With lots of Hawaiian beach resorts competing for your business, Maui’s southwestern coast offers several luxury choices. So, in these tough economic times . . . Why Wailea?

Probably I was being misinformed, but I remember hearing in elementary school that the Eskimos of North America had 16 words for snow--one for icy snow, one for soft snow, one for crunchy snow, and so on. This was said to be evidence that we clever, restless humans will discern diversity in even the most bare, elemental environment. A fine idea.

Yet here I sit on yet another lazy afternoon in Wailea, along the southwest coast of Maui, sun-drunk, sea-soaked, frond-shaded and skeptical.

If ever there were an elemental landscape, this is one. Sun. Sea. Sand. Implements for enjoyment of the aforementioned. A winding path leads along a mile and a half of immaculately arranged shoreline. Logo-bearing towels are carefully draped on deck chairs. If we humans are so irrepressibly inventive in our vocabularies, then why don’t Hawaii’s dictionaries include seven words for sun block, nine words for golf , 11 words for lobby sculpture , 17 words for tiki torch, 23 words for reclining patio furniture ?

Because at this point in the 20th Century, when you find simplicity, the last thing you want to do is complicate it. And even if you have to cross a few thousand miles of Pacific Ocean to reach it, well, the hefty price still may seem worthwhile. So goes the strategy behind Wailea, which opened its first hotel 17 years ago.

Wailea’s creators aimed to offer a more luxurious alternative to Kaanapali, the master-planned resort that opened in 1962 along the island’s northwest coast and helped set off the first stampede of mainland visitors to Maui. Given the overbuilding of the Hawaiian hotel market over the last decade and the recent southerly drift of the U.S. economy, it’s hard to guess who will succeed in the long haul. But after a flurry of construction in the last three years, Wailea has emerged as a formidable destination: 1,500 acres, 2,514 hotel rooms, 250 vacation condominiums, 36 golf holes (soon to be 54), 14 tennis courts. Island tourism experts agree that the place has become a force to be reckoned with.

The numbers are big, but the choices are simple. You rub in some sun block. You wander from hotel room to restaurant to beach and back, surrounded by winners of corporate incentive programs. You wonder why there are so few Japanese and other international travelers, and then you remember that ours isn’t the only economy limping these days. You nudge the kids toward the various children’s programs. You snorkel. You pay large bills by placing shiny credit cards in tiny trays. (The cheapest hotel room for two I could find in Wailea ran $169 a night. Those looking for less-costly lodgings in the area should forget the resort and head a few miles north to the main drag of Kihei, where dozens of hotel and condo possibilities can be found, unfortunately neighbored by strip malls and considerable street traffic.)

To be sure, the hoteliers and restaurateurs aren’t out lazing by the tide. While the laborers rake the beach sand daily and trim the palm fronds, the higher-ups scheme over how to lure those vacationers still willing to spend Wailea prices. Last year’s Hurricane Iniki actually brought a degree of relief to these shores; hundreds of redirected Kauai vacationers landed here. But the struggle to fill beds continues. Just May 31, Takashi Sekiguchi, owner of the Grand Wailea Resort, Hotel & Spa, the most expensive of the hotels here, ended a management contract with Hyatt and hired hoteliers Colgate Holmes and Henry Schielein, both veterans of the Ritz-Carlton chain, to take over operation of the massive property.

But all those competitive anxieties are backstage, and the shiny new poolsides and freshly raked beaches of Wailea seem calm and comfortable as any on the islands. Here’s a guide to them.

From Maui’s Kahului Airport, I steer my rental car 17 miles south until I am surrounded by manicured lawns and the discreet directional signs bearing orange and blue logos. It’s late, about 10 p.m., but at the front desk of the Stouffer Wailea Beach Resort, the receptionist welcomes me with a smile, a lei, a room key.

The next morning, I pad down to breakfast with a 180-degree panorama of tropical paradise spread out before me--and find myself at a table neighboring the Hawaii tourist we all fear.

“Hey, Fred,” the paunchy fellow says to his companion, “look at this nice lady.” Then he turns to the waitress in question.

