The Dalby Spook

[simon]

Dalby Sensation

 

The Isle Of Man Examiner - Friday, February 19, 1932.

 

Listen to this story of the occult; to a description of incidents which beggar description, details, as far as we are able to present them of events which have no equal in fact or fiction; and yet, which are solemnly vouched for by people whose sanity brooks no question. It is the story of what has been elsewhere described as "the Spook of Dalby"; a "spook" which is not a "spook" nor, if we accept the word of responsible persons, is it the invention of an unbalanced mental state.

 

Residents in the west of the island are being fanned into a state of amazement and incredulity as the result of strange happenings which are reported to have taken place at the small farmstead know as Dorlish Cashen Farm, Dalby.

 

We have no desire to enter into the realms of journalistic sensation, and must say that when we first heard of these "incidents" we were disposed to be sceptical; frankly, to disbelieve. After enquiry into some of the circumstances, however, we are less inclined to be openly cynical, on the other hand we have had evidence given to us, by a responsible person, which compels us to confess to an awesome respect for the existence of some uncanny creature which appears to have mental powers equal to those of any human being, some hybrid creature of the rodent type which, it is claimed possesses powers of speech and reasoning to an extent that leaves us hopelessly perplexed, and impelled to believe the unbelievable.

 

The stories which have been told to us of this uncanny creature are probably being exaggerated in the retailing, but there is no getting away from the matter-of-fact narrative told to us by Mr James T. Irving, who resides at Dorlish Cashen, nor of the corroborative evidence of his wife and his bright 13 years' old daughter. Now "Jim" Irving is not a crank nor a half wit he is a man whose credentials will bear the strictest investigation. For many years he was the European representative of the Dominium Organ and Piano Co, a Canadian organisation with an extensive trade in Britain, and held power of attorney in the British Isles on their behalf. He purchased Dorlish Cashen Farm, with the idea of retiring, during the war, and has conducted it after the fashion of a small holding to give him an interest in life.

 

Mr Irving is a man of good social standing and a member of the Glenfaba Masonic Lodge. He is a man bordering on 60, bright and cheery, and a minutes' chat with him would convince anyone that there are "no bats in the belfry" where Mr Irving is concerned. And, even it were so, it would be difficult to obtain such convincing corroborative evidence as is obtainable from Mrs and Miss Irving of these amazing events which are the subject of comment, and of a certain amount of derision. Reflection, indeed, will give one cause to appreciate the fact that, in telling such a story, Mr Irving has nothing to gain; indeed, the fact that the story has got out has resulted in considerable annoyance and personal discomfort to him and even that of damage to his property, thanks to the crazy pranks of irresponsible young men from the Peel area, who have gone up to the house and committed several acts which are to their discredit.

 

In pursuit of fuller particulars about these peculiar happenings a representative of the "Examiner" set out, accompanied by a friend, on Wednesday evening. After parking their car at Glen Maye the pair commenced what promised to be a pleasant moonlight tramp, but were soon disillusioned, for they found themselves faced with a steep mountain climb up a narrow roadway, made treacherous by a glassy frozen surface. Only through the generous help of a glorious moon were they able to keep to the right path. During their climb they were entertained by some misguided youths who were endeavouring to pierce the still night with ghostly screams, but their efforts met with poor success. After many misgivings and fears as to having lost their way they eventually found the house they were looking for, perched right on top of the mountain, a lonely outpost over a mile from the nearest tenement. That night, however, the tenants were being kept company by a small crowd of curious sightseers, who met with poor reward for their strenuous tramp, as they stood about contemplating a building that offered little in the way of excitement or interest.

 

Our representative's reception by Mr Irving was anything but encouraging, when he learned the business he was on, but on being assured that we did not intend to fabricate a "cock and bull" story he kindly invited him into the house. Mr Irving immediately made it plain that he and his family were more than a little annoyed with certain newspaper reports that had put them in a ridiculous light. The crowds of idly curious had made them feel uncomfortable, and apart from the unpleasantness by notoriety, a few ruffians had even done damage to the property and had climbed on the roof and stuffed up the chimney, causing great discomfort to the tenants.

 

Embarking on his narrative with regard to the strange happenings, Mr Irving said that it was on Sunday, September 13th, when they first heard queer little tappings and knockings in the house, and put it down to the industry of some mouse. The noises continued for a few days and then they began to hear peculiar animal noises such as the blowing of a stoat or ferret, the spit of a cat and the barking of a dog. These noises continued for some time, and the narrator becoming perturbed, made many efforts to trap the animal, but without success. The family had by this time gained the impression that their uninvited guest was a stray rat, stoat or weasel.

