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Anyone had any scary/paranormal experiences on the bank?

Fishing the lower Severn on a summer's evening a few years ago it had been dark for an hour or so and a light mist was forming in the river valley.
I heard youthful voices coming from the direction of the car park a couple of fields away and saw bobbing lights from a couple of mobile phones approaching along the top of the flood bank which was 20 or so yards behind me.
The group of two lads and two girls were slowly working their way along the top of the floodbank and I could hear their chatter. 'it's just a bit further along here' said one of the lads 'there's s a metal railing where we did it' he added and the girls giggled.
When they were around 50 yards away one of them said 'is that someone down there?' 'No,' said one of the guys, 'it's a tree' said the other.
'I think it's someone' said a girl, now sounding a bit on edge. I just remained perfectly still, standing next to my rods. 'it's definitely a tree' said one guy but he didn't sound at all convinced. 'well, I'm going to go and see!' announced the other lad, the bravado of his words failing to mask a rising tremor in his voice.
The mist was thickening now and from my spot next to the river I saw the bouncing light slowly making it's way down the floodbank towards my peg. When it was 20 yards away, in my best Vincent Price voice, I slowly and loudly said 'Good evening, may I help you?'
What followed was a muffled shriek from the light, which wasn't bobbing anymore and then more shrieking from the top of the floodbank as the group hightailed it back towards the carpark without waiting for their mate to catch up, although he was doing his best to do so.
I wonder what story they told their mates in the days that followed?
 
I've had a few unexplained experiences over the years, one of the strangest was when I went to my visit my deceased grandmother in the undertaker's 'chapel of rest'. I'm a logical and methodical sort of bloke and was well prepared for the experience but it went completely differently to what I was prepared for and opened my mind to the possibility of 'spirits'. I've never tried to really understand and wouldn't wish to delve further. A family member who does involve herself in such matters confirmed some days later that she had experienced the same as I had when visiting my grandmother a couple of hours after me.

I now believe that there is something there that we don't understand but am not afraid of it, probably because I'm open-minded I just let it pass me by. It's not confirmation bias as I try to discount all other possibilities first. The wierdest experience of all was when I was serving 'deep sea' crossing the Pacific approaching midnight......but I'll leave you all 'hanging' on that one.....
 
Fishing a local tarn for tench,the place always gives me the creeps,it's in a wood,surrounded by marshland with only one way in and out via wooded walk way.Years ago a bloke killed himself there by drowning. I was on one evening and somebody had recently place flowers on one off the platforms,I'm assuming this was for the suicide victim,anyway as it was going dark I glanced over and on that platform a figure appeard, as I said only one way in and out off that place and I'm sat near the entrance and nobody passed me,anyway that figure begins to walk round in my direction,not making a sound with his feet on the wooded walkway,as he nears me something in my head says don't turn round to greet him,he passed behind me and never made a sound and disappeared along the walkway into the trees no sound no noise from the gate being latched nothing......
 
I've told this story before on here, but here goes again.

I was fishing the Dove just downstream of Tutbury. It was a very misty night. I could see the lamp posts shining through the mist. The mist would lift and then drop, making the night very atmospheric and ever so slightly spooky. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone stood in the field near the road watching me. I'd look round again, and they'd be gone. It seemed every time the mist dropped, they'd be stood there. The mist lifted, they'd be gone. Very un nerving. It came time to pack up and go home. I started to walk back to the car, which meant walking straight towards the person who'd been watching me all night. As I got to where the person had been standing, the "person" turned out to be the life belt holder.

Slightly off the topic, but on a similar vein. One of my friends who I played Rugby with was, to say the least, "a little handy" He'd lost his mum when he was only 18 and had gone off the rails a bit. He took up boxing to help channel his anger. He also worked on a pig farm, so was very strong as well. He is a top bloke and would do anything for you, but you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him. Anyway, he'd took his wife and two daughters to London on what was probably the first time he'd ever been there. They did all the sights and found themselves in, I think, Tussauds ghost area. Now, when he got in situations like the dark, spooky Ghosty areas, Dave would get a little jumpy. Well, someone from Tussauds who was dressed as a Ghost, jumped out on my mate and frightened him. Dave did no more than chined this person and knocked him out. As soon as he'd hit him he realised what he'd done and couldn't be any more upset. He apologised profusely, and made sure the guy was alright. All was ok in the end, and to this day Dave says the guy frit him and he just lashed out in fear.
 
