Life as a cruise ship priest This in-between status means the on-board priest is neither crew member nor guest but nonetheless quickly attains minor celebrity status, simply by being out and about, escorting excursions and dining with passengers. "People just like to see you around, even if they're not religious," says Fr John. I go on the tours and often there's a great banter. One captain couldn't believe how many people I seemed to know. Liverpool-born Fr John worked for the Inland Revenue as a police officer and for the Royal Navy Reserve before joining the priesthood. "When I was at school I always wanted to go to sea," he recalls. I just didn't know how I'd get there. The route he took after being ordained in 1985, aged 33, was to become port chaplain for Apostleship of the Sea at the Port of Liverpool in 1989, ministering to the crews coming and going on ships, and working in the ecumenical seafarers" centre at the port. He still does this on a weekly basis as well as serving as National Chaplain for Catholic Scouts. Apostleship of the Sea also provides chaplains for cruise lines, and the opportunity to join a ship presented itself in 1990, on P&O's Canberra. Since then Fr John has notched up some 25 cruises. But is the chaplain primarily there for passengers or crew? "Cruise lines may see you as being there to support passengers, but in reality it's both," he says. Passengers need support. Regular cruisers might take a cruise after losing a loved one and suddenly find it difficult once they're on board. Having someone they can talk to makes it easier. And since Fr John's presence keeps the crew happy, too, this enhances the overall cruise experience for passengers. "On P&O Cruises, the crew is largely Filipino and Goan - two groups of devout Catholics - so it makes them happy to see a Catholic priest," he explains. Occasionally, the crew will go and look for a church when they're in port, but for many who work nine-month contracts the only opportunity for confession is when I'm on board at Christmas and Easter. Once Fr John boards the ship, it's all go. "I hold Mass every morning and afterwards people come to visit me," he says. Sometimes they'll ask about quite personal things - marriage problems, for example. They probably feel comfortable doing this as they know they won't see me again. Some even end up returning to the faith after years of absence. Christmas and Easter are special times for everybody on board but are a real bonding experience for the crew, most of whom are separated from their families. "Crew members have their own prayer groups and at Christmas and Easter will form choirs and bands," says Fr John. I hold some of the services for them in the crew mess but everybody, passengers included, loves the big Midnight Mass we hold in the ship's restaurant. I often welcome a congregation of more than 400 people - that's more than you'd get in the average parish. Once passengers and crew have been to Mass together they really engage with one another. For some crew, the presence of a priest brings great comfort. "We held Mass to celebrate the birth of one crew member's baby," recalls Fr John. On the other side of the coin, there might be a bereavement, so I make arrangements to offer prayers. A crew member lost several members of his family back home in a bad road accident. The deputy captain asked me to hold Mass for them, which all the officers attended. It must have been of great support to him. Sometimes it happens that a passenger's partner dies on a cruise. I'll always touch base with the hospital on board when I get on the ship; occasionally, the ship has some very old and ill people. Does he have a favourite ship? "I did love the Canberra, and the QE2 was also wonderful," he says. You can get more involved on the smaller ships. I was Father Christmas on the Canberra and I played guitar with Jim Macleod [the famous Scottish folk musician] and his band. It was less formal and more fun in those days. And after all the confessions and adventures, is there anything about cruise ships and their passengers that still provokes a raised eyebrow? "No," says Fr John. Nothing shocks me now.