Sambro Island's Haunted History: A Light House Ghost, Ghost Ships, and Stairway to Hell

Where maritime history meets maritime mystery on Nova Scotia's ghostly isle

Jan 24, 2025

Image attributions: Dennis G. Jarvis, CC BY-SA 2.0

It’s 1932 and you’ve finally arrived for your post as lighthouse keeper on a lonely island on the East Coast of Canada. Your voyage has been a strange one. You were recruited rather hastily and asked to start immediately, yet you couldn’t find anyone willing to ferry you across to the island once you got to Halifax. There was something foreboding in the local fishermen’s eyes when you mentioned your new post while pleading for a ride.

Finally, one of them took pity on you but had barely stopped the boat long enough for you to get both your feet on the dock before they reversed and sped away. But now as you sit alone with your back against your chamber door, listening to the terrifying banging in the hall, gagging on the most foul stench you’ve ever smelled, you realize you may have made a huge mistake…

If you head southwest of Halifax, Nova Scotia, and travel by boat for about six kilometres, you’ll find yourself at the entrance of Halifax Harbour on little Sambro Island.

There, you’ll spot Canada’s oldest operating lighthouse, built back in 1758. This lighthouse, often called “the Canadian Statue of Liberty,” has welcomed sailors, merchants, and explorers for over two and a half centuries. But if you ask locals, it’s more than a safe haven for ships—it’s also the center of some of Nova Scotia’s eeriest legends. That mix of real history and ghostly lore is exactly why Sambro Island captures our imagination to this day.

Before we dive into the ghost stories, let’s set the stage.

Sambro Island is half a kilometre wide and sits right in the path of sailors trying to enter Halifax Harbour. Construction of the Sambro Island Lighthouse was funded by taxes on rum and incoming vessels during the Seven Years’ War, making it one of the first major projects the newly formed Nova Scotia House of Assembly took on. When it finally shone its light in 1759, ships could see its glow and navigate the rocky coastline more safely.

Over the centuries, the lighthouse has seen its share of storms, wars, and shipwrecks.

By 1884, for instance, the SS Daniel Steinmann wrecked nearby, with only 9 of 130 passengers surviving. During World War II, German U-boats stalked these waters, and one even sank the Canadian warship HMCS Clayoquot within sight of the lighthouse. Despite the tragedies, the lighthouse endured, guiding vessels and offering a beacon of hope. It also gathered more than its fair share of strange tales—some involving knocks in the night and lights that flickered on their own.

Today, the lighthouse still operates, though it’s powered by solar panels and is no longer staffed.

The Nova Scotia Lighthouse Preservation Society helps maintain it, and many people fight hard to keep its history alive. Yet preserving Sambro Island’s heritage is not just about bricks and beams—it’s also about keeping its folklore front and center.

The most famous story swirling around Sambro Island focuses on a restless spirit named Alexander Alexander, better known as “Double Alex.”

He was a Scottish soldier stationed here in the late 18th or early 19th century. One story says he was tasked with going into Halifax to pick up the army’s payroll. Unfortunately, Alexander had a taste for drink. By the time he returned, he’d spent the entire pot of money on a two-week binge, and he came back empty-handed. Rather than face a severe punishment from his commanding officer, he hanged himself on the island.

Since then, folks claim Alexander Alexander never fully left.

For over a century, lighthouse keepers reported hearing heavy footsteps pacing the halls on quiet nights. Keys would vanish, only to reappear in odd places. Lights would flicker for no reason, and in more recent years, toilets would flush when nobody was there. Some even say a distinct foul odour appeared right before these oddities began, as if the rotting corpse of Double Alex were making his presence known.

Years later, when a keeper’s house was moved from the island to the mainland, he reported a ghostly hitchhiker joined him.

After hearing mysterious bumps in the night in his home on the mainland, he was convinced that Double Alex had moved in with him. He’d heard those sounds before and smelled the foul smells back in the lighthouse. One night, a rage came over the keeper and he yelled out, commanding that the spirit go back to Sambro. According to lore, Double Alex got the hint and boarded the next boat returning to the island and things returned to normal on the mainland.

That’s only one spirit said to wander the grounds. Another local legend tells of a phantom ship that appears near Sambro Island during sudden storms. In these accounts, the ship might drift in the fog with no lights and then vanish just as quickly. Some believe it’s the ghost of a doomed vessel that sank against the rocky shores. Others say it’s a warning to sailors: pay attention to your navigational aids, or you might share the same fate.

