It was 5:15 a.m. and I was teetering 70 feet above the main deck of the world’s last wooden whaling ship.

I struggled to maintain my balance as I watched camera crews scurry to the New London City Pier to join the media frenzy below. My body dangled over the spars, when a warm westerly breeze cleared the morning haze. All eyes were on the Charles W. Morgan.

I am not a sailor.

I was a 28-year-old journalist watching the sun rise from the foremast of a 173-year-old sailing ship. It was an incredible sight, and at that moment, I realized this was the beginning of a historic journey.

More than 90 years had passed since anyone had actually seen the Charles W. Morgan under sail. Anybody who claims to have remembered it is probably dead.

Those lucky enough to have visited Mystic Seaport in Connecticut probably know the Morgan. It’s been their flagship exhibit for 73 years. Parents, kids, teachers and students have all roamed the decks and marveled at its majesty.

But what makes the Morgan a truly special ship is not the fact that it was used to hunt whales for oil over the span of 37 voyages and 80 years.

No, what makes the Morgan special is that it is the lone survivor from a bygone era. It’s not a replica, but the very last of the wooden whalers. It’s a key to understanding our past.  

In 2008 Mystic Seaport dry docked the Morgan and fully restored their prized artifact; a move that seems especially bold during one of the worst recessions in recent years. About 6 years and $10,000,000 dollars later, the ship slipped back in the water, and this summer we took it sailing. I was lucky enough to be there.

We set sail in early June from New London harbor on the 38th voyage to visit and explore New England’s historic ports. For two months I got to call this ship my home, along with 15 professional deckhands, four officers, an engineer and a cook.

I was the stowaway.

The official duties of the “Morgan stowaway” were to document the voyage and share my stories through blogging and social media. While fitting in with the crew was the first task on my journey, figuring out how to manage 21st century technology in a 19th century work environment presented some unexpected challenges. The galley became my office, the “hold” held my hard drives, and my sea chest carried my laptop, camera and iPhone — all the essential tools a 21st century stowaway needs.

Seeing a square rigged, 113-foot wooden ship with all its sails plumed evokes a wonderful sensation. I remember when we dropped the towline and set the topgallant sails. The feeling of a 450-ton vessel accelerating under our feet is quite powerful. On our first day, we hit 9 knots with a steady heal. The Morgan could tack on a dime. 

Climbing in the rig is known as going aloft. It’s not for the faint hearted, but it was breathtaking. Most of the time is spent engaged in death defying maneuvers, furling and unfurling sails. The other part is kind of therapeutic. One might call it a sailor’s moment of zen.

Here’s a video and the view of what it looks like to go aloft. Scared of heights much? 

 I gradually got used to the living conditions. The snoring in the foc’sle could be mitigated with earplugs. Baby wipes and Super Orange were the best remedy for pine tar removal, oh and never, I repeat, never whistle on a sailing ship. Sailors are very superstitious.

It was not long before the crew started calling me “Stowie,” along with a few other colorful nicknames. (“Scuttlebutt” was personal favorite.) Together we explored the sand dunes of Cape Cod, traveled sacred paths with the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head, and even stood high atop the Morgan’s masthead watching whales swim alongside a historic whaling vessel in Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary. Not many people can say they’ve done that. 

But for me it was the smells and tactile sensations that authenticated the whole experience. The scent of pine tar and the feel of manila lines clasped between calloused hands, or the sound of ocean swells swashing against the bow timbers made it more visceral than any camera equipment could capture.

It hasn’t been long since the voyage concluded, and I miss it dearly. But my story didn’t end when the ship docked.

It’s impossible to size up my summer in one article. I have too many tales to tell, like the time I watched a humpback mother and calf nudge the oars of our whale boat, or that time I climbed the rigging of the USS Constitution — and who can forget that time we made a night passage as we navigated home under the night sky. 

Journalist Ryan Leighton will be hosting an in-depth presentation at the Boothbay Railway Village with local Charles W. Morgan descendant Sally Bullard on Feb. 11. The show starts at 7 p.m. and will feature stories, artifacts, and behind-the-scenes moments from the 38th Voyage.