The Haunted and Cursed Great Eastern

A Skeptics View

Six years ago, I first read on a forum about the skeletal remains of two bodies that were found on the Great Eastern between its double hulls when it was being dismantled in 1889.

To make a point, a skeptical poster stated that the space between this ship’s double hulls was only 8 inches across--so how could two bodies have fit into this space?

The Great Eastern

I just laughed. In 1849 the Great Eastern was the largest ship the world had ever seen. It was over 700 feet in length. 

Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who designed the Great Eastern, was one of the greatest engineer visionary of the 19^th century. He collaborated with John Scott Russell, whose company built her over 3 years in a London shipyard.

The Great Eastern was the first ship to incorporate a double-skinned hull--today this feature is standard in large ships--it is a significant safety feature.

The ship’s two wrought iron hulls were each 9mm in thickness. The space between these two hulls was several feet in width.

Under construction

Here is a factual statement that backs up the distance between the inner and outer hulls.

“In 1862, an uncharted rock in Long Island Sound tore an 83-foot-long, 9-foot-wide, gash in its outer hall. But the inner hull held. And it steamed safely on into New York Harbor.”

The statement that the area that separated these two hulls was only 8 inches wide is ridiculous--especially for a ship the size of the Great Eastern. 

Some feel the inspection hatches in the ship’s inner hull would have provided an easy escape. Which debunks the myth that two skeleton’s were found.

It is true is that two riveters did actually disappear during the construction of the Great Eastern. 

Regardless, there were several reports of the ship being haunted after it was put into service.

The Accidental Deaths

The Great Eastern was built to hold 4,000 passengers and 400 crewmembers. This was twice the capacity of any ship of the time. But the vessel never reached its potential.

Early on, a series of accidents that resulted in deaths left the ship’s reputation in tatters. 

During the first attempt to launch the ship, the winch spun out of control, tossing the operators around violently. Four men were seriously injured, a fifth John Donavan, aged 74, died of severe internal injuries. To the humiliation of Brunel, the ship had moved only 3 feet.

Once on the water, riveters or as they were called--bashers continued to work on the ships’ double hull. The legend referred to above began when a riveter and his apprentice disappeared during this time. A story was spread that it was feared they had been enclosed between the 2 hulls. It was even mentioned a search had been instated, but they were not found.

I. K. Brunel

During the ship’s first sea trials off Hastings in 1859, the heater attached to the paddle engine boilers exploded on the forward deck. Six firemen died--painfully scalded by hot steam, others were seriously injured. Some workers jumped overboard and drowned. 

The captain of the ship, William Harrison, while sailing from Hythe to Southampton in the ship’s smaller boat hit a squall near Southampton dock gates. His boat capsized, he and 2 others were found dead--they drowned. One of the deceased was the purser’s 14-year-old son.

The ship quickly gained the reputation of being “cursed.” * On her first crossing to North America, the ship carried only 43 passengers.

The Haunting

Many of these passengers quickly regretted their decision to travel on the Great Eastern. During this voyage, they and crewmembers were startled to hear loud tapping, moans, and shouts coming from the ship’s hull.

During this first crossing, one seaman fell overboard into the thrashing paddle wheel and died.

Docked in New York

When the frightened passengers reached New York, they were relieved, but as the Great Eastern arrived, its paddlewheel sheered 5 feet off the dock. There were few docks at the time that could accommodate the Eastern’s size.

After this, the ship was thoroughly searched to try and find the source of the odd sounds. But nothing was found. 

It was now firmly believed that the Great Eastern was cursed. Plus, rumors started to circulate that the sounds heard were the ghosts of the two riveters that had been mistakenly sealed within the two hulls.

On its second crossing in 1861, the ship had 400 passengers aboard, but a hurricane hit the Eastern, now damaged it did not continue the passage--it limped back to Britain. 

After this, the loud tapping with the screams and moans continued to frighten the few passengers that did sail onboard the ship.

As mentioned above, in 1862, the ship once more experienced bad luck. A large rock gashed the bottom of her outer hull outside of New York Harbor. A crew of riveters was brought in to repair the damage. But hearing the odd noises for themselves and knowing the ship was considered haunted, they refused to continue their work.

After this, the ship was no longer used as a passenger ship. It was sold for a fraction of its worth.

In 1866, the ship made 5 trips carrying thousands of miles of coil inside her hull. This coil was used to lay the first successful transatlantic telegraph cable. It was considered the one success the Great Eastern achieved.

