A SENSE OF DISCOVERY AND WONDER ON... AN ALASKAN PASSAGE.

Byline: Story and photos by Eric Noland Travel Editor

YAKUTAT BAY, Alaska - Hubbard Glacier was deep in the throes of geologic reconfiguration, and it was putting on quite a show.

The glacier looked like a wedding cake that had been left out on the patio overnight: cracked, crumbling, tinted blue, streaked with gray. On this particular September morning, it was calving - shedding great chunks of ice in spectacular, thunderous slides.

Picture the sand-castle bluffs above Malibu, but fashioned entirely in porous granules of ice (and about as stable). Every few minutes, there would be an ominous cracking sound, like a tall pine chopped nearly through, then a loud report as a portion of the icy wall gave way and tumbled into the gray-green water below. The bay was littered with ice fragments, some as big as Toyotas.

And this incredible spectacle of natural forces went on and on and on. The glacier, 92 miles long and more than six miles across, is the largest in North America and is one of Alaska's most active.

It is the featured attraction of Holland America's Glacier Discovery Cruise, a seven-night excursion from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Seward, Alaska, that is offered several times between May and September. On this day, many passengers huddled on deck to observe the show, bundled against the 40-degree chill, biting wind and steady, miserable rain.

But not everyone. To get out of the weather for a moment, I ducked through the first door I found, and wound up in the gym. There, a 30ish woman was hurrying to nowhere on a treadmill. Though the room featured a sweep of windows, her machine was turned away from them, and she was gazing catatonically at CNN on an overhead TV.

It was then that a realization struck - or was at least confirmed: The 1,250 or so passengers who book Inside Passage cruises do so for radically varied purposes.

When we left Vancouver on a glistening Sunday afternoon, for example, the skyline was glorious as we steamed under the Lion's Gate Bridge, but I spotted one gentleman who had already commandeered a stool at the Dolphin Bar, his back to the scene. Walking by a stateroom whose door was open, I saw a woman watching a tape of an Ed Asner TV show. And in the gym, yes, that same woman was working out on that same treadmill.

Cruise ships, even those navigating the unsettled, unspoiled splendor of coastal British Columbia and Alaska, have learned to be many things to many people. This one, the MS Ryndam, offered a casino, a spa, a movie theater, two pools (including one with a retractable sunroof), nightly showroom entertainment that ranged from a magician to stand-up comics to a piano-playing devotee of Liberace to a Barry Manilow musical, no fewer than six bars and, of course, the opportunity to eat virtually non-stop - a cruise-industry requisite, it seems.

Activities? Consider just this one hour stretch (2:30 to 3:30 p.m.) on our first full day out: art auction, perfume seminar, European skin care (win a facial!), dance class, Vietnam symposium, cruise crafts with cruise staff, matwork demonstration, jewelry seminar, afternoon tea, Snowball Cash Bingo with Jazzy Jeff.

Those intrigued by the discovery aspect could find much more, though. For many of us, this meant glaciers and fjords, the rugged islands of Canada's West Coast, visits to frontier towns that cling to ledges where forest meets sea, native culture, wildlife and starry nights.

At times, the lavish behemoth that is the cruise ship seems dreadfully out of place for these wild environs, but this is actually one of the best ways to see and experience this region.

Holland America offers other seven-night itineraries along this coast, including northbound and southbound cruises, plus a loop trip that begins and ends in Vancouver. Many visit Glacier Bay.

One noteworthy aspect of my cruise was the line's accommodation of passengers with special physical needs. This trip - late summer, after kids had returned to school - was particularly popular with the elderly, some of whom required wheelchairs, canes or walkers. One of the passengers was a blind woman with a guide dog. Elevators, broad walkways and hand rails enabled them to get around readily.

Many didn't want to brave slippery decks and icy winds on deck, but that didn't mean they missed anything.

Throughout the visit, and at other significant sites, on-board naturalist Carol Zada provided a running commentary over the ship's loudspeaker system. Along a stretch of coastline popular with bald eagles, she alerted us to look for spots of white (the heads) against the green of the pines, and indeed many eagles were visible even without the aid of binoculars.

