The Paranormal

Investigations by a White Witch

The staff at the new Post Office Counters Distribution Centre, built at Aylesford in 1994, seemed from the very earliest days to have more than an unfair share of ill-luck. In fact, in many cases, it was too slight a term to call it ill-luck; it was very serious personal misfortune which in some instances was deeply damaging to those involved. In the first three years of the building's existence each one of the twenty three employees experience alarming personal disturbances. There was a variety of tragic domestic and work-related problems. There were illnesses, breakdowns, marital problems, the unexpected deaths of relatives, broken hearts and a whole range of other dramatically upsetting matters.

There seemed to be no accounting for such adversity. No one had ever before experienced such a run of troubles, spread as it was, right across the workforce. It was certainly beyond any reasonable expectation, far beyond coincidence. And not unnatuarally the men and women working there began to talk among themselves, speculating about what might be the cause of so many unhappy afflictions. As one of them said at the time: 'You try every rational explanation but it's been three years now and everyone in regular contact with this place suffers from it.'

What the employees had begun to feel was that there was something extraordinary about their workplace. It was new, a modern industrial unit which ought to have been a pleasure to work in, but it was somehow depressing. There were even some who believed that they had seen apparitions in the building. It was almost, some staff dared to think, as if it was cursed. There were suggestions that these worries ought to be addressed to senior officials but there was some fear about how such concerns might be received. What were people at head office going to think if they received a letter from staff at Aylesford saying that they thought the building was cursed? It is likely to be dismissed as silly, hysterical nonsense.

And it was at that point, in the summer of 1997, that someone proposed calling in Kevin Carlyon. Some of them had read about him in the newspapers; others had seem his at times on Meridian News or heard him on the radio. Why not ask him if he could help? It would be unofficial, of course. No one at head office would likely to sanction calling in a witch. But it was worth a try and so they contacted him at his home in St Leonards, near Hastings, East Sussex.

Kevin Carlyon would prefer, by the way, not to be described as a 'white witch'. 'Practitioner of Earth Magic' is what he calls himself, though he accepts the other title as a better understood and perhaps more convenient shorthand. He is High Priest of The Covenant of Earth Magic, the world's largest coven. He believes in the power of the earth's energy, and it is this which he invokes as he practises healing ills, both physical and psychic and as he intercedes on behalf of those experiencing a wide range of other difficulties.

But in imagining him, forget forget the witches you have read about. Put out of your mind the sinister figures of plays and films. Kevin Carlyon is a very large, amiable sort of man with a blonde pony-tail. According to one of his friends, he looks more like the lead guitarist of Iron Maiden than a witch. Others see some resemblance in the six feet four inch man to an American wrestler. But Kevin is realistic and practical, a man who is cautious about responding to every call to get rid of troublesome ghosts or evil spirits. He says that sometimes pubs have called him in simply to confirm a non-existent ghost. Ghosts, apparently, can be good for business. But when he received the call for help from the staff at Aylesford he was convinced that there was something genuinely troubling them.

On 17th July 1997, accompanied by his wife Sandie, the priestess of the coven, and Doug Kempster of the Sunday Mirror, Kevin went to the building at Aylesford. There, they were met by two of the managers who took them inside in the early evening after all staff had gone home.

The two witches began by visiting every room, sprinkling water around the edges, and in each one leaving crystals charged at nearby Kit's Coty, a neolithic burial ground. This was to ensure the building's protection from alien and evil influences. It was in the kitchen that they had the most curious sensation, for here the temperature had fallen dramatically. It was, says Kevin, 'like a freezer'. And it was in this room that the hair on the back of Sandie's and Doug Kempster's heads stood up on end as though they had suddenly received an electric shock. It was quite uncanny. There was undoubtedly something unpleasant here.

After the rooms had been visited and each in turn protected by water, Kevin, aided by his priestess, set about ceremoniously cleansing and purifying the building - exorcising it, others would say - invoking the four elements, turning to the north for Earth, the east for Air, the south for Fire and the west for Water.

The ceremony, which lasted half an hour, head just ended when the sky blackened over and there was a violent and most unexpected storm, with howling winds and huge hailstones. This storm, scarcely experience the the town three quarters of a mile away, lasted ten minutes and then it stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

And then, the entity, whatever it was, lest the building. There was an immediate sense of lightness, of calm and peace. It was as though a burden had been lifted. And on their return to work, the staff too, sensed that some kind of change had been effected. Certainly, the undue succession of severe misfortunes which had so troubled them for three years never again manifested itself.

Kevin was unsure precisely what it was that cast its shadow over Aylesford. Some staff had offered the opinion that they were cursed by gypsies, who, in 1994 were evicted from the ground when the Post office decided to build their new unit there. But Kevin inclines to the view that the building lies on a ley line which runs directly from Lower Kit's Coty, it had been receiving a negative stream of energy which had been responsible for what occurred. Perhaps that is the answer.

Among his more recent ventures Kevin has been called on to visit the Ross Revenge, a former Icelandic trawler, which since 1983 has been the second seaborne of Radio Caroline. From 1967, this pirate radio station had been broadcasting pop music to Britain and Holland from outside territorial waters to the chagrin of the two governments, and the delight of millions of young people. Its freebooting days came to an end in 1991 when the Ross Revenge ran aground on the Goodwins. The vessel was refloated and towed into Dover for a refit. But then new legislation made it no longer possible to continue the broadcasts.

Since then, Radio Caroline has operated legally with a restricted licence, broadcasting each weekend via satellite. Some may regret this new respectability but the old pirate still has something from its past for the fact is that ever since Caroline has been in operation aboard this ship, it has had its own ghost.

