Welcome to Ghost Catcher Isles, chronicling the weird, wonderful and eerie of the isles of Great Britain and the Republic of Ireland. Come with me on my adventures into the strange and paranormal
(Time Between Times. Image Credit: O.Staton and Spotify)
I’m thrilled to share that I recently had the incredible opportunity to join the captivating storyteller Owen Staton on his podcast, The Time Between Times. It was my first podcast interview, and we had a wonderful conversation about my writing, my obsession with the paranormal, and, of course, my all-time favourite Norfolk ghost story; the eerie tale of the Phantom Drummer Boy of Hickling Broad. Owen asked me why I chose this particular tale to be retold by the firepit. It’s more than just a ghost story to me; listen to the episode to find out why this eerie legend resonates so deeply.
Owen Staton is a master storyteller, so I couldn’t have asked for a better host to guide me through this fascinating chat. We covered everything from the origins of my interest in all things spooky and Fortean to my adventures around the UK and the Republic of Ireland in search of haunted places. I even had the chance to discuss my blog, Ghost Catcher Isles, which has been steadily growing in 2024, and my exciting plans for its future. I even shared a personal story about an unforgettable encounter that still gives me chills. You won’t want to miss this!
It was such a fun and thought-provoking conversation, and if you’re into ghost stories, the paranormal, or just love a good tale, this episode is one you won’t want to miss.
You can catch the full interview on Spotify or wherever you prefer to get your podcasts. Come listen, and let me know what you think—maybe we’ll share our own ghostly experiences together next time!
My step-uncle Gerald lived in the village of Hickling, nestled in the heart of the Norfolk Broadlands. He was one of the few remaining reed cutters, a job with a long, proud tradition in the area but sadly dying out as fewer people needed thatch for their homes.
It was back in the mid-1990s that my step-uncle spent his day on Hickling Broad, the local body of water, slicing through reeds as the sun dipped below the horizon. One evening, the air grew cold and he witnessed a spectral figure gliding across the Broad.
(Hicking Broad, Norfolk. Image Source: John Fielding)
Now, being Hickling born and bred and from a family whose ancestry here stretched back as far as the Norse settlers, Gerald realised in horror that he was witnessing a local legend recreating its ethereal journey across the Broad.
Local folklore has it that during the winter of 1815, shortly before the battle of Waterloo, a local drummer boy from Potter Heigham returned home on leave. While back he fell passionately in love with a local girl from a wealthy and influential family. The girl’s father, knowing the drummer boy was poor, refused to allow the relationship and any thought of marriage.
Undeterred by this, the star-crossed lovers continued to meet in secret every night in a little hut at Swim Coots on the edge of Hickling Broad. When the winter turned icy and the Broad froze over, the drummer boy skated over the ice, wearing his bright yellow scarlet trimmed coat, and would beat his kettle drum to signal his approach.
One frozen February evening the girl waited at Swim Coots as usual and listened out for the drum beat of her paramour. But this time the drum beat suddenly stopped and there was an eerie silence. The ice had cracked and the drummer boy had plunged through and drowned in the freezing waters of the Broad.
It is said that the girl rushed to the edge of the frozen Broad to find her lover and was relieved to see the shivering boy skating towards her. As she held out her hands to help him ashore, she felt his icy touch and the drummer boy disappeared.
The unfortunate drummer boy was not found for several days when a lifeless body was pulled from the Broad clad in a yellow coat with scarlet trim.
(Hickling Broad with Swim Coots marked. Image Source: Google Maps 2023)
Since then, it is said that on some cold winter nights in February, the eerie sound of a rhythmic drum tattoo and the swishing of skates can be heard, as the ghostly drummer boy tries to keep his date with his sweetheart.
After observing in shock the gliding figure, Gerald quickly downed his tools and fled back to the village where he decided to visit the Greyhound Inn for a stiff, nerve-settling drink. As Gerald recounted the haunting sight of the ghostly drummer boy to the sceptical pub patrons, the line between reality and spirits blurred. Was it the ethereal presence of the supernatural he witnessed, or a distorted vision fuelled by the spirits from his glass?
The locals in the pub dismissed his tale, attributing it to his well-known predilection for whisky. However, Gerald couldn’t shake the chilling memory, leaving him wondering if the haunting beats of the drummer boy would forever echo in his consciousness or fade away like the dissipating spirits in his empty whisky glass.
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