If you’ve never been on a cruise – or have just been on the wrong one – you may have seared into your memory some notion of cruising as a stuffy, old people’s activity. On cruises, you say, grandma plays bingo all day while grandpa displays his mad shuffleboard skills. On cruises, your only entertainment is in making ill-advised purchases at Caribbean tourist traps, stocking up on cheap booze, sleeping, or visiting the midnight buffet.

If this is your understanding of cruising, you’re partly right; some cruises do fit this bill. But not all cruises. And therein lies the greatest credit shipboard travel has to its name: With cruises, all things are possible.

This is because a wide array of cruise destinations, lines, ships, excursions, and activities yield limitless permutations. Anyone can enjoy a cruise: Satisfaction requires merely being well informed about these options, and choosing among them wisely, with an honest appreciation of your preferences and limitations.

I say this because in my 23 years, I’ve been on 14 cruises. You might call it my family’s preferred mode of travel. I went on my first cruise, to Bermuda, when I was 3 years old. I’ve grown up with them, really.

In the course of my cruising, I’ve visited five continents. I’ve spent plenty of time sunning, to be sure. But I’ve also crunched my way across the top of an Alaskan glacier. I’ve zipped around Sydney Harbor, past the Opera House, and seen enough sheep for a lifetime while savoring the charms – and the lamb chops – of New Zealand. I’ve studied the intricate carvings at the great temple of Borobudur in Indonesia, and inhaled the incense vapor shrouding immense Buddhas in Thailand. Incense was also in the air when I admired the gilt iconography of Russian Orthodox churches in St. Petersburg, where I visited the site of Rasputin’s (ongoing) final hours, and surveyed the exquisite, innumerable delights of the Hermitage. I’ve stood atop Pointe du Hoc and walked past the solemn, endless rows of white crosses in Normandy, where so many Americans died lifting the yoke of tyranny from Western Europe some 60 years ago. And I’ve seen the shipyard at Gdansk, where, some 35 years later, the rest of the continent would move to cast off oppression’s chains.

All this, while on cruises. Not exactly shuffleboard, rum, and coconuts.

Which is why selecting the right itinerary is the first step toward an enjoyable cruise. If you don’t want to spend your entire vacation tanning on deck, don’t go to the Caribbean. Opt instead for a “Western European Capitals” cruise, or perhaps an “Andes/South America” trip to see the heights of Machu Picchu. If your vacationing party has a vocal contingent of land lovers, strike a compromise: Princess Cruises – a superb line – offers a “Cruise Tour: Beijing and Terra Cotta Warriors.” The trip begins with five days on land in Beijing and Xian, with excursions to the Great Wall, the Summer Palace, the Forbidden City, and Tiananmen Square. (They even toss in a big Peking-duck dinner, for those so inclined.) Then begins a 14-day cruise to China, Korea (South), Russia, and Japan. Similar setups – tacking land excursions onto cruises – allow for an “Australian Outback Adventure” on Princess, and a hike through Denali National Park after an Alaska cruise on Holland America (another excellent line).

So in choosing your itinerary, first pick a region you’d like to explore. But do think region. The upside of cruising is that if you’ve always wanted to visit Southeast Asia but can’t choose between Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Thailand, Singapore, or Malaysia, you don’t have to content yourself with only one (or two, or three). In 14 days, you can sample all of them – and without ever having to repack your suitcases, or check into a different hotel, or board a train or plane. A cruise is the perfect way to get a taste of a wider realm.

The downside is that you won’t re turn home intimate with every back alley of Danang, an expert on the various species of butterfly indigenous to Malaysia, or conversant in the intricacies of Thai politics. What a cruise does allow is for a traveler to go from knowing nothing firsthand about Southeast Asia to understanding that, yes, he would like to become more familiar with Thailand – but could skip Danang’s undiscovered country.

(Incidentally, another benefit of cruising is that you can visit certain regions of the world you’d like to “see but not touch,” so to speak. Because you lodge aboard ship, and can take all of your meals there, there’s no need to avoid certain vacation destinations simply because you fear the local drinking water. There’s plenty of clean HO on ship.)

Once you’ve got your itinerary down, think shore excursions. If you don’t want a lazy cruise, don’t plan lazily. Investigate your options; commit yourself to getting off the ship and walking around – and more. Each port you visit will likely have several choices for shore excursions; if you want an active vacation, don’t just stroll around the shops in St. Maarten when you can take the America’s Cup Racing Challenge excursion instead. What you do in port can have more influence over your cruise experience than which ports you visit.

Another make-or-break decision comes in choosing your vacation vessel. Cruise lines, and individual ships within lines, are rated on a system of one to five stars (or sometimes six, depending on who’s doing the ranking); six represents the most luxurious. At the low end, expect one-night cattle-calls. At the highest end – the five-plus- or six star lines, like Crystal Cruises, Radisson Seven Seas, and Seabourn – the service is consistently impeccable. When passengers enjoying these lines’ private beaches swim offshore, it is not unheard of for ship staff to wade out to greet them with champagne and caviar.

So if your idea of a fantastic vacation involves endless excitement and abundant opportunities to party, you might not want to travel with a line reputed for its quiet elegance. I remember being on the deck of a Princess ship at 11 p.m. in San Juan’s harbor; the relative peace aboard our own vessel was shattered by the pulsing disco beat blaring from a club – and the shrieks, whoops, and hollers emanating from several decks – on a Carnival ship a few piers away. The evidence speaks for itself: If you’re looking for a party to be in full swing at all times, consider Carnival. If your idea of a good vacation is more string quartets at supper and white-glove service at afternoon tea, Cunard or Holland America is probably more for you.