There is pond close to the village where I grew up. It was dug in the 1880s to take water from the local ironstone mines when they were operating. It is in the middle of a dense wood and is actually a very pretty little fishery, surrounded on all sides by mature trees. As kids we would sneak in and fish with cane rods and wine corks, but always in trepidation as the place was owned by the local Estate and was managed by a gamekeeper with a fearsome reputation and an even worse German Shepherd dog.
In the 80s it was taken on by a local fishing club and I joined, and it was a revelation to fish proper pegs and not be constantly worrying about being savaged by a dog or shot at with roadsalt( how times change). I loved fishing there and had some brilliant days but it always had an 'atmosphere'. I rarely would fish into dark, no reason why other than it didn't feel right.
Talking to my future father-in law, he nodded and and listened intently when I was saying to him how I loved fishing it in the day but it creeped me out at times.

He started to tell me a tale about how he'd been driving home after work one night many years ago, when he spotted someone running in the main road. He recognized the lad being from the village and slowed down to offer him a lift. The lad didn't want to talk, declined the lift and continued running apologizing for his haste and ran off into the night with something tucked under his arm.
The following morning, my father-in-law awoke to the news that there had been a horrendous murder in the village the previous night. A young husband had discovered that his wife had been unfaithful and in a fit of rage stabbed her to death. Such was his anger, he then decapitated her and ran off into the night, with her head under his arm. Yes , the same lad my F.I.L had stopped to pick up.
He ran into the woods, walked into the pond and his body was found there the next day. But the head wasn't??

And by all accounts he wasn't the first person to end it there.

It's now a carp syndicate, which I'm not a member of. I'm not really a scaredy cat but no way i'd be bivvying out in that place.
It just has that ominous feel as darkness falls, not helped by I know some of it's dark history👻
 
Back in the mid 90s I was fishing the Cherwell at Shipton one September night. The stretch was always nice to night fish below the railway bridge but never really felt the same upstream of the bridge. Nevertheless, I did fish it and accepted it wasn't very comfortable but some nice barbel could be caught. This particular night I heard something crashing through the undergrowth on the island opposite. The river spilt into two a bit further upstream and joined back into the one flow just before the bridge. Opposite where I fished there is also a derelict church. Whatever was crashing through the undergrowth was obviously not small and I assumed a muntjac or similar. I wasn't concerned and when it seemed to fall in the river I actually laughed. I heard it scrabbling out and making its way closer and so I shone the torch to see if I could pick up its eyes. I saw nothing and soon it had passed me and gone down towards the bridge. It was then that I heard it enter the river and begin to cross towards my bank. I got the torch and went to see what it was, fully expecting to see a deer. But here was nothing there. This was not a nice moment, and my complacency at assuming I was listening to an animal crashing about in the dark soon turned to a very uncomfortable feeling of unease. I fished for another 15 minutes or so, but concentrating on the rod was now impossible and I packed up and left.
A few years later I was fishing below the bridge and a couple walking their dog on the opposite bank stopped to talk. The river is narrow here so conversation was easy enough. The couple commented on the very interesting information on the church wall, something I had never been aware of. Apparently, in the late 19th century I think, the bridge at Shipton on Cherwell had been the scene of Great Western Railways worst ever disaster, with a train coming off the bridge and killing over 30 people. How this may relate to the mysterious creature crashing through the undergrowth but not being visible isn't immediately obvious. But it did make me wonder if it had anything to do with the very negative atmosphere that always seemed to prevail above the bridge.
 
Alex Gowney said:
Back in the mid 90s I was fishing the Cherwell at Shipton one September night. The stretch was always nice to night fish below the railway bridge but never really felt the same upstream of the bridge. Nevertheless, I did fish it and accepted it wasn't very comfortable but some nice barbel could be caught. This particular night I heard something crashing through the undergrowth on the island opposite. The river spilt into two a bit further upstream and joined back into the one flow just before the bridge. Opposite where I fished there is also a derelict church. Whatever was crashing through the undergrowth was obviously not small and I assumed a muntjac or similar. I wasn't concerned and when it seemed to fall in the river I actually laughed. I heard it scrabbling out and making its way closer and so I shone the torch to see if I could pick up its eyes. I saw nothing and soon it had passed me and gone down towards the bridge. It was then that I heard it enter the river and begin to cross towards my bank. I got the torch and went to see what it was, fully expecting to see a deer. But here was nothing there. This was not a nice moment, and my complacency at assuming I was listening to an animal crashing about in the dark soon turned to a very uncomfortable feeling of unease. I fished for another 15 minutes or so, but concentrating on the rod was now impossible and I packed up and left.
A few years later I was fishing below the bridge and a couple walking their dog on the opposite bank stopped to talk. The river is narrow here so conversation was easy enough. The couple commented on the very interesting information on the church wall, something I had never been aware of. Apparently, in the late 19th century I think, the bridge at Shipton on Cherwell had been the scene of Great Western Railways worst ever disaster, with a train coming off the bridge and killing over 30 people. How this may relate to the mysterious creature crashing through the undergrowth but not being visible isn't immediately obvious. But it did make me wonder if it had anything to do with the very negative atmosphere that always seemed to prevail above the bridge.
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Anthony Crampton said:
Sounds like the same place that Tony Miles had a harrowing experience. He had waded across to the island. I’m sure a few on here will have read about it .
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No it isn't the same area Anthony, it's a few miles downstream. The area Tony fished was Bletchingdon, above the road bridge. My experience wasn't as scary as Tony's by any means. Interestingly enough, I did fish that area with a couple of friends one night and at one point each one of us was surrounded by a small patch of mist. Tony relates in the book about the island becoming shrouded in mist when he had his frightening experience. We didn't experience anything other than the mist, which was obviously some atmospheric phenomenon.
 