 

Then, on October 20th, the father and daughter were given their glimpse of it, and they describe it as possessing a small ratlike body with a long bushy tail, body and tail being of a yellowish hue and the tail speckled with brown. Early in December they began to hear noises similar to a baby child beginning to talk and before long they heard definite words issuing from the walls. They were more curious than frightened, and tried to test their abnormal guest with little pieces of nursery rhyme, and before a week was out , they were hearing the rhymes repeated in a clear voice. From that time on this queer body has repeated parts of their conversations, has discussed their private lives with them, and has retailed gossip gleaned from outside.

 

On December 30th last, the animal again left his security behind the walls and emerged into the bedroom and threw one or two small objects from a shelf on to the floor. Mr Irving immediately made attempts to catch or kill it, but again proved unsuccessful. This time the family felt they had definitely established the identity of their "voice". This fantastic animal has sung to them and described their visitors to them, and on one occasion when Mr Irving timed it, it conversed and sang to them from 11pm to five minutes past three the next morning. Many more remarkable incidents were detailed by Mr Irving such as the throwing of safety pins and small objects through little crevices in the walls and other confirmatory items that we may not publish. By the time he had finished his strange story, our representative was more than a little bewildered. Asked if the strange animal had ever touched any food in the house, or damaged anything, Mr Irving emphatically told us that they had suffered no harm or inconvenience from it.

 

Answering other questions, Mr Irving said that there had not been any interference with his poultry, nor were the family at all scared of it. He was convinced that the strange thing had been with them for a long period and had become acquainted with their daily habits and conversation. Mr Irving agreed that the story bordered on the super-natural and ridiculous, but was anxious to get authorative confirmation of the strange incidents. He stressed the point that there was no purpose in his inventing such a weird yarn, as he could not turn the thing to financial advantage; in fact it had caused him loss owing to the damage caused by ill mannered rowdies, who, apparently disappointed at the result of their trail into this lonely outpost, had caused deliberate damage to property. He did not agree with the suggestion that the noises were from the spirit world and definitely disagreed with spiritualism. His opinion was that the creature was a hybrid animal with a human mind and vocal powers. A few visitors to the house had heard the strange sounds and to support this, Mr Irving submitted a voluntary statement signed by three young men that had heard and witnessed strange happenings at the house, and 15 people altogether to vouch to this unique experience. Mr Irving was quite aware that his weird tale placed him and his family in a peculiar position, but he appealed to us to make it plain in our story that he was not a fool or a crank, and that the story we had heard was told in genuine sincerity. He naively pointed out as emphasised previously that even if he were presumed to be a little "strange" surely the whole family could not be similarly effected.

 

After a very interesting evening listening to this amazing narrative, our representative wended his way down the hill, along with his companion. The sightseers had all cleared as they slid and scrambled their way down the icy pathway, and they were rather disgusted to find that some of the disappointed sightseers had again been busy and their path was obstructed by heavy tree trunks that had been deliberately thrown across the roadway, fences torn down and flung in the pathway, and a big roller stone used by farmers had been rolled over the hedge into the centre of the path.

 

Mrs Irving, during the visit of our representative, confessed to being a little upset by the annoyance of rowdy sightseers, but denied that there was anything supernatural in the happenings. The daughter is an intelligent young girl who spoke convincingly of the events which she had heard and witnessed.

 

Dorlish Cashen is a stone-built house, but has been lined with boarding, and the result is to provide a cavity behind the boards, in which it would be possible for a creature of the type described to secrete itself. The peculiarity, apart from the uncanny character of the creature, is that it has not interfered with food in the house, although it is not uncommon for certain animals of this type to consume only foods as they themselves shall recover.

 

Many newspapers to-day are publishing illustrations under the title of "Believe it or Not!" We present Mr Irving's story after the fullest investigation of his credentials, a plain matter of fact relation of happenings which, on the surface, seem credible, but yet to anyone with an intimate knowledge of the narrator, suggest the simple truth. It is said that there is nothing new in heaven or on earth, this maybe, is the preliminary to the discovery of a most weird and uncanny species of nature such as has never previously been heard or seen.

