The Haunted Muskoka River, The Occupied Waiting Room of The Old Bracebridge Train Station and The Ghost Ships of The Hudson River

 

Photos by Suzanne Currie

THE SUBTLE HAUNTINGS WE OFTEN TIMES MISS, IN OUR HARRIED LIVES, THAT DISALLOW US TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE FUTURE, BY WHAT HAS BEEN LIVED IN THE PAST

     I can so clearly, and I must say, fondly recall the times that, with our gang of kid outlaws from up on Hunt’s Hill, in Bracebridge, we sat in the deserted waiting room of the unnecessarily retired train station, on the band of the embankment two inclines above the North Branch of the Muskoka River, and getting absolutely consumed by the history of the place. All of it. I would often be the last kid sitting, as my chums had turned their attention to the old freight cart on the wooden decking of the baggage shed at the north end of the beautiful old building. I’d lose myself in the ambience of history, and it was as if I could feel the pent-up emotion of the small comfortable room, sensing the pent-up emotions of all those who were facing long trips to somewhere else, or awaiting the arrival of loved ones and friends coming on the very next passenger train to stop here. As a prolific reader even as a child, I knew a lot about these places of arrival and departure, the chugging steam locomotives of once, and what these station platforms looked like when, during the war years, these meetings and farewells were so emotionally charged; adding to this, the reality that there were potentially rough boxes incoming, carrying the remains of soldiers being repatriated to their home region. It was never as much a haunting experience, because back then I didn’t really have any trepidation about such situations, but was always strangely nostalgic long before I knew what nostalgia even represented. I would say, in retrospect, that I must have had a heightened sensory perception for those lingering spirits, of the good folks of this town, who had spent good hours and bad, sitting patiently in these same chairs that I was occupying as a child voyeur. I felt, even when I was the only living, breathing occupant of that station room, that I wasn’t alone. I’m willing to bet that you have felt like this at times in your own life, and wondered why it seemed so plausible that a ghostly messenger was standing or sitting close by. Was there a message here that was missed. If one doesn’t believe in such mortal, immortal contact, being messages from those who have crossed, why then would this feeling of close proximity mean anything more than a spark of over-active imagination?

     I never received one message specifically from these vigils at the old station. I do recall times when I could have sworn that I had just heard a haunting steam whistle coming from the north, and the unmistakable chug and clack of the train wheels over the silver rails coming near the station on quiet afternoons with no other waiting room occupants than me. I felt history, in the abstract, and my young heart felt the influence of both happiness, thankfulness, and appreciation for this opportunity to hang-out, here, in this hollow, spirited environs, that sooner-than-later, as it turned-out,  would be splintered by a demolition order. I never drive by the old main street rail station without seeing that platform as it was, back when train travel was still a big deal for a still small town; and yes, at times, if I pause for a few moments in the parking lot, I can still hear the collected voices of once, long ago, still very much haunting one of the most important places in town.

     Washington Irving, the author responsible for the name “Bracebridge,” that adorns the welcome sign at the north and south of town, (from his book “Bracebridge Hall”), was a faithful advocate of preserving folk tales and celebrating antiquated ghost stories, and was of course responsible for the internationally revered story, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” As Irving wrote of the Historic Hudson River Valley, and the phantom ships that often traversed its waters, it has always inspired me, the fledgling folklorist, that our smaller, lesser known, Muskoka River, has had its own share of folklore attachments and I dare say, interesting hauntings that have largely remained unknown, and for many years, untold. I’m working on that part of our heritage, but it is a few years away from completion. But here now is the concluded parts of Irving’s haunted Hudson for your Halloween enjoyment.  

