In a push to stop what has been characterized as a ``fun ship'' to the island, an alliance of wealthy executives, bankers, lawyers and business professionals fired off a letter to Miami Archbishop John C. Favalora, urging him to call off the voyage.

Have a special Mass in Miami, instead, they pressed.

``This is the church that we have helped build,'' said the exiles, which include key archdiocese fund-raisers. ``Why were we not consulted or allowed to share in this important decision? Why is the hierarchy acting so arrogantly and condescendingly, apparently indifferent to the feelings and opinions of so many church members?''

On Friday, after meeting with the exiles, the archbishop called off the cruise ship to Cuba.

Did he buckle under what read like a veiled threat from power brokers? I don't believe so. That may have been the group's intention, to impose decisive pressure upon him. But Favalora met not only with these critics. For several days, he had meetings with pastors who brought to him messages of concern from their congregations.

I believe he simply chose to deflate the tension mounting around the cruise ship. He knew church efforts to explain the nature of the voyage had failed. The message that this would be a prayerful journey, one without casinos or cocktails or gourmet meals, did little to quiet protests. Plus, ticket sales for the spartan one-night pilgrimage were slow.

It had been the best possible way to transport the Miami faithful to Cuba. Docking an all-inclusive ship at Havana's harbor would leave fewer than $50 per person per day in the hands of the Cuban government, a pittance compared to air-and-hotel-and-restaurant packages. But not even that seemed to matter to those who staged the all-out effort to sink the boat.

In the end, they got what they wanted.

But maybe it's not what they wished for.

While Favalora called off the cruise, he vowed, wisely, to go on with the pilgrimage ``by other means.'' Friday night, church leaders were studying the alternatives. They could charter a jet for a one-day trip. They could opt for a two-day package that would include a hotel stay in Havana.

In any case, this scenario likely will mean more money in the pockets of the Cuban government.

``Do you realize what they have put into Fidel Castro's hands?'' asked Realtor Elly Chovel, a bewildered archdiocese volunteer who was helping to organize a shipboard memorial for refugees who have died at sea.

Indeed, the entire episode has left an empty victory in the hands of the distinguished critics -- particularly this week, as the Nochebuena rush packs Havana-bound flights.

What greater good is achieved by blocking another Cuban's right to pray upon Cuban soil? It is an incongruous gesture from anyone who prizes freedom.

When I heard the cruise ship was canceled, I was reminded of something Monsignor Bryan Walsh told me this week. A respected and important figure in the exile community, he had decided to join the cruise and travel to Cuba for the first time in 34 years.

``It would be a very distressing weekend for me,'' he told me, ``but my own personal feelings don't count.''

The problem with those who criticize the voyage, he concluded, is that they are thinking as Cubans, instead of calling upon higher spiritual values.

``We have to put aside our cultural heritage, our languages, our obstacles and ask what is the good of the church? This is the real sacrifice. We are Catholic first, and Cuban and Irish second.''