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I gotta say, our time in the First Class Pool during this investigation was NUTS. There were disembodied voices, equipment malfunctions, phantom smells, and stuff was thrown. There was something nasty in the pool that night and it managed to pull out every ghostly cliche trick in the book. It was like dealing with Casper’s annoying brothers. For this reason, I have included a few clips not for the ghost voices, but for the ghost activity. For more information regarding this activity including other EVP’s from one of our casual daytime visits to the ship, read over the case notes!

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We began our investigation in the Queen Mary Story, and while we captured bits of the girls on audio, I wanted to go straight to the good stuff. The strong activity began while we were crossing the bridge that leads over the boiler room. If you read the case notes, you know that instinct caused me to pause while crossing this same bridge back in August during a regular daytime tour. It felt like there was something angry lurking in the area. This time, I ventured a guess as to who our bridge troll might be. Though I wasn’t really expecting an answer, I had to ask the question:

I couldn’t hear the response at the time. I caught this voice during evidence review. I hear a very annoyed “no.” Could the man who answered me be a former employee still working in the now non-existent boiler room? Or was it John Henry who was pissed off that we were trekking through his space? Regardless of who it was, there was a very unwelcoming feeling that made investigator in training, Brittany, too uncomfortable to remain on the bridge. She and Jamie had already left the area by the time I slowed down to ask the question I had been wanting to ask since August.

Our next stop was the pool. This is where activity spiked. Passing through it the first time, we noticed the air was thick. By the time we came back and settled in for the investigation, the atmosphere had grown even thicker. Brittany was the first to be affected by whatever or whoever was in the pool with us. She felt ill and unsafe. It wasn’t long before she left the area for some air. While she was under the watchful eye of our awesome security guard, the honor of feeling ill shifted to me, and then to Jamie.

It’s annoying when you spend a great deal of time prepping your equipment for an investigation only to have it fail on sight. Unfortunately, it happens. And it happened on this night. When we went to sync our recorders, I found that one of mine, the Olympus, was quite stubbornly locked. It was fine when I packed it. I had just cleared everything off of it and checked it’s batteries. But no amount of button mashing would make it give up its death grip on the record button. Our first few minutes of audio is filled with me grunting and cussing at the recorder (like that will help).

The loss of an audio recorder is no big deal, but somehow you still end up arguing with it for ten minutes before giving up. I did the logical thing. I wrote it a letter:

In the span of about three minutes, we heard Jackie, a recorder started beeping on its own, measured a rapid spike in EMF, and caught three EVP’s, one of which decided to dismiss itself from the recorder later. Don’t even ask me how that can happen. I have no idea.

Noting the spike in activity toward Brian’s end of the pool, I thought it would be a good time to check the changing rooms. Though I never spend a great deal of time investigating in them, I usually check the area to see how it feels in comparison to the open space of the pool. (It’s also good to check for raccoons. There are two families of them that live just outside the ship and they have been known to wander into the pool. Crazy, no?)

Walking to the door, everything felt fine. But when I was a few feet from the entrance, I turned back around and, without thought, I sped back to the head of the pool. It took me a few moments to figure out what had just happened. I’m still chewing on it. Something was there. I could feel it. It felt predatory. And, when faced with the choice of fight or flight, my body chose for me. I have never experienced anything like it. I was shaking and had to fight not to panic.

Things like this automatically make me wonder if I am crazy, so I brought Jamie back to the entrance with me. She couldn’t go in either. To her, it felt like there was something trying to keep us out. It may not prove I am sane, but, like misery, insanity loves company. So I felt a bit better. We decided to camp just outside the door and began asking questions. This is where things started getting crazy.

Knowing that Stark is always around us and that his energy is always friendly even when he gets cheeky or grouchy, I asked if he was near us. We knew that whatever was making us uncomfortable, was not friendly.

In this clip you can hear Jamie asking Jackie if she is in the other room playing with a doll we left for her. Though she doesn’t answer, Jackie does enter the pool, her little “doh,” popping in just as the stubbornly locked Olympus somehow springs to life. I was the only one to hear Jackie at the time.

Just after Jackie comes in, Brian, noticing that the Olympus beeps on its own, begins to process this sudden spike in activity. At the time, none of us hear the male voice at the end of this clip that says, “Pat.” This name is significant because, at the time of capture,  it is the name of the ship’s resident paranormal investigator.