Washington Irving’s Ghost Ship Part 2

I'D LIKE TO RETURN NOW, TO WASHINGTON IRVING'S TALE OF "THE STORM SHIP," IN THE HUDSON RIVER VALLEY, DATING BACK TO ITS EARLIEST SETTLERS, MANY OF WHO WERE FROM THE NETHERLANDS. MY FAMILY OF VANDERVOORTS MAY HAVE BEEN IN THIS SAME SETTING, OF WHICH IRVING IS WRITING ABOUT. MAYBE IT'S WHY THIS STORY IS SO ALLURING TO ME. BUT I DO FIND A RELEVANCE TO THE SPIRIT-PLAY IN MUSKOKA, AND MANY SHORELINE RESIDENTS HAVE CLAIMED TO SEE PHANTOM BOATS, SAIL BOATS, AND CANOES, ESPECIALLY DURING THUNDERSTORMS….WHICH SEEM SO ENCHANTING WITHIN THEMSELVES. CANADIAN LANDSCAPE ARTIST, TOM THOMSON, WAS PROFOUNDLY INTERESTED BY SUCH WEATHER-EVENTS, INCLUDING THE MAGIC OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS, WHICH HE CAPTURED ON PAINT BOARDS MANY TIMES, PAINTING IN THE WILDS OF ONTARIO.

     "OTHER EVENTS OCCURRED TO OCCUPY THE THOUGHTS AND DOUBTS OF THE SAGE WOUTER AND HIS COUNCIL, AND THE STORM-SHIP CEASED TO BE A SUBJECT OF DELIBERATION AT THE BOARD. IT CONTINUED, HOWEVER, TO BE A MATTER OF POPULAR BELIEF AND MARVELOUS ANECDOTE THROUGH THE WHOLE TIME OF THE DUTCH GOVERNMENT, AND PARTICULARLY JUST BEFORE THE CAPTURE OF NEW AMSTERDAM, AND THE SUBJUGATION OF THE PROVINCE BY THE ENGLISH SQUADRON. ABOUT THAT TIME THE STORM SHIP WAS REPEATEDLY SEEN IN THE TAPPAN-ZEE, AND ABOUT WECHAWK, AND EVEN DOWN AS FAR AS HOBOKEN; AND HER APPEARANCE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OMINOUS OF THE APPROACHING SQUALL IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS, AND THE DOWNFALL OF THE DUTCH DOMINATION," WROTE IRVING, IN THE SKETCH BOOK CHARACTER, OF GEOFFREY CRAYON ESQ. "SINCE THAT TIME WE HAVE NO AUTHENTIC ACCOUNTS OF HER; THOUGH IT IS SAID SHE STILL HAUNTS THE HIGHLANDS, AND CRUISES ABOUT POINT-TO-POINT. PEOPLE WHO LIVE ALONG THE RIVER, INSIST THAT THEY SOMETIMES SEE HER IN SUMMER MOONLIGHT; AND THAT IN A DEEP STILL MOONLIGHT THEY HAVE HEARD THE CHANT OF HER CREW, ALONG THE MOUNTAINOUS SHORES, AND ABOUT THE WIDE BAYS AND LONG REACHES OF THIS GREAT RIVER, THAT I CONFESS I HAVE VERY STRONG DOUBTS ABOUT THE SUBJECT."