At Liverpool, waiting to be scrapped.

The Great Eastern was then put up for auction. In 1889, after 31 years in service and 33 deaths, she was sold to an English company for scrap. One more death occurred when two crewmembers dismantling her got into a fight. One man was hit over the head and died.

It took 200 men two years working 24/7 to dismantle the Great Eastern. During this time, several newspapers reported the discovery of two skeletons in the inner shell on the port side. This reinforced people’s belief that this ill-fated ship was haunted.

The Great Eastern was probably haunted but not by two enclosed bashers. Considering all the accidental deaths that occurred on board, it was perhaps one or more of these unfortunate souls that haunted the ship.

* It is said the ship’s designer Brunel succumbed to this curse. During the Great Easterns’ first year in service, he experienced two strokes and died in September of 1859.

The Sarah Soule

What flecks the outer gray beyond

The sundown’s golden trail?

The white flash of a sea-bird’s wing,

Or gleam of slanting sail?
Let young eyes watch from Neck and Point,
And sea-worn elders pray,--
The ghost of what was once a ship
Is sailing up the bay!

                    --From the poem The Dead Ship of Harpswell by John Greenleaf Whittier

The story of the fate of the Sarah Soule, a ghost ship, is immortalized in the poem above. Many people have seen this phantom “Schooner of Harpswell.” It is described as a “breathtaking sight” as it glides along, fully rigged and under sail in the late afternoon light. It then just vanishes into a rising fog.

Beginnings

Two industrious young men, George Leverett and Charles Jose both in their early twenties set sail from Portland, Maine one day in 1812 with the intent to prosper in the Indies trade. At this time one could trade: cod, lumber, molasses, and coffee for rum in the Indies-- and make a fortune in the process.

Their destination was Soule Boatyard in South Freeport where they hoped to have their own vessel built. But during the construction of their new ship, the two men had an unforeseen event happen.

They met Sarah Soule, the boat builder’s daughter--a local beauty. In a cruel fate, both men fell in love at first sight. Not surprisingly, this caused a rift in their friendship. Both George and Charles avidly pursued her, but in the end, Sarah preferred George. The two friends got into a heated argument with Charles trying to hurl George into a nearby river.

The two were now steadfast enemies. Charles disappeared, and George waited for the ship to be finished. He named it after his fiancé, the Sarah Soule.

Despite his luck in love, George met ill fortune at every turn. He had to overcome several “strange obstacles” in his preparations for his wedding, and after the ship was completed, he found it hard to find a crew.

But determined, George finally sailed out of Portland harbor fully loaded with cargo and an able-bodied crew headed for the West Indies. Within days George spotted a black craft that flew no flag following his ship.

What George did not know is the ship was the Don Pedro, and her captain was George’s rival in love, Charles Jose.

Sarah Soule’s crew became more and more uneasy as this black ship trailed them for weeks like a dark storm cloud. They petitioned Captain Leverett to way anchor in Nassau to report their pursuer to the British Admiralty.

Leverett agreed and set the appropriate course. But the Sarah Soule never reached the harbor for when Charles Jose saw where they were headed, he opened fire upon his exfriend’s ship. All on board perished except Charles Leverett. His unarmed vessel was heavily damaged, but it did not sink.

Charles, blinded by bitterness was not satisfied with just the destruction of the Sarah Soule, he boarded the ship with his men, and they looted her. Then they lashed George to the ship’s mainmast and set her out to sea as they returned to their own ship.

What happens next in this story is similar to what happens in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. A post about this epic poem is here.

Leverett knowing he faced certain death, was amazed to see his dead crew arise and take their posts one by one. They set a course for home as Leverett lost consciousness.

On a cold, bleak November day, a fully rigged schooner that appeared to be “wrecked” was seen as it sailed with accuracy along the channel. This ship then came to an abrupt stop in Casco Bay, but oddly no anchor was lowered.

The witnesses then watched as an unearthly crew silently lowered an unconscious man into a boat. They rowed this boat ashore and laid him on a rock, they placed what looked like a logbook next to him.

Again in eerie silence, this crew then returned to the strange ship. A dense fog enveloped the harbor, and the vessel disappeared within seconds.

This unconscious man was immediately identified as George Leverett. He recovered enough to tell his strange tale, but he never went out to sea again.

In another version it was actually, the witnesses who untied Leverett’s unconscious body from the mast and brought him ashore.

People said after this that the Sarah Soule returned several more times in the afternoon mists to Casco Bay near Harpswell.

