The Forgotten Spirits: A Haunting Experience at The Green Turtle Inn
When I first decided to visit The Green Turtle Inn in Kona, Hawaii, I was drawn in by its lush surroundings and rustic charm. Little did I know that I would not just be experiencing the tranquil beauty of the island, but also a riveting taste of its haunted history. As a lover of all things paranormal, I had heard many tales about the spirits that lingered within the walls of this beloved eatery and inn, and I was eager to uncover the truth behind the legends.
The Green Turtle Inn, established in the 1930s, has an undeniable aura that suggests it holds many secrets. From the moment I stepped inside, I felt a curious chill run down my spine. The inn's rustic wooden beams and vintage decor transported me back to a time long ago, but there was also something else—a palpable energy that hummed just beneath the surface. As I took my seat at a wooden table overlooking the shimmering Pacific, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Over my delicious meal of fresh poke and homemade coconut cake, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on a conversation at the next table. A couple was discussing their own ghostly experiences at the inn, claiming to have seen apparitions in the evening light. It piqued my curiosity even further, and I couldn’t resist the urge to probe. With gentle inquiries, I learned more about the sordid tales whispered among locals and visitors alike.
One of the most famous ghosts associated with The Green Turtle Inn is that of a former owner named Maile. She was said to be deeply connected to the land and the spirits that roam it. Locals believe her spirit remained behind after her passing—a guardian of sorts, watching over the inn. Many patrons have reported seeing her apparition gliding through the halls, dressed in a flowing white gown. I felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation when I heard this, hoping that my visit would overlap with some supernatural activity.
The stories didn’t stop there. Several employees shared chilling accounts of strange happenings in the kitchen—items moving on their own and fleeting shadows darting in their peripheral vision. One night, while closing up, a server claimed to have heard soft whispers calling her name. Hesitant but intrigued, I decided that I would explore the inn after hours, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of its famed spirits.
After the last guests had left and the servers had cleared the tables, the ambiance shifted. The warm diner lights cast long shadows throughout the inn, and as I made my way through the empty restaurant, the solitude felt both comforting and eerie. I sat in the corner booth, where the couple had previously shared their ghostly tales, and I closed my eyes, allowing the hushed sounds of the night to envelop me. I could almost hear the echoes of laughter and music that filled the inn's walls many years ago.
But as I sat quietly, I felt a colder breeze sweep through the room. At that moment, the air grew charged, and that’s when I finally saw it—out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow flit past the doorway leading to the bar area. My heartbeat quickened as I turned my head slowly, half-expecting to see a fellow adventurer, but the room remained still. I sat frozen, unsure whether to stay or seek solace in the safety of the open air.
With courage pushing me forward, I tiptoed toward the bar. That’s when I caught a whiff of something sweet—almost like plumeria. With each breath, I could sense it growing stronger, pulling me deeper into the inn’s embrace. According to local lore, the spirits often carry the fragrances of the flowers they loved in life, and Plumeria was said to have been Maile’s favorite. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was indeed near me, curious about my intrusion.
I began to chatter softly as I moved through the bar, hoping to ease any tension in the air. “Maile, if you’re here, I’d love to hear your story,” I said quietly, feeling a mix of hope and disbelief. For a brief