A Ghost Tour at Q Station, Manly

Do you believe in ghosts? I do - now! A ghost tour at Q Station,  the old quarantine station at Manly in Sydney's north, will shake the scepticism out of the most ardent non-believer.

It is well after dark. We have had a long, enjoyable dinner at the Boilerhouse Restaurant where, under the guidance of chef Matt Kemp, the food is nothing short of spectacular. Bob, our ghost hunting guide, meets us below the giant stairway which leads to the upper levels of Q Station. Earlier today we were told contestants on The Biggest Loser run up and down these stairs as part of their weight-loss regimes. I wonder how many don't make it - no wonder they say the place is haunted.

Bob believes in ghosts. Today, Q Station may be a modern hotel and conference centre, but not so many years ago it was a place of sickness, despair, desperation - and death. From 1838 until 1984 every migrant ship entering Sydney Harbour was checked for signs of infectious diseases. If any were found, all passengers and crew, the sick and the healthy, were sent straight to the quarantine station where they remained - sometimes for months on end until cleared of any risk of infection. The hospital wards, decontamination facilities and accommodation blocks at Q Station saw epidemics of smallpox, typhus, Spanish flu and bubonic plague. Some patients recovered. Some although unlucky to have been on a ship with the ill never got sick and some, more than 500 in all, died. Tonight it is the dead we hope, or perhaps fear, to meet.

Our first stop is the decontamination block, with its ghastly looking open showers where new arrivals stripped and washed in a burning concoction of water and carbolic soap. Did anyone die here? It doesn't seem to matter. The ghosts come back to re-visit the site of their humiliation. There are ten of us in our little group.  Bob waves us into the building with instructions to leave our lanterns at the door and wait half way down the long, dark, eerie corridor.

The atmosphere feels heavy with the weight of menacing poltergeists. Bob's voice rises and falls with an hypnotic and yet strangely soothing tone as he tells stories of the block's otherworldly inhabitants. A couple of girls in the group let out little nervous spurts of laughter. Another woman, about my age, declares her steadfast belief in the afterlife. I am a cynic - along for the ride. I am open-minded but not a believer in any sense.

Bob warns us not to enter the shower cubicles. I don't know why. I am not sure I want to know but it is too late - I am standing at the open door to a cubicle and there is something behind me, and above me, in the dark. It isn't human - at least not in the living and breathing sense of the word. I feel an overwhelming urge to step to one side, to put the comfort of a wall between me and whatever supernatural force is in the shower  - but I can't. My feet won't move. It is as if I am doomed to be a participant in the night's unnatural drama. Bob's voice continues its melodic hypnosis, the girls giggle again, the presence behind me edges closer - and I await my fate.

The shower block. It looks innocuous during the day but I dare you to visit at night.

Bob switches on his torch and the spell is broken. The tour is moving on. We are given a last chance to walk the long corridors again - alone. No-one takes up the offer. Was I the only one who felt the presence of an 'other'?

Our next stop is the morgue. It is dark again - of course! There is the outline of a human shape laying under a sheet on a concrete slab in the centre of the room. Bob's soporific voice sets the scene once more. He asks for a volunteer to lay a hand on the corpse's chest - just to check it is really dead. One of the men steps forward. There are three men in our group all of them braver, or more foolhardy, than the women. Bob has a trick awaiting us this time - at least I think it was a trick. I won't spoil the surprise by telling you what it was, but just as our volunteer touches the sheet the girls all squeal. Even the men jump backwards. I don't feel the presence of the supernatural in the way I did in the shower block but I am startled nevertheless.

I confess that I had fun editing this photo taken in Q Station's morgue.

Our last port of call is the hospital ward. This is where people recovered - or died. Those who died did so alone. Not even their closest relatives were allowed in to comfort them. No wonder some of the dead were never able to find peace.  Bob asks if any of us feel unusually hot or cold. He tell us this is a sign that there may be ghosts in the room. No one owns up. I feel uncomfortably warm but I'm not saying so. I put it down to having too warm a jacket on - but who knows, perhaps my encounter with the supernatural didn't end in the shower block.

Do you believe in ghosts? I do now!

The Ghost Tours at Q Station Manly

The Q Station has a reputation for being the most haunted place in Sydney. It has various ghost tours ranging from Family Tours for anyone over the age of 8 years to Extreme Ghost Tours and Ghostly Sleepovers for the over 18s. Visitors can even work alongside paranormal investigators on the Paranormal Investigation Experiences. 

Click - here - for information on times, prices and conditions.

My Tip: If you want the full experience, set the mood with dinner and wine at The Boilerhouse Restaurant and listen to Bob with an open mind, then spend the night in a hotel room at Q Station.   You might find the shower block and old hospital aren't the only haunted area. 

Note: David and I stayed as guests of Q Station.

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