Ghost Tour

Last weekend I took part in a Blanket Run through a local Ute Owners Club, we drove from town to town collecting blankets for a charity to hand out during the long Winter. (which is now here in Australia…)

Part of the weekends activities was to spend the night in a Haunted Jail out of use for the past 25 years. The 170 year old Gladstone Jail is a group of dark and threatening rock buildings with 4 inch thick Slate floors throughout. (try digging through that) 10 feet high walls within 12 foot high walls and yards within yards to make escape almost impossible. Internal walls are at least two feet thick and three feet thick on the outer walls, all ceilings are two to three feet of solid concrete so once inside our tiny freezing cells for the night it was deathly quiet. (read: peaceful) 
 *The tower right in the center of the jail

 *This is my room, just two beds wide with hardly enough room to shuffle between them sideways, I had to stand outside shooting through the doorway to get this shot, the beds were so hard I had to stack both mattresses on one bed...and it was still hard.

It’s mid-Winter here and below zero in the early mornings, the thick walls of the jail were like ice but we had equally thick blankets unlike the original prisoners, even so it was very, very cold.

Before bed we were treated to a well-run Ghost Tour… Dressed as dark and foreboding as the buildings, our hosts led us by flickering lantern throughout the buildings showing us where the most terrible atrocities and murders most bloody had taken place, we stood were once was slippery with human blood and at each stop we were invited to walk into the inky darkness alone. Only two of our group didn't jump at the chance to walk into ghost infested total darkness at least once.

 * along this wall between the outer and inner walls is where all the bodies are buried, They did many Lobotomies in this jail and apparently never had even one success. The mad, screaming and wasting prisoners led to the stories of haunting.

 * This is the Mortuary complete with plastic body under a sheet. (shot through a mesh door)

For my part I didn't see or feel any ghosts but two of our group said they felt something touching them… and it’s at least half true because we did touch Kev many times as we walked through the gloom of the jail.

Oh, we did all the tricks like touching him on the opposite shoulder so he turned that way only to find no one there, reaching behind each other so when he turned those next to him had hands in pockets.. All the while our hosts told blood curdling stories and kept the dim lights flickering.  We all joined in without a word of conspiracy and everyone kept a dead pan face as those around went in for another tap on his shoulder, in the end Kev was afraid to walk more than a few feet from the nearest person and flatly refused to walk into the darkness or even to look into some of the darkest, bloodiest rooms.

 * Kev before the Ghost Tour, we quickly wiped that smile off his face.

 *This three feet thick roof under the tower was built by English workers brought out to build the jail, the workers were the same ones that built the Titanic (true story)

By the end of the Ghost Tour Kev was White (whiter) and very, very quiet, he quickly excused himself and headed for his bed closing himself away behind the three inch thick heavy wood and steel door of his cell.

For those feeling sorry for Kev I should put your minds at rest by telling you he had spent the whole week bragging about how he’d been to many ghost infested places and never once felt ill at ease or frightened…so we fixed that for him.

*This dark and gloomy wing housed those who would never see daylight again, right at the end was the cell for the condemned. A short walk through a door to the hanging cell and a place against the inner wall for these poor souls

We fed his fears the next morning and all the next day and although I haven’t seen him all week I’m looking forward to his ever expanding tales of him single handed fighting off a host of ghosts.

OK, so I’m a cynic but I went in hoping to see ghosts and came away only slightly disappointed since the tour and the fun we had with Kev more than made up for the lack of blood dripping ghoulies.  We took many photos of everything and nothing but so far we don't seem to have captured more than a few ghosts….

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stuff!

Paybacks are a Bitch

It took a while for the two fellows I had paint themselves Black to get back at me… but I always knew it was still coming.

It was several months later and I had a BBQ party to go to on a Sunday afternoon, Id decided I didn't want to drink so much that I couldn’t drive home so arrived with just a few beers to find these two blokes among the gathering crowd.

It was the usual Aussie BBQ with plenty of food and alcohol to keep everyone merry until quite late. Eventually though I reluctantly headed for my car and home and bed to be ready for work Monday morning.

As I walked out to the car there was nothing that looked out of place, I opened the drivers door and was immediately aware of a sickly sweet smell throughout the car. Someone had splashed a large amount of cheap perfume all over the interior of my car, not nice!... but I chuckled as I considered that this was their crumby revenge.