 

Our story may leave the reader unconvinced; it maybe unconvincing, but it is backed by the assurance of as sane a man as one could ever meet, and at that we must leave it.

[simon]

The Dorlish Cashen Buggane

 

Peel City Guardian And Chronicle - Saturday, February 20, 1932.

 

From a lonely homestead, situated high up on Dalby Mountain, there has during the last few weeks drifted into Peel weird and uncanny tales of bizarre happenings and strange noises emanating from within and about the farm-house on Dorlish Cashen.

 

The Manx mind is, by nature, superstitious and ever ready to believe in fanciful happenings of an untoward nature, such as those which are abounding in the west of the island at the present time. In a district steeped in tales of folklore; of fairies and fairy music; of bugganes and phynnodderee; the happenings are regarded with a strange awe, of unnatural belief; that an evil spirit has taken possession. The inhabitants view the events with a chariness befitting their forefathers of the last decade.

 

The buggane or spook (to use the modern term) has chosen an ideal spot to sport his musings. No lonelier place could be found from Cronk-ny-Arrey-Laa (the home of the fairy band) to Greeba Mountain (another trysting place for the little people of a fanciful world). Dorlish Cashen is a small double - fronted homestead high on Dalby Mountain, isolated from the outside world by a half hour's fast climb up a narrow lane, abounding in loose stones, mud and slippery rock surfaces. The farm is occupied by Mr and Mrs J. Irving and their daughter of school age.

 

The buggane, as we shall call this creature which has set aflame the fumes of fancy, has, I understand, been seen by none other except the occupiers of the croft. Therefore, to describe him, it needs a vivid and fantastical mind. He has been seen in many forms and resembles many animals, principally of the feline species. With a body of a weasel or a cat (this is extremely doubtful as he has been heard to say he has no stomach), and a pig's head, with great glowing eyes, hissing breath and a high pitched voice, this is the apparition which has thrilled the neighbourhood. Small wonder then that he has installed into the minds of the superstitious, a sense of fear and awe. He speaks of domestic and rural events and has no time for the "skeets" who come to hear him. Very few have heard his voice, but the many who have sat and listened have at the sound of the voice (which is said to come from out of the walls and the ceilings) felt their hair rising and their spines shivering - sure signs of the presence of the unnatural.

 

That the young Manxman is no longer superstitious, and has now no room for the myths that one time enraptured the countryside, has been prominently shown during the past week. The young bold spirits of Peel have their own ideas of the buggane, though they will admit the thought of seeing once again the old time scarecrow has incited a desire to probe the mystery and to see for themselves whether the buggane really exists. Thus all roads after the moon has risen have led to Dorlish Cashen. Being of a similar disposition a "Peel City Guardian" representative undertook to make the ascent to the buggane's lair on Tuesday evening. To those who have not yet enjoyed the experience of "spook-hunting" I recommend them to start forthwith. From the moment we left Glen Maye and commenced our tortuous climb up the narrow steep lane, which was just freezing on the surface, we found we had stepped straight into the midst of fairy land or should it be spookdom? More spooks abounded round that country lane that night than ever walked abroad before. Strange white creatures popped up from behind high hedges which fairly made your heart thump; strange eerie sounds rent the air; many a ghost must have sighed for an opportunity such as this; but we pressed on unflinchingly - "duty called and none dare disobey". Shortly before eight o'clock the objective was reached, but already the spook-hunters had gathered and as we approached his domain we were warned in hushed excited tones to keep quiet. The buggane was expected to show his hand. We waited, tensed ears strained; minds alert; but the buggane failed to ease our curiosity. Had our courage out-generalled him? Or would he show his contempt for mere man? We waited in vain and we waited long; the night was cold and chilly; but still we held on. A faint sound, unusual to City ears, broke out. We turned and faced the out-buildings. Something was stiring. We stood stock still, and then a nanny goat appeared. What fools we had been not to think of that before. Time dragged on and no buggane appeared, but the investigators increased and about forty roamed the farm buildings in their quixotic attempt to lay the spook.

 

Shortly before ten, excitement reached fever-beat; the curtains rustled in a small upstairs window; every eye was glued on the spot; flashlights snapped into action; silence reigned. The window rattled; with expectant eyes and bated breath, we stood; the noise ceased, the window moved again, and a small hand came into view. Now were we to solve the mystery? A face appeared for one brief instant, we saw enough and our hopes were dashed. A well-known local young lady had braved the consequences of the fictitious happenings which would befall those who interfered where they had no call and was keeping house.