Alex Gowney said:
No it isn't the same area Anthony, it's a few miles downstream. The area Tony fished was Bletchingdon, above the road bridge. My experience wasn't as scary as Tony's by any means. Interestingly enough, I did fish that area with a couple of friends one night and at one point each one of us was surrounded by a small patch of mist. Tony relates in the book about the island becoming shrouded in mist when he had his frightening experience. We didn't experience anything other than the mist, which was obviously some atmospheric phenomenon.
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Still pretty unnerving though Alex !
 
Fishing a night session in a field, a big bright full moon was out & one of those lovely occasions where there was no need for a headtorch....

The fog hanging low to the ground like a thick white blanket & not moving or lifting at about waist height.
I heard someone's thundering footsteps as this dark figure ran past me, towards the car parking area. A few moments later same thing happened in the opposite direction, & because of the low lying fog, all I saw run past me was the torso of this dark figure, no legs or anything, and in absolute silence, as I'm guessing the fog muffled out any noise!

I called out quite loudly to see if he was OK, no more than 5m away from where I was sat (more to reassure myself than anything else) but the figure didn't turn to me or acknowledge me. I thought 'F' that I'm off!

Packed up quicker than you can imagine, shit myself even more when I realised that in the locked up carpark that there was no other vehicles in there other than mine! 😂😂
 
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Was on the Loddon once, met up with a fishing buddy of mine after work. We always split the venue up and fish the opposite ends, making our way back towards one another for a coffee, before continuing our rove.

It got quite late into the evening & I thought it strange we hadn't bumped into one another as of yet.
But nonetheless I continued into my next swim. After about 15mins & from the corner of my eye I picked up what looked like a faint orange glow, just hanging mid air.

Curiosity got the better of me & after about 10mins in the pitch black, I kinda stumbled towards it, and just as I got close to it, this voice came out at me saying if I'd caught anything?

Oh my god, I jumped out of my skin!

It was my mates fading embers of his roll up that I walked towards, but I hadn't smelt the tobacco or heard anything from him, as it was pitch black.

He said we'd both arrived at the swim at the same time, and as my rod was baited & ready, he just eased himself lying back on the steep bank & watched me settle into the swim. Normally I hear everything, I use to smell his cigarettes from a long way off, so used that as my guage as to his location, but not this time! 😂

Yeah he got me a good un that night bless him!
 
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This is our view out of our lounge window. We've lived here since '99. In all those years, we've never seen anything untoward.
 
Not strictly on the bank, but as I was on a fishing holiday it is near enough.
Isle of Sky, 21st May this year , about 11.25 am .
We were doing a tour of the northern tip of Skye , and came across a ruined church at a place called Hallin , which is a very isolated headland, no houses nearby at all .

The graveyard was still in use , but had some very old graves in evidence . My wife is a photographer and once we find somewhere interesting she spends quite some time composing shots, leaving me to amuse myself . I took a couple of quick snaps on my phone and wandered around looking at a few war graves , and some much older ones .
Our car was parked nearby, no other vehicles at all , nice day , no sound but the occasional Curlew.
I was crouched down reading the inscription on one of the graves when suddenly I was startled by a softly spoken voice saying “ Its a good place to rest when your time is over “ the voice was male with a soft highland accent.
I stood up and looked around, stood about 8 feet away there was an elderly gent, about 80 ish I would say ,tall, slim, clean shaven wearing a black suit,and black tie , quite out of place really . The suit was of a very “ dated “ appearance . The man had very shiny shoes , and a shock of grey hair which was neatly trimmed . He was very smart in an old fashioned way .
I said something like “ Yes its lovely here “ the man nodded and said “ All my family are here and he pointed to a grave , saying “ My younger sister , I visit her most days”

I nodded and said “Thats a lovely thing to do, and she is resting in a lovely place”

We stood together for a moment looking at the grave, the man said “I must be away now” He walked away behind the ruins of the church . I stood for a few seconds looking where the man had walked , and my wife appeared from the same direction that the man had walked off . I asked her if she had seen the man as he passed she said no , there was nobody here but us two . It was impossible for him to have vanished, there was nowhere to go, just the ruin of the church, basically a single wall, the graveyard and the surrounding fields .
I quickly searched around , nobody in the car park , nobody walking over the fields etc. The gate to the graveyard had not clanged shut as it did when we entered .
I told my wife what had happened, she took it in her stride , we went to the grave that the man had pointed out .I took a quick snap on my iphone.

