The Webster Dictionary defines wilderness as an "uncultivated, uninhabited region". Most of Alaska fits that definition in spades, even the skinny strip of southeastern coastline quaintly nicknamed the Alaska Panhandle. This is Alaska's Inside Passage, a perfect "10" for safe, intimate exploration with the shoreline at eye level and hand touch.

Alaska is the largest state in the USA with more miles of coastline than all other 49 states combined. It also borders two oceans, and is wider (including its chain of islands strung out across much of the North Pacific Ocean) than the entire continental United States.

Alaska's land surface is more than twice the size of Texas, yet only 600,000 people living in the entire state. If New York City had the same population density as Alaska, there would be only 16 people living in the Big Apple.

Glaciers cover approximately 29,000 square miles or 5% of Alaska. This is 128 times more than in the rest of the US. There are an estimated 100,000 glaciers in the state, the most visually accessible being dozens of tidewater glaciers.

The state fossil? How could it be anything but the woolly mammoth?

                                        A Cruise West small ship idles close to rocks favored by Alaska's Steller sea lions.

To truly appreciate the distinctive features of uncountable Inland Passage islands and inlets, it is imperative to do some serious gunkholing in this invitingly crenelated landscape. For landlubbers, that awkward, almost rude-sounding word translates as leisurely, unprogrammed exploring with a quiet anchorage at the end of the day where the ship's anchor sinks into soft mud, or "gunk". Last summer in the Land of the Midnight Sun, it seemed the right time to become an Alaskan gunkholer.

In the past, my husband, Peter, and I had done the large cruise ship thing and enjoyed it as a once-only mission, sailing majestically the full length of the British Columbia and Alaska coast day and night when not in port, keeping strictly to a schedule that had us smoothly docking at selected ports in concert with other equally large cruise ships. Only with such precision timing could we depart the ship in organized droves for a checklist of shore excursions and still be back on board in time for drinks, dinner and dazzling evening entertainment. Alaska's islands and islets swept by in a blur, and only the largest marine mammals would be announced if they were easily spotted from the deck and if lunch was not being served. The concept of spontaneous detours did not exist, nor did safe sailing of any but the widest and deepest channels with a world famous glacier to tantalize passengers at the end.

When we signed up for Cruise West's Wilderness Inside Passage nine-day exploration of the Panhandle's inlets, islands and glaciers, we were both craving a little pristine wilderness on a small enough, quiet enough, flexible enough yet comfortable enough ship to experience Alaska a little closer to reality than the three million large-ship cruise passengers who visit the state each year.

Instead, we wanted to sneak up on a few furry shoreline critters like bears, wolves and coyotes, and the always-illusive mountain goat clinging with suction-cup feet to impossibly narrow rock ledges. We wanted to touch 200-year-old ice flows that had, just hours before, calved away from their mother glaciers, and feel the spray of sky-high waterfalls spilling over ice-scored rock formations into the sea. We wanted to set off from the ship in Zodiacs with no idea of what we would spot in seldom-visited inlets, maybe do a little beachcombing, and drift quietly with engines off in the midst of whatever marine wildlife proved curious enough to check us out at close quarters.

Alaska's state capital, Juneau, was the beginning and end of our adventure. We set sail from the city's picturesque harbor in late afternoon, cruising out of the Gastineau Channel and heading for nighttime anchorage several hours and several inlets away. As the crow flies, it wasn't that far from the seat of government, but in reality we had entered a very different world.

Over pre-dinner drinks in the forward lounge, we covered the nuts and bolts of the trip - first, an introduction of the captain and crew, and a day-by-day overview from our lively expedition leader, Merriweather Gill, a marine biologist lately returned from three years of tracking humpback whales in Hawaiian waters. We learned that there were no keys to our small but efficiently-planned state rooms and that the knotted cord dangling from each door handle should be hung on the outside when you didn't want to be disturbed. Evening slide lectures about marine mammals, bears, birds and Alaskan history were flagged for educational enrichment throughout the cruise.

Several cruisers wanted to clarify Cruise West's confident undertaking to refund US$250 to anyone who didn't see a whale on their trip. Yes, this was true, Merriweather assured us, but so far no one had ever had reason to claim it. However, there was an escape clause: if cruisers were napping in cabins with their loud-speaker turned off and didn't step out following the announcement of a sighting, that didn't count as a whale no-show! Seems fair enough.

A big surprise - literally and figuratively - came in the form of our witty gourmet Executive Chef Robert. The Harlem Globetrotters or the Green Bay Packers would have seemed a more predictable placement for this giant of a man whose shoe size had to be nothing short of 16. Navigating around a small-ship kitchen with a team of assistants and servers, never mind getting comfortable in a small-ship bunk would have nixed shipboard life as a career choice for me under such circumstances, but Chef Robert was truly following his passion. Each evening we looked forward to his arrival in the lounge before dinner to describe in graphic, playful detail what was on the menu. Occasionally, a noticeable rap-style patter bubbled to the surface in a man who obviously had musical inclinations as well as culinary expertise.