 

Ten o'clock came, eleven and midnight and still no sign of the buggane. The occupier had informed us earlier that a visit from the buggane was almost impossible that night. There were far too many people about. But he added, "Come some stormy night when there is no moon and you may hear him". I don't think we'll bother. We may meet one and our false pride of unbelief in such things would get a rude awakening. Strange things may happen on Dalby Mountain when the moon is hid. I will be no party to them. Better safe than sorry. Cha vel y Vanninagh dy bragh creeney dys y laa lurg y vargee. "The Manxman is never wise till the day after the market" (or after the Fair).

 

While listening for the buggane, Mr Irving stated that he had appeared just before six o'clock, just after Mr C. Cashin (the well known authority on the Manx language) had departed, and screamed and said "They are all mad". That was the buggane's last visit that night. Probably it has been his last. There were enough bugganes on Dorlish Cashen that night to make any self-respecting buggane turn green with envy.

 

"ARGUS"

[simon]

Truth About The Dalby Spook

 

Isle of Man Weekly Times - Saturday, February 20, 1932.

 

"Almost unbelievable", Mrs Irving called it, after telling her story with such evident sincerity. Mrs Irving lives at the small farmstead, Doolish Cashin, in a lonely and remote part of Dalby, the home of the latest spook, spectre, buggane (call it what you wish) which has got into the news.

 

This is the story of Jack, the mysterious little fellow with the bushy tail and the human voice, who is the cause of all the trouble.

 

A special correspondent writes -

 

Doolish Cashin is situated in the appropriate surroundings for ghostly manifestations. The little farmstead is perched at the top of a steep hill, approached by a grass - grown track showing the bare rock of the mountainside in places. The nearest house to it is some distance away at the foot of the hill. On all sides are the barren hills which surround Glen Rushen and Glen Maye, which at the most provide grazing for a few sheep. Not far away is Glen Maye, which legend endows with a buggane of its own, and on these lonely hill tops who can say whether the fairies do not still hold high revel, dancing and feasting in the moonlight; or whether, when the wind shrieks among the cairns and the rain beats down, and the night is pitch dark and the storm gathers, the bad spirits do not roam abroad, and the witches and all the other bugganes and evil shapes, and perhaps the Mauthe Dhoo which they used to have at Peel as well?

 

However, on such a night, we Pressmen would not be such fools as to be anywhere in the neighbourhood, so we will leave it at that.

 

I was rather disappointed with this twentieth century Manx spook. It is not true to type; it is in a class by itself and the question is, can we, in justice, call it a spook? There is nothing eerie about it, it appears once you have got used to it.

 

"A little yellow animal, perhaps a cross between a rat and a weasel or stoat, with a long bushy tail and a flat face like a pig". That was the description Mrs Irving gave when she was interviewed on Thursday afternoon. Not an attractive looking customer to meet for the first time; its face seems to be against it; but once you have got used to that, "Jack", as Mrs Irving calls it, has points. It is good company.

 

Mrs Irving does not attach anything supernatural to the appearance or unusual capacities of the animal. It first made itself known to Mr and Mrs Irving and their young daughter, who live at Doolish Cashin, in September, when it was heard behind the walls, which are panelled or timbered throughout the house. It could be heard scampering about, and then they heard a barking sound "as if it was trying to find its voice". Soon afterwards, to their astonishment, it broke forth into speech, and on several occasions Mrs Irving said she had seen it, though not recently. It came out of holes near the ground, and once ran along the ledge of the panelling in their bedroom.

 

The last time it was heard was on Tuesday when it discussed the local Highway Board men who are working in the district. It referred to the men by name and to other goings - on in the district. Its conversation is so eminently of mundane matters that the Dalby spook seems to have little of the supernatural beyond its uncanny speaking powers and remarkable intelligence. It does not discuss the spirit world or give fearful warnings from the beyond; it keeps worldly by reporting what the Highway Board men say and do, and you can hardly have anything less of the spirit world than that

 

Sometimes it sings, and at other times it breaks out into a smattering of French, German, Spanish and Manx, with some of which language Mr Irving is familiar. It calls Mrs Irving by her Christian name, and does the same to Mr Irving and their little daughter. It has been known to follow them out of doors, when they could hear it behind hedges.

