St Bathams weblog Travel Story

St Bathans: An Old Pub & A Ghost

Posted by Roy Sinclair in Queenstown and Southern Travel Stories
Tuesday, 21 March 2006

The Vulcan is a wonderful old pub found in a hollow, slightly off the beaten track, in Central Otago. It’s the most lively premises in St Bathans, a town with a population that fails to achieve double figures. Predictably, it’s a sleepy place.

Well, that’s until the ghost becomes the talking point.

Room 1 at The Vulcan is said to be haunted. Some years ago a television film crew claimed to have encountered the ghost. They were sufficiently frightened, they left St Bathans without finishing their filming – and never returned.

St Bathans is easy to find, about 50 km from Alexandra, or 30 km from the art déco town, Ranfurly. It is arguably New Zealand’s sole authentic gold town.

The one narrow street leads up a hill. The Vulcan, built around 1889, is accompanied by the town hall, a one-time stone school house, and post office. Close to The Vulcan is the Blue Lake, a legacy of heroic gold miners.

Beginning in 1863, gold seekers levelled the 120m Kildare Hill. They kept working until, in 1934, the hill had become a huge 68m chasm. Later, the chasm filled with water.

Leaping above the lake, white sculptured cliffs are reminiscent of the contours of a beautiful woman’s naked body. Minerals from the cliffs are responsible for the water’s turquoise hue.

With my Japanese partner, I arrive in St Bathans one chilling evening. Soft light swirled from the quaint old hotel. One lit window, with curtains yet to be drawn, was undoubtedly Room 1.

The bar was crowded with the town’s seven inhabitants – good-natured country folk. Juliet, daughter of proprietors Mike and Jude Kavanagh, poured the pints well, telling us she was a beauty therapist and was planning a new business in Alexandra or Cromwell.  

We were steered to a photograph of The Vulcan taken by Peter Spring during a brewery publicity shoot one February evening in 1995. A cloaked shadow was mysteriously recorded on the film, predictably outside Room 1.

"Sometimes people will especially ask to sleep in Room 1," Jude confided, "If they don’t ask, we don’t tell them.

"We have heard some interesting stories next morning."

Stories typically relate to a sudden chillness or a feeling of awaking and being held down. Sometimes mysterious shadows are seen at the end of the bed.

When new proprietors arrive, the ghost becomes especially active. A gin bottle had been emptied, pictures on the wall been re-arranged.

Jude told about her banking books mysteriously vanishing and eventually being found exactly where she had left them.

"I had searched that spot carefully at least three times," she said

We dined well, went for a walk outside and before retiring enjoyed a nightcap. Most drinkers had gone. Jack, The Vulcan’s friendly Labrador, lay flopped on the carpet with one eye almost half-opened.

Room 1 has all the hallmarks of a cosy hotel room offering rest for weary travellers. Indeed the bed was one of the softest I had  sunk into for years. It wrapped us warmly, safely away from the winter night and the creaks and groans of an old building.

And, thankfully, we slept peacefully… until.

Haruko needed to go to the toilet down the far end of the lit passage. I  followed. We were the only guests. The quietness was intense.

It was 4am.

About to return to the room I sensed the sound of a boiling kettle. Glancing back along the passage I saw steam from a furiously boiling kettle on the small guests’ table.

That’s strange. And why hasn’t the automatic switch turned off?  I turned it off myself, and went to bed.

A slightly scolding, sleepy, voice said, "Why do you want a cup of tea so early in the morning."

"I didn’t,"  I replied quietly. "You turned the kettle on for a joke."

"YOU DID!" she retorted.

At breakfast Jude fussed around the nicely presented table complete with an unread Otago Daily Times. Haruko was amused by Jack resting his doggy head on her feet. Hash browns, bacon, eggs, and sausages were arranged on large breakfast plates.

I unwisely commented about the mysterious nocturnal kettle.

"YOU DID IT," accused Haruko with a gob-full of sausage.

"NO…YOU…" I began to defend. Jude returned with fresh smelling coffee and toast. She was laughing.

"We were hearing so many arguments about that damn boiling kettle in the night we thought it must have a faulty switch.

"We took it to an electrician in Alexandra, but there was nothing wrong with it!"

Haruko and I looked at each other, accusing expressions breaking into smiles.

"It had to be the FRIENDLY ghost," we agreed with feelings of immense satisfaction.

Unlike a television crew of long ago, we found it difficult to leave St Bathans. We were almost sent on our way – on the end of Jude’s furious cleaning mop.

"This is not like other rural pubs that don’t open till 4 in the afternoon," she chided.

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