Gathering his senses, Brian begins to call out the rising EMF readings on his meter, unaware that we are also capturing more EVP’s. At the end of this clip, there is a “yeah” which sounds like it came from a female. During evidence review, we tagged another EVP which said “Bob,” another significant name; However, by the time I went to edit the audio, that EVP had vanished which still has us scratching our heads.

“Dear recorder, please behave yourself. Love Heather.” What I didn’t hear at the time was Sarah. Though difficult for my ears to pick apart from the other sound in the pool, Sarah does speak up in this clip. She says “That was me?” Was she taking responsibility for my recorder malfunctioning?

For optimal listening, make sure you listen to the sound clips with earbuds or headphones. If you have difficulty hearing the voices, try adjusting the volume. Due to the echo in this clip, turning the volume down helps minimize the background noise and actually makes the EVP clearer. For those of you who still can’t hear the voice at the end of the clip, in answer to my question, Stark says “yes.”

So Stark was there with us, which, we already knew, but I wanted to use the situation as a catalyst for capturing EVP’s. Knowing Sarah was there too, Jamie asked for her help in figuring out what or who was causing the oppressive feeling.

Listening to this, I’m not entirely sure that the tiny, faint, voice that gives Jamie her answer is Sarah. It sounds like Jackie to me. Regardless of which one of the girls it was, it wasn’t very helpful. The answer was: “Jamie.” Thank you Captain Obvious. I guess we will have to learn how to make our questions more specific.

The longer we stayed near the changing rooms, the more ill I felt. I was incredibly dizzy. My stomach was churning. I felt drained. All of these are common anecdotal symptoms of paranormal activity. But I don’t think I ever felt anything this strong. It actually started to worry me a little. Still, we stayed, trying to let our instincts guide us, and let our equipment pick up any evidence we could get. Again, I called on Stark. I thought if anyone could see what was affecting us, it would be him.

Stark was still around, but apparently he was in no position to help me with whatever was making me ill. This EVP is striking because it actually sounds like a voice. Generally, Stark sounds rather hoarse or whispered. It makes me wonder if Stark was answering, or if it was John Henry who I still suspected of being the one who was messing with us. The other striking quality about this voice is that it is very close to the microphone. There is no echo to it at all.

In this longer clip, you can hear me double over right after the male voice says “No.” I felt like someone was tying my stomach in a knot and pressing on my shoulders and head. And just after that, a tile falls or is tossed to the floor near Brian which would have been right above my head. I can’t even properly form a sentence at this point. “Whose keys are that?” What? I heard the words come out of my mouth, and was just as confused as you were.

From here, activity became more intimate. As you will hear, Jamie felt like the back of her neck was touched. She quickly dismissed it as her necklace moving along her neck. Oddly, the same thing happened to me just a second later. And before I had a chance to dismiss it, something lifted the metal zipper on my jacket and let it fall back down. You can hear it clink as I speak. I didn’t feel it. But I heard it.  And there was no way my movement caused it. I tried everything to replicate the movement, and the only thing I could do to make the same sound was to lift it with my fingers and let it drop. My jacket was unzipped right to my cleavage. At the risk of offering TMI, I tell you in order to better define “intimate.” Whatever was around us was ~touching~ us. At the time, we didn’t give it much thought. But, as I write this, I tell you, it rather creeps me out.

When logic fails, there is only one course of action left. Make Brian fix it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t unlock it either. So he set it aside on the table that he stationed himself next to.  Now you might be asking “WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS? GET TO THE GHOSTS!” Patience, my friend. Patience. All will be revealed.

Several minutes pass, and we’re doing our thing, asking questions and listening intently for responses or other odd noises and our attention is drawn to Brian at the opposite end of the pool. It takes him a moment to vocalize what’s happening. The best he is able to do is say “umm,” which, as you can probably imagine, isn’t helpful to the rest of us. So Jamie continues with her questions.

All together, this was some pretty crazy stuff. And if you read the case files, you know that the experiences didn’t stop there. From the smell of unfiltered cigarette smoke, to other instances of loose tiles getting thrown, moved, or dropped, this investigation delivered a taste of everything. 

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