ON ISLAND TIME IN CORONADO; HOTEL DEL AND ONE FABULOUS BEACH FORM THE APPEAL OF THIS SAN DIEGO RETREAT.

Byline: Eric Noland Travel Editor

In an era when vacation, for most Americans, meant Sundays off, a couple of entrepreneurs from points east stood on the edge of San Diego Bay, peered out at two desolate islands that lay offshore, and envisioned a site that would exist solely for leisure.

Obviously, they were onto something.

There have been 111 years of tourism evolution since that time, and Coronado got it all right. It's a peninsula now, but it retains its island feel, and it has justifiably earned a distinction as one of the most desirable travel destinations in Southern California.

Coronado is beach - 28 miles of broad, white beach, the result of decades of dredging of San Diego Harbor to make room for Navy ships. It is bike paths and sailboats in a sheltered bay and tiny cottage architecture and numerous sidewalk cafes.

It is also an ancient, elaborate, wedding cake of a hotel on the beach, the enduring symbol of what got all of this started in 1888 - the Hotel del Coronado.

Visitors, whether they arrive by ferry or the towering sweep of a bridge that connects Coronado to downtown San Diego, are drawn to the quirky Hotel Del as if by some unseen force. Its Victorian touches and distinctive, red-shingle turrets present one of the most photogenic structures in the West - which might explain its prominence in such movies as ``Some Like It Hot'' and ``The Stunt Man.''

In its youth, it was the exclusive province of the filthy rich, captains of commerce and mavens of high society who nurtured their fortunes in the Northeast - but weren't foolish enough to spend their winters there.

Its design would never gain approval for an oceanfront resort today. It faces south, sideways to the brilliant blue of the Pacific Ocean to the west. Its lobby is ornately paneled - walls, ceiling, grand staircase - in dark-stained oak, and only an occasional glint of indirect sunlight can penetrate the cavern. The focal point for most of the rooms in the original building is not the infinite sweep of sea but a central garden court. Century-old redwood timbers creak beneath your feet when you walk, and hallways sag this way and that.

All of this, however, only serves to heighten the romance of the Del, which is registered as a National Historic Landmark. To stay here is to immerse yourself in the elegance of a departed era.

There is plenty of room for the present, though. A modern tower just south of the original building features rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows, balconies and breathtaking views to the west. The original building, meanwhile, is scheduled for a $50 million restoration beginning this fall. Among other improvements, air conditioning will be added (they'll hide the ducts in the abandoned steam-heat shafts) and the tennis courts that lie between the hotel and the beach will be ripped up and replaced with a Grand Lawn.

The Hotel Del was built long before the development of - or desire for - sunscreen, in-line skates or anti-cellulite spa wraps. It's certainly done a commendable job of adapting to the changing tastes of its clientele.

The priceless archival photos displayed on the third floor show guests embarking for a walk on the beach in spectator shoes, three-piece suits and ankle-length dresses. The hotel's History Gallery also chronicles the lavish dinner held in 1920 for the Prince of Wales, when Edward may or may not have been introduced to a Navy officer's wife - she was the future Wallis Simpson, whom he would ultimately forsake the crown to marry.

Today, you're more likely to see youngsters trooping through the corridors in wet bathing suits and sandy feet, and boogie boards propped up against balcony railings to dry. The Del, despite room rates that range upward from about $205 nightly, seems to attract an astonishing number of families.

The parents may reflect wistfully on the heady events of the hotel's past, but the kids simply can't get over the quality of that beach. They can be found there swimming, riding waves, building sand castles, playing paddle tennis, throwing footballs. And of course never getting tired.

It is an impressive stretch of beach. And to think it came into existence for the sake of industry.

When Coronado was two small chunks of offshore land - islands at high tide, a marshy-edged peninsula at low tide - San Diego Bay was perfectly sheltered but much too shallow for big ships. A major dredging operation was begun at the start of World War II, and it continued for years.

What to do with all that sand scooped from the bottom of the harbor? Why, fill in the gap between the two islands, to begin with. Then keep spreading it in the marshlands and along the western edge until Coronado was a permanent peninsula, connected to southerly Imperial Beach by a narrow spit of land that has come to be called the Silver Strand.

