I warmed us up with brunch and Zayn Malik, and now it’s time to get real. I haven’t had a chance to make it to the Titanic graveyard yet, but I did go to an old military fort built in the 1790s and it was legitimately spooky this time. Did I make it out alive? Did I bring something back with me?? Will we ever find out if ghosts have hobbies??? Let’s get to it.
What’s that at the end of the corridor? Is it a ghost?? (It’s Mr Fatima.)
The fort was built in response to hostilities between revolutionary France and Britain. To prepare for this trip, I did a 30 second Google search to see if there were any famous ghosts that I needed to be on the lookout for. It turns out the site never actually saw active battle and was only used as a proper military fort for about 20 years or so, after which it became a communications outpost.
I found one report of a ghost spotting at the site. A child’s ghost spoke of of a blaze, and with no fires recorded on site the paranormal investigators have concluded that she must have been a ghost from the Halifax explosion.
This was excellent news for me, because a young ghost would surely be a hip one and I had some serious questions. I decided to let Chompsky be my guide. I let her off leash, and after approximately 800 days of sniffing at nothing, she led me to this very spooky bricked up door.
I turned on my handy Ghost Hunting Tools app, and placed my phone near the door. Nothing. I asked if any ghosts were present, and the meter remained silent. Before I headed off, I asked the door ghosts one more question:
“Do you ever hang out with any of the Titanic ghosts?”
This was incredible! If the fort ghosts hung out with the Titanic ghosts that meant that ghosts weren’t tied to the place they died! Ghosts could visit the library or take cruises or go for see-through hikes! GHOSTS COULD EVEN POTENTIALLY GO ON THE INTERNET!! This was a break through! The readings were weak but I had to push.
“Are you jealous of the Titanic ghosts, like even just a bit?” The beeping intensified, but no words showed up yet. “What do you think about the Pussy Posse? Would you rather haunt Leonardo DiCaprio or Kate Winslet?” The beeping faded away.
The fort ghosts had waited their whole afterlives to bitch about those fucking Titanic ghosts and I had blown it for them. Chompsky moved on, and so did I.
We came to the remains of a small building. I went inside and took out my phone. Chompsky stayed outdoors. I was getting better readings in there, so I asked the ghosts what this building had been. Had it been a toilet? Maybe a lemonade stand?
A lemonade stand! I asked if it was a lemonade stand once more, in a spooky voice this time to make sure they understood, and a word appeared on the screen:
Yes, ghosts. Obviously it’s not still being used as a lemonade stand. Here is a photo I took as the beeping intensified. Note the white aura at the top of the lemonade window. A ghost, perhaps?
We strolled through the ruins, Chompsky sniffing at nothing and me asking my spectral friends if they knew about the internet, or how far they were allowed to stray from their main haunting location, or if they ever got annoyed by historical interpreters dressing up like them. The phone was silent. Ghosts didn’t care about me or my questions.
And then I saw the Holy Grail. A series of underground tunnels built into the hills
Chompsky came as far as the doorway, but would not enter
I knew the secret to getting these ghosts to pay attention to me. I knew their one weakness.
“Tell me more about the Titanic.”
“Did you see the movie? Do you think the hype was deserved? That was an awful lot of Oscars, wasn’t it?”
A word appeared:
I thought about following up, but chose not to. I have seen the first half of Dune, ladies and gentlemen, and I don’t have anything to say to ghosts who feel that it was shafted at the Oscars.
“Did anyone die in that well outside?” I tried
CLOUDS, said the ghosts.
These ghosts were fucking useless.