Inside the ship. Photos: Fr John Burger SSC
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 feel happy when afloat.
When I was growing up, we lived near the Delaware River in the United States. 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 training, when 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 harbour of Charlotte Amalie was a busy place with cruise ships bringing tourists and sail boats, while small vessels brought produce from the other islands. At first, I thought all those white-painted cruise ships in the harbour were indistinguishable. But after a few months, instead of checking a calendar, I noticed myself glancing at the harbour 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 offshore to exchange the noise and traffic of Lake Shore Drive for fresh air and quiet. I also learned about all the work it takes to keep a sail boat “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 town-house on the north bank of the River Liffey in the city centre and a van that used to collect crewmen from the ships in the outer harbour and bring them into the centre 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 of the United States of America, 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. While some priests may like the idea of a week or more on a cruise ship, I know others who remember being seasick. For that or other reasons, they would consider the prospect about as attractive as jail time.
Today’s cruise ships are like floating resort towns. The most recently constructed ships carry thousands of passengers and crew and offer plenty of entertainment and dining options, shops, casinos, and theatres.
Like the social classes on land, there are two groups of people on a ship - passengers and crew, separate and unequal. The chaplain is in a category somewhere in between.
Some of the other problems we face 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.
Photo: canva.com/welcomia
The passengers are, of course, on vacation and seeking relaxation. They don’t have to do the usual daily chores or think about what to cook for dinner. Instead, they can attend shows, lectures, fitness presentations, cooking classes, and movies. Or they can lounge on the deck with a good book and a view of the horizon (my favourite).
There are several cruise lines that cater to people who would not consider cruising at Christmas or Easter unless they knew there would be services on board. 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 on-board 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 participate in Sunday worship. And, of course, priests are present if an emergency were to develop.
Columban Fr Ron Kelso and I have been friends since our first year in the seminary. We were ordained together and both went on mission to Japan and last year, we celebrated our 50th anniversary of ordination together. Fr Ron received an Apostleship of the Sea chaplaincy assignment that allowed him to take a guest on a voyage to Spain, and he 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, there are a few people among the passengers who are used to serving as lectors or cantors in their home parishes and are happy to take on those roles at the masses.
A long cruise can be an opportunity to meet new people. One of my favourite 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 United States.
Listen to "Messing about in boats"
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