A Collection of Stories from Maine that will make your spine tingle and your blood race.
These stories of Ghosts, Witches, Demons and mystical creatures have been viewed by many reliable persons and may be counted as true. Beware and if you are afraid of the dark. GO NO FURTHER.
It has been called many names through the ages. Nessie, Sea Serpent, Water Horse, Liopleurodon to name just a few. This creature was spotted in the Kennebec River in Bath Maine. The picture was taken from the deck of the Kennebec Tavern Restaurant. It was reported that this creature was seen eating a large sturgeon which is a pretty terrifying creature itself. Not long after it passed by the restaurant a foul smell and cakes of foam appeared on the marina and around the river bank. The smell could best be described as primordial methane. Many have ventured to guess what it could have been and why did it appear now? The boating traffic is reduced this time of year and the tides are very high. Could it be making its way up stream to deposit its eggs? Can the Kennebec support more than one of these creatures? Could this be the beginning of the new dominant creature of earth. I believe it to be all of the above mentioned. The legends are true. Call it what you want I know what I saw and my camera picked up its image here for you to see.
The Last Thing I Saw
This is the last thing I saw before my eyes closed for the very last time.
It was a day pretty much like today. Cold and windy, you could feel the terror in the air. Sounds that were so ghostly even the lobstermen did not dare to venture from their homes. I had just locked up for the night. A sudden change in the direction of the wind had brought a cold, heavy fog. Turning to go to my car a chill surrounded me and a smell unlike any other made me gasp for a fresh breath. The smell of death filled the air. Walking, then running I tried to tell myself that I was having a panic attack. It was all in my mind. I had done this a thousand times. This time it felt different I could feel the breath of a 1000 souls on my back. The weight of each step was a struggle. The rain started to fall and the wind howled and it formed swirls resembling shapes to hideous for my mind to contemplate. Rain filled my eyes as I reached for the car handle. Was it all in my mind? I laughed at my fearfulness as I thought, I am safe. Then my mind buzzed with the thought of every horror movie I had ever seen. The victims always thought they were safe just before. No it was too horrible even to think about. I am safe. Suddenly a blood curdling sound like that of a cat whose tail had been stepped on filled my ears. The hair rose on my back and a fear of such intensity smacked me that I could not open the door. I was filled with fright. I fell to the ground in a twisted heap to see what took the breath of my life away. Here I lay gazing at the fall display the crew had set up for those daring to enter our establishment. It was a day pretty much like today. HAPPY HALLOWEEN. ;[
Harpswell Maine is rich with the stories of out of this world happenings. Stories that have grown with time and stir the mind to see things that should not be.
Crustabig The Ruler Of The Lobsters
There is a story of a lobster off the coast of Bailey Island that is so big that lobsterman tremble at the mere mention of his name. Crustabig walks the waters seeking his revenge on the lobsterman of Bailey Island and all who might travel upon his domain. At one time he reportedly started a lobster uprising that incited all lobsters within his mental reach to rebel against the human population of this tiny Maine Island. There has only ever been one spotting of this giant Lobster where the observer lived to tell of it. The pictures here are a representation of what he saw. Beware the Maine lobster you expect to eat does not turn the table on you.
The Curse of Bailey Island
It is said on the most beautiful of days when the sun is bright and the wind is calm you could experience one of the most infamous oddities of the Maine coast. Bailey Island is the location of the strangeness. “The Curse of Bailey Island” occurs when you least expect it. Bright sun, calm wind and calling seas bring you in to the clutches of the most terrifying fog that man knows. It has caused the disappearance of many a traveler without any explanation at all. Disappearances of all sorts from single traveler walking the road to car load of family members on their way back from dinner to sailing vessels tied to the marina on a calm day. It can’t be explained. It just happens.
This artist rendering of a creature spotted around the water’s surrounding Bailey Island
Artwork By Emile Boisvert
The Bridge Keeper
It has been told that on the harvest moon in the month of October the Bath Bridge, also know as the Sagadahoc Bridge is to be avoided at all costs. The Bridge keeper appears on that moon-lit night and stops all traffic. All that dare to cross to the other side will be lost unless you pay the toll. The keeper is a A wolf-like creature so horrible in appearance that it is said, “Man Melts With Fear”. Unless satisfied with its toll paid the keeper will steal your soul and snatch your body to the unearth side. Beware and be ready to pay the Keeper of the Bridge.
Artwork by Emile Boisvert
The above picture is a drawing of the Kennebec River Bridge Keeper who appears to collect a fee on Halloween night. Pay or loss your soul to the Keeper of the Bridge.
There are many strange disappearances around Halloween. Could these bones that were dug up on the point in Harpswell Maine explain some of those disappearances? It is said that the sound of a wolf-like howl can be heard during the disappearance of a person. Could this be the bones of the Keeper of the Bridge?
Artwork By Emile Boisvert
A special Thanks to the Harpswell Historical Society for providing a lot of the information contained on this Page. Here we will try to inform, to give you the facts as we see them, and prepare those of you that dare venture to this beautiful and mysterious part of Maine.
Ship Of The Fog
There are tales of a ship going down around the choppy waters of Bailey Island. The tides and current in and around the Island can snatch away even the most seasoned captain. For years stories have been told of the appearance of a ghost ship. They say on a foggy night you can hear the sound of ropes being hoisted and sails being filled with the gusty breezes that spin around that part of the coast. Well on August 4th 2009 on a fog smothered sea. I captured the only picture known to exist of that spirited ship. I have produced it here for your viewing so that you might give a warning to those that seek the ship, to stand clear. For no mortal soul is allowed to approach this vessel of the fog, least ye be taken with it. So be warned and be safe. Watch this video of the Ship Of The Fog.
