We all lined up outside the grand salon in black tie formal attire to meet Captain John Warwick.

The invitation to be a chaplain on the QE2 Christmas cruise came on Dec. 17. The ship would sail from the Port of Miami Dec. 22, could I possibly make it on such short notice? You bet I could! The representative of Cunard emphasized the need to bring a tuxedo. "There will be six black tie evenings," she insisted.

When the social director announced, "The Reverend and Mrs. Robert Libby," I clasped the captain's extended hand and said, "I'm your vicar."

"But you don't look like a vicar," was the captain's quick comeback. Somewhat red in the face, I left Lynne on a couch and bounded down seven flights of stairs to our cabin on the five deck and returned (by elevator) to the reception sporting my best clerical collar.

"Now, you look like a vicar," the captain said with a wink, and from that point we got along just fine.

The captain and his crew had not left the celebration of Christmas entirely in the hands of his chaplains. There had already been one evening of caroling on the voyage from New York to Miami. On Dec. 23 there was a full-fledged service of Lessons and Carols with the readings by the ship's officers. On Christmas Eve, there was an early caroling service and on Christmas morning, the "Captain's Ecumenical Service," which was Matins straight out of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.

The Roman Catholic chaplain had a midnight Mass and I celebrated a Christmas morning Eucharist. He and I conducted a well-attended Christmas Eve service for the mainly Filipino kitchen and cabin crew. I had been invited to read the gospel and preach, but was then asked to concelebrate, receive and administer communion and give the benediction. Following the celebration Fr. Nee, a veteran of many Cunard cruises, observed, "Asiatics tend to be very religious when away from home, while just the opposite is true for Americans and Europeans."

We obviously had a good thing going and worked closely together throughout the cruise. While we each had our own Sunday services, on days at sea we jointly conducted a "Religious Forum," which competed fairly successfully with bridge lessons, lectures by Alvin Schuster of the the Los Angeles Times, courses on how to play the stock market and, of course, the gambling tables and slot machines.

Our forum led to many followup counseling sessions, both formal and informal. There were also pastoral visits to the infirmary. Imagine paying for two weeks on the QE2 and ending up spending most of it below deck "in hospital" with pneumonia. We had one on-board death of an elderly gentleman who had a long history of heart problems. The medical team was incredibly efficient and "did everything they could." There was also a member of the crew whose father in South Africa died. She caught a direct flight from Miami and would return to the ship in Los Angeles.

According to the fax edition of the New York Times, holiday cruises were up some 15 percent with some 218,000 bookings. About 20 percent of our passengers were non-English speaking with Germans and Japanese heading the list. Of the remaining 80 percent about half were of retirement years and many had a long history of "cruising on the Queen." One gentleman from England claimed that he had spent the equivalent of four years on the QE2. Others found it a different way to do Christmas. "When your children are all grown and scattered around the world, this is a good way to spend the holidays," one person said. New York Times, holiday cruises were up some 15 percent with some 218,000 bookings. About 20 percent of our passengers were non-English speaking with Germans and Japanese heading the list. Of the remaining 80 percent about half were of retirement years and many had a long history of "cruising on the Queen." One gentleman from England claimed that he had spent the equivalent of four years on the QE2. Others found it a different way to do Christmas. "When your children are all grown and scattered around the world, this is a good way to spend the holidays," one person said.

There were a surprising number of young couples with children. The ship has "child-minders" for the little children and a club house with a "coach" for the older ones. There were also starry-eyed newlyweds, on the dance floor and strolling on the decks at all hours of the day and night.

Speaking of romance, on New Year's morning we held an ecumenical renewal of marriage vows for some 12 couples who were celebrating an aggregate of 400 years of marriage.

More than half our days were spent ashore. For an Episcopalian, it was an education in missionary history, as the Anglican Church is the dominant religious presence in most of the English-speaking islands. An exception is Dominica, with a mixed French and British heritage. "We got our religion from the French and our sports (cricket) from the English," said our cab driver. We visited St. Thomas on Christmas Eve, were greeted by a steel band pounding out familiar carols, and discovered All Saints' Cathedral, where a committee was frantically decorating for the midnight service, which would be the first use of the rebuilt church, completely destroyed by Hurricane Marilyn in 1994.

Barbados, the crown jewel of the West Indies, has a population of 250,000, 70 percent of which is Anglican. A stroll through Bridgetown, whose skyline is dominated by St. Michael's Cathedral (founded in 1666) and Parliament will explain why it is known as "Little England." The literacy rate is 98 percent and the University of the West Indies includes an Anglican theological school.

On the last night of our voyage our entertainer was Lucie Arnaz. She said her dad had always talked about Cuba, but that she had never been there. When she realized that our ship, while gliding in the channel between Cuba and Haiti, would come within 12 miles of her father's homeland, she went up on the top deck and sang her childhood songs in honor of "My dad, Desi Arnaz."

Reflecting on the experience of being a cruise ship chaplain, it struck me that it was something of a cross between parish priest and summer camp director. Another shipboard discovery was that the afterdeck is a great place to read Morning Prayer while the wake of the ship seems to sing "Morning is broken, like the first morning," or "When Morning gilds the skies my heart awakening cries, may Jesus Christ be praised." o

The Rev. Bob Libby of Key Biscayne, Fla., is a frequent contributor to TLC.