At most of the port calls - the Alaska towns of Ketchikan, Juneau, Sitka and Valdez - passengers found numerous opportunities for shore excursions, some of which can be booked in advance through the cruise line. As soon as the ship docked, people would hurry off to board a float plane or helicopter for a closer view of fjords or a glacier, board a bus to see native totems or climb onto a boat for a wildlife tour.

One of the latter excursions plied the waters of Sitka Sound, and yielded up-close sightings of sea otters, humpback whales, bald eagles in flight, harbor seals and sea lions.

For those who didn't want to be herded onto tours, the ports were also fun for simple on-foot exploration. This was particularly true in Ketchikan, which features a native-run salmon fishery, an excellent little museum and the town's former red-light district - now a collection of tourist shops and eateries - which still teeters on stilts above a roaring creek in delightfully ramshackle fashion.

Particularly at dinner, most cruise lines like to believe they are offering four-star cuisine. Don't believe it. The fare is good, but certainly not exceptional.

Logistics probably have a lot to do with that. Dinner is served in two seatings, with the entire room getting each course at about the same time. That means, for example, the kitchen must prepare and deliver some 600 entrees simultaneously.

These are hotel-banquet conditions, and soon it seemed advisable to steer away from beef and pork (which are best served right off the grill) and stick with the fresh-fish items, which were consistently good.

Later, a discussion with food and beverage manager Brian McNeill revealed why: Because salmon and halibut are so abundant in these waters, the line buys locally caught fish along the way to supplement the stores put on in Vancouver.

Perhaps the best dining of this trip occurred in one of the most casual settings. At lunchtime one day, the cooks set up charcoal grills poolside and wheeled out beautiful trays of fresh, bright-red salmon filets. The grilled fish that was served a short while later was divine.

The ship became a comfortable retreat for other reasons, too, in that it was easy to get acquainted with other passengers and even crew.

Seating at dinner is assigned, usually in tables of eight or so, and the setting invites conversation. On one of the two formal evenings (don't worry, a sport coat and tie is acceptable), the dynamic was altered slightly by the presence of one of the ship's officers, second engineer Gerry MacMillan of Glasgow, Scotland. Afterward, he and I repaired to the Crow's Nest Bar directly above the bridge, where he regaled me with tales of home while introducing me to Macallan single-malt Scotch.

The cabin, dining room and bar stewards also seemed to warm to the passengers readily. One evening, some of them urged our table group to attend their show. The event turned out to be one of the entertainment highlights of the trip.

The ship operates with an intriguingly multinational division of labor: Dutch and British officers; Indonesian cabin and dining-room stewards; Filipino kitchen, front-desk and beverage staff. All but the officers hire on for 12-month tours, after which they return home for a minimum two-month hiatus before rejoining the ship.

As you might imagine, homesickness can run high. One way it's mitigated is through variety shows presented for passengers. On our cruise, the curtain wasn't lifted on the Filipino Crew Show until almost 11:30 p.m. (when all the various service tasks were completed), but it was a terrific presentation of singing, dancing, stories of homeland legends and even stand-up comedy.

There were more men than women crew on the ship, so some dances - notably the Rice Dance - forced some of the men to perform, hilariously, in drag. At the conclusion, it was particularly moving when the participants, so far from home and on such extended exiles in order to provide for their families, sang national songs and anthems with palpable emotion.

Their duties on the ship keep them so busy that they must rehearse their show between 2 and 4 a.m.

Life on this cruise got progressively more relaxed. The Ryndam runs on diesel-electric propulsion, chief officer Mark Verschoor explained one evening - five small engines run at high speed, driving a generator that powers electric motors; the motors turn the propellers. This reduces the noise and vibration that accompanies conventional propulsion (one large engine turning slowly and driving a propeller). The ship is also equipped with an extensive stabilizing system to smooth out the bumpiness of the ride in rough seas.

Most of the time, the ride was so gentle that a tube of lip balm, left on a night stand overnight, wouldn't have budged at all by morning. The ride was also conducive to napping beneath a wool blanket on a padded teakwood lounger on the broad Lower Promenade Deck.