     "IT IS CERTAIN, NEVERTHELESS, THAT STRANGE THINGS HAVE BEEN SEEN IN THESE HIGHLANDS IN STORMS, WHICH ARE CONSIDERED AS CONNECTED WITH THE OLD STORY OF THE SHIP. THE CAPTAINS OF THE RIVER CRAFT TALK OF A LITTLE BULBOUS-BOTTOMED DUTCH GOBLIN, IN TRUNK HOSE AND SUGAR-LOAF HAT, WITH A SPEAKING-TRUMPET IN HIS HAND, WHICH THEY SAY KEEPS ABOUT THE DUNDERBERG (THUNDER MOUNTAIN). THEY DECLARE THAT THEY HAVE HEARD HIM, IN STORMY WEATHER, IN THE MIDST OF THE TURMOIL, GIVING ORDERS IN LOW DUTCH FOR THE PIPING-UP OF A FRESH GUST OF WIND, OR THE RATTLING OFF OF ANOTHER THUNDER CLAP. THAT SOMETIMES HE HAS BEEN SEEN SURROUNDED BY A CREW OF LITTLE IMPS IN BROAD BREECHES AND SHORT DOUBLETS; TUMBLING HEAD OVER HEELS IN THE RACK AND MIST, AND PLAYING A THOUSAND GAMBOLS IN THE AIR; OR BUZZING LIKE A SWARM OF FLIES ABOUT ANTHONY'S NOSE; AND THAT, AT SUCH TIMES, THE HURRY-SCURRY OF THE STORM WAS ALWAYS GREATEST. ONE TIME, A SLOOP, IN PASSING BY THE DUNDERBERG, WAS OVERTAKEN BY A THUNDER-GUST, THAT CAME SCOURING ROUND THE MOUNTAIN, AND SEEMED TO BURST JUST OVER THE VESSEL. THOUGH TIGHT AND WELL BALLASTED, YET SHE LABOURED DREADFULLY, UNTIL THE WATER CAME OVER THE GUNWALE. ALL THE CREW WERE AMAZED, WHEN IT WAS DISCOVERED THAT THERE WAS A LITTLE WHITE SUGAR-LOAF HAT ON THE MAST HEAD, WHICH WAS KNOWN AT ONCE, TO BE THE HAT OF HEER OF THE DUNDERBURG. NOBODY HOWEVER, DARED TO CLIMB TO THE MAST-HEAD, AND GET RIDE OF THIS TERRIBLE HAT. THE SLOOP CONTINUED LABOURING AND ROCKING, AS IF SHE WOULD HAVE ROLLED HER MAST OVERBOARD. SHE SEEMED IN CONTINUAL DANGER EITHER OF UPSETTING OR OF RUNNING ON SHORE. IN THIS WAY SHE DROVE QUITE THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS UNTIL SHE HAD PASSED POLLOPOL'S ISLAND, WHERE , IT IS SAID, THE JURISDICTION OF THE DUNDERBERG POTENTATE CEASES. NO SOONER HAD SHE PASSED THIS BOURNE, THAN THE LITTLE HAT, ALL AT ONCE, SPUN UP INTO THE AIR LIKE A TOP, WHIRLED UP ALL THE CLOUDS INTO A VORTEX, AND HURRIED THEM BACK TO THE SUMMIT OF THE DUNDERBERG; WHILE THE SLOOP RIGHTED HERSELF, AND SAILED ON AS QUIETLY AS IF IN A MILL POND. NOTHING SAVED HER FROM UTTER WRECK BUT THE FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES OF HAVING A HORSE-SHOE NAILED AGAINST THE MAST; A WISE PRECAUTION AGAINST EVIL SPIRITS, WHICH HAS SINCE BEEN ADOPTED BY ALL THE DUTCH CAPTAINS, THAT NAVIGATE THIS HAUNTED RIVER."

     THERE ARE STORIES, IN MUSKOKA, ABOUT STRANGE LIGHTS OUT ON THE LAKE, IN THE MIDDLE OF EVENING STORMS, THAT BELONG TO NO KNOWN BOAT. THERE HAVE BEEN THE DULL DRONE OF ENGINES, OF BOATS, THAT NEVER ARRIVED AT ANY DESTINATION. SIGHTINGS OF STRANGE SAIL BOATS ALONG THE HORIZON, THAT SUDDENLY DISAPPEAR, AND TRAVERSING CANOES, THAT SEEM TO VANISH JUST ABOUT THE TIME THEY APPEARED CLOSE TO TOUCHING AGAINST THE SAND SHORE OF A MISTY LAKE. THERE MAY BE THE SOUND OF A PADDLE AGAINST THE WATER, WITHOUT ANY CANOE IN THE VICINITY, OR THE SENSATION ON AN ISLAND SHORE, THAT YOU ARE BEING WATCHED BY SOMETHING, OR SOMEONE; WHEN NOT A LIVING SOUL, OR LARGE ANIMAL IS IN THE VICINITY. THERE IS DEFINITELY A SENSORY INVIGORATION, SITTING BY THE RUINS OF AN OLD COTTAGE OR COUNTRYSIDE HOMESTEAD, FEELING AS IF THE LIFE AND TIMES OF ONCE, ARE STILL BEING PLAYED OUT IN FRONT OF THE WATCHER……DESPITE THE FACT NARY A MIST OR SHADOW CAN BE WITNESSED. YET THE KEEN VOYEUR KNOWS IT IS A HAUNTED, SPIRITUALLY POWERFUL PLACE.