Right from 1983 when the Ross Revenge began its new career as a radio ship, the ghost called 'Sailor Sam' in his sou'wester and oilskins has been sighted in various parts of the vessel. The first time 'Sam' appeared he walked through the mast. Nonsense, some said. Imagination, others added. Booze, yet others opined. But since then 'Sam' has been spotted with some regularity especially in the forepeak, the narrow part of the hold at the front of the ship, as well as on deck, in the galley and the toilet.

It was more the spirit of general curiosity that lead to Kevin and Sandie being invited to investigate the mysterious apparition. In June 1999, they paid their first visit to the Ross Revenge, at that time anchored off Sheerness. From what they had learned previously it was clear to them that this was no publicity stunt. The telephone calls they made to former members of staff before their arrival and the comments they heard from those aboard dispelled any doubts about the existence of 'Sailor Sam'.

When they talked to the crew and DJs it was apparent that none of them was especially alarmed by 'Sam'. There were those who were a shad nervous and who would not venture alone into the forepeak but, nevertheless, everyone seemed to believe that he intended no harm. In fact, Peter Moore, the station manager, believed that he appeared to forewarn of trouble. For example, he was certain that in 1987, immediately after the great storm, 'Sam' appeared to DJ Nigel Harris and pointed at the mast. The next day, weakened by the force of the storm, the mast collapsed into the sea. Nigel's view was that the apparition was well disposed to the ship and the crew. Having seen him five times, he was completely pro-'Sam'.

Another of the DJs,Caroline Martin, explained her conviction that in 1989 'Sam' turned up just before the station was forced off the air temporarily by the British and Dutch governments.

In the course of their initial tour of the vessel, the two investigators were first aware of something different, of something in the atmosphere, when they went into the engine room and forepeak. These were quite unlike any other of the places they inspected. 'Both sent shivers up our spines and it certainly wasn't the static of the transmitters,' Kevin says. 'I can honestly say I have never felt such a strong presence.'

A few weeks later, in August 1999, the two witches joined the ship once more, spending the first night aboard at Southend before being towed the next day to an anchorage off Queenborough, on the Isle of Sheppey, Kent. After an essential briefing on the functioning of the generators and navigation lights, the couple were left alone on board the Ross Revenge.

It was on the second evening, as they watched the TV news, that Kevin and Sandie heard the sound of footsteps on the deck above the mess room and galley. Had someone sneaked aboard? Was someone out to make fools of the two observers? They went up on deck.

During the course of the subsequent search, Sandie fore, and Kevin aft, the ship's bell in the mess room rang twice. Despite their wide experience of the paranormal both the investigators had the powerful and uneasy sense of some presence, just as they had on their previous visit. There was almost a tingle in the air. Then came an overpowering smell of fish and all the lights went out. The generator had stopped.

Collecting their torch, the couple went down into the haunted forepeak and found the source of the trouble. There was a fuel blockage from the main tank. Without lights, the Ross Revenge was now highly vulnerable. This is part of the world's busiest sea lane and it was possible that some vessel - perhaps a tanker - might run down the unlit ship.

While Kevin returned to the forepeak, Sandie stayed up on deck, optimistically flashing torches to alert other ships to their position. Below decks there was still the stink of fish, and no immediate solution to the problem. And both now heard the ship's bell ring again and then came the sound of music from the studio ... Isadora played be the Dutch band Illusion. Odd that, an old seventies number, which they used to play years earlier on the Mi Amigo, the original home of Caroline. Odd, too, that that should have been one of Kevin's old favourites. But even odder than anything was the fact that there was no power on board!

It was as he returned to the deck that Kevin saw the figure in the yellow oilskins walk into the transmitter room. He followed the apparition but he was not surprised to find the room empty. Then came a yell from Sandie up on deck. She too had seen 'Sailor Sam'.

Shortly afterwards Kevin and Sandie managed to fill the small generator with diesel. Power was restored and life aboard returned to what loosely be called normal. Although for the next two days and nights they remained alert, there were no other experiences worthy of recording save for the sound of occasional footsteps. 'Sailor Sam' failed to put in a second appearance.

Back home in St Leonards, Kevin and Sandie have pondered the curious case on board the Ross Revenge. Why, they wondered, does 'Sailor Sam' usually show himself only when broadcasting begins? Why, when the Ross Revenge was off the air in 1991 and part of 1992, did he never appear? Why on Easter Sunday 1992, the day when broadcasting began again legally, did he put in an appearance? What does seem to be the case is that he responds to broadcasting. Or rather that he is activated, given some kind of boost, an electrical charge, when the transmitters are turned on.

There does appear to be a connection between electrical energy and the raising of an otherwise dormant spirit. Nevertheless, on the occasion when Kevin and Sandie saw him, there was no power, the generator had failed, and so this presents a further puzzle. At least, there was no power through the normal channels though there was enough from some unidentified source to activate the music in the studio.

And who is the dormant spirit? In its time as a trawler there were two fatal accidents aboard the Ross Revenge. In one a sailor became entangled in the fishing nets and was pulled overboard and lost. A second crew member died in a fire in the forepeak. One of these, it would seem, is the ghost of the Ross Revenge, raised by the sheer strength of some energy source.

The Carlyons continue their work, responding to the concerns of the many people who call upon them with a variety of psychic conundrums. They remain convinced that much paranormal activity is rooted in surges of energy, that from these string many of the seemingly incomprehensible phenomena which so disturb us. As for the Ross Revenge, they will undoubtedly return there to investigate further the case of 'Sailor Sam'.