I wasn’t planning to write about the mess, mostly because I’m not someone who thinks a lot about food.

I don’t live to eat, and often I’m just eating to survive. I don’t have strong preferences, and I can be a little picky sometimes.

But the truth is, the mess – our crew dining area – takes up more time in my day than I realise. The mess is just one of the shared spaces onboard, alongside the crew bar, and recreation rooms, but it’s also where I eat, sit, think, scroll, zone out, people-watch, or sometimes just escape the noise outside.

So even if I’m not passionate about food, I do have things to say about the space where we eat.

Here’s what the mess is like onboard…

What is the Mess?

On cruise ships, the mess is where crew members eat. It’s short for “mess hall” or “mess room”, not a description of the state of the place – though depending on the time of day, it can live up to both meanings.

You might wonder, why is it called a crew mess? The term evolved from old meaning “a portion of food”, or “a dish”, and then came to signify a group of people who ate together in naval tradition. The name continues to refer to common dining and social area, even on modern passenger vessels.

There are usually two main types: the crew mess and the officer mess. Some ships might have a third called the staff mess, but that’s not something I’ve personally seen.

Who eats where depends on your position. I had officer privileges, so I ate in the officers’ mess (often referred to as OM). But some of my friends and coworkers sometimes ate in the crew mess, and I’ve spent time in both.

The crew mess is more crowded, with long tables and long queues during peak hours. The officer mess, in contrast, is smaller and tends to be quieter.

Both spaces are cafeteria-style, self-service buffet setups. You grab a tray, line up for food, and sit down at the tables provided. There’s usually a drink station, a microwave, a salad bar, and trays of food that rotate each meal. The officers’ mess might be a bit better equipped or a little more comfortable, but the basic function is the same.

Still, even in such a utilitarian space, a lot of everyday life happens. It’s where you eat, but also where you zone out between shifts, run into coworkers from other departments, or just sip coffee until your break is over.

What’s the Food Like?

One undeniable perk is that food is provided free for all crew – a definite pro of working on a cruise ship, even if it doesn’t always suit everyone’s taste. The food in the messes reflects the nationalities of the people who work onboard.

You might wonder, why is it called a crew mess? The term originally meant “a portion of food” or “a dish,” and in naval tradition it came to refer to a group of people who ate together. Over time, it also came to mean the shared dining and social space itself, a definition that still holds on modern passenger vessels.

On the ships I worked on, which sailed mainly in Asia under an Asian cruise line, most of the rank-and-file crew were from the Philippines, India, Indonesia, Nepal, and China. Naturally, the crew mess leaned heavily towards Asian food: rice dishes, curries, stews, stir-fries, fried chicken, and sometimes instant noodles or congee for breakfast.

The officers’ mess, offers a different variety. Since many of the bridge officers were Scandinavian, often Swedish or Finnish, the food tends to be more Western: pasta, potatoes, grilled meats, roasted vegetables, and cold salads. That said, there was often a mix. It wasn’t uncommon to see both Western and Asian-style soups served side by side, or the occasional rice and curry option in the officers’ mess too.

Food routines and mess styles can vary across cruise lines. On other ships, where the crew demographics are different, the menus might reflect entirely different culinary influences.

Menus typically rotate weekly, so meals can feel repetitive after a while. Leftovers are often reused. Something from dinner might reappear at supper in a different form.

Quality also varies. Some meals are great, others feel like filler. But every now and then, there’s a surprise – maybe ice cream boxes are opened, a fried chicken day, or a dish that suddenly reminds you of home.

For crew who want to share their thoughts about the food, there’s usually a small comment box near the exit for feedback or dish suggestions. Whether you’re craving something from home or just want to see more fresh fruit, the kitchen team does check it.

Those with access to both messes sometimes hop between them depending on mood or cravings. But for most crew, your assigned mess is where you’ll eat every day of your contract, and that daily experience can shape how you feel onboard.

Rules and Etiquette

During crew orientation, one of the first spaces you’re introduced to is the ship crew mess. Some rules are clearly stated from the start, others you learn by watching how others behave. Most of them come down to hygiene, respect for others, and the practical logistics of feeding hundreds of people who all work very different shifts.

At the entrance, you’re expected to wash your hands before handling any food or utensils. Hygiene is taken seriously onboard, and it starts here.

