Their beds were attached wooden platforms shoved into the bows. On deck, the new recruits needed to “learn the ropes” — the names and uses of 200 different lines controlling the maze of masts, sails and rigging. They had to master the mysteries of climbing the 110-foot mainmast and clinging to the “rings” while searching the waves for whales.

On the second deck, in a space too cramped to stand straight, the men crawled  on  hands and knees, processing the   blubber.

The enormously difficult but incredibly lucrative life aboard the tall ship Charles W. Morgan (1841-1921), the oldest surviving wooden whaler in the country, is just one of the many histories of the sea brought to life at Mystic Seaport, the Museum of America and the Sea, in Mystic, Connecticut  It is a fascinating space on a spit of land on the Mystic River, with a half-dozen piers jutting in to the water, each with its ship and a story to tell. Nineteenth-century houses and shops, all original buildings (although many have been moved from neighboring towns to their current location), give the feel of life in a 19th-century New England port town.

While one can enter and tour these small buildings, the seaport is essentially an outdoor experience, filled with activities for kids and information for adults. Aboard any of the tall ships are guides primed with information about the vessels’ pasts, and there are numerous events and re-enactments. On the Morgan, visitors learned that whalers  went out for years at a time, scouring the seas for the huge mammals prized mostly for their oil that had to be rendered from the blubber. Small boats with five men each would row out to harpoon the whale and drag it alongside the boat, where it would be lashed until the blubber was processed: Cut into book-sized pieces, which were then melted in the “tryworks” on deck. To contain the oil, a skilled cooper would reassemble casks that had been built on shore, then taken apart and stowed aboard. It took three to five years to kill the 50 or so whales whose oil would fill the Morgan’s capacious hold.

Upon the Morgan’s return home to New Bedford, Massachusetts (which now is home to a whaling museum, and later to San Francisco, the 2,500 barrels would translate into incredible riches. One year, the cargo produced $150,000 in turn-of-the-century dollars!

In addition to the wealth of information offered by guides, the visitor can observe numerous demonstrations, from raising the yards to lowering the anchor (all operations that are much harder than they seem!). The yard-raising demonstration involved an endless sea shanty, which guided the crew as the braced, then hoisted the heavy support for a sail.Far above deck, climbers would furl and unfurl sails, wrestling the canvas as it flapped and bellied in the wind. From such work, sailors developed a physique that was all torso, the “Popeye” look, as one guide put it.

Beside the ships, the re-created town also offered interesting fare. A drugstore and druggist’s office was a sharp reminder of the primitive state of medicine a century or so ago, when bleeding was a favorite way of treating infection. The visitor can learn about lobstering and harvesting oysters, can take in details of the services supporting the great vessels, and can marvel at an entire building dedicated to a display of figureheads.

These figures, deemed essential for each and every ship, ranged from a fierce Seminole Indian, dating from 1865, to a Scotsman in full Highland dress, who stood outdoors in the Cape Verde Islands east of Africa after his ship went down until he was rescued and brought to Mystic. There was even an image of Belva Ann Bennett Lockwood (1830-1917), a feminist and champion of women’s suffrage, who was twice nominated for president.

Upstairs was an exhibit of sailing photos, “The Art of the Boat, Photographs from the Rosenfeld Collection,” dating from the early 1900s. Works by various photographers, featuring Morris Rosenfeld, use a stunning sense of shape and form makes art out of a simple means of conveyance or an exciting race. The largest single collection of maritime photographs in the world, the Rosenfeld Collection comprises more than 1 million images taken between 1881 and 1992. Again, an enthusiastic volunteer guide provided a wealth of background and information. Visit the collection’s website to purchase prints.

 I ended my visit at the Preservation Shipyard, where a display, some of it at kid height, details the process of shipbuilding and restoring. In the works was an almost completely dismantled vessel, aimed for the docks once it was rebuilt. All of the ships at the seaport have been doctored here at one time or another, often with historic implements and well as modern power tools. Visitors walk along the edge of the restoration projects, observing the 85-foot spar lathe and rigging loft. Outside is a 375-ton capacity lift dock that raises boats out of the water for repair. This display is perhaps the truest indication of the original Mystic Seaport, which specialized in shipbuilding.

Don’t plan to eat at the seaport. “The Galley,” which I expected would provide attractive seaside dining, featured hotdogs, hamburgers and prepackaged salads. (It also served Mystic Seaport Pale Ale — brewed not locally as one would think but by the same Maine brewer that made the St. John Pale Ale I reported on in April!) Save yourself for S&P Oyster Company, which I talked about last month.

Happy traveling!

Photography by Thomas Simonet. Captions: 1. Learning one’s way around the maze of masts and rigging was just one of the many jobs of sailors on the tall ships. 2. Volunteers sing a sea shanty as they demonstrate the coordinated pulling required to raise a yardarm. 3. The astonishing variety of figureheads that decorated the bows of historic boats makes a fascinating display. 4. The shipyard comes closest to demonstrating Mystic Seaport’s past. 5. Mystic Seaport beer makes a fun souvenir, but it’s really bottled in Maine.