I think that for most of my life, I have agreed with the water rat in The Wind in the Willows.
“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing — absolutely nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”
I have always enjoyed being on a boat and always seem happy afloat.
When I was growing up, we lived near the Delaware River. I looked forward to a special day each summer. It involved spending a day on the river with one of my dad’s cousins who owned a cabin cruiser. We enjoyed seeing some landmarks from an entirely different angle.
Some years later, in 1972, toward the end of my seminary career, I was getting ready for ordination as a priest. I was assigned as a deacon to a Columban parish on St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands. The harbor of Charlotte Amalie was a busy place with cruise ships bringing tourists, sailboats, and small vessels bringing produce from the other islands. At first, I thought all those white-painted cruise ships in the harbor looked alike, but after a few months, instead of checking a calendar, I noticed myself glancing at the harbor to tell the day of the week, “Today is Friday since the Ambassador and the Adventurer are in.”
During the 1980s, while living in Chicago, I learned to enjoy sailing in a catboat on Lake Michigan. You only had to be a few hundred yards off shore, to exchange the noise and traffic of Lake Shore Drive for the fresh air and quiet off-shore. I also learned about all the work it takes to keep a sailboat “shipshape.”
About 20 years later, during the time I was living in Dublin, Ireland, I was an occasional volunteer at the Apostleship of the Sea. They had a large old townhouse on the north bank of the River Liffey in the city center and a van that used to collect crewmen from the ships in the outer harbor and bring them into the center where they could relax and get phone cards to contact their families in their home countries. Some of them would shop for things to take home or send home.
When I was Regional Director of the Columban Fathers in Nebraska — far from salt water(!), I was going through my mail and received a brochure from the Apostleship of the Sea-USA, recruiting priests to join their ministry to people of the sea. I passed along their request through the regional newsletter, but there was not much response. Some priests like the idea of a week or more on a cruise ship, but I know others who remember being seasick and for that or other reasons would consider it about as attractive a prospect as jail time.
Today’s cruise ships are like floating resort towns; the most recently constructed ships carry thousands of passengers and crew members. There are plenty of entertainment options, and dining options, shops, a casino, a theatre.
Like the social class situation on land, on the ship, there are two groups of people — passengers and crew, separate and unequal. The chaplain is somewhere in an in-between category.
Some of the other problems that face us on land, also face us at sea. For example, reducing the carbon footprint is a serious issue as is preventing diseases from being transmitted in a somewhat confined environment.
People are, of course, on vacation and are seeking relaxation. They don’t have to worry about what to cook for dinner or any of the usual tasks. They can attend shows, lectures, fitness presentations, cooking classes, and movies. Or, they can lounge on deck with a good book and a view of the horizon (my favorite).
There are several cruise lines who cater to people who would not consider cruising at Christmas or Easter unless they knew there would be services on board. And a few lines even try to provide daily Mass for those whose day would not be complete without attending Mass. Apostleship of the Sea-USA priests are onboard for the spiritual and pastoral care of passengers. They provide the Sacraments to Catholics and do an ecumenical service for Protestants who want to do Sunday worship. And, of course, priests are present if an emergency situation were to develop.
There are several cruise lines who cater to people who would not consider cruising at Christmas or Easter unless they knew there would be services on board.
Columban Father Ron Kelso and I have been friends since our first year in the seminary and were ordained together. We both were on the mission in Japan and celebrated our 50th anniversary of ordination together last year. Father Ron received an Apostleship of the Sea chaplaincy assignment that allowed him to take a guest on a voyage to Spain and invited me to join him.
Because it was a long, slow crossing there were a good few days to get to know the people who attended the daily Masses. There was a couple who were friends of a Columban. Usually, among the passengers, there are a few people who are used to serving as lectors or cantors in their home parishes and are happy to do those roles at the Masses.
A long cruise can be an opportunity to meet new people. One of my favorite quotations is something I heard the famous Peruvian theologian Gustavo Gutierrez say, “If you want to be a missionary, make friends.” Even afloat, one can be making friends.
Columban Fr. John Burger lives and works in the U.S.