The Dead Ship of Harpswell
The Harpswell Historical Society’s website has an account written by elementary-school kids of a local ghost ship.
The Dead Ship of Harpswell was a ghost or phantom, it was not a broken up ship. The ship was always under full sail and sailed straight ahead no matter what the wind and tide was like. The ship was mostly seen just before dark and between the afternoon and night.
Sometimes it was seen as a four masted ship, sometimes a two mast ship or sometimes a brig. As the ship was going toward the dock, the watcher saw there was no one on the ship and no one to steer the ship to the dock. When the ship was about to crash, the ship would disappear or go backwards and go into a mist. People thought that if someone saw the ghost ship that someone in Harpswell would die. The only people who saw the ship were the ones that were waiting for a ship. The ship was seen many times at Lookout Point in Harpswell Center and Potts Point in South Harpswell. It was also seen at Bailey and Orr’s Island.
The account includes a reference to an 1866 poemby John Greenleaf Whittier.
THE DEAD SHIP OF HARPSWELL.
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 gray sea-fog, from icy drift,
From peril and from pain,
The home-bound fisher greets thy lights,
O hundred-harbored Maine!
But many a keel shall seaward turn,
And many a sail outstand,
When, tall and white, the Dead Ship looms
Against the dusk of land.
She rounds the headland’s bristling pines;
She threads the isle-set bay;
No spur of breeze can speed her on,
Nor ebb of tide delay.
Old men still walk the Isle of Orr
Who tell her date and name,
Old shipwrights sit in Freeport yards
Who hewed her oaken frame.
Goodwife Hannah Stover
In the 1700′s a woman named Hannah became the second wife of Elkniah Stover who lived in the southern most part of Harpswell Neck. Some Harpswell people said that Goodwife Hannah Stover was a witch. She had come from Freeport and she was a Quaker. She refused to go to church at the Meeting House in Harpswell Center. Stover wasn’t a good person.
When Goodwife Stover died, the men of Harpswell Neck refused to carry her coffin to the Meeting House for a Christian burial, Some of the women of the town went against their husbands’ wishes. Six fisherwives carried the coffin of Hannah Stover all the way from South Harpswell to Harpswell Center.
Ezra Johnson was one of the men that had accused. Hannah Stover, He called her a “witch wife.” When the women finally reached the Meeting House, Ezra Johnson spoke out against Hannah again He said that he had a cow that had been “bewitched” an a broken seine that Hannah Stover hid caused. He said drat two days before Hannah Stover died, he had been taken in his sleep to Potts Point where he was dragged up and down the sides of a ship. He accused Hannah because he said he heard her voice while this was happening.
While Ezra Johnson was still accusing Hannah of being a witch her stepdaughter, Mercy Stover, and also Goody Cole spoke up. They reminded people of Hannah Stover’s kindness and the help that she gave to Harpswell people. At this time Parson Eaton took over. He said that Hannah should be buried, The men still refused to touch the coffin, so the women carried it the rest of the way and Hannah Stover was buried in the old graveyard behind the Meeting House.
“We have buried a witch!” Ezra Johnson growled.
“We have made the grave of a. saint,” Parson Eaton replied.
The Witch of the Kennebec
There was a year in Bath Maine in the early part of the century that strange happenings occurred. The kind that made folks start accusing and pointing fingers toward folks that looked different or folks that were from away.
One such incident occurred on a full harvest moon, on Halloween eve, on the banks of the Kennebec River. A strange warm night set in with a red sunset that can only be described as blood red in its appearance. Then out of nowhere came a fog so dark and so thick that it seemed to cut the river in half. The strong smell of spice and herbs filled the air. Folks all gathered on the banks of the Kennebec in Bath on that odd evening. They all talked of the meaning of the sight. Some folks started to speculate that the newcomer was the cause of this occurrence and of the lack of good fishing in the river. It seemed to them that the fish and the wild animals had all disappeared at about the time she moved into town. Some said “She is a Witch”!
The kids of town had often pointed out her strange ways of cooking in a large cauldron with odd smelling herbs and spices. Smoke rose up from her home most nights and the sound of a low moaning seemed to fill the air around the smoke.
All of a sudden, it seem as if out of nowhere, there appeared the widow Shaw. A “skinny old crow of a woman” with long red hair tightly weaved into coils. She always dressed in long black flowing dresses and wore a wide black rimed hat. That is how she was described by the good people of Bath. She was odd in her speech, with a high whining tone that curled your hair as if the scraping of nails upon a black board. Worst of all She had just moved to the area from some place south that no one in the town of Bath had ever heard of.
Widow Shaw gave out a call to the folks standing around watching the happenings of nature in what seemed to be some kind of gibberish that no one understood. Suddenly the bank of the river gave way under the “old crow of a woman” and with a scream, she was gone.
The fog lifted and the harvest moon shined brightly at that very minute. The towns people ran to the spot where widow Shaw had fallen but she was never seen again. Only the hand prints of where she had tried to grasp a hold in the mud before being swept away to her end.
Every Halloween on the exact anniversary of the event, folks say that can hear the high pitch screech of widow Shaw. The smell of the boiling caldron with it’s herbs and spices fill the air in Bath along the Kennebec River. They say if you go down to the banks of the river you can see the claw marks in the mud where the Kennebec Witch was last seen.
If you enjoy learning about the Haunted History of Bath Maine visit Red Cloak Haunted History Tours
If you are interested in buying a wonderful children’s book, teaching kids not to be afraid of the dark. The Inch High Witch is awesome.