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Noticing the name Mackinnon I thought that maybe her brother was buried here , then realised her surname was her married name . Taking the year of her death, 1944, age 41 years and she had been his younger sister , he should be probably a year older at least .

You do the sums .

He should have been at least 121 years
old .
Looking back it was so peaceful there nothing seemed out of place , nothing sending “shivers up your spine” .
In fact both my wife and I said if we had to meet a ghost he would be the type to settle your nerves , even though she had not seen him.I saw the man , spoke to him and it is in my library of the unexplained .

David
 
David Craine said:
Not strictly on the bank, but as I was on a fishing holiday it is near enough.
Isle of Sky, 21st May this year , about 11.25 am .
We were doing a tour of the northern tip of Skye , and came across a ruined church at a place called Hallin , which is a very isolated headland, no houses nearby at all .

The graveyard was still in use , but had some very old graves in evidence . My wife is a photographer and once we find somewhere interesting she spends quite some time composing shots, leaving me to amuse myself . I took a couple of quick snaps on my phone and wandered around looking at a few war graves , and some much older ones .
Our car was parked nearby, no other vehicles at all , nice day , no sound but the occasional Curlew.
I was crouched down reading the inscription on one of the graves when suddenly I was startled by a softly spoken voice saying “ Its a good place to rest when your time is over “ the voice was male with a soft highland accent.
I stood up and looked around, stood about 8 feet away there was an elderly gent, about 80 ish I would say ,tall, slim, clean shaven wearing a black suit,and black tie , quite out of place really . The suit was of a very “ dated “ appearance . The man had very shiny shoes , and a shock of grey hair which was neatly trimmed . He was very smart in an old fashioned way .
I said something like “ Yes its lovely here “ the man nodded and said “ All my family are here and he pointed to a grave , saying “ My younger sister , I visit her most days”

I nodded and said “Thats a lovely thing to do, and she is resting in a lovely place”

We stood together for a moment looking at the grave, the man said “I must be away now” He walked away behind the ruins of the church . I stood for a few seconds looking where the man had walked , and my wife appeared from the same direction that the man had walked off . I asked her if she had seen the man as he passed she said no , there was nobody here but us two . It was impossible for him to have vanished, there was nowhere to go, just the ruin of the church, basically a single wall, the graveyard and the surrounding fields .
I quickly searched around , nobody in the car park , nobody walking over the fields etc. The gate to the graveyard had not clanged shut as it did when we entered .
I told my wife what had happened, she took it in her stride , we went to the grave that the man had pointed out .I took a quick snap on my iphone.

View attachment 26140

Noticing the name Mackinnon I thought that maybe her brother was buried here , then realised her surname was her married name . Taking the year of her death, 1944, age 41 years and she had been his younger sister , he should be probably a year older at least .

You do the sums .

He should have been at least 121 years
old .
Looking back it was so peaceful there nothing seemed out of place , nothing sending “shivers up your spine” .
In fact both my wife and I said if we had to meet a ghost he would be the type to settle your nerves , even though she had not seen him.I saw the man , spoke to him and it is in my library of the unexplained .

David
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David, did you have a wee dram with your porridge that morning??

Joking aside what an encounter made the hairs on my neck rise.....spooky
 
Several years ago on my local river at about 7pm I heard a crowd of people and thought "oh shite I have to walk that way soon" it was November so dark at that time. As I walked up from the swim there was some lighting from behind the gorse and bramble as I walked through into the open field there were over fifty people running around shouting and making knocking noises, what the heck is this, was not the word that came out of my mouth. I stuck to my footpath as I walked rod rest at the ready to the van, whilst looking at was was going on, a figure approached me I noticed it was dressed in costume. " Any luck" he asked as he saw my fishing gear, " just two good Chub" what the heck are you doing I asked " oh its a battle re-enactment from the Civil War", "at 7pm at night" I said "we have too at this time as too many people are around through the day" he replied "ah that answers a lot" I said we laughed " we do them here a lot" he said "well I have never seen you before and I fish here a hell of a lot" he shrugged and ran off into battle with the Parliamentarians.

This stretch of river has a little car park that is home to nightworkers of both sexes which has seen me witness some interesting things? There used to be a bigger car park that was a regular haunt for doggers ( normally without their dogs) this was sadly closed many years ago !
 
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