 

They are not frightened of it now that they have got used to it. Asked why they did not attempt to capture it, Mrs Irving said she wished she could. In the meantime she said they had written to the "Daily Mail" about it but had not yet had a reply.

 

I didn't hear it. Mrs Irving said it would not talk when strangers are present, so there seems to be no hope. But it will talk about strangers after they have gone, and has been unkind enough to say "They're mad" after some visitors had left. Its voice is shrill and high - pitched, but it varies, and can be deep as well, and it is heard in the daytime as well as the night. It is not fed by Mrs Irving and does not touch and food which is left lying about. It has been heard in the outbuildings, which are apart from the house, but mostly it is heard in the kitchen, and sometimes carries out a conversation with Mrs Irving when she is alone in the house. Sometimes, too, it follows them about from room to room, but it can be nasty when it likes. First of all, before it got used to her, it started spitting at the little girl, and one morning it kept them awake till three o'clock with its talk , and threatened to do so till five!

 

All this Mrs Irving told me very earnestly and with a conviction which could not be denied. I did not see Mr Irving but no doubt his story is substantially the same.

 

This is all we have had from our special correspondent. He offers no solution of the mystery, and, as he says, he did not even hear it, much less see it. If he had had brought it home in his pocket, now ….

[simon]

Dalby Spook Becomes Famous

 

Isle of Man Weekly Times - Saturday, February 27, 1932.

 

The Dalby spook is extending his reputation; Dalby cannot expect to keep him all to themselves once he has got into the news. He leapt into the headlines during the past few days, and now he obviously means to stay there.

 

Manx newspapers have not been alone in letting the public know of this new phenomenon; the English papers have devoted a good deal of space and ingenuity to the problem. The "News Chronicle" advanced the theory that "Muriel" of their children's feature had reached the Isle of Man, and certainly the sketch of "Muriel" (which we reproduce by the courtesy the "News Chronicle") fits in very well with the description of the strange creature which is said to be causing all the bother.

 

Allied Newspapers of Manchester decided to find out just how much there was in it and sent a special reporter over to Dalby to see for himself. The result was that the spook was featured in their principal publications on Monday, the "Daily Dispatch" coming out with a front page story which ran to a column and a half.

[simon]

Our Famous Spook

 

Letter To The Editor - Isle of Man Weekly Times - Saturday, February 27, 1932.

 

To the Editor,

 

After reading your description of the animal called the "Dalby Spook", it seems to me very like a mongoose. These animals emit strange noises but I never heard of one being taught to speak.

 

About 20 years ago, the then owner of Farey Cushlin, a mountain farm in the Dalby district, liberated a number of these animals to kill the rats, and it is quite possible that the "Spook" is a descendant of these.

 

Of course, this will not explain the speaking of four or more languages, but when one remembers the carefully vouched for stories of Russian soldiers passing through England during the war, and also the glowing accounts of people who claimed to be eye - witnesses of the "Angel of Mons", a mere detail like this should not be allowed to spoil and otherwise good story.

 

W.A. TEARE

 

Colby, Isle of Man, 22nd February, 1932 

[simon]

The Dalby Spook

 

The Isle Of Man Examiner - Friday, March 11, 1932.

 

The so - called Dalby "spook" sensation continues to create considerable interest in the Isle of Man, and quite a lot of people are making the long, mountain trek to reach Mr Irving's cottage, only to gaze upon the walls and reflect upon the possible explanation of this mysterious phenomena.

 

The Editor of the "Examiner" visited the cottage recently and had a chat with Mrs Irving and her daughter Voirrey. He was not fortunate enough to hear the quaint animal to which are attributed supernatural powers, but both the lady and her daughter are quite clear in their versions regarding the peculiar gifts of this inexplicable creature.

 

We were assured that the creature had been about continuously, and heard even that very day. Mrs Irving ridiculed the suggestions that Voirrey was responsible for the noises, which she had heard even when the girl was at school, and from our observations of the daughter we would be disinclined to say that this was the explanation. Indeed Mrs Irving is worried by the phenomena, and declared that if she could get near it she would hit it or kill it. Quite a lot of conversations in which the animal has taken part were retailed, and Mrs Irving is emphatic in her views regarding the existence of the creature.

 

The whole thing sounds amazing and incredulous, but we have to accept the versions of accredited people regarding the incidents. A Peel butcher who was at the cottage last week heard the animal at intervals for a full hour.

