My first impression was: Looks like what would happen if the Moana Hotel hosted a national political convention. It was the combination of balustrade and bunting that did it.

I am speaking, of course, of the Pride of America, Norwegian Cruise Line's newest ship, which completed its inaugural voyage July 22 and is now doing a regular, seven-day round in the Islands.

I have yet to sail aboard the first new U.S.-flagged cruise ship in nearly 50 years, though I've heard good reports on the food and service from those who did. But I did put some good wear on my Mephistos the week before last, trailing a guide on a press tour of five of the six public decks, plus a cabin floor.

After my eyes adjusted to the riotous color scheme, I did see much of interest, including some new technology, an impressive health center and spa and well-designed family-focused suites.

Cruise-ship interior decoration belongs to the school that generates Las Vegas showrooms and Disneyland attractions. All favor colors that do not occur in nature, man-made materials that don't fool anyone for a minute and thematic elements that have only a tenuous relationship to reality.

In what is certainly meant as a compliment to the host country, the Pride of America is a riot of red, white and blue (and silver and gold, and stars and stripes). A bust of George Washington looks down from an alcove onto the Capitol Atrium (the main lobby) on Deck 6. The Great Seal of the United States of America is woven into the carpet there. Gold-topped Corinthian columns rise to the ceiling.

Between the grand staircases, a reproduction of the Washington monument in glass with green lights inside (I am not making this up) sits in a reproduction of the White House Rose Garden. Behind that is a reproduction of the carved stone walls of the White House. The John Adams Coffee Bar is across the hall. That'll be a decaf macchiatto with soy milk, Mr. President.

But the designers did exercise restraint in a few spaces, and these appealed most to me.

I was sorely tempted to "accidentally" get left behind in the S/S America Library on Deck 6, one of the largest at sea. (Every public room on the ship is named and themed to some event or place in American history. This one recalls the steamship America; it displays memorabilia and artifacts from that ocean liner.) The room is invitingly decorated in deep reds, browns and oranges, lined with glass-fronted cases of books and outfitted with writing desks and comfy chairs.

The least-flamboyant of the restaurants delighted me: This is the 88-seat Jefferson's Bistro on Deck 5, recalling Thomas Jefferson's home at Monticello and his time as U.S. minister to France (1785-'89), with well-made reproductions of period portraits, soft blues and shades of rose, gorgeous real china chargers (under-plates) and many paned windows. Save me a table, please.

Predictably, the Napa Wine Bar on Deck 6 was another favorite with its walls and floors of stone, leather upholstered couches, muted sage and buff colors and more than 100 wine selections. Pinot, anyone?

The media group was visibly impressed by the Sante Fe Fitness Center and Spa on Deck 12, exclaiming over everything from the size of the workout floor to the Southwest-inspired art on the walls of the Mandara spa. The wood-floored Fitness Center has — by my pace-count — more than 30 feet of treadmills, stationary bikes and rowing and step machines lined up along one wall with a view out to sea, along with strength-training equipment arranged before a mirrored wall and TV monitors to keep boredom at bay. There's also a private Pilates and aerobics room.

Also for exercisers, the South Beach Pool on Deck 11 is actually two somewhat narrow pools end to end, flanked by four hot tubs. There's also the Oasis Pool on Deck 12, meant to be a quiet place for grownups.

The Santa Fe Spa's 14 treatment rooms are warmly, if somewhat confusingly, appointed, in New Mexico and Indonesia motifs (Mandara originated in Bali). I couldn't help noticing, however, the tiny orchids in bowls below the massage tables: They were artificial, of course, as was every plant we encountered, including all of those in the glassed-in space they're calling a conservatory.

You're wondering, perhaps, about the Hawai'i element? It's there in the Kumu Cultural Center — a series of glass cases on Deck 6 celebrating various eras in Island history — as part of a Polynesian stage show performed during seven-day voyages, and in classes such as hula, lei-making, lauhala-weaving and tattoo history. There are also many local employees (all wear tags identifying their hometown).

The Aloha Cafe is an indoor-outdoor buffet with a tiki-bar theme and lots more fake flowers. NCL is buying some local food products and recruited Island chefs to design seven menu items for the main restaurants. But I'm told by a colleague who took the overnight charity cruise July 22 that the only way to get steamed white rice is to flag down a local-looking employee and hope they've got time to go find you some (from the employee dining room?).

In short, Hawai'i's still mostly outside the porthole rather than inside the ship, just as it was when I sailed aboard Norwegian Star a couple of years ago.

Speaking of the Star (no longer in Hawai'i service), you may be wondering about comparisons.