This is Wanda Adams' seventh and final report on her weeklong voyage aboard the Norwegian Star cruise ship. She'll file a report summing up her best advice for first-time cruisers and offering a practical guide to this particular ship, in The Honolulu Advertiser's Travel section June 1.

By Wanda A. Adams
Advertiser Travel Editor

NAWILIWILI HARBOR, Kaua'i — Early this morning, we inched our way into this tiny harbor, carefully settling along the length of a dock with just room to spare for a small Matson car barge.

It's Day 6.5 aboard the Star-ship Norwegian, and we're all a bit sad, knowing that tonight we'll be packing (luggage outside the doors by midnight, please, properly tagged to assure that you can find it again).

Tomorrow we'll be off the ship by mid-morning. The crew will be left to complete the frantic three-hour process of refueling, restocking and refreshing the ship for yet another seven-day go-round.

To starboard is the Port of Nawiliwili, gasoline tankers, fallow cane fields and an abandoned sugar mill.

To port are the breathtaking Nawiliwili headlands, tumbling down to the sea.

It's a bit schizophrenic, but very much like this cruise has been: You're drawn into an alternative universe on this floating planet, but all the while you know — whenever you check your cell phone messages (cells generally work as soon as you near port or cruise close to shore) or glance at the itinerary with each day counting down — that there is another universe out there, the workaday one from which you came and to which you must return.

Reflecting back on my pre-cruise essay and my desires and expectations, I'm struck by how every interesting this cruise has been. This may seem like a pallid term but I use it deliberately. I mean that there has been something every day, almost every hour, every minute, to engage my attention and I've been left with much to reflect on.

Of course, mine is a somewhat warped experience of cruising: I've been working every minute in my mind, even when not actually conducting interviews or taking tours.

And this was all new to me; more experienced cruisers no doubt found the whole thing less frenetic. But as a first-timer, you come on board with a list of things you're determined to do and then, once you get on board, find another dozen.

We wanted to try all the restaurants of note and we have. Le Bistro, the French eatery, was our favorite, reflecting our conviction that Norwegian Cruise Lines chefs do best when they stick to classic European cuisine.

I wanted to hit some golf balls and am hoping the rain now falling will let up so I can still accomplish that goal after lunch.

We fell in love with the Reading Room but never managed to read all the books we brought, let alone the ones we borrowed from the ship's library (well-stocked with popular novels, so you might save yourself some luggage weight and just plan to pick up something to read when you get on board).

Our bathing suits are still unwet; the pool area is always crowded and noisy, and we're both so fair-skinned that we've been reluctant to brave the sun. We may soak in the hot tub yet, though.

We saw a pair of shows by the Jean Ann Ryan Company and were favorably impressed; it was flashy and a bit contrived, but very enjoyable. (And just 55 minutes long, so easy to fit in before or after dinner.)

An evening piano recital was also lovely.

We shopped and shopped, in Hilo, Lahaina and Kahului. (Crafters: the Ben Franklin Crafts in Ka'ahumanu Mall in Kahului is da bomb!)

We didn't see Fanning Island, which particularly disappointed Bonnie, who brought gifts from the Punahou School community to the schoolchildren on the island. She plans to leave the duffel of clothes and educational supplies on the ship to be delivered next week.

I spent an incredible morning walking the back streets in Lahaina. It's a town about which I thought I knew a great deal, but I learned still more from the mo'olelo (stories) of tour guide and Friends of Moku'ula activist Ke'eaumoku Kapu. (More on this later in the Advertiser Travel section.)

And I made a friend in Maui cultural specialist Akoni Akana, who confessed to me this morning that he hopped off on Maui yesterday and sped over to Tasty Crust for a plate lunch and home to see his dogs, who missed him.

All of us locals are suffering from serious two-scoops-rice withdrawal. (I ordered rice with my fajitas at Manana Garage last night!) Akana shares my conviction that there could, and should, be more Hawaiian cultural presence aboard ship.

We did manage to see some of the behind-the-scenes operation, the bridge and the kitchens and the elaborate safety and environmental systems on the ship, but we missed "Cirque Asia," the Chinese acrobats show last night — just too tired.

We did spend a little time lounging in deck chairs: Tuesday afternoon, our at-sea day, when we circumnavigated O'ahu, and most early mornings or late evenings on our own balcony. But not enough.

"You can't do everything," people keep saying. But we all want to.

On second thought, Scottie, DON'T beam me up.