By Mallori Murphey

Hunters in flooded timber at twilight. Photo by Austin Ross

Austin Ross

Throughout history, countless legends whisper of haunted waterways—rivers, swamps, and seas where spirits seem to linger. Some say water is a conduit, amplifying both natural and paranormal energies, making these places feel alive in unsettling ways. For waterfowl hunters like us, wetlands aren't just places we visit—they occupy our thoughts day and night. But be warned: not all marshes are as empty as they seem. The following destinations may offer top-notch waterfowling, but beware of what lurks in the shadows.

Columbia River

The Columbia River has been the lifeblood of the Pacific Northwest for thousands of years, but to many, its currents carry darkness and doom. Flowing from its source in British Columbia near the crest of the Rocky Mountains, the mighty river twists and writhes through 1,200 miles of Washington and Oregon, as if it knows precisely where it's going. 

At the river’s mouth lies the “Graveyard of the Pacific,” a haunted stretch of coastline where more than 2,000 ships have vanished beneath the waves since 1792, taking countless lives with them. Some say the waters still whisper their names. 

Farther inland, where the Oregon Trail skirts the Columbia’s banks, travelers once told of strange glowing orbs floating just above the ground and claimed that their cameras captured faces that didn't belong to the living. Today, the spirits of those pioneers are said to wander the river’s edge, trapped in a restless search for the promise of the West, never realizing that life left them behind long ago. 

But ghosts aren't the only things that haunt the Columbia. The forests along its shores echo with tales of hulking, shadowy figures. Some even say the origin story of Bigfoot was first told there. Beneath the river’s surface, a 40-foot serpent known as Colossal Claude is said to wait in the depths.

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Pacific Flyway haunt here: Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife and Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife  

Florida Everglades

The Everglades are steeped in eerie legends—tales of strange disappearances, ghost ships, and creatures lurking in the murky waters. Since the 1700s, there have been reports of the Gaterman, who stands between 5 and 7 feet tall and boasts claws, webbed feet, and scaly skin. Gaterman prowls the swamps, hunting anything it can sink its jagged teeth into.

Known as the cornerstone of the Bermuda Triangle, the dense swamps of the Everglades have swallowed countless travelers without a trace. Some say the red-eyed boy who haunts the waters pulls people under to keep them as companions in his cursed fate. 

Then there’s the Ghost Ship of the Everglades, a pirate vessel lost to time. Cursed while chasing a merchant ship into the maze of channels, the crew was doomed to sail for eternity, never reaching the coast. Now the phantom ship drifts endlessly through the mist, still searching for a way out—and more souls to claim along the way.

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Atlantic Flyway haunt here: Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission 

Texas Gulf Coast

Everything is bigger in Texas, terrifying tales included. The Lone Star State boasts stories spanning from phantom fiddlers to soldiers locked in battles long after death.

One tale from the 1820s tells of two fishermen camping on a small island at the mouth of the San Bernard River. One of the men, a fiddler, became obsessed with mastering a tune, playing it relentlessly—day and night, the same screeching notes over and over. His friend, driven mad by the endless, penetrating sound, buried a hatchet in the fiddler’s skull and tossed him and his fiddle into the river. To this day, people can hear the fiddler’s music drifting down the San Bernard.

During the Civil War, a prison camp was established along the coast near Port Arthur. People have reported hearing the screams of men, cannon fire, and muskets cracking through the air. And when night falls and the fog rolls in, some swear they've seen the large sails of ghostly ships gliding silently toward shore.

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Central Flyway haunt here: Texas Parks and Wildlife Department

Hudson River Valley

New York’s most famous river valley is steeped in spooky American folklore and has held captive the imagination of people for centuries. The river’s most famous legend traces back to its namesake, the explorer Henry Hudson. During one of his voyages, his crew mutinied, abandoning him to drift on an ice floe in Hudson Bay. Ever since, he has been said to roam the waters, seeking justice for his cruel fate.

Another legend has it that the Imps of Donderberg haunt all sailors who dare to enter the treacherous Hudson Highlands. If the skipper of a ship doesn’t tip his hat, the imp will call for a storm upriver, with deadly consequences. One version of the tale claims that the lead imp was once John Colman, a sailor in Hudson’s crew, killed by an arrow and cursed to become a ghost. Now, Colman commands the imps, driving storms to sink ships that fail to show reverence.

In the heart of these storms, ghostly hands rise from the waters of the Hudson, their faces flickering just beyond sight. Native Americans spoke of them as river spirits, while the Dutch believed they were drowned sailors. Even today, some say the imps still lurk, waiting in the mist.

And if you’re looking for another reason to give the Hudson Valley a go, see if you can experience the same happenings that inspired Washington Irving to write one of America’s favorite short stories, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Atlantic Flyway haunt here: New York State Department of Environmental Conservation

Mississippi River – Illinois and Missouri

The Mississippi River flows like a serpent through the heart of the nation. As it drains over 40 percent of the United States, it carries most of the country’s secrets, hidden histories, and dark tales with it. 

One of the most infamous stretches of the river lies from Tower Rock to Cape Girardeau. Legends of ghostly activity date back to the Native Americans who once lived here. At Grand Tower’s northern edge, the deadly rapids near Devil’s Backbone—a jagged, one-and-a-half-mile ridge—have taken countless souls, defying even the most seasoned riverboat captains.

And the tales continue. Some talked of a drowned wedding party that rose from the depths warning of the Civil War. Others spoke of Esmerelda, the daughter of a wealthy family, who lived atop Devil's Bake Oven in the 1800s. When a boiler explosion took her lover’s life, grief drove her to leap from the cliffs. Though her home is long gone, locals swear she lingers as a pale mist drifting along the ridge. Some say they hear her wails on stormy nights.

Farther south, the Mississippi’s waters played host to two catastrophic riverboat fires, the Stonewall in 1869 and the Mascotte in 1886, that claimed more than 300 lives. Barge workers today regularly claim to hear screams and cries for help on that stretch of river. But when they go to offer assistance, no one is there.

Also, several years ago, when visiting the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, a psychic asked if anyone else could see the hundreds of people floating in the river, about chest deep, looking toward Cape Girardeau.

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Mississippi Flyway haunt here: Missouri Department of Conservation and Illinois Department of Natural Resources

Lahontan Valley 

From its Wild West era of outlaws and saloons to its hundreds of boom-and-bust mining towns, ancient legends, and extraterrestrial lore, Nevada is one of the most haunted states in the United States. At one time, this area was submerged under the ancient Lake Lahontan. 

Stories from the region date back to the time when water covered and carved the land. It’s been said that there was a race of red-headed giants with cannibalistic tendencies that roamed the lake. They lived inside Lovelock Cave.

Even the skies above Nevada are restless. Stories of strange lights, visitors from other worlds, and UFOs are as common there as the chill that creeps down your spine when the night deepens. Some say the land attracts them.

Ghost towns, at one time bustling with life, now stand as hollow shells, silent reminders of what was. These once-thriving mining communities are scarred by dark histories—disease outbreaks, explosions, toxic fumes, brutal working conditions, food shortages, and countless other tragedies that haunt the land. When you wander through these ruins, the land feels heavy, as though it remembers everything. Shadowy figures flicker just out of sight, as if daring you to turn your head. Distant screams ride the wind, rising from nowhere—and everywhere. 

Find public hunting access, rules, and regulations of this Pacific Flyway haunt here: Nevada Department of Wildlife