It was hard to separate one wilderness day from another, as scenery shifted from a world of warm and green to a chillier world of white ice and back again, depending upon which inlet the captain and exploration leader decided to visit on any given morning or afternoon. Tracy Arm, a 22-mile fiord that many travelers consider the single most spectacular spot in Alaska, presented sheer granite cliffs that sprouted waterfalls dropping a thousand feet or more. Early risers [6 a.m.] were often treated to unique sightings that us lazier individuals [8:30 a.m.] would later hear tales about in annoying detail.

In Frederick Sound and elsewhere, we searched for endangered Steller sea lions and any kind of whale, humpbacks being the most common at this time of year. Drifting silently on a glassy sea one memorable afternoon, it was mesmerizing to stand at the rail of our ship as a pod of humpbacks breached around the vessel for more than an hour. Our fellow cruisers used up enough film on that occasion to put a couple of Kodak heirs through college. Right to the end of our cruise, we were on the lookout for the largest dolphin in the world, the Orca or Killer Whale, but on this trip, it was the only resident sea mammal that didn't cross our path.

Icy Strait lived up to its reputation as a major travel corridor for marine mammals leaving the unprotected Gulf of Alaska and entering the quieter waters of the Inside Passage. We just hung out and watched the wildlife traffic go by.

And Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve is a United Nations World Heritage wonderland that requires a full day to cruise in and out, and a lifetime to absorb. It is the world's largest protected marine sanctuary where over three million carefully-managed visitors each summer share this remote spectacle of nature. From an environmental point of view, it is a good thing that over 95% of them never leave the decks of their ships. The park is home to 16 tidewater glaciers, 30 valley or alpine glaciers and a dozen smaller, unnamed glaciers. It is also home to 15,000-foot Mt. Fairweather which, despite its name, is more often than not shrouded in cloud. We were lucky to see its snow-covered, sun-lit features in sharp profile. Rising from the sea coast at 1,000 feet a mile, Mt. Fairweather has the steepest climb from sea level in the world. Another dramatic first for Alaska!

Here was a grand way to celebrate the end of our exploratory journey, in fact, really the only way. In this world, there are some acts that are virtually impossible to follow. Glacier Bay National Park is one of them.

Half way through our wilderness expedition, we made our only return-to-civilization port call with a visit to Sitka-by-the-Sea. Getting there was a graphic illustration of our small-ship flexibility. While large cruise ships must cover miles of open ocean to position themselves for an entry into Sitka harbor and still drop anchor off shore, our vessel came in smartly through the beautiful but aptly named Peril Strait, with Captain Rob expertly navigating the tidal challenges of Sergius Narrows to tie up directly at the waterfront docks.

Even after four days of wilderness gunkholing, it felt mildly unsettling to step ashore onto paved and sidewalked streets, to become once again mindful of vehicle traffic and noise, and to reach for our wallets to purchase souvenirs in the creatively-stocked shops selling native and Russian-themed arts and crafts.

The city's setting alone is breathtaking, recognized as a special place by the Tlingit nation, then by the Russians who set up their North American colonial capital there in 1804. Present-day Sitka has marketed its Russian-ness in some very appealing ways, including the local Russian dance show which is both playful and authentic. The icon treasures and awesome interior of St. Michael's Russian Orthodox Church are a hallmark of a vibrant religious history and present-day congregation. No matter what your religious persuasion, you will be impressed. You can't miss the church, situated at the crossroads to everything else in Sitka.

Cruise West, www.cruisewest.com, offers eight distinct small-ship itineraries to explore different coastal segments of Alaska, as well as land-based add-on packages that include a stay in Denali National Park and even Alaska rail journeys. The fleet includes a cruising yacht and seven vessels accommodating 78 to 114 guests. Cruise West also offers educational small-ship explorations of Far East Russia, British Columbia, California's Napa and Sonoma Rivers, Washington/Oregon's Columbia and Snake Rivers, Mexico's Sea of Cortés, Costa Rica and Panama. Japan and the South Pacific are the newest Cruise West explorations.

For full facts on the cruise described in this article, check out the Wilderness Inside Passage itinerary, offered May through August. This cruise begins and ends in Alaska's state capital, Juneau, a city enthusiastically recommended by this writer as an extended stopover in itself.

The Lonely Planet guide, Alaska, updated 8th popular edition in 2006, is a comprehensive visitor resource to the state, highlighting flora, fauna, history and local culture as well as encouraging active exploration of accessible wilderness areas and parks, and accommodation for a range of travel budgets. Available from web and storefront bookstores worldwide.

Don't miss THREE other colorful Alaska articles in our Travel with a Challenge permanent feature collection: read about senior-friendly Helicopter Glacier Trekking on Mendelson Glacier, an independent exploration of the Aleutian Islands by ferry, and learn what there is to see and do in Alaska's isolated but lively state capital city, Juneau.

Alison Gardner is a travel journalist, magazine editor, guidebook author, and consultant. She specializes in researching alternative vacations throughout the world, suitable for people over 50 and for women travelers of all ages. She is also the publisher and editor of Travel with a Challenge web magazine.
Email: alison@travelwithachallenge.com.