Murrells Inlet

A quiet fishing village south of Myrtle Beach with a long reputation for things that don't have easy explanations. On foggy nights, locals say the marsh and inlet waters give up more than fish.

Murrells Inlet has been a haunt of pirates and smugglers since the early 1700s, when its maze of tidal creeks, salt marshes, and secluded beaches made perfect hiding spots for anyone preying on merchant ships near Charleston's busy trade routes. Edward Teach -- Blackbeard -- supposedly anchored in the inlet's hidden coves. Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, may have used it to repair his sloop the Revenge. But the best pirate legend belongs to Drunken Jack. The story goes that Blackbeard's crew landed on a small island off the inlet with so much Caribbean rum it was slowing the ship. They stashed dozens of casks on the beach, and during the party that followed, a pirate named Jack crawled into the scrub oaks and passed out. He woke the next morning to find the ship had sailed without him. When the crew came back two years later for the rum, they found Jack's skeleton beside thirty-two empty casks. The island has been Drunken Jack Island ever since.

It's the ghost ship, though, that's the inlet's most persistent supernatural legend. On foggy nights, locals and visitors have reported the outline of a pirate ship with full sails gliding silently through the water. The vessel makes no sound and produces no wake. When someone gets too close or watches too long, it vanishes into the mist. Some think the ship is a remnant of a wrecked pirate vessel from the golden age of piracy, still running cargo through treacherous coastal waters. Others connect it to the spirits of sailors and pirates who died in and around the inlet over the centuries. Strange lights float above the water and voices carry on the wind along the shore, particularly near the marsh edges where the creeks narrow and the fog sits thickest.

The ghost stories extend beyond pirate lore. The legend of Alice Flagg, connected to nearby Hermitage plantation, is one of the most heartbreaking tales on the South Carolina coast. In 1849, sixteen-year-old Alice, sister of Dr. Allard Flagg, fell in love with a young lumberman her prominent family considered beneath her station. She secretly wore his ring on a ribbon under her dress. When Alice got sick with malaria at boarding school, she was brought home to the Hermitage, where her brother found the ring. As Alice lay dying, Dr. Flagg tore it from her neck and hurled it out onto the marsh. Alice died clutching her chest where the ring had been. Her ghost, still looking for it, has been seen at the Hermitage and at All Saints Cemetery on Pawleys Island, where she's buried beneath a marker that reads only "Alice."

Today Murrells Inlet leans into its haunted reputation. The MarshWalk, a half-mile boardwalk lined with restaurants along the waterfront, offers ghost cruises through the same waters where the phantom ship has been spotted. By the 1800s, rice plantations along the inlet were producing nearly forty-seven million pounds of rice annually, and the inlet later became famous for its cuisine when steamboat cooks settled in the area. The combination of pirate lore, plantation tragedy, and centuries of maritime mystery has made Murrells Inlet one of the most ghost-heavy stretches of the South Carolina coast.