The rearranging of sand has also produced a beach that is much flatter than most of those found along California's southern coast. This reduces some of the treachery of the sea here. Walk 50 feet into the water, it's knee-deep. Walk another 50 feet, it's midthigh. This results in small, gentle waves, ideal for very young beach bums who are just learning to ride some flotation device through the froth.

The beach itself is every bit as flat, such that it's ideal terrain for walkers and joggers. It's not even unusual to see someone pushing a baby's stroller along that firm, damp sand. The ocean washes so gently onto this expanse that sea shells and sand dollars are often deposited here entirely intact.

Perhaps one of the best times for a walk along this beach is at dusk. As the tide works its way out, a thin sheet of water spreads out across this sandy plain. Then the setting sun catches it and turns it into a vast, glistening mirror. So that's how the Silver Strand got its name.

Natural geography also treats this area kindly. Slightly northwest, Point Loma extends a long finger of land along the coast, curled protectively around Coronado. The marine layer tends to smack full into this outer land mass and accumulate against it, leaving Coronado blissfully clear most days (the morning fog usually lifts by 9 o'clock).

Directly across the Silver Strand from Coronado Beach is Glorietta Bay, a crook of sheltered water ideal for polishing up (or establishing) your sailing skills. At Coronado Boat Rentals, they'll rent you everything from a 14-foot Capri sailboat ($25 an hour) to a 30-foot Catalina ($195 for a half day). Dry-land pointers are not provided, but you can hire a captain ($60 for two hours) to get you oriented.

Too ambitious? It might be better to opt for a pedal boat or a kayak, both of which rent for $15 an hour, $40-45 for a half day.

More bay - and still more beach - await to the south, and this strand is best toured on two wheels. A bike path parallels Silver Strand Boulevard on the bay side; a merciful feature, given the frenetic pace of vehicle traffic here. Sunset magazine, in its September issue, included this route among its finest bike rides of the West, and the terrain is so flat you won't need anything more exotic than a one-speed beach cruiser (they rent for $5 an hour, $12 for four hours at Little Sam's, across from the Del at 1343 Orange Ave.). The views of the beach on one side and the bay on the other are so mesmerizing, you almost have to be careful to pay attention to your riding so as to avoid a collision.

While pedaling south, you can't miss the U.S. Naval Amphibious Base, where the Navy trains its SEAL commandos in such pleasantries as underwater demolition and beach reconnaissance. You'll see burned-out hulks of helicopters and other military craft - incongruous in this idyllic setting - and the climbing towers on which trainees scramble up rope ladders.

A series of tunnels connects the bike path with Silver Strand State Beach, which is a gentle ride of about four miles south of the Del and Glorietta Bay.

Back in town, which seems to have put up a spirited fight in keeping chain establishments at bay, it would be easy to while away the hours in one of several sidewalk eateries or privately owned shops.

But Coronado also brims with a colorful history, and it shouldn't be neglected. An excellent way to get a taste of it is to sign up for a walking tour with Coronado Touring. Conducted Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 11 a.m., the tour, which costs $6 per person, offers a fascinating and often-hilarious mix of facts, figures, anecdotes, commentary and local gossip. Phone: [phone] or 435-5892.

(The Hotel Del also offers historical tours of its property, for $10, but that tour was found to be much less satisfying. The befuddled volunteer from the Coronado Historical Association repeatedly confused dates and names, misidentified the wood used to panel the hotel lobby, and thoroughly mangled the mystery of Kate Morgan, the Del's resident ghost.)

For the Coronado Touring program, guide Nancy Cobb first gathered a dozen or so tourists in the music room of the Glorietta Bay Inn, the former mansion of sugar baron John D. Spreckels, a former owner of the Del.

Cobb then held forth for nearly an hour, providing intricate detail of Coronado's growth - and its personality as a community. She revealed with a roll of her eyes that a recent dispute about the lights strung on the trees of Orange Avenue at Christmas - white or multi-colored? - ended up on the ballot in a local election.

The second hour involved a walking loop around the Del (the hotel won't permit the tour inside), along the beach at Ocean Boulevard and through Coronado's back streets, which offer a charming mix of beach cottages and postwar apartment buildings - plus, unfortunately, the blight of overbuilt mansions on cramped beachfront lots.

In a neighborhood that featured three houses dating to the late 1880s, Cobb indicated a small dwelling of Midwest architecture that was the home of author L. Frank Baum when he briefly lived on the island at the beginning of this century.