The last recorded sighting of the Sarah Soule was in the 1880s.

It was a bright summer day as a houseguest sat on a lawn near the water. He looked seaward, and along the horizon, he spotted a large schooner under full sail. The sun glistened off its canvas. He watched as it headed for the bay.

He called several others over to take a look but as they watched, the ship just vanished into the afternoon mist.

Some take comfort in the fact there have been no recent sightings of the Sarah Soule. They hope that its weary crew has been able to finally make homeport for the last time.

Here is the link to John Greenleaf Whittier's entire poem, The Dead Ship of Harpswell.

The SS Ourang Medan Fact or Fiction?

This is the strange and chilling tale of a Dutch freighter ship, the Ourang Medan, which sent out a SOS distress signal in June of 1947 while crossing the Straits of Malacca between Sumatra and Malaysia. 

Some state this tale is just an old sailor’s yarn told to amuse. But this explanation is too simplistic if the following is taken into consideration. Many ships heard this distress call and reported it. The incident was written about in 1952 in a U.S. Coast Guard publication. The result -- more than one person has tried to investigate it but it remains a mystery to this day.

Several Dutch, English and American ships heard this eerie distress call:

“An officer including captain are dead, lying in chartroom and bridge. Possibly whole crew is dead.” A burst of indecipherable Morse code was heard and then these final words: “I die.” After this last grim message all was silent.

The two American as well as the English and Dutch ships that heard this disturbing message where able to “triangulate” or determine the location from where this message was sent. An American merchant ship, the Silver Star was the closest to this location so they quickly changed course. 

Within hours they spotted the Ourang Medan across the straits’ choppy waters. At first they tried to hail her by whistle and hand signals but when they received no response the Silver Star’s captain arranged for a group to board her.

What these Silver Star crewmembers discovered aboard the Ourang Medan is described as “a living nightmare.” The deck, wheelhouse and bridge where covered with dead bodies. 

Horrified this crew saw that each decaying face was frozen into an expression of terror. Each dead seaman was staring their eyes wide-open and their mouths agape. Each corpse was positioned with arms outstretched as if they were still locked in battle with some unseen assailant.

When the crew explored further they found more bodies below deck in the ship’s charthouse and boiler room. Each of these dead men also had a look of grim terror on their face. 

The ship’s communication officer was found dead sitting with his fingertips still on the telegraph. The crew quickly returned to the deck finding the chartroom and boiler room below were both extremely cold--this despite the temperature outside that day was a sizzling 110 degrees.

Their captain determined that they should attach a line to the Ourang Medan and tow her ashore but as his crew was doing this they saw the Ourang was on fire, smoke was billowing from below her decks. These men barely had time to cut the towline and make their way back to the Silver Star before the Ourang Medan exploded. It is said the Ourang rose with a tremendous force out of the water and then sank swiftly.

One statement from the Coast Guard’s testimony report entitled,  “Proceedings of the Merchant Marine Court” described the condition and alarming state these Dutch crewmen were found in:

“Their frozen faces were upturned to the sun…staring, as if in fear…the mouths were gaping open and the eyes staring.”

In the years before and since the Coast Guard account was written rumors swirled about this strange incident. Besides the positions and expressions on these corpses, which pointed to the fact these sailors must have “suffered profoundly at their deaths” was the fact that no injuries or wounds were found on any of them. 

Plus the ship was not damaged in any way until it exploded. So the reason for their demise resulted in much speculation.

Researchers that have tried to determine what actually happened to the crew on the Ourang Medan have all hit brick walls. 

One reason this tale is considered a legend is that fact that there are no official records that this ship ever existed. But as I mentioned above, this does not mesh with the fact many ships heard the Ourang’s distress call, and it is believed by many that the Silver Star did change course and it did discover this ship. 

In contrast, an article published in the Fortean Times entitled A Cargo of Death states the Silver Star didn’t exist. It did.

Of course many have speculated what exactly caused these men’s deaths--which I find fascinating since in the same breath it is mentioned that this incident didn’t actually happen. Many theories have been suggested, some more far-fetched than others. 

One mentioned often is since this ship sank right after the Second World War it’s relative obscurity was used to transport chemicals used to make poisonous gas--it is stated if salt water hit these chemicals it would have killed the crew and then eventually caused the explosion. 

An interesting note about this theory is some believe that the real name of this ship was changed to disguise the fact that it was transporting these chemicals. Regardless, if this theory is believed one still has to wonder why this mixture of gases plus the salt water didn’t cause the ship to explode immediately.