WASHINGTON IRVING'S "STORM SHIP" CONTINUED

     "THERE IS ANOTHER STORY TOLD OF THIS FOUL-WEATHER URCHIN (STORM SHIP'S CAPTAIN), BY SKIPPER DANIEL OUSLESTICKER, OF FISHKILL, WHO WAS NEVER KNOWN TO TELL A LIE. HE DECLARED, THAT IN A SEVERE SQUALL, HE SAW HIM SEATED ASTRIDE HIS BOWSPRIT, RIDING THE SLOOP ASHORE, FULL BUTT AGAINST ANTHONY'S NOSE, AND THAT HE WAS EXORCISED BY DONNIE VAN GIESON, OF ESOPUS, WHO HAPPENED TO BE ON BOARD, AND WHO SUNG THE HYMN OF ST. NICHOLAS, WHEREUPON THE GOBLIN THREW HIMSELF UP IN THE AIR LIKE A BALL, AND WENT OFF IN A WHIRLWIND, CARRYING AWAY WITH HIM THE NIGHT-CAP OF THE DOMINIE'S WIFE, WHICH WAS DISCOVERED THE NEXT SUNDAY MORNING HANGING ON THE WEATHER-COCK OF ESOPUS' CHURCH STEEPLE, AT LEAST FORTY MILES OFF!  AFTER SEVERAL EVENTS OF THIS KIND HAD TAKEN PLACE, THE REGLAR SKIPPERS OF THE RIVER, FOR A LONG TIME, DID NOT VENTURE TO PASS THE DUNDERBERG, WITHOUT LOWERING THEIR PEAKS, OUT OF HOMAGE TO THE HEER OF THE MOUNTAIN, AND IT WAS OBSERVED THAT ALL SUCH AS PAID THIS TRIBUTE OF RESPECT, WERE SUFFERED TO PASS UNMOLESTED."

     WASHINGTON IRVING WROTE THIS SHORT STORY, IN THE WORDS OF HIS WELL TRAVELLED CHARACTER, GEOFFREY CRAYON, ESQ., IN THE SKETCH BOOK, OF 1822 VINTAGE.

    "SUCH,' SAID ANTHONY VANDER HAYDEN, 'ARE A FEW OF THE STORIES WRITTEN DOWN BY SELYNE THE POET, CONCERNING THIS STORM SHIP; WHICH HE AFFIRMS TO HAVE BROUGHT TO THIS COLONY OF MISCHIEVOUS IMPS INTO THE PROVINCE, FROM SOME OLD GHOST-RIDDEN COUNTRY OF EUROPE. I COULD GIVE YOUR A HOST OF MORE, IF NECESSARY; FOR ALL THE ACCIDENTS THAT SO OFTEN BEFALL THE RIVER CRAFT IN THE HIGHLANDS ARE SAID TO BE TRICKS PLAYED OFF BY THESE IMPS OF THE DUNDERBERG; BUT IS EE THAT YOU ARE NODDING, SO LET US TURN IN FOR THE NIGHT'."