Dress code matters too. No tank tops, shorts, or slippers. If you work in coveralls (common in engine and technical teams) you’re not supposed to sit down in the officer mess and eat in them. Most just pick up their food and bring to the crew mess, usually in one part of area. Outside meal hours, some rules may be more relaxed, but hygiene remains a priority.

Taking food out of the mess isn’t allowed unless you have specific permission, like if you’re in cabin isolation. Otherwise, meals are meant to be eaten where they’re served, again for hygiene reasons.

Meal hours are fixed and enforced:

Officer mess:

Breakfast: 06:00–09:00
Lunch: 11:00–14:00
Dinner: 17:00–20:30
Supper: 00:00-02:00

Crew mess usually opens about 30 minutes earlier for each meal slot, to accommodate crew working different shifts.

Depending on the ship, supper may be served in both messes or only in the crew mess, with priority given to night-shift crew.

crew supper — A Malaysian supper on the menu

Crew meals are served buffet-style, so you’ll sometimes find yourself waiting in line, especially during peak meal times.

Lunchtime is the busiest, particularly around noon when most departments take their break. It’s not just noisy, it’s crowded. You might queue to wash your hands, queue again for food, and later to return your tray. Tables fill up fast, and you may have to share with people you don’t know well.

Some crew don’t mind it. I usually avoided peak hour when I could. My team rotated our breaks, so I often ate alone. I’m also a slow eater, and quieter times just made things easier.

Speaking of which: seating can feel territorial. Some people always sit at the same table, with the same group, and though there’s no assigned seating, you’ll feel it if you accidentally take someone’s unofficial spot.

In the officer mess, there’s often a designated table for the captain – a little nicer, maybe with a tablecloth and condiments already set. I sat there as a trainee, not knowing any better. Nobody said anything, but I never made that mistake again, unless all other tables were full.

And finally, everyone is expected to clean up after themselves. Return trays and dishes, throw away food scraps, wipe down the table if it’s messy. It’s basic courtesy.

When Things Get Annoying

You don’t expect fine dining in the mess, but some days it can really test your patience.

For one, food can get repetitive. Since my team rotated meal breaks, we’d often ask whoever went first, “What’s for lunch?” Sometimes the answer was a dramatic “Nothing” (crew humour at its finest). I wasn’t much better. My usual response was, “Rice, chicken, fish.” Not very inspiring, but then again, I often skipped the supposedly delicious dishes in favour of something simple and healthy.

Food running out is rare, but it can happen if there’s a clear crew favourite. Fried chicken day, for example, has the power to empty trays faster than anything else. The galley usually refills dishes when this happens, but if you arrive in the final minutes before closing, you might get the less appetising leftovers.

Options for specific dietary needs can be limited. Depending on the ship, there might not be a consistent range of vegetarian or halal dishes. People who follow those diets often adapt by bringing their own snacks or relying on the safest staples – rice, fruit, or salad.

Things That Make It Bearable

Some crew make the mess more enjoyable simply by bringing their own little upgrades. Sambal, chili oil, or seasoning bottles can transform a plain meal into something you actually look forward to.

A fixed eating schedule also helps. If you know when you’re eating, you can plan your day around it, avoid peak-hour chaos, and save yourself from both the queues and the noise.

Then there’s the company. Sitting with a group of good coworkers can make even a mediocre meal pass quickly and pleasantly. Shared stories and inside jokes tend to taste better than anything on the plate.

And every so often, the mess serves up something special.

On my ships, we had a monthly food upgrade. Once a month, the menu would get a little extra attention, with better ingredients or a special dish.

There are also occasional themed meals or celebrations, like Mother’s Day, a holiday spread, or food from a specific country, and the atmosphere shifts completely.

On those days, the kitchen staff go the extra mile, decorating the mess or breaking away from the usual rotation.

When that happens, the mess doesn’t just feel like a place to eat. It feels like a small reminder of the world outside work.

The mess is more than food. It’s a reflection of life at sea: structured, hierarchical, and precise. Rank shapes where you sit, routine dictates when you eat, and restraint keeps everything in order.

It also teaches you things: about privilege, about adaptation, and about what people can get used to.

And sometimes, it reminds you to find joy in small things – a piece of fried chicken, a scoop of ice cream, or a meal that feels like home.