 

A number of people on research work have been over to investigate the phenomena, and one gentleman - a retired Naval officer - stayed at the Glen Maye Hotel over the week - end, and went thoroughly into the matter, but did not reach any solution. His theory seems to have been of a spiritualistic character. 

[Christopher]

Hello everyone, first post here. I visited the IoM recently (stayed in Dalby, wonderful scenery and coastline, friendly people, lots of walks and wildlife).

 

Walked up to the Doarlish Cashen site (former home of Gef) and one thing struck me as odd. Why had the farmhouse been demolished, when, elsewhere on the Island, I saw many other ruined buildings having been left abandoned? Doarlish Cashen's relatively remote location (off-road, up a steep path) would suggest that the task of demolition would have been difficult and expensive - getting the heavy machinery up there, and then removing the rubble...I wondered whether the house had been an attraction for sightseers, and the owner of the land wanted to put a stop to their visits? (just a guess).

 

Also, does anyone know when it was demolished? The OS map I used was dated as revised in 1997, and the house still featured on this map (lucky for me it did, otherwise I would never have found it).

 

Thanks for any assistance!

[- Paul -]

Hi Christopher

My maps are the 2006 1:25,000 Outdoor Leisure Map

There's nothing marked on there as far as I can see.

 

One for Francis methinks - she's a superb source of local history and posts on here

[Frances]

One for Francis methinks - she's a superb source of local history and posts on here

little to add - the story is covered in "the Haunting of Cashen's Gap" by Harry Price + R S Lambert pub 1936 which includes a photo of farmhouse + a good written decription of interior - my own thoughts are it was an invention by a bored young girl + later built upon by credulous ghost seekers.

The house is shown on the 7th ed public rights of way map (the last to be based on the 6"/mile base map - orange covers) - later maps used the new digital map as the base and are actually much worse for finding details - they look clearer but too much detail is absent - however I'm currently in UK (I commute between here + Peel) and find I don't have a copy of the later digital base maps with me to check - I think I've walked near it in past but many years ago - on the older map shown as 2 buildings grid ref SC233783 to west of the track

[macmannin]

Have a word on Alec Karran,he lives in Glen Maye,farmed that area for most his life.

[Digga]

I shamefully admit to have never been but have reason to believe it was somewhere near to where i highlighted on this pic,

 

I'm led to believe that the ruin was removed when the new barn was erected basically to try and reduce 'traffic' across this part of the island (source= Man in Pub said so)

 

 

do your self a favour and if you get the option Dont watch the Richard Felix video it's awful.......

[homarus]

Sadly I was driving home last night past the "Ballacallin" pub and a mongoose ran out right in front of me, unfortunatly I just caught him ,so I stopped and walked back and there he was lying by the side of the road ,poor little fucker!

I leant down to pick him up and blow me he started speaking!

 

" Don't blame yourself mate "he said! I should have looked where I was going and now it looks like my life is over due to my own stupidity.

By now his breathing was very shallow and uneven so I was suprised when he motioned me in closer with his little paw and whispered in my ear softly, "I have something very important to tell you"!

 

What says I?

 

Whatever you do says he! --

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dont vote for Woodford !

[Christopher]

Thanks for all your replies.

 

macmannin - I see there is an interview with Alec Karran on the manxheritage website, will give it a listen.

 

Digga - yes, your photo is more or less exactly where I went. Some bits of slate on the ground, apart from that - nothing. I expected there to be signs of there having been other visitors - happily, no litter though.

 

I spoke to a few people about the 'Spook', and most didn't know what I was going on about! Do people feel that it has been more or less forgotten by the younger generation, or is there still an awareness of it on the Island? Browsing these forums, it seemed as though quite a few people still know about Gef.

 

I was pleased to see that the Ballacallin Hotel still had its pub sign with Gef on it.

 

It must have been very lonely up at Doarlish Cashen during the 1930s - no neighbours, no TV...apparently there was no electricity and no radio either...

[Back to the Future]

http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/105128

[La_Dolce_Vita]

I spoke to a few people about the 'Spook', and most didn't know what I was going on about! Do people feel that it has been more or less forgotten by the younger generation, or is there still an awareness of it on the Island? Browsing these forums, it seemed as though quite a few people still know about Gef.

I think a good deal of people are aware of it, people of all ages. But it was just a fanciful story that the paranormal groups in the UK picked up upon which led it to hit the papers. Not of significance for it to be very well known.