I didn't notice anything as I reached for my seat belt, didn't notice anything as I put the key into the ignition and started the motor, was relieved that they hadn’t thought to disable my motor… Didn't notice anything until I popped the lights on and looked forward and didn't see anything… nothing at all, it was totally Black.

Confused for a second I flicked on the wipers and heard them bump their way up and back but continued to see nothing, I got out and ran my hand across the glass and realized it had been painted…painted Black.

It was only then I heard the laughing behind me and turned to see most of the remaining people standing together in the shadows watching me and trying not to fall over from the laughing.

I remembered the craft knife in my console and quickly retrieved it, fully extended the blade and leaned right out across the window to try scraping the paint off,  a long curl of dry paint fed off the sharp edge as I drew it across the window and I leaned forward to take another bite. As I worked my way up and then down the window the laughter slowly died away as they saw how easily I dealt with the painted glass.

At last and quite satisfied with the result I climbed back into the car and reached for the key again only to be stopped dead in my tracks by the sight through the windscreen…Black!

I reached forward but knew before I touched the glass that it was covered in paint as well, the bastards had painted both sides of the glass with pressure packs of Flat Black Paint and used the perfume so I wouldn’t smell the paint inside the car.

I felt defeated but reached into the console to retrieve the craft knife once more to scrape the glass from top to bottom in long smooth strokes. This time the light poured through as soon as I made the first scrape and the vista slowly opened before me to show the twenty people now standing right in front of the car laughing once more. A few couldn’t resist the effects of gravity and laughter and ended up rolling on the ground in front of my car.

It wasn’t until morning the next day that I fully saw the damage.

Black Paint all over the window frame, over spray on mirrors and bonnet and much worse inside the car, the dash, roof, gauges… damn Black Paint everywhere.

At the time I was driving an old Ford Wagon that was past its use by date and as reliable as a pensioners erection.  I was saving for another car so I didn't try very hard to clean the car but merely scraped the windows so I could see and drove on for another six months before buying another car and having this one crushed. (I really did have it crushed flat)

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Call me Ghillie.

An old work mate of mine who catches up from time to time dropped by with a question in mind.

“Mate, do you still have that Ghillie suit?”

Well, actually I do…and the several metres of camo cloth I used to wrap the rifle when hunting many, many years ago. (for some reason the market for secondhand Ghillie Suits is still rather flat)

It emerged that for reasons un-discussed he needed a full camo suit for him and one other person.

Now some of you might be tempted to ask why he wanted the camo but I have learned from painful and bitter experiences that it is most often better Not to ask such questions…   I prefer to make up my own lies rather than listen to other peoples lies. He needed it to uh…oh…Oh hell, why would anyone need camo?

* Typical Ghillie suit normally used for Hunting and Photography

…anyway, as his over detailed and convoluted lie wound it’s way inevitably toward justification for needing such a suit my mind began to wander…. Hmm!

By the time he’d explained his need for the suit I’d hatched a plan myself…

Oh, he  needed the suit alright but I convinced him he needed much more, the whole camo set..

He needed the camo body paint as well…but it was all good, I still had a bit he could have. We arranged a few days for me to get it all together before he dropped by to pick it up.

A rummage through the kids Busy Box* and I’d found the left overs from a kids Face Painting Set. There was no Black but Yellow was nearly gone so I cleaned out the plastic jar and went to the shed.

In the cupboard where I keep thinners, auto paints and polishes there are also a few car beautification products. One of those is Kitten Tire Black Paint. Water based just like kids paints but this flexible paint is tenacious. It never comes out of cloths and the spilled spots seem to take nearly a week to wear off of my hands.

By the time the Ghillie suit was picked up it came with a set of different coloured body paints, a new brush and instructions to completely brush the very conspicuous face, neck and hands area with a good coat or two of the Black.

I didn't hear anything for several weeks but eventually the call came, I can remember it almost word for word but if I wrote it minus the swear words there wouldn’t be anything left for you to read.

I told him they had no choice but to let it wear off, and wear off it did.

With several washes a day they had convincingly Black faces for a week and bits here and there for nearly three weeks. They’d had to go to work like that and one of the two had gone to a parent/teacher interview.

They got me back of course, but that’s another story. 

*Scraps of paper, lace and any craft materials that may be needed… one day

*Spot me if you can...

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Disorder in the Court