The Charles W. Morgan sat Saturday at the Mystic Seaport. Three visitors
thought a man they saw was an actor, according to the museum. (William
Moore for the Boston Globe)
On ship, a ghost of a chance
Researchers spend night aboard after visitors see mysterious man
By Jenna Russell, Globe Staff   
June 26, 2006

MYSTIC, Conn. -- Rain drummed on the deck of the 19th-century whaling
ship Charles W. Morgan late Saturday night, as below deck, in the
cramped and stuffy captain's quarters, a group of men and women armed
with flashlights and digital cameras took their positions.

They were ghost hunters, members of the Rhode Island Paranormal Research
Group, who had come to Mystic Seaport, the museum that houses the
Morgan, to investigate reports of strange happenings on board the ship.
Leaders of the respected maritime museum had agreed to let them roam the
165-year-old vessel, the centerpiece of the collection, for a simple
reason: The recent talk of ghosts aboard the Morgan has been a
much-needed boon to business.
``Whether they find anything or not, people like that they´re
looking," said Michael O´Farrell, the publicist for the museum.
``We´re not promoting the Charles W. Morgan as a ghost ship -- it´s
up to you to decide -- but we know people are coming because of [the
investigation]."

The paranormal research group became interested in the Charles W. Morgan
last fall, after it received e-mails from three people who described
similar experiences while visiting the ship on different days last year.
All three visitors said they were below deck, in the room where the crew
once stripped blubber from whales, when they saw a man dressed in period
clothing sitting on a pile of rope and smoking a pipe, said Andrew
Laird, the group's director.
The tourists assumed that the man was an actor working for the museum,
and were later stunned to learn that there are no such guides on the
Morgan.
``That was the weird part about it -- the letters were the same, almost
verbatim," said Laird, 48, of Glocester, R.I.
The group sought permission from Mystic Seaport for a short preliminary
visit to the ship, which is moored on the Mystic River. That visit, in
April, convinced them to return to conduct a full-fledged investigation.

The group's first visit also proved fruitful for the museum. After a
story about the ghost hunt appeared in a local newspaper, the museum
received coverage in the national media, and attendance spiked briefly,
said O'Farrell.
The attention could not have come at a better time for Mystic Seaport,
which, like some other history museums, has faced years of declining
attendance. The number of annual visitors to the 76-year-old maritime
museum hit a peak of 650,000 in 1976, and has fallen to about 300,000 in
recent years, O'Farrell said.
If ghost stories draw people to the Morgan -- the world's last surviving
wooden whaling ship, built in 1841 in New Bedford -- the museum can
seize the opportunity to educate them about the rigors of five-year
whaling voyages, and the role of whale oil in the Industrial Revolution,
he said.

Still, not everyone at the museum was happy to see the ghost hunters. At
least one researcher was upset that the museum had allowed the inquiry,
because of its lack of scientific research standards, said O'Farrell.
Members of the 20-year-old paranormal research group, which includes a
bus driver, a social worker, and two massage therapists, said they are
used to skepticism.
``You can say you have a grilled cheese sandwich that looks like the
Madonna, and everyone will come look, but if you say you just saw a
ghost, they´re ready to throw a net over you," Laird said. ``It all
boils down to one thing -- fear of death."
The group sorts through a half dozen tips each month, and pursues only
the most credible, he said. It accepts no money for its work. The goal
is not to prove or disprove reported hauntings, Laird said, but to be
open-minded, and as scientific as possible in collecting data and
studying it for unexpected findings.

Eight group members in matching black T-shirts worked on Saturday's
investigation, which was filmed by a crew from ``Good Morning America."
During several hours of preparations, the ghost hunters set up cameras
and sound recorders throughout the 113-foot ship, linked to video
monitors in the captain´s quarters. Finally, they cut the lights. Six
women who call themselves ``sensitives," because they say they can sense
spirits, then wandered the low-ceilinged ship in the dark, snapping
photos, measuring magnetic fields with noisy hand-held gauges that
whistled like tea kettles, and trying to detect paranormal presences.

The video monitors showed nothing unusual over several hours, and no
strange noises were heard by reporters on board.
Yet the sensitives insisted lots were going on. ``We visualized the
cook, someone jovial and proud to be here, and we felt the presence of a
little girl in the hold," said Renee Blais, 39. ``My head is overflowing
with names."
The video, photos, and recordings collected on the ship will be closely
analyzed before the group submits a report to the museum, Laird said.

Before wrapping up just after midnight, three of the women spent an hour
perched on wooden crates in the ship's forecastle, a dark space lined
with bunks, where they said they were communicating telepathically with
several men who worked on the whaling ship centuries ago.
Stephanie Miller, a 50-year-old insurance professional and part-time
ghost hunter, said the ship itself had also spoken to her.

``It´s a happy ship, and it has a story to tell," she said.