If the ghosts in the lighthouse and in the harbour weren’t spooky enough, if you head closer to the shoreline on Sambro Island, you’ll notice a mysterious geological formation.

It looks like a dark stripe of rock cutting through the granite, forming what looks like rough steps from the water to the land. Locals call it the Devil’s Staircase, and if you listen to the stories, you might think twice before climbing down.

A few people say they’ve spotted odd lights flickering along these jagged steps, like someone carrying a lantern at midnight. Others describe the sounds of dragging or scraping on the rock when no one else was around. Some visitors even claim to have found fresh footprints in places no one had walked that day.

The most chilling part, however, is what some islanders say about the place:

“The devil will come out of the water and haul you down.”

It’s meant as a warning—perhaps to keep kids or curious wanderers from losing their footing on the slippery rocks.

Still, the story can send a shiver down your spine, especially if you’re alone there at dusk. The fact that the Staircase sits just a short stroll from the lighthouse makes it feel like these two legends—Double Alex and the Devil’s Staircase—are bound together in a single haunted setting.

Now, you might ask: Why do these legends hold on so strongly?

Part of it is the island’s isolation. Once the lighthouse was automated in 1988, there were fewer people living on Sambro Island, so the old buildings and corridors seemed even spookier. Another part is how tough the sea can be off Nova Scotia’s coast—storms roll in fast, and the waters can be lethal. Ghost stories and cautionary tales flourish in places like that, where nature’s power is always on display.

Even today, volunteers occasionally clear paths through tall grass so visitors can reach the lighthouse and wander around.

Some come seeking a glimpse of Double Alex or a mysterious light on the Devil’s Staircase. Others come purely for the history and to see one of Canada’s oldest working maritime structures. Either way, you’ll hear whispers of the paranormal if you spend any time with the people who’ve served as keepers or who’ve studied the island’s past.

It’s easy to get caught up in the spookiness, but there’s also a serious side to Sambro’s lore. Ships have struck the reefs here for centuries, from 18th-century sloops carrying precious cargo to the more modern tragedies of the SS Daniel Steinmann or the warship HMCS Clayoquot. These stories of lost lives often blend with local ghost tales, because every tragedy leaves a deep mark on the place where it happened.

You can’t help but wonder if some spirits just refused to leave.

Over time, improved technology—like better lenses and solar-powered beacons—helped reduce wrecks. Still, the raw Atlantic waters are unforgiving, and when you see the lonely lighthouse beam cutting through the fog, you might feel why these legends have stuck around. The line between safety and disaster can be razor-thin at sea, and maybe these tales are just one way to remind us of that.

If you ever get the chance to visit, you’ll need a boat (or, for some official visits, a helicopter).

You’ll find no roads or permanent residents these days, so pack what you need. As you approach, you’ll see the red-and-white stripes of the lighthouse loom over the rocky shore. Step onto the island, and the wind seems to carry distant echoes of voices long gone—lightkeepers checking lanterns, sailors seeking refuge, and maybe even a certain Scottish soldier still pacing the halls.

You can walk over and peer down the dark split in the rock they call the Devil’s Staircase.

Then you might climb to the lighthouse tower’s base—though going inside isn’t usually allowed without special permission. Stand there long enough, and you’ll probably hear a gull screeching overhead or the crash of waves in the distance. But if a door suddenly slams shut or you catch a whiff of some foul smell with no clear source, well, you might find yourself believing the stories more than you ever thought you would.

So that’s Sambro Island: part historic treasure, part ghostly legend. It stands as a reminder of how Canada’s coastline can be both a lifeline and a threat.

These stories—from Double Alex’s tragic end to the chilling call of the Devil’s Staircase—have stuck around because they capture the push and pull between land and sea, light and darkness, human effort and wild nature.

If you’re drawn to the dark and mysterious, you may want to start planning a visit.

But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

What Do You Think About the Legends of Double Alex, Ghost Ships and a Devil’s Staircase?

Have you heard of these maritime mysteries before?

Or have you visited Sambro Island and have a hair-raising tale to tell. What do legends and folklore about ghost ships and haunted lighthouses tell us about Canadian culture?

Take a sec. to type a comment and share your thoughts and stories. As always, I look forward to reading them all.

Thanks a bunch for reading this story. It’s a pleasure to share Canadian stories like this with you.

Have a rad rest of your day!