Another theory states that the ship’s boiler must have malfunctioned causing a carbon monoxide leak. The crew then inhaled these fumes and died. But why did the seaman on deck not survive. Wouldn’t the fresh sea air have saved them? 

A third theory presented involves “methane bubbles” surfacing in clouds from a hole or fissure in the sea floor which then asphyxiated the crew. This theory is at fault because these bubbles could not have caused the ship to explode. One has to wonder if these bubbles could kill the entire ship’s crew?

Others speculated that pirates boarded the ship and attacked the crew but this was immediately ruled out because there were no marks found on any of the bodies. 

An article in Fate magazine in 1953 stated that since none of the mainstream reasons purposed were solid it could have been something paranormal that caused these deaths.

One rumor stated after this in 1965 involved a UFO. It was put forth that aliens must have attacked the ship. 

Another reason given is based upon the fact that the Silver Star crew experienced a feeling of immense cold in the Ourang Medan’s lower decks. This caused speculation that “ghosts” had something to do with the crew’s demise.

What really happened remains a mystery--that’s if this incident really occurred. This story is a good example of how tales regardless of whether they are based in fact of fiction take on a life of their own and become legendary.

Update: Here is a link to the Skittish Library with an interesting take on this story.

Ghost Ship: SS Valencia

Vancouver Island

The S.S. Valencia was a small passenger steamer.

With ninety-four passengers and a sixty-member crew, it was on a return voyage from San Francisco, it was headed for Seattle via Victoria, British Columba. 

With high winds and strong currents, it missed the entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. This set off a series of tragic events.

Minutes before midnight on January 20, 1906, Valencia struck a submerged reef off Vancouver Island in Pachena Bay. The ship then became wedged between rocks--this plus high seas prevented rescue boats from drawing near the steamer. 

These rescuers watched helplessly as the powerful waves tore Valencia apart. They also watched as countless people were swept into the sea and drowned. 

A few passengers and crew managed to climb high into the ship’s rigging --some hung on for two days before the sea claimed them as well.

One witness to this tragedy was one of the few survivors--Chief Freight Clerk Frank Lehn later recounted:

“Screams of women and children mingled in an awful chorus with the shrieking of the wind, the dash of rain, and the roar of the breakers. As the passengers rushed on deck, they were carried away in bunches by the huge waves that seemed as high as the ship’s mastheads. The ship began to break up almost at once, and the women and children were lashed to the rigging above the reach of the sea. It was a pitiful sight to see frail women, wearing only nightdresses, with bare feet on the freezing ratlines, trying to shield children in their arms from the icy wind and rain.”

In the end, the ship SS City of Topeka picked up only 37 people of the 157 people that had boarded Valencia. Over 100 people were drowned--including all the women and children. Almost immediately Valencia became a phantom ship. 

As the City of Topeka headed toward Seattle, they met an outward-bound ship. They slowed to tell this ship the sad news of the wreck. Black smoke from the Topeka’s stacks settled over the water in a dense cloud. As this cloud broke up, the people on the Topeka were horrified to see a familiar shape of a steamship--it was the Valencia.

Survivors in a lifeboat being picked
up by the SS City of Topeka

Ever since the wreck, seamen sailing past the west coast of Vancouver Island where Valencia broke apart have reported seeing the form of a ghost ship. They describe seeing waves wash over the floundering ship with human forms clinging desperately to its rigging. 

Indians that have explored the caves in Pachena Bay report that they found a lifeboat with eight skeletons in it in a large cave. It remains a mystery how this boat got in the cave for a considerable boulder blocks its entrance. This and the fact that there are dangerous waters at the cave’s entrance have prevented the removal of this boat. 

One legend states for years fishermen in the area have reported seeing lifeboats moving across the water manned by skeletons.

The Haunted Star of India

The Star of India when built was an experiment for she was built with iron instead of wood. She was built in the Ramsey Shipyard in 1863 on the Isle of Man and christened the Euterpe after the Greek goddess of music. 

Her initial voyages were ill fated. During her first voyage she experienced a collision and mutiny. During her second voyage she encountered a cyclone in the Bay of Bengal that cut off her topmasts, she barely made port. After this her captain died and was buried at sea.

For the rest of her sixty years plus in service her voyages, excluding accidents, were relatively calm. She made six cargo runs to India before 1871, then she was enlisted to sail emigrants to New Zealand, Australia, California, and Chile. 

