The Rocks Ghost Tour

03 July 2015 / Organiser: Janet Wheeldon; Story: Julie Farquhar; Photos: Brian Clayton, Brendan Barr

It was a clear but quiet night when the intrepid Illawarra gang & Steve from Sydney met in the heart of The Rocks for an appointment with some ghosts. We all felt a little lost without our beloved MX5s but they would never have managed the narrow Nurses walkway or scaled the Argyle Cut so it was best we left them warm and snug back in the Gong. Nevertheless, the spirit of the cars remained as we went in formation up and down the Rocks in search of ghostly reminders of our past.

The tour was the brainchild of Janet and Peter who felt that we needed to go back in time and catch a glimpse of our rather sorry past. Mark, the guide in black hat, long black coat and carrying an ominous vintage dr’s bag led the way,

So began the tour. All 22 of us were armed with the best ghost dispeller imaginable… a torch… If the apparition started to give cheek we could always hurl it at it….Starting at Cadman’s Cottage we moved to the Orient Hotel and looked to the window where Joseph Silver had severed his own genitals and thrown them to the street below. This was a little disturbing as we had just eaten there. Had we known of its murky past we may not have enjoyed our fish and chips so much…  Next we went via the Nurses walkway through areas riddled with smallpox and past a site where an apparition had been sited with blood on her face… Unfortunately she was not in that night but we were not deterred. From there we continued, still in formation, to Suzanna Place and the site of the bubonic plague in 1844. We learned the gruesome origin of “dead ringers” and “saved by the bell” and that rather than be buried prematurely, it was better to be Irish who were laid out for a week before being interred. For once the Irish were to be envied. At times there are the ghostly screams of a wife who was strangled near there but as these were generally heard by children we listened but heard naught. We passed the Australian Hotel and gazed up at the window where ghosts were apparently seen that liked to keep guests awake all night.

From there to the YHA where over 200 baby skeletons were unearthed and the wife of bigamist George Cribb was often seen clad in white shawl and drifting over the site of the slaughter yard… Many of us were spending the night at the YHA so his descriptions of ghostly activities under our very beds were not conducive to a good night’s sleep. We would probably need a nightcap if we were to get through the experience unscathed.

And so it continued. Each place had a tale more macabre than the previous complete with petty crims and innocent children meeting untimely ends. The walk around Observatory Hill had us listening for a voice that whispered “don’t leave me” and a feeling of smoke in our lungs in the Signal Master’s cottage…. and there were tales of other groups who had experienced odd sensations and heard plaintiff pleadings. While we experienced none of these, the history of our past was brilliantly told and we were all enthralled at the stories that unfolded. Observatory Hill was beautiful at night and worth the climb. I could imagine the MX5s all lined up looking out over the harbour...but instead we stood awhile, sans cars, and caught our breath and watched the lights below and thought of the past where life was not so easy or so pleasant.

Then there was the homerun with more tales of ladies on stairs and childish faces at windows near the cockfighting pit and then Mark left us and disappeared into the night clutching the unopened Dr’s bag. We, of course, repaired to the Harbour View Hotel to collect out thoughts and recover from the barrage of history and ghoulish happenings that would stay with us for a long time. It was a weekend of fun and history and companionship. A not to be missed event! Thanks to all.