     "THE MOON HAD JUST RAISED HER SILVER HORNS ABOVE THE ROUND BACK OF OLD BULL HILL, AND LIT UP THE GRAY ROCKS AND SHAGGED FORESTS, AND GLITTERING ON THE WAVING BOSOM OF THE RIVER. THE NIGHT DEW WAS FALLING, AND THE LATE GLOOMY MOUNTAINS BEGAN TO SOFTEN AND PUT ON A GRAY AERIAL TINT IN THE DEWY LIGHT. THE HUNTERS STIRRED THE FIRE, AND THREW ON FRESH FUEL TO QUALIFY THE DAMP OF THE NIGHT AIR. THEY THEN PREPARED A BED OF BRANCHES AND DRY LEAVES UNDER A LEDGE OF ROCKS FOR DOLPH; WHILE ANTHONY VANDER HAYDEN, WRAPPING HIMSELF UP IN A HUGE COAT MADE OF SKIN, STRETCHED HIMSELF BEFORE THE FIRE. IT WAS SOME TIME HOWEVER, BEFORE DOLPH COULD CLOSE HIS EYES. HE LAY CONTEMPLATING THE STRANGE SCENE BEFORE HIM; THE WILD WOODS AND ROCKS AROUND, THE FIRE THROWING FITFUL GLEAMS ON THE FACES OF THE SLEEPING SAVAGES; AND THE HEER ANTONY, TOO, WHO SO SINGULARLY, YET VAGUELY, REMINDED HIM OF THE NIGHTLY VISITANT TO THE HAUNTED HOUSE. NOW AND THEN HE HEARD THE CRY OF SOME ANIMAL FROM THE FOREST; OR THE HOOTING OF THE OWL; OR THE NOTES OF THE WHIP-POOR-WILL, WHICH SEEMED TO ABOUND AMONG THESE SOLITUDES; OR THE SPLASH OF A STURGEON, LEAPING OUT OF THE RIVER, AND FALLING BACK FULL LENGTH ON ITS PLACID SURFACE. HE CONTRASTED ALL THIS WITH HIS ACCUSTOMED NEST IN THE GARRET ROOM OF THE DOCTOR'S MANSION; WHERE THE ONLY SOUNDS HE HEARD AT NIGHT WERE THE CHURCH CLOCK TELLING THE HOUR; THE DROWSY VOICE OF THE WATCHMAN, DRAWLING OUT ALL WAS WELL; THE DEEP SNORING OF THE DOCTOR'S CLUBBED NOSE FROM BELOW THE STAIRS, OR THE CAUTIOUS LABOURS FO SOME CARPENTER RAT GNAWING IN THE WAINSCOT. HIS THOUGHTS THEN WANDERED TO HIS POOR OLD MOTHER; WHAT WOULD SHE THINK OF HIS MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE - WHAT ANXIETY AND DISTRESS WOULD SHE NOT SUFFER? THIS WAS THE THOUGH THAT WOULD CONTINUALLY INTRUDE ITSELF TO MAR HIS PRESENT ENJOYMENT. IT BROUGHT WITH IT A FEELING OF PAIN AND COMPUNCTION, AND HE FELL ASLEEP WITH THE TEARS YET STANDING IN HIS EYES," WROTE IRVING.

     "WERE THIS A MERE TALE OF FANCY, HERE WOULD BE A FINE OPPORTUNITY FOR WEAVING IN STRANGE ADVENTURES AMONG THESE WILD MOUNTAINS, AND ROVING HUNTERS; AND AFTER, INVOLVING MY HERO IN A VARIETY OF PERILS AND DIFFICULTIES, RESCUING HIM FROM THEM BY SOME MIRACULOUS CONTRIVANCE; BUT AS THIS IS ABSOLUTELY A TRUE STORY, I MUST CONTENT MYSELF WITH SIMPLE FACTS, AND KEEP TO PROBABILITIES."

