Connecticut’s coastal gem

I’ll admit it: before I visited Mystic, Connecticut, my main reference point was the 1988 romantic comedy “Mystic Pizza,” starring Julia Roberts and Lili Taylor. When I arrived, I half-expected Roberts to appear with a slice in hand and a smile.

But real life in Mystic, it turns out, serves up a far richer experience than Hollywood. This small New England town has all the ingredients for a lovely getaway, with historic tall-masted ships, water views and picturesque streets lined with boutiques and cafés.

Mystic’s identity has always been shaped by water. Though it’s often described as a seaside town, Mystic actually straddles the Mystic River, which is a tidal estuary that connects to Long Island Sound. Settled in 1654, Mystic became one of New England’s largest shipbuilding centers in the 18th and 19th centuries, launching more than 600 vessels from its shipyards.

That history is celebrated at the Mystic Seaport Museum, the largest maritime museum in the United States. Its 19th-century village brings the maritime past vividly to life, with interpreters sharing seafaring lore, tall ships rising from its docks, and a working shipyard where wooden boats are restored by hand.

For me, the museum’s highlight was touring the Charles W. Morgan, the last surviving wooden whaling ship in the world. While the ship creaks and groans with age, it remains remarkably intact, making it easy to imagine the hard lives endured by its sailors. Below deck, the quarters are tight and dim, with bunks scarcely bigger than coffins and the lingering scent of aged wood and tar.

The museum’s extensive whaling exhibit offers a sobering look at the industry that once powered Mystic’s prosperity. A huge whale mandible greets visitors near the entrance, displayed in front of a life-size mural of a sperm whale. Artifacts such as harpoons, logbooks and vintage maps recall the dangerous voyages that carried New England crews around the world in pursuit of whale oil. The exhibit doesn’t shy away from the environmental toll of whaling, but it also conveys the courage and endurance of the sailors who participated in it.

The harbor at Mystic Seaport Museum is edged with restored buildings that evoke a 19th-century seafaring town. (Bob Sessions/The Gazette)

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The Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaling ship in the world, is the centerpiece of the Mystic Seaport Museum. (Bob Sessions/The Gazette)

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A massive whale jawbone stands before a life-size depiction of a sperm whale in the Mystic Seaport Museum’s whaling exhibit. (Bob Sessions/The Gazette)

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I came back to the whaling ship later in the afternoon for an interpreter-led program on sea shanties, the rhythmic work songs that once echoed across the world’s oceans. Standing by the ship’s massive winch, the guide explained how sailors used music to coordinate their labor.

“These songs weren’t just for fun,” the interpreter said. “They helped crews stay in rhythm and lifted their spirits when the work was grueling.” Soon, our group was singing along, our voices rising above the creak of the winch, feeling for a few moments the pulse of a sailing ship.

That maritime vibe continues in the town of Mystic itself. Kayakers and small sailboats slip easily along the river, while larger vessels must wait for the drawbridge, which lifts every hour to let them pass. People stop to watch, drawn as much by the ritual as the view.

I got the chance to get on the water myself on board the Argia, a two-masted schooner docked next to the drawbridge. We glided by motor power down the Mystic River and into Long Island Sound, where the crew hoisted the sails and the boat leaned gracefully into the wind, the water sparkling like diamonds around us. The captain narrated our route as we passed rocky points, historic homes and hidden coves, pointing out the lighthouses and islands that mark the coastline.

During the sail, I struck up a conversation with chief mate Nolan McDermott. After bonding over our shared love of history, he talked about Mystic’s whaling days and the sailors who once spent years chasing whales across distant oceans.

“It was brutal work,” he said. “But they knew the sea in a way most of us never will.”

Back on shore, I toured the Mystic Aquarium, where beluga whales glide through their tanks with effortless grace and sea lions splash and bark their way through lively shows. I was especially charmed by the penguins, who zipped past the underwater viewing window like tiny torpedoes in tuxedos.

Returning to downtown Mystic, I explored the streets that branch out from the river, which are lined with clapboard buildings in soft coastal hues of white, gray and weathered blue. I browsed boutiques selling handmade jewelry and nautical décor, including Mystic Knotwork, where you can find everything from sailor’s rope bracelets to intricate knot art and coiled doormats. It’s a fitting tribute to the mariners who once called this place home, people for whom a well-tied knot could mean the difference between safety and disaster.

No trip to Mystic would be complete without a pilgrimage to Mystic Pizza, of course. The real-life pizzeria that inspired the movie still serves hearty slices beneath walls lined with movie memorabilia. It’s equal parts nostalgia and comfort food.

But the town’s food scene has grown far beyond its Hollywood fame. You can feast on lobster ravioli at S&P Oyster, enjoy the family-friendly atmosphere at Mystic Fish Camp, and savor a sea-to-table meal at the Shipwright’s Daughter, which is led by James Beard Award-winning Chef David Standridge. And for a sweet treat, I loved the Sift Bake Shop, a French-inspired eatery where the line often extends out the door.

As I walked along the boardwalk that lines the river, enjoying a chocolate croissant and breathing in the fresh air off the sea, I could understand why people fall hard for Mystic, both on the screen and in real life.