David J. Danto
Travel thoughts in my
own, personal opinion
eMail: ddanto@IMCCA.org Follow Industry News: @NJDavidD on 
Alaska Cruising Part
2 June
2026
As you read this, Helen and I have just wrapped up a
seven-day cruise to Alaska aboard the MS Noordam.
I’ve told readers before that I’m generally not a “cruise
person.” I’ve come to view cruises less as vacations and more as floating
hotels that let you see multiple destinations without repeatedly dragging
suitcases through airports and hotel lobbies like an extra in Home Alone
2. To that extent, I appreciate
them. There were genuinely wonderful
parts of this trip, and there were also parts that made me wonder whether the
hospitality industry has quietly replaced customer service departments with
upsell algorithms.
First, let’s talk about Alaska itself, because that’s
ultimately why you go. The natural
beauty here is almost difficult to process in real time. The coastlines, the snowcapped mountains, the
waterfalls pouring down the cliffsides, the wildlife, the endless streams of
runoff carving through the terrain – it all feels less like scenery and more
like someone forgot to turn off the “epic mode” setting on the planet.
And then there are the glaciers.
For at least thirty years, seeing Alaska’s glaciers has been
on my personal bucket list. In my mind,
I always pictured gigantic Hollywood-style walls of ice crashing dramatically
into the ocean every few minutes like the climax of some disaster movie
narrated by Morgan Freeman. That’s not
really what glaciers look like anymore.
They are still massive, still breathtaking, and still deeply humbling,
but many of them now resemble slow-motion rivers of ice gradually tapering into
the sea. They move with a kind of eerie
calmness. Almost like nature itself
switched into cinematic slow motion.
Some glaciers we visited from land, while others we
approached directly aboard the ship.
Seeing the way the ice carved entire mountain ranges and shaped the
waterways around them was incredible.
The vegetation patterns, the water channels, the scars left behind by
thousands of years of movement – all of it tells a story far bigger than
tourism brochures can capture. I’m
deeply grateful we got to see them while they still exist in recognizable form,
because sadly, that may not always be the case.
Our trip was a seven-day round-trip sailing from Seattle
aboard Holland America. We booked one of
the Neptune Suites, which is their upgraded suite class. The room itself was perfectly comfortable,
and the service staff worked hard throughout the trip. But if you’ve ever experienced something like
Celebrity’s Retreat Class, the Neptune experience feels more like “premium
adjacent” than truly luxury-tier.
Celebrity’s Retreat experience included things like a
dedicated private restaurant and butler-level service. Holland America’s Neptune perks mostly
translated into priority access lines and a few extra amenities. Some of those amenities were genuinely
appreciated. For example, unlike certain
supposedly premium hotel chains and cruise lines that still seem shocked people
own electronics in 2026, Holland America actually put power outlets and USB
ports on both sides of the bed. That
alone deserves a humanitarian award at this point. Complimentary laundry service was also a
genuinely useful perk and one we appreciated more than expected.
That said, there were a number of issues. Our first indication that this may not be the
premium experience we thought we purchased was when we boarded the ship and it
reeked of paint. We appreciate a freshly
painted experience, but not when the odor permeates the ship for half the
trip. The cruise line also managed to
create one of the most aggressively ironic package names I’ve encountered in
travel. We purchased the “Have It All”
package. As it turns out, “Have It All”
apparently means “Have Some Of It, Then Pay Extra For The Rest.”
The entire week often felt less like hospitality and more
like an ongoing negotiation. Drinks
weren’t fully included. Bottled (canned)
water counted against drink quotas as though a can of fresh water somehow
carried the same economic weight as a premium margarita. Somewhere, an accountant is probably very
proud of this policy.
The food was another disappointment. One night’s turkey dinner was honestly worse
than something you’d get at a random New Jersey diner at 2:30 in the morning
while debating life choices over disco fries.
Another evening, after paying extra to dine in one of the ship’s premium
restaurants, both Helen and I ended up with upset stomachs afterward. On a premium cruise line, the food should not
be this inconsistent.
The larger issue, however, was attention to detail.
For example, we booked an 11:15 excursion, only to discover
the night before that we separately needed to reserve a 10:30 shuttle just to
reach the excursion departure point. If
the cruise line is selling both the cruise and the excursion, connecting those
dots should not require passengers to solve what feels like a side quest in a
role-playing game.
Of course, the pinnacle of cruise upselling is those shore
excursions. Drinks, specialty dining,
Wi-Fi packages, and room upgrades are all things the cruise line directly
controls. Excursions are different. The cruise line sells them, markets them, and
profits from them, but when something goes wrong, responsibility often seems to
vanish into the Alaskan fog.
This wasn't our first cruise, so we already knew the basic
rule. Whenever practical, book
independently through companies such as GetYourGuide or directly with local
operators. In this case, however,
Holland America had bundled excursion credits into our package, so we decided
to use them.
One excursion worked out fine. The other became the single biggest
disappointment of the trip.
The tour was called a Wilderness Exploration Cruise and Crab
Feast. On paper it sounded
terrific. We would travel from Ketchikan
to a remote inlet where Dungeness crabs are plentiful, board a sightseeing
boat, watch crab pots being pulled from the water, learn about the local wildlife
and ecosystem, and then enjoy a fresh crab feast (that we caught) for
lunch. Since the ship was only in port
from 7:00 a.m. until 12:30 p.m., it seemed like the perfect way to experience a
slice of Alaska and lunch.