Baum is known to have completed four of his ``Oz'' manuscripts while living here, and possibly six. In ``The Wizard of Oz,'' he is believed to have based the peaked grandeur of the Emerald City on the turrets of the Del.

It was beneath those turrets that Baum, on winter escapes to Coronado from his home in Chicago, reportedly cut loose with his book fees. ``A partier of the first order,'' Cobb said.

In fact, she continued, this house was built because Baum couldn't seem to get any work done while staying in the hotel. Once he'd complete a manuscript and get his publisher off his back, he'd bolt right back to the frivolities of the Del again.

Anyone visiting this area today can probably empathize with the man.

Coronado was conceived and developed to be a leisurely, seaside retreat, safely removed from mainland realities by the moat that is San Diego Bay. Coronado was never intended to be anything but this, and for more than a century, it really hasn't.

No wonder it's so popular with vacationers today. Work, in this place, almost seems a sacrilege.

IF YOU GO

GETTING THERE: San Diego lies 121 miles south of downtown Los Angeles via Interstate 5. Coronado is directly west of downtown, and can be reached from I-5 by the Coronado Bay Bridge (Route 75). The toll is $1, but carpools of two or more are free; there is no toll on the return drive. Another option is a ferry boat from the Broadway Pier in San Diego Harbor. It departs every hour on the hour starting at 9 a.m. Fare is $2; bicycles 50 cents.

LODGING: The 692-room Hotel del Coronado offers accommodations both in its original building, which dates to 1888, and its modern Ocean Towers, whose rooms were recently redesigned in fabrics and colors reflecting a water theme. The Del also offers several packages (romance, family, marriage proposal, New Year's Eve, etc.). The New Year's 1999 packages, which require a three-night minimum stay, are priced from $1,615 to $7,300 per couple and include a dinner and a party; the hotel reports it has availability in all categories and has sold about half the packages. Also during the holidays, a dazzling Christmas tradition features 30,000 lights strung from the hotel's distinctive roof turrets and along its exterior lines. Reservations and information: [phone] or [phone]. Other options on the peninsula include the Glorietta Bay Inn, the former mansion of sugar magnate and one-time Del owner John D. Spreckels, [phone]; Loews Coronado Bay Resort, [phone]; and the Coronado Island Marriott, [phone].

DINING: An outstanding fine-dining option can be found at Azzura Point, the upscale restaurant at Loews Coronado Bay Resort. The Chef's Menu features a six-course dinner with wines matched to each course by the restaurant sommelier; $100 per person. On a recent visit, the fare included sweet pea risotto, oven-roasted Pacific salmon and herb-crusted loin of Colorado lamb on a warm salad of spinach, olives and roasted peppers. The wines toured the globe from Italy to Austria to Argentina to California's Russian River Valley. Reservations: [phone]. To keep a tighter curb on the budget, there is Island Pasta (1202 Orange Ave.), a casual joint with main courses in the $8 to $12 range and a children's menu. It gets heavy tourist traffic, such that service was found to be a bit overwhelmed and inattentive.

INFORMATION: The Coronado Visitors Bureau can offer information on lodging, dining, recreation, shopping and sightseeing. It has free brochures available. Phone: [phone] or [phone]. Web: www.coronado.ca.us.

CAPTION(S):

6 Photos, box, map

PHOTO (1 -- 2 -- color) The distinctive peaked roofs of the Hotel del Coronado provide inspiration even for architects of sand castles, above. A sunset walk on the the nearby beach reveals how the Silver Strand got its name.

(3) The venerable Hotel del Coronado was constructed around a pastoral courtyard, where guests can enjoy conversation while strolling among tropical plants.

(4) Glorietta Bay, in the shadow of the bridge that connects Coronado to downtown San Diego, is a sheltered cove that attracts novice sailboat skippers.

(5) Bicyclists who head down the Silver Strand on a bay-side bike path find they can get over to the beach through tunnels. This eliminates the danger of dodging traffic on hectic Silver Strand Boulevard.

(6) A number of Coronado homes have been carefully restored, including these two on Loma Avenue that date to 1898.

Eric Noland/Travel Editor

Box: If You Go (see text)

Map: Coronado Island and San Diego