemed most folks, us included, had come prepared with their own warming drinks.

At 4:30 we motored out toward the East End to find a handful of finely decorated boats passing by. From the other direction, a handful more came along.

In quick order they positioned themselves into a line, then played follow the leader through Portland Harbor.

And we stood on the deck, freezing but not caring that we were freezing, singing along to the holiday tunes blaring from the ferry's speakers and "oohing" at the watercraft.

And then came the fireworks, straight off the deck of one of the participating boats.

As the parade trailed by, that boat slowed, explosions momentarily brightening the dark sky. And the boat began to spin. Spin! I wasn't even aware a boat could maneuver like that, but there it was, sending up fireworks and twirling in the harbor.

I vowed right then and there to be ON that boat next year.

Purty.