Cruise Drama: Shirley Ballass Diva Behavior Exposed!

Dressed in a glittering diamante suit, which had been bought for  Come Dancing, and with the show’s iconic theme tune blaring out, there was no mistaking that it was head judge on the cruise ship's auditorium stage earlier this month.

Ms Ballas has risked the wrath of bosses by pocketing ‘between five and six figures’ to ‘bring Strictly glamour’ to the ship on a seven-day Norwegian voyage – presiding over a dance competition and scoring contestants with replica paddles – despite strict editorial guidelines that prohibit the Corporation’s talent from replicating or even referencing the ’s content for profit.

But that, I can reveal, is barely the half of it. If the BBC takes a dim view of imitation, quite what it will make of Ms Ballas’s diva-like behaviour on board is anyone’s guess.

I was unfortunate enough to witness it first-hand. Along with a group of other journalists, I had been invited on to the ship by a cruise company to promote its line and, ironically, Ms Ballas herself.

And over those several days, the star – dubbed the 'Queen of Latin' for her decades as a professional dance champion – appeared to make a point of snubbing us. She demanded complete control over what we planned to write, and approval of any photographs. Worst of all, when we refused, we were humiliated and ridiculed in front of the other passengers.

It was shocking and, I’m sad to say, I felt bullied by her.

It’s all the more extraordinary given that, just last week, she was sharing inspirational quotes about kindness on social media, having been open about the years of bullying she endured in the dance industry.

But I saw no evidence of that kindness during our encounters on that ship.

Her hostility towards us was overt from the start, which was surprising given that she had been allowed to approve which journalists and publications were permitted on the voyage.

A source close to Ms Ballas tells me she even recommended a senior journalist from a red-top newspaper be invited. That same paper later ‘revealed’ the new Strictly hosts while we were sailing.

But on the first night of the voyage, at a welcome dinner where we thought we might see the star for an informal drink, she did not make an appearance – even for a brief hello.

That was when the problems started. We were told by her team that, bizarrely, she wanted to approve each word that would be written about her, and the headline. Most shocking of all? She wanted access to each of our camera rolls, so she could ‘approve’ the pictures we may have taken of her on board.

Our response was a firm, but polite, no – as it would be for any celebrity seeking that sort of control. But that was not the last we heard about it.

The following day, we encountered Ms Ballas for the first time during a 30-minute dance class alongside other passengers. We had not yet been introduced as the journalists on board.

At one point, when I was clearly struggling to master the jive, she warmly asked me my name and brought me alongside her at the front to teach me the steps.

But it went downhill from there. I was taken aback when she ordered one man – the husband of a woman in the class, who clearly wanted to capture a treasured moment – to put his camera phone away.

She snapped that we were here to dance and asked him to stop filming her.

I’d been told, Ms Ballas, who was raised by a single mother on a council estate, could be touchy when it came to photographs of her.

Afterwards, she demanded to know who the journalists were in the group – but not so we could have any real time with her, just so she could continue the stand-off about how much of our coverage she could control.

There was a moment later when we thought there might be a good opportunity to break the ice. We’d all been watching an evening acrobatics show, and we ended up leaving directly behind Ms Ballas. When cruise staff started talking to her, we lingered, thinking we could have a chat.

But she ignored us. Standing inches away, she refused even to acknowledge our existence.

We felt so welcomed by the cruise line and the staff on board; it was Ms Ballas and her team who made the experience sour. It was not just a difficult position for us to be in. Throughout the cruise, we sympathised with the staff who were having to experience her unreasonable demands.

Our time with the Strictly judge – or, rather, the lack of it – was to culminate in a photo opportunity at a wider Q&A with fans and passengers the following day.

Leading up to it, the demands to control our words and pictures continued. We remained clear – we would not back down.

The following morning, the other journalists and I were filled with dread going into the auditorium, suspecting Ms Ballas or her team would pull a stunt.

However, what we didn’t expect was to be publicly ridiculed and humiliated by her in front of the audience.

Walking out once again to the Strictly theme song – without the BBC’s permission – Ms Ballas turned her back to us at the front.

During her discussion with the host of the Q&A – the cruise director, who is a comedian by trade – Ms Ballas continuously drew the public’s attention to us in the audience.

It was clear we were being singled out because she had not got her own way.

In one playful exchange, the cruise director made a bizarre joke about Ms Ballas’s Strictly co-star Anton Du Beke taking his trousers off behind the scenes on set.

We all thought the joke a little off-kilter, but Ms Ballas leapt on it as an opportunity to have a dig at the press, pointedly warning us not to twist the words and attribute the joke to her. Not that we would have.

She also fielded questions from the audience, who accused the media of being ‘horrible’ about her and Strictly. Again, it played right into her hands – she pointed down at us, making it clear to everyone who those ‘horrible’ people were, and said: ‘We actually had media here this morning.’

Another tabloid journalist and I agreed that if it escalated further, we would walk out. The only thing that prevented us from doing so was the prospect of walking through an audience that Ms Ballas had turned against us.

She also used her platform that day to voice her displeasure at a headline this newspaper published online. To be clear, the headline was based on remarks Ms Ballas made about her mother, Audrey, who is ill with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. In the interview, Ms Ballas’s exact words were: ‘It’s a slow digression, it’s a slow death.’ They were powerful words, which became the headline.

But in her retelling of it to the crowd, it was the newspaper – not her – who had described her mother’s illness in this way.

It drew gasps, tuts and even the odd boo. It was hugely frustrating. We can only quote what Ms Ballas says, and she had made the choice to speak about her private family matters. Not that she had made that point clear to the crowd.

When the Q&A came to an end, we felt like public enemy number one. And the irony of it all is that we had been invited there to promote Ms Ballas. She had not left us much, if anything, to promote.

The session wrapped up with each journalist posing for an individual picture with the star. We’d been unsure whether that part would happen – she had been refusing to allow it unless we agreed to her demands.

But she’d had to relent. Shaken from the previous 40 minutes, I used this as an opportunity to speak to Ms Ballas about the offending headline. Neither she nor anyone else had been in touch to express any concerns about it, I told her, and I suggested that had someone done so we could have agreed on different wording.

She seemed stunned and embarrassed, as if she had assumed the words she had only recently uttered about my colleagues would have no impact on us.

Of course, I later spoke to my editors and adjusted the headline Ms Ballas had such an issue with.

But if anyone needed proof that words do indeed have an impact, it emerged later that evening.

I was in the bar after what had been a tense day – indeed, her vileness towards us had even reduced a senior member of the cruise staff to tears.

And then an inebriated cruise passenger, knowing I was a journalist, leaned in and threatened to slit my throat. Whether he recognised me from the Q&A was not clear.

While I’m used to a certain level of online trolling, this threat to my life in person left me spooked.