     IRVING REMINDS, "AT AN EARLY HOUR OF THE NEXT DAY, THEREFORE, AFTER A HEARY MORNING'S MEAL, THE ENCAMPMENT BROKE UP, AND OUR ADVENTURESS EMBARKED IN THE PINNACE OF ANTHONY VANDER HEYDEN. THERE BEING NO WIND FOR THE SAIL, THE INDIANS ROWED HER GENTLY ALONG, KEEPING TIME TO A KIND OF CHANT OF ONE OF THE WHITE MEN. THE DAY WAS SERENE AND BEAUTIFUL; THE RIVER WITHOUT A WAVE; AND AS THE VESSEL CLEFT THE GLASSY WATER, IT LEFT A LONG, UNDULATING TRACK BEHIND. THE CROWS, WHO HAD SCENTED THE HUNTEERS' BANQUET, WERE ALREADY GATHERING AND HOVERING, IN THE AIR, JUST WHERE A COLUMN OF THIN BLUE SMOKE, RISING FROM AMONG THE TREES, SHOWED THE PLACE OF THEIR LAST NIGHT'S QUARTERS. AS THEY COASTED ALONG THE BASES OF THE MOUNTAINS, THE HEER ANTHONY POINTED OUT TO DOLPH A BALD EAGLE, THE SOVEREIGN OF THESE REGIONS, WHO SAT PERCHED ON A DRY TREE THAT PROJECTED OVER THE RIVER, AND, WITH EYE TURNED UPWARDS, SEEMED TO BE DRINKING IN THE SPLENDOUR OF THE MORNING SUN. THEIR APPROACH DISTURBED THE MONARCH'S MEDITATIONS. HE FIRST SPREAD ONE WING, AND THEN THE OTHER; BALANCED HIMSELF FOR A MOMENT; AND THEN, QUITTING HIS PERCH WITH DIGNIFIED COMPOSURE, WHEELED SLOWLY OVER THEIR HEADS. DOLPH SNATCHED UP A GUN, AND SENT A WHISTLING BALL AFTER HIM THAT CUT SOME OF HIS FEATHERS FROM HIS WING; THE REPORT OF THE GUN LEAPED SHARPLY FROM ROCK TO ROCK, AND AWAKENED A THOUSAND ECHOES; BUT THE MONARCH OF THE AIR SAILED CALMLY ON, ASCENDING HIGHER AND HIGHER, AND WHEELING WIDELY AS HE ASCENDED, SOARING UP THE GREEN BOSOM OF THE WOODY MOUNTAIN, UNTIL HE DISAPPEARED OVER THE BROW OF A BEETLING PRECIPICE. DOLPH FELT IN A MANNER REBUKED BYU THIS PROUD TRANQUILITY, AND ALMOST REPROACHED HIMSELF FOR HAVING SO WANTONLY INSULTED THIS MAJESTIC BIRD. HEER ANTHONY TOLD HIM, LAUGHING, TO REMEMBER THAT HE WAS NOT YET OUT OF THE TERRITORIES OF THE LORD OF THE DUNDERBERG; AND AN OLD INDIAN SHOOK HIS HEAD, AND OBSERVED, THAT THERE WAS BAD LUCK IN KILLING AN EAGLE; THE HUNTER, ON THE CONTRARY, SHOULD ALWAYS LEAVE HIM A PORTION OF THE SPOILS."