What we didn't realize was that we were essentially cattle in
a very efficient tourism operation.
Multiple cruise ships were in port that morning, all feeding passengers
into what appeared to be a conveyor belt of nearly identical excursions.
The excursion description contained one innocent-looking
sentence: "Tour sequence may vary." We interpreted that to mean we
might see wildlife before crabs or crabs before wildlife. What it actually meant was that they could
completely rearrange the experience.
Instead of taking the boat trip first and then serving the
fresh-catch lunch, they bused us directly to the lodge and presented the
all-you-can-eat Dungeness crab feast at approximately 8:30 in the morning,
shortly after we had finished breakfast onboard the ship.
I love crab legs. I
really do. But I honestly don't know
anybody who wakes up and says, "You know what would really hit the spot
right now? Several pounds of Dungeness crab."
It felt less like hospitality and more like operational
optimization. Feeding passengers first
allowed the facility to process more groups throughout the day, but it made
very little sense from the guest perspective.
The entire thing felt designed to maximize throughput rather than
maximize enjoyment.
Afterward we boarded the sightseeing vessel. The young woman serving as our guide was
pleasant, knowledgeable, and clearly doing her best. Unfortunately, she also appeared to be quite
ill. She had very little voice remaining
and spent much of the trip sneezing into her arm while continuing the
narration. Frankly, I felt more sympathy
for her than frustration. Nobody should
have been asking her to work that day.
She demonstrated the crab pots, brought several crabs aboard
for passengers to examine, explained their anatomy and life cycle, and offered
people the opportunity to hold them.
Under normal circumstances I probably would have. Under those circumstances, I politely
passed. The last thing I wanted was to
spend the remainder of an Alaska cruise wondering whether I had picked up
whatever she was fighting from touching the same crabs.
The most frustrating part came afterward.
We visited Guest Services almost immediately upon returning
to the ship. About an hour later, we
received a call from the shore excursion department. The response was essentially, "We're
sorry you didn't enjoy it, but there's nothing we can do. It's operated by a third party, and the
description says the sequence of events may vary."
That answer perfectly illustrates the problem. When the excursion is being marketed, sold,
and charged to my onboard account, it is apparently a Holland America
experience. When something goes wrong,
it suddenly becomes someone else's responsibility.
If a cruise line is willing to endorse, market, and profit
from an excursion, passengers have every right to expect the cruise line to
stand behind the quality of that experience.
Otherwise, they aren't really selling excursions. They're selling referrals while keeping the
commission. This is the single most
obvious experience for us (and others) to avoid Holland America in the future. But it wasn’t the only issue.
The Neptune Suite program suffered from similar
problems. We were told there would be
priority boarding, priority dining access, exclusive menu items, and other
enhanced services. But almost nobody
onboard clearly explained how any of it actually worked. One supposed exclusive dining option for
Neptune guests (an additional menu item each night) appeared exactly once
during the entire cruise. It felt less
like a polished premium offering and more like a beta test still waiting for
software updates.
There were also a couple of days where the seas became fairly
rough, and the ship rocked more than we would have liked. To be fair, that’s cruising. Nobody boards a ship expecting the inertial
dampening stabilization technology from Star Trek. Still, it did impact the experience at times.
To Holland America’s credit, the entertainment onboard was
generally solid. They clearly invested
in talented musicians and performers, and that effort showed. Some acts were stronger than others, but
overall the entertainment team did a commendable job.
I also suspect some of the shortcomings may simply reflect
the age and size of this particular ship.
Larger and newer vessels in the fleet may offer more refined
experiences. But operational
inconsistency and lack of detail management usually reflect broader
organizational culture, not just the age of the carpeting.
Ultimately, though, Alaska itself overwhelms most of those
complaints.
If seeing glaciers and this extraordinary part of the world
is on your bucket list, I would absolutely encourage you to go sooner rather
than later. The experience is worth
it. The scenery is unforgettable. And despite my criticisms, we feel incredibly
fortunate to have made this trip and to have seen places like Mendenhall
Glacier, Dawes Glacier, and Endicott Arm in person. I highly recommend the trip – just not on
Holland America.
There are simply some experiences that photographs,
documentaries, and giant television screens can’t fully replicate. Standing there watching ancient rivers of ice
disappear slowly into the sea is one of them.
And yes, one final observation remains true on every cruise
I’ve ever taken: apparently having a completely unintelligible accent over a
loudspeaker is still a mandatory qualification for becoming a cruise ship
captain. I assume maritime academies
actually teach this now.
After decades of candid travel commentary – from loyalty
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The site also has my honest and snarky takes on technology trade shows. Take a look at Tinyurl.com/TechAndTravelWear. Even if you’re not buying
they’re fun to read and commiserate – and if you do buy something, maybe I’ll
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see, just email me and I’ll add it.
This article was written by David Danto and contains solely his own, personal
opinions.
All image and links provided above as reference under
prevailing fair use statutes.
Copyright 2026 David Danto
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As always, feel free to write and comment, question or
disagree. Hearing from the traveling
community is always a highlight for me.
Thanks!