It was during this time in 1884 that a young teenage stow away named John Campbell snuck aboard in Glasgow. The Euterpe was headed for New Zealand and Campbell was hoping to exchange a life of poverty for a life of adventure.

When Campbell was discovered, the crew put him to work for his passage. Tragically in June of 1884 Campbell fell from the main mast as he landed he broke both his legs and was knocked unconscious. Three days later he passed away and was buried at sea. 

Today witnesses have reported seeing him near the main mast on all decks of the ship. He has also been spotted hiding among the various chests in the ship’s cargo hold. Other reports state that several visitors to the Star of India have felt a cold hand touch them while they were near the main mast.

By the year 1898 the Euterpe was sold to Alaskan Packers who used her as a commercial salmon fishing and packing facility. In 1902 her name was changed to the Star of India. It was during this time another accident happened on board.

A Chinese seaman got caught in the chain room while the anchor was being raised. The noise of the rising anchor was so loud his cries for help were not heard. Unfortunately, he was crushed and killed by the rising chains. His ghost is said to haunt the Star as well.

By 1923 the Star of India being outdated was bought for $9,000 and towed into San Diego bay. The new owners wanted to restore her but the Great Depression and World War II got in the way. The Star fell into disrepair and was briefly used as a floating brothel. 

It wasn’t until 1976 that she was finally restored to her original splendor. Today the Star of India is apart of the San Diego Maritime Museum and is still put out to sea at least once a year; this makes her the oldest active ship in the world.

Besides the Star’s two resident ghosts other strange phenomena has been reported over the years. Human outlines have been seen on beds where no one is sleeping. 

Pots and pans move of their own accord in the ship’s galley and the smell of fresh bread is often detected even though the galley is no longer used for cooking or baking. 

Several witnesses have also reported hearing voices and footsteps below them when no one is there. Shadow figures have also been seen.

In recent years the museum has hosted Spooky Seafaring Tales and ghost tours on the Star of India close to Halloween.  

Ghost Ship: The Flying Dutchman

The tale of the Flying Dutchman has been told for 100s of years. The phantom vessel in this story is always seen during stormy weather off the Cape of Good Hope or in the North Sea. 

The term “Flying Dutchman” actually refers to the captain not the ship he sails. There are many versions of his story. The two told most often follow.

One legend states that a very stubborn Dutch sea captain was struggling to round the Cape of Good Hope. He had fought a strong head wind all day, when other vessels asked if he would take refuge in the bay he laughed and shook his fist at the wind and swore he would not give up. 

His crew pleaded with him to head to safety but the captain appearing to be mad refused to change course.

The captain broke into obscene songs, before heading below to his cabin to drink beer and smoke his pipe. Monstrous waves pummeled the sides of the ship, howling winds bent the masts and tore the sails, but still the captain held his course. 

To the crew’s horror he even challenged the wrath of God by swearing a blasphemous oath.

His men feeling the captain was surely mad, mutinied. But the drunken captain was awakened by the clamor and shot and killed the leader of the rebellion. He threw his body overboard. 

Legend states that the moment the body hit the water a shadowy figure appeared on the quarterdeck of the ship. A voice stated, “You are a very stubborn man.” The captain insolently replied, “I never asked for a peaceful passage, I never asked for anything. So clear off before I shoot you too.”

The figure didn’t move. Drawing his pistol, the captain tried to fire but the gun exploded in his hand. 

The figure spoke once more, “for this you are accursed, because of your actions you are condemned to sail the oceans for eternity, with a ghostly crew of dead men. You will bring death to all who spot your spectral ship and you will never be allowed to make port or know a moments peace. Furthermore, gale should be your drink, and red hot iron your meat.”

Defiant to the end the captain replied, “Amen to that.”

The second maritime version of this story always leaves out a lot of details. Again, the captain has been fighting the storm all day and refuses to take refuge in port. 

In this version he makes a rash bet with the devil for his soul that he can make it around the cape. He loses the bet and is doomed to sail for all eternity. 

In sightings, the captain is described as being alone on the ship; he is often described as being slumped over, as if he carries the weight of the world on his back. 

Witnesses have even reported seeing him place the initial bet with the devil, by rolling the dice over and over. He is heard pleading for mercy.

In both versions the the captain and his ship become the classic harbinger. It is always stated that those seamen who encounter him are cursed or doomed. 

Each version of the Flying Dutchman has him named differently: Van der Decken, Fokkeis, Van Demien, and Van Straaten etc.

