[ SUNDAY TRAVEL ]

ROYAL CARIBBEAN CRUISE LINES
The Vision of the Seas, above, leaves Ensenada, Mexico,
and treats cruisers to 11 days of splendor.

Island Cruisin’

A great way to learn the story
and secrets of Hawaii is to
tour the islands by sea

---

By Sweet William
Special to the Star-Bulletin

ONCE BITTEN by the tropical island bug, it's hard to forget a place where life could actually be paradisiacal. The existence of Hawaii -- its abundant food-producing properties, perfect temperatures, cooling breezes and world-famous aloha spirit -- is proof to many that an earthly paradise is a workable concept, one worthy of striving toward. This is why Hawaii keeps getting visited and visited by one sybarite after another. They are called Eden Experimenters, and I, unabashedly, have been one for 26 years.

THE NEXT TRIP Royal Caribbean's cruise to Hawaii lasts 11 days. Departure is from San Diego/Ensenada, Mexico. The ship makes stops on the Big Island, Oahu, Maui and Kauai. Ship: Rhapsody of the Seas Departs: April 22 Arrives: Honolulu May 2 Ship: Vision of the Seas Departs: April 28 Arrives: Honolulu May 8

A great way to learn the story and secrets of Hawaii is to tour the islands by sea, viewing the approach to land much as visitors of the pre-aeronautic age have done ever since the menehune arrived from the Marquesas in the seventh century.

My first contact was a Gone-to-Maui exploratory in 1974. Since then I have made three interisland tours of Hawaii: 1977-78, 1981-82 and a quickie in 1990 -- all by air. When I saw the opportunity to travel from the mainland to Hawaii by sea, I jumped on board, as did 2,141 other passengers (242 of whom were children) and 760 crew members from 56 countries. I was not alone in my lust for sea travel.

Royal Caribbean's cruise to Hawaii -- aboard their (relatively) new (1998) $300 million Vision of the Seas -- spends 11 nights at sea. After a short bus trip from San Diego to Port of Ensenada, Mexico, we board the 915-foot-long, 11-deck, super strata-cruiser. We unpack our bags and that's it, until we arrive at Aloha Tower -- no more cabs, hotel check-ins, packing or restaurant seeking. Touring the Hawaiian Islands by ship is trouble-free, totally passenger-friendly.

Like any travel writer, I have longed for the opportunity to go to Hawaii as Mark Twain, Jack London and James Michener did. I wanted to smell the sea, feel the ocean's heartbeat and invite exposure to elements far beyond one's control. As the Vision sets out to sea, I am in ecstasy.

Day 1

First night out is a little rough, and several passengers lose their appetites. It's nothing like Mark Twain's trip in 1866 aboard the Ajax, a coal-burner he took from San Francisco that experienced days of "plunging waves 'fearfully rolling.'" The Ajax was much smaller than the Vision. It weighed 2,000 tons; the Vision weighs 79,000 tons.

Traveling on a modern cruiser means you have four days to sit on the Top Deck, sunning, pondering the universal navel, until a Caribbean-accented voice asks, "Would you like a mai tai?"

"Why, thank you," I answer, taking one off his loaded tray. All you have to do is show your card and sign; no cash allowed. Day and night, crew members check with you to see if you need anything. After leaving hostile L.A., the ship's hospitality sends me into culture shock. "Why, yes, I'll have another mai tai. And thanks for asking."

ROYAL CARIBBEAN CRUISE LINES
The week-and-a-half cruise means there is plenty of
time to relax by the pool and sip cold drinks.

Jacuzzis are on the Top Deck and in the Solarium, which looks like a posh health club. The sun is tropical hot, the salt air invigorating. Cranial passage ways long closed from urban pollution suddenly pop open. The ocean's motions move mathematically. Night skies, splattered with stars, shine psychedelically.

A testament to the cruise liner's smooth ride is that a significant number of passengers book rooms without windows. Several of these windowless passengers sit at our dinner table. Although they look and act normal, I cannot imagine being at sea and not being able to look out a porthole at night to watch the moonlight dancing on the sea, its chrome-light illuminating the ocean with its celestial spotlight.

Day 2

By the second day no one's sick. Everyone can join in the various shipboard activities. Some passengers attend, some read, some sleep, some jog, some sun. Everyone, though, eats. Eating is the golden constant of cruising.

Food is paid for, it's all-you-can-eat, and it's available in numerous sections of the ship at various times of the day or in your room, where only you and your stateroom attendant will know what you consume.

Day 3

By the third day I had found my meditative spot -- forward table of the Windjammer Café -- high above the bow. Here is the best place to feel the rhythm of the ship and, while being dazzled by the afternoon sun's blinding light, to contemplate life's unfathomable mysteries. For modern philo- sophers Hawaii is a conundrum: Abundance is the norm and work appears unnecessary. Twain saw life in Hawaii simply as "eating of the bounty that no one labored to provide but nature."

Getting a tad too introspective, I decide to attend an enrichment lecture held in the ship's glitzy Masquerade Theater (where two Vegas-style shows are performed nightly). The 900-seat room and balcony are packed.

ROYAL CARIBBEAN CRUISE LINES
The Vision's Royal Suite features a piano and
luxurious lounge and dining areas.

Passengers sit in rapt attention, diligently taking notes as if they were soldiers preparing for a beach landing. Title of the lecture: "Shopping in Hawaii." By contrast, my lecture the following morning about "Capt. Cook's Booty & the Curse of Lono" drew an audience one-tenth of what the shopping lecture drew. In the final analysis, shopping rules.

Day 4

On the fourth day, a sea gull is sighted. The Vision travels around the southern end of the Big Island, clockwise, just as Capt. Cook did in January of 1779. Cook did not know he was arriving at the height of the Makahiki Festival, nor that he was traveling in the same direction that Lono, the Hawaiian god of agriculture and abundance, was supposed to take when making his mythic return. Capt. Cook's arrival, while seen as the reincarnation of Lono by many, eventually backfired on him.

The Vision does not stop at Kealakekua Bay, as Cook's ships Discovery and Resolution did. We drop anchor near Kona-Kailua where the Vision's double-screw launches will motor us to shore. I have not been here since the blue moon of 1978. I wonder what changes I will notice on my fourth interisland tour. Will I still swoon at her beauty? Or will I silently weep, knowing that even though there is an Eden, people prevent Earth from being paradisiacal?

My Kona guide, a former university professor and journeyman carpenter, counsels at-risk school-age youth, which he has been doing for eight years.

Deftly sidestepping the shoppers in their dash for shore, I take the last launch. I see the professor, standing on the dock, waving. He has leis.

It's official: I'm back in the Land of Aloha.

---

>> Next week: Part 2: "Kona: Reliving the Curse of Lono"