     "NOTHING, HOWEVER, OCCURRED TO MOLEST THEM ON THEIR VOYAGE. THEY PASSED PLEASANTLY THROUGH MAGNIFICENT AND LONELY SCENES, UNTIL THEY CAME TO WHERE POLLOPOL'S ISLAND LAY, LIKE A FLOATING BOWER, AT THE EXTREMITY OF THE HIGHLANDS. HERE THEY LANDED, UNTIL THE HEAD OF THE DAY SHOULD ABATE, OR A BREEZE SPRING UP, THAT MIGHT SUPERSEDE THE LABOUR OF THE OAR.  SOME PREPARED THE MID-DAY MEAL, WHILE OTHERS REPOSED UNDER THE SHADE TREES IN LUXURIOUS SUMMER INDOLENCE, LOOKING DROWSILY FORTH UPON THE BEAUTY OF THE SCENE. ON THE ONE SIDE WERE THE HIGHLANDS, VAST AND CRAGGED, FEATHERED TO THE TOP WITH FORESTS, AND THROWING THEIR SHADOWS ON THE GLASSY WATER THAT DIMPLED AT THEIR FEET. ON THE OTHER SIDE WAS A WIDE EXPANSE OF THE RIVER, LIKE A BROAD LAKE, WITH LONG SUNNY REACHES, AND GREEN HEADLANDS; AND THE DISTANT LINE OF SHAWUNKGUNK MOUNTAINS WAVING ALONG A CLEAR HORIZON, OR CHEQUERED BY A FLEECY CLOUD."

     THE OIL LAMP AT THE OLD EWING FARM, IN MONCK TOWNSHIP, NEAR BRACEBRIDGE, WAS SLOWLY EXTINGUISHED THAT PARTICULAR NIGHT, THE WICK BEING ROLLED DOWN SLOWLY INTO THE BURNER. THE LINGERING, WAFTING SCENT OF COAL OIL FILLED THE BEDROOM, AS THE COLD AUTUMN AIR DROPPING IN TEMPERATURE OUTSIDE, TO NEAR FROST, COULD BE FELT, LIKE A COLD SPIRIT, SEEPING INTO THE UPSTAIRS OF THE FARM HOUSE. THE BOOK WAS CLOSED, BUT THE PAGE MARKED FOR A RETURN ENGAGEMENT, PRIOR TO SLUMBER THE NEXT EVENING.....WHEN FROM UNDER A HEAVY WOOL BLANKET AND QUILT, THE STORY WOULD BE RESUMED BY THE FLICKER OF THE OLD OIL LAMP ON THE DRESSER.

     I PURCHASED THE WASHINGTON IRVING BOOK, CONTAINING THE STORY, "THE STORM SHIP," FROM AN ESTATE AUCTION, AT THE FORMER EWING FARM IN THE MID 1980'S. AT THE TIME, I PURCHASED FIFTEEN BOXES OF OLD BOOKS, FROM THE ANTIQUATED FARM LIBRARY, AND THE IRVING BOOK LOOKED TO HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE MOST FREQUENTLY READ AND RE-READ, BACK IN ITS PIONEER PERIOD, AS A MUSKOKA FARMSTEAD.  THE STORY OF THE PHANTOM SHIP WAS CLEARLY MARKED BY NUMEROUS BENT OVER CORNERS......AND THIS IS WHAT I HAVE FOLLOWED FOR INCLUSION ON THIS BLOG. THE POINT I WANT TO MAKE, IS THAT THESE STORIES, INCLUDING ONES TOLD BY CHARLES DICKENS, WERE TO BE FOUND ON THE FIRST HOMESTEADS IN OUR REGION OF ONTARIO......AND IT IS TO BE EXPECTED, THAT THEY FOUND SIMILARITIES IN THEIR NEW PLACE OF RESIDENCE, TO SOME OF THE HAUNTING, CHILLING, AND MEMORABLE STORIES SPUN BY AUTHORS LIKE WASHINGTON IRVING. DID THEY SEE PARALLELS TO SLEEPY HOLLOW, WHEN THEY LOOKED OUT ONTO THEIR HOMESTEADS? I WILL RETURN TO THE CONCLUSION OF "THE GHOST SHIP," FOR TOMORROW'S BLOG. I'LL RESUME WHERE PRESUMABLY, A MEMBER OF THE EWING FAMILY MAY HAVE LEFT OFF, ONE AUTUMN NIGHT MORE THAN A CENTURY AGO.