On this cruise, however, this sense of serenity was abruptly dashed one afternoon south of Juneau when the Ryndam's automatic-steering system malfunctioned and threw the ship into a sharp left turn. The ship, steaming along at close to top speed at the time, listed heavily, which caused glass doors to break and some public rooms to be swamped with water from the swimming pool.

In addition to an epidemic of rattled nerves, a dozen passengers were treated for injuries, and one women bruised ribs so badly that she required hospitalization the next day in Juneau.

For the passengers, the incident was a reminder that this was a craft under power, not simply a lush resort hotel, after all. It was easy to forget sometimes.

The reality was reinforced a couple of nights later when we left the shelter of the Inside Passage's maze of islands and began to rock across miles of open, stormy waters in the Gulf of Alaska en route to Prince William Sound.

Queasy expressions were commonplace. Sickness bags were placed in dispensers in public areas. And attendance at dinner that night was about half normal. Chef Rolando Salazar said the next day that room-service activity had been brisk through the evening, with many requests for soup, hot tea, soft drinks, sandwiches.

Fresh air also seemed to help, even though the weather was not particularly hospitable.

Actually, the Sky Deck had become my favored late-night retreat during this cruise. It was a welcome respite from the clamor of the casino, the bustle of people lining up at the buffet (again?) for the Dutch Chocolate Extravaganza, or the assault of a young woman in go-go boots belting out Karen Carpenter songs in the Vermeer Lounge.

A channel on the stateroom TV continually displayed the ship's position and route, and with the aid of something as simple as an Auto Club map, it was easy to identify islands, waterways and towns that threw off faint light in the distance.

Few other passengers seemed inflicted with the same curiosity.

One evening, that uppermost deck was all but deserted. There were only a few of us to count six lighthouses flashing at various points to mark the perils off Prince Rupert, British Columbia; to see a boat pull alongside the stern, illuminate all of its deck lights and tie up briefly at this oceanbound beast in order to collect the Canadian pilot who had guided us from Vancouver; to gaze at the Milky Way's broad, brilliant canopy overhead; to marvel at the North Star, holding forth up ahead like a Chevy headlight on high beam.

Now this felt like an Alaskan passage. This was a discovery cruise.

IF YOU GO

ITINERARIES:

Holland America offers numerous seven-night Inside Passage cruises. The sailings begin the first week of May and conclude in late September. Some cruises are one-way trips (both northbound and southbound) between Vancouver, British Columbia, and Seward, Alaska. Others are loop trips that originate and end in Vancouver. Costs range upward from about $1,200 per person, double occupancy, and include meals (alcohol extra).

< PACKING LIST:

--A necessity for every passenger is a pair of binoculars. If a standard pair is too bulky, consider picking up compact opera glasses. When searching for bald eagles or harbor seals, or even when checking out a tiny settlement along the shore, you'll find them indispensable.

--Summer weather in Alaska can be subject to dramatic swings, so another critical item is a sturdy, rain-resistant parka; consider Gore-Tex, which packs well. Get one with a hood - an umbrella won't serve you particularly well when the wind is blowing across the deck.

--Maps of British Columbia and Alaska - the Auto Club ones are fairly detailed - will help you keep track of your surroundings as you proceed along the coast.

--The ship has coin laundries, and you might want to wash a few items on the trip, so it's advisable to bring along a plastic container of detergent and a roll of quarters.

< INFORMATION: Information on Holland America cruises can be found at [phone]. Web: www.hollandamerica.com.

CAPTION(S):

3 photos, box, map

Photo: (1 -- color) Passengers of Holland America's MS Ryndam huddle on the rain-slicked bow as the ship eases toward Hubbard Glacier, the featured attraction of an Inside Passage cruise.

(2 -- 3) During an Inside Passage cruise, life on the Lower Promenade Deck of Holland America's MS Ryndam proceeds at a leisurely pace. This is a popular spot for walking, reading and napping. At left, a cruise ship ties up at Ketchikan along Alaska's southeartern shore. Ketchikan, a former frontier settlement, is carved into a hillside, hemmed by thick pine forest and islands.

Box: If you go (see text)

Map: Alaska