For centuries the Flying Dutchman has been seen by witnesses piloting his spectral ship, it is most often spotted during violent wind storms. 

Some reports state the captain and his ship have led other ships astray, onto rocky shoals and hidden reefs. It is believed sightings of this phantom turns other ships' food supplies sour. 

This warning is always given-- even though this ship looks innocent other vessels should not draw alongside. The reason for this is if other ships accept letters to be delivered and these letters are opened by the living their ship’s will then flounder. 

Witnesses who have reported seeing the captain describe him as bareheaded, and clasping the wheel on the quarterdeck. He is always heard pleading to the heavens for mercy. 

Other witnesses have described in detail a crew of skeletons in the rigging, grinning miserably as they put on more sail. 

A recent reported sighting of the Flying Dutchman's ship was by a German submarine boat during World War ll. 

Yet another sighting occurred in 1835. A British ship spotted the phantom sails approaching them during a violent storm. The ship came so close that the British crew feared they might collide with the ghostly vessel but it vanished suddenly.

In July of 1881, the Royal Navy ship H.M.S. Bacchante was rounding the tip of Africa, when they spotted the Flying Dutchman's ship. A young midshipman, a prince who later became King George V, recorded that a lookout and officer of the watch both had seen the eerie vessel.

“A strange red light as of a phantom ship all aglow, in the midst of which the mast, spars and sails of a brig 200 yards distant stood out in strong relief.”

The lookout succumbed to the curse for he fell from the mast and died.

As recently as March of 1939 the Flying Dutchman's ship was seen by dozens of sunbathers off the coast of South Africa. 

These witnesses supplied specific details and descriptions of the ship although most had never seen a 17^th century merchant ship. Following is one account:

“With uncanny volition, the ship sailed steadily on as the Glencaim beach folk stood keenly discussing the whys and wherefores of the vessel. Just as the excitement reached its climax, however, the mystery ship vanished into thin air as strangely as it had come.”

The last recorded sighting of the this ghostly vessel was in 1942 off the coast of Cape Town. Four witnesses saw the ship sail into Table Bay and then disappear.

Ghost Ship: Lady Lovibond

Whether the Lady Lovibond has been seen as a ghost ship or not is left to history to know. But regardless, this story is still compelling today. 

The Lady Lovibond was a three-masted schooner that was wrecked, on the Goodwin Sands, off the southeast coast of England near Kent on February 13, 1748. This date in 1748 was on a Friday—so it was Friday the 13^th. Since it is said she appears every fifty years, as a ghost ship.

Captain Simon Reed (some accounts name him Peel) had just been wed, his ship the Lady Lovibond was on the River Thames on the 13^th because Reed was taking a cruise to celebrate his marriage. The ship was heading  toward the English Channel on its way to Portugal. 

The crew was nervous because the captain’s new bride Annetta, her mother, and their wedding party were aboard. A long-standing superstition among seamen of the time was that to bring women aboard was bad luck.

The legend states the first mate John Rivers, a former suitor of Annetta, paced the deck above as the captain, his young bride and invited guests celebrated below. 

Rivers engulfed in a fit of jealous rage grabbed a club and crushed the skull of the seaman at the wheel. He then steered the Lady Lovibond onto the treacherous Goodwin Sands—which is quicksand—wrecking the ship and killing everyone aboard.

At the inquiry into the disaster Rivers’ mother testified that her son had vowed his revenge. 

At the time of the wreck it had been a clear, stormless night. So the inquiry finding no other reason then sabotage, recorded the wreck of the Lady Lovibond as a “misadventure.”

Fifty years later, the first phantom sighting of the Lady Lovibond occurred on February 13, 1798. There were two sightings on this the anniversary of the original disaster. 

Captain James Westlake of the Edenbridge reported his ship almost collided with the Lady Lovibond. He stated by turning the wheel hard, at the last moment, he was able to avoid her. He reported hearing strange sounds of merriment coming from below deck as his ship passed.

The second ship that spotted her that night was a fishing vessel. The captain of this boat reported that they had seen the schooner go aground and break up. He reported when they went to rescue survivors the sands were empty and silent.

In 1848, fifty years later, the Lady Lovibond made her next appearance. Seaman ashore at Deal stated she appeared so real they sent out lifeboats to rescue any possible survivors. As these lifeboats drew near she appeared to just fade away.

In 1898 Captain Bull Prestwick spotted her. He stated she looked real despite the fact that she gave off an eerie green glow. 

In 1948 there were possible sightings but they were not recorded.