Out on the lonely marshes near Faversham, Kent, stands the Shipwrights Arms — an isolated old pub with a ghost story that has lingered for generations.

Local tradition tells of a sailor whose ship foundered in the Swale on a bitter winter night.

Somehow he survived the wreck and struggled across the freezing mudflats towards the lights of the pub. He reached the door and knocked... but nobody let him in.

By morning, he was dead on the doorstep.

And according to the old story, he never really left.

Landlords, landladies and customers have reportedly encountered a thickset, bearded sailor wearing a heavy reefer jacket and peaked cap. Sometimes his arrival is announced only by a sudden chill — and the unmistakable smell of rum, tar and tobacco.

This is the strange story of the ghost of the Shipwrights Arms near Faversham.