Your plane glides quietly through the night sky. The lights are low. The chatter of

conversations has fallen into a hypnotic silence. When you turn your attention to the window,

you can't believe your eyes. There, staring back at you is the ghostly face of what appears to be an airline captain.

Silent, cold, gray.

Your breath catches in your throat as you want to scream, but you cannot.

And just like that, he's gone. This sounds like something straight

out of a Hollywood blockbuster, but it happened. And on more than just one occasion and in front

of multiple eyewitnesses. Imagine you're working a fishing schooner as a patch of rough weather blows

in, causing chaos all around you.

Boats begin to collide with other boats, screams of overboard sailors break through the sounds of the squalls and waves,

bashing your hole without mercy.

And when you're certain that you will be joining the fate of the other crews, the weather relents.

The sea's calm, and for a moment you feel safe. That is, until a ghostly crew begins to board your ship,

then you see you're not the only one to witness this insane moment play out before your very eyes.

Is this just another Hollywood horror story? No. It's a very real story from Mariners' past.

Maybe your ground crew is part of an ongoing air exercise when suddenly and without warning,

your crew, your fellow military friends apparently vanish off the face of the earth.

These are the voyages of the damned.

Joining me to discuss these supernatural tales of wonder, Steve Shippey, Jeff Belanger, Ray Auger, and a special guest.

So batten down the hatches, put on your seatbelts, and for the love of God,

keep your arms and legs inside the podcast at all times.

This is about to get weird.

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