Part of choosing the right line is a function of who’s sailing on it. If you’re booking your honeymoon, you might opt for a quieter, more intimate, and more elegant ship. Chances are you’ll be too, um, distracted to care much whether the ship’s comedian is any good (they rarely are), or whether there are enough passenger trivia competitions (always too many). If, however, you’re booking a family vacation with young children, shipboard activities and a ship’s potential for amusement suddenly matter a great deal more. You might then opt for a Disney cruise; family vacations with little ones are the line’s raison d’etre. Or go with Royal Caribbean, which in recent years has dedicated no small effort to recasting itself as a family friendly line. RCCL’s prices are relatively low; it has a comprehensive children’s program – far beyond babysitting – that teaches young passengers about local customs in the ports of call and lets them conduct science experiments to learn about sailing and the ocean. Teens have their own nightclub, and child-friendly menus ensure that young taste buds have access to macaroni and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, and hamburgers and pizza (not combined) when the grownups are choosing between vichyssoise and tuna tartar. RCCL boasts a rock-climbing wall on every ship, and vessels in its newest class – the Voyager family – have ice-skating rinks. In other words, Junior doesn’t have to end up playing the slots with Grandma.

Speaking of which: While there is a tremendous variety to be found among cruises, there are some things you just can’t escape on any cruise – e.g., the ubiquitous casino. They’re things to keep in mind as you contemplate whether shipboard travel is really your cup of tea.

One of those universals of cruising, regardless of destination or ship, is that you’ll find no shortage of ways to blow money on board (speaking again of the casino). One of the beautiful things about cruising is a certain level of financial consolidation: Your transport, lodging, and victuals are all provided for, se cured by one neat lump sum. There are gratuities, naturally (although some lines actually prohibit tipping); bar beverages – alcoholic or not – carry a charge. But for the most part, you won’t need to spend much more on anything. And yet keep in mind that it’s quite likely you will: A host of old standby swindles – the aforementioned casino, snowball jackpot bingo, onboard shopping, art auctions, photographs, spa services, gym classes, etc. – stands ready to part you from your hard-earned money. And then there are the newer innovations, introduced especially as cruise lines – after having kept prices relatively static over the last 20 or so years while investing in ever more palatial vessels – move toward charging more for the “extras,” from attaching a premium on caviar in the dining room (where everything else is already covered) to charging for ice cream out on deck.

Indeed, one of the great democratizing aspects of a cruise used to be that, whether you had an inside cabin just above the crew’s quarters or a suite with a private balcony on the highest deck, everyone still ate just the same (and usually very well) in the main dining room. Now, however, some lines are adding separate, premium restaurants where the service and food quality surpass the offerings of the primary dining facility, and where passengers pay a flat fee – around $20 – for a meal, drinks excluded. (Having just sampled Holland America’s attempt at this last month aboard the M.S. Oosterdam, my verdict is: It’s worth it.) Regardless of where you sup, at dinnertime (and during the evenings generally), you will need to obey a dress code. And by “need to,” I mean not at all, strictly speaking: No one – at least, no employee of the cruise line – is likely to say anything snarky if you waltz into the dining room on formal night wearing jeans and your rumpled flannel lumberjack shirt. You may catch a few disapproving glances from your fellow passengers, however, if you deviate from the code (clearly spelled out in your various cruise materials, by the way, long before you begin to pack). On most seven-day cruises, that code entails two “formal” nights, one “informal/semiformal,” and four “casual.” Casual can be just about anything except denim shorts – an open collar and nice trousers will do. For informal, think jacket and/or tie; for formal, black tie is preferred, sharp suit acceptable. Most nights, dressing is not much of an effort at all; on formal nights, think of it as an unusual excuse to get dolled up for your companions. While on the subject of your companions, another universal of cruising is that your cabin will be small. Well appointed, kept immaculate by a doting cabin steward, cozy. But small. It would probably be unwise, therefore, to make fiercely quarreling siblings bunkmates. And if your prospective traveling companion is someone so horrifically annoying you can’t stand being with him for five minutes – let alone in close, constant proximity for seven (or 10 or 14) days – you may want to rethink the cruise. (Then again, if you can’t find anyone better to travel with than someone you truly cannot abide, you may want to rethink the vacation – and probably some key aspects of your personality.)

You may also want to rethink a cruise if you truly despise quaint traditions. If you step aboard a ship, you will be exposed to captains, first mates, officers, bells, whistles, nautical terminology – you name it. A little of it can be hokey, sure. The lamest thing you will probably participate in is the lifeboat drill on your first day (if there’s no drill, by the way, I would highly recommend disembarking permanently at the first port of call). But lameness aside, this exercise epitomizes the cruise culture, and is quite valuable – see Winslet, Kate; DiCaprio, Leonardo: “Titanic.”

But if these seaborne traditions and a few hints of formality do seem hopelessly stuffy to you, keep in mind that the cruise lines are making a concerted effort to “keep with it,” and, indeed, bow before the great altar of trendiness. On my cruise last month, there were Pilates classes in the gym, low-carb options at every meal in the dining room, and – no joke – an ongoing “American Idol”-style competition among passengers (with the assistance of the ship’s karaoke apparatus). If that’s not enough to convince you that this isn’t your great-grandmother’s Atlantic crossing on the Caronia – well, you may want to stick with that Great Progressive Communes of East Asia tour you’d been planning. Still, despite these efforts at adaptability, when it comes down to it, cruising may not be for everyone. (Those with grave, incurable seasickness and a morbid fear of water come to mind.) For the rest, there is surely some combination of itinerary, ship, companions, excursions, and activities that will please. It’s just a matter of moving past stereotypes, of understanding that – cliched though it may sound – a cruise is what you make of it, and that you can make it almost anything. Make it to suit the needs of you and your companions – make it to fulfill the ambitions you have for your vacation – and then there’s really nothing to keep yours from being a very bon voyage.