We went to the Caymans on one of those cruises

by Bernard Casserly

We were breaking our fast (or was it lunch?) in a high-ceilinged dining room looking out across the sunlit blue Caribbean far from the snows of Minnesota, and I was bragging, as is my custom, about our six wonderful children. The year 2001 marked our 50th wedding anniversary, I explained, and our one-week February getaway was a gift from our kids!

You’ve heard of the Caymans, of course. Switzerland by the Sea. All banks and beaches. After our stop, one of our meal-time companions reported he had visited one of the British colony’s 49 banks to open an account. He was turned down. The minimum deposit was $150,000!

Our cruise was a luxury vacation, but I could not resist looking for a story. No sooner had we unpacked than I headed for the information area midships on Deck 7. Where is the ship’s chaplain, I asked. No chaplain, I was told. No chaplain for 1,800 passengers and a crew of 700, I asked. No sir, Norwegian Cruise Lines does not carry a chaplain unless the trip lasts more than 14 days. No purser either, I mumbled to myself. What’s happening on today’s cruise ships?

Turned out there was a chaplain on board! A Catholic priest offered Mass in the "Observatory" on a forward deck at 8 every morning as well as other priestly services. The Reverend Rafael Torres, a tall, handsome Redemptorist, was born in Puerto Rico, where he was ordained in 1942. After years of pastoral service in Puerto Rico he founded a House of Formation in Santo Domingo, studied in Mexico and the United States, and most recently did parish and seminary work in West Africa.

I don’t know what deal Father Torres had made with Norwegian Lines, but he was one frustrated chaplain. His stateroom door was open, but no one came calling. He was not surprised when I told him that the ship’s office said there was no chaplain on board. When I tried to reach him after seeing his name in the ship’s daily bulletin, the office would not give out his phone or cabin number. He was ignored after volunteering to meet with the crew, he said. And planning for a marriage renewal ceremony was a mess.

I told Father Torres I was interested in more than doing a story about his work. I had written a column years ago about the Reverend Joseph Baglio, an old friend who became a "Love Boat Priest" after having to give up active priesthood because of heart problems. Father Baglio had sailed as a chaplain on some 200 cruises on 19 ships for 11 different lines.

Father Baglio is dead now, I told Father Torres, but he continued to promote two goals in his last years. "I recommend being a cruise chaplain as a retirement activity for priests every chance I get," he told me once. And Father Baglio was concerned about the number of cruise ships sailing out of U.S. ports without chaplains. "Shipping lines don’t like to give up a single stateroom," he said.

Our cruise liner seemed to be one of those ships. I guess it’s too late, however, to ask for a chaplain after going on board. Everyone asking a travel agent about a cruise, and many of us are retirees and senior citizens, should ask to have a chaplain provided.

You’ll thank God for a ship’s chaplain if you get so deathly seasick you’re afraid you’re going to live.

Bernard Casserly is a veteran religious press writer and an emeritus editor of the Catholic Bulletin, St. Paul.