“Would you move with me to Cleveland, Ohio?”

The waitress endures this with grace and that much-advertised aloha spirit. Probably she has dealt with much worse. The buffet, meanwhile, is massive. On a Sunday morning at many hotel restaurants, this meal could pass for brunch and fetch $20 a head. Here, as hotels scramble to lure guests with added values, the feast comes free with my room every morning.

Upstairs, my room includes a view of greenery and Haleakala, the world’s largest dormant volcano, rising in the distance. It’s normally a $245-a-night room for two, with twin washbasins and telephones on the desk, by the bed and in the bathroom. But in the battle for customers, many Hawaiian hotels are throwing in all sorts of extras. Having inquired closely about such possibilities, I am here on a package rate of $199 per night, with not only the breakfast but a rental car provided in the bargain. (This offer is available for a limited number of rooms through Dec. 19.)

By this neighborhood’s standards, those rates make the Stouffer Wailea Beach Resort relatively inexpensive. But then, it is an aged institution. It opened way back in 1978. The place is quite comfortable, its grounds and 347 rooms having been renovated in 1991, and the service is professional enough to have earned a dozen consecutive five-diamond ratings from AAA. I call the concierge to ask when sunset is and, without a pause, she answers 6:38. But the Stouffer pool is just a pool--you know, no water-slide or plaster volcano models. And the dining room, though it serves up good food, lacks faux Italian frescoes. Wander a few days among the resort’s four other upscale hotels and you begin to notice these things.

Not that there aren’t other places to go. If you’re feeling a little adventurous, you take a helicopter ride over the crater of Haleakala, clouds crowding around it as evening darkens. Or you drive further south to broad, beautiful Makena Beach (a.k.a. Oneloa Beach), where actual locals go. Or continue south past Makena to the crumbling old lava flows, where a nice man offered to sell me some marijuana and where a road sign warns: “CAUTION. SIMULATED MOON SURFACE.” (Apollo astronauts are said to have trained somewhere around here.) Also, there’s the tennis and golf.

But the key here is that if you aren’t feeling adventurous, you merely adjust your hammock and wait for the nice waiter to bring down another cool drink. Here’s one now. Ah. Twist of lime.

Strolling south from the Stouffer toward the other four hotels that together make up Wailea, you first come upon the Maui Inter-Continental Resort, oldest and least expensive of the bunch. The Inter-Continental opened in 1976 and finished a renovation of its 550 rooms in spring, 1991. But the place is still a few paces behind its neighbors. Its architecture and decoration seem to fall on the wrong side of that line that separates drab from discreet. The renovation notwithstanding, the rooms look a bit frayed and stained around the edges. On the brighter side, the Inter-Continental’s nightclub, Inu Inu, is a more comfortable alternative to the only other nightclub on hotel row, the laser-happy, ultra-modern, altogether-too-large Tsunami at the Grand Wailea Resort. The night I looked in at Inu Inu, a live band was offering up one of its own songs--a healthy contrast to the recorded thumping at Tsunami.

The Inter-Continental is also the leading luau thrower in the resort, staging open-air, torch-lit feasts of traditional Hawaiian food every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. These are entertaining evenings, lively and music-filled, but they may be more likely to reveal secrets of Hawaii’s modern culture than its distant history. I gate-crashed one Inter-Continental luau, watched an impassive craftswoman weave green fronds into handsome and durable baskets, and sidled up with questions. The baskets were $20 each. The weaver’s name was Rosela Tui, she came from Samoa, and it took her about a year to learn Hawaiian basket-weaving. Now she moonlights as a basket-weaver and labors by day as a clerk at the state correctional facility at the other end of the island.

Hold on. That’s a voice wafting in from the shallow water. See the guy with the snorkel?

“I feel like I’m in an aquarium,” he hollers to another guy with a snorkel.

Yes. Good snorkeling here--which means that the water seems a little tame for someone who grew up with Southern California surf. The sand along the shore seems relatively sparse, too. But Wailea’s creators have made the most of what they have, dressing up a handsome reef-protected string of five beaches with rock-free floors. They are served by another string of ridiculously well-equipped supply shacks. When I inquired about diving masks back at the Stouffer’s Beach Activities Center, the attendant cross-questioned me on my eyesight, then produced a mask with customized glass for myopic divers. Eight dollars an hour, or $23 for 24 hours. No need to fiddle with glasses or contacts, or settle for an undersea world of blurry little fish. All things are possible, it seems, for a price.

After the Inter-Continental, the next hotel stop on the Wailea path--and foremost in the memories of many visitors, I’m sure--is the Grand Wailea Resort, Hotel & Spa. The Grand Wailea, which opened in October, 1991, as the Grand Hyatt Wailea, is a Gargantuan thing: a 787-room palace with 40-foot-high ceilings and frescoes on them; a mock volcano; five restaurants; guitar-wielding balladeers in the dining room at 9:45 on a Thursday morning, and a bevy of black Botero sculptures worth millions (even if some of the hotel help call them “the fat ladies”). And let’s not overlook the labyrinth of landscaped water-slides, for guests only. It is possible to spend $8,000 per night at this hotel, meals and taxes excluded. (That’s the rate for the three-bedroom “grand suite.” Most people pay $350-$475.)

The place brings a whole new depth to our understanding of the word excessive , yet it’s irresistible, in its way. The art is not only expensive, but interesting. And the scale of the whole scene just made me smile.

Others do more than smile. Last year, my friends Ken and Brenda, an ordinarily responsible couple with a mortgage and well-tended pets, were honeymooning at a less-expensive hotel in the area. On a long walk they came upon the Grand Wailea, and something snapped. The details are unclear, but some minutes later, they were found frolicking in the currents of the water-slide. They were asked to leave. Having heard this tale, I was cagey about my trespassing, and scanned the premises carefully. Delirious children in rushing water. Hand-holding couples. Alert lifeguards. And an entranced woman with a Sony video camera, shuffling past the greenery and quick-stepping waiters, taping without pause like a sleepwalking Steadycam operator. Clearly not in Kansas anymore.

Next door stands the Grand Wailea’s spa, an exercise retreat so elaborately appointed that I’d feel rude sweating in it. Marble everywhere. It seems strange to spend so much money on an indoor workout facility in such a famously outdoors environment. But the spa hours do extend into the evening, so the exercise-fixated can do their thing outside and inside.

After this, the neighboring Four Seasons Resort Wailea, completed in 1990, seems impossibly restrained. The architecture is subdued, the grounds more inviting than astounding. But there’s decadence here, too; it’s just painted in muted hues. Look closely at these rushing waiters and waitresses. To each lounging guest around the pool, they periodically deliver a cool towel for the brow. Also, the 380 rooms are spacious, with big balconies--12 by 15 feet in one I looked at--and an hour’s worth of snorkel gear or bike rental is included in room rates. (Cheapest package rate: $250 a night for a mountain-view room, rental car included, subject to availability.)

Now we’re to the end of the line, Wailea-wise, and the Kea Lani Hotel. The Kea Lani, which opened in December, 1991, is a 450-room, all-suite, neo-Moorish creation with gleaming domes, rounded corners and white walls outside, Italian pottery and tapestries inside. It feels quite new, like an architect’s model that awakened one morning and found itself full size, and perhaps felt a little bit awkward. It has a wonderfully inviting Italian-style bakery, though: Caffe Ciao, designed in high but casual style, with pastries and breads baked daily, along with fancy waters, coffees and salads. Room rates fall in the lower middle range for this neighborhood: $325 for a room with a full ocean view, $225 for one without.

That’s Wailea. Now, for those willing to range a little farther south, there’s also the 7-year-old, 300-room Maui Prince Hotel, a little severe, very Japanese, a secluded place set off on its own. The koi pond is so well stocked that at feeding time it looks like a rippling animated Impressionist painting, heavy on the orange and white. Nearby lie six Makena tennis courts and 18 holes of golf, with another 18 due in September. The Maui Prince has one of the better package offers in the area, too. Through Dec. 22, $189 nightly rents a double room with buffet breakfast for two and a rental car.

All experiences are subjective, of course. But if money were no object, I’d book first at the Grand Wailea Resort, Hotel & Spa, then at the Four Seasons, then at the Stouffer, then the Maui Prince, then the Kea Lani, then the Inter-Continental. Assuming that money is an object--and that current rates hold--I’d probably go back to the Stouffer first, then try the Maui Prince, then the Kea Lani, then the Grand Wailea Resort, Hotel & Spa, then the Four Seasons, then the Inter-Continental.

Wait. Another talking snorkeler. It’s yet another beautiful day. I’m wading into the sea, getting some direct sun for the first time since my arrival. As I reach hip depth, a strange woman approaches with a vague smile. She is looking at my body.

“So,” she says, “your first day here.”

And dissolves into giggles. She has come from Valdez, Alaska, land of the tan-less, land of 16 words for snow. She is quite sunburned herself. Yet the hue of my flesh deeply amuses her. Clearly, it’s time for me to settle a little more deeply into this sun, sea and sand.

GUIDEBOOK

The Resorts of Wailea

Getting there: Through July 31, Hawaiian Airlines is offering a limited number of restricted tickets for direct round-trip flights from LAX to Maui for $439. Also through July 31, United is offering nonstop L.A.-Maui flights with restricted, nonrefundable round-trip fares beginning at $499. American and Delta are offering direct flights (stopping in Honolulu) for $499 through July 31.

From Kahului Airport on Maui, Wailea is a 25-minute drive. If you’re planning to leave the resort at all, it’s a good idea to rent a car.

Where to stay: Wailea includes five hotels and one vacation condo development. Each hotel offers programs for children. At each, various packages are available that may offer substantial savings from the undiscounted “rack rate” prices quoted here. Budget-watcher’s reminder: Add a 9.17% Hawaii hotel tax rate to figures below.

Four Seasons Resort Wailea (3900 Wailea Alanui Drive, Wailea, Maui, Hawaii 96753, telephone 800-334-6284 or 808-874-8000). Standard double rooms: $325-$400 nightly.

Grand Wailea Resort, Hotel & Spa (3850 Wailea Alanui Drive, tel. 800-888-6100 or 808-875-1234). Standard double rooms: $350-$475.

Kea Lani Hotel (4100 Wailea Alanui Drive, tel. 800-882-4100 or 808-875-4100). Every unit is a suite; double rooms $225-$325.

Maui Inter-Continental Resort (3700 Wailea Alanui Drive, tel. 800-367-2960 or 808-879-1922). Standard double rooms: $169-$239.

Stouffer Wailea Beach Resort (3550 Wailea Alanui Drive, tel. 800-992-4532 or 808-879-4900). Standard double rooms: $245-$325.

I didn’t see inside any of Destination Resorts’ Villas at Wailea (3750 Wailea Alanui Drive, tel. 800-367- 5246 or 808-879-1595), but there are condominium units available within the resort area. There is usually a three-night or longer minimum. Standard double rooms: $120-$300.

Just south of Wailea is the Maui Prince Hotel (5400 Makena Alanui Drive, Makena, Maui, Hawaii 96753, tel. 800-321-6284 or 808-874-1111). Double rooms: $220-$350, depending on view. With a $189 nightly special now available and a rental car thrown in, it’s worth considering.

Where to eat: Maui Onion (at the Stouffer Wailea Beach Resort) offers lunches of American food on a flowery patio for $8-$12.50. Raffles’ (also at the Stouffer resort) specializes in Hawaiian regional cuisine, offering main dinner dishes for $24-$33, including Indonesian tiger prawns so large that I had to cut them into five pieces. Bistro Molokini (at the Grand Wailea Resort) offers Italian lunches for $11-$15, pina coladas for $5.50. Pacific Grill (at the Four Seasons) offers Pacific Rim-flavored main courses, including seared white snapper, for $17.50-$31.50.

For more information: Contact the Wailea Destination Assn. (3750 Wailea Alanui Drive, Wailea, Maui, Hawaii 96753, tel. 800-782-5642 or 808-879-4258) or the Hawaii Visitors Bureau (3440 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 502, Los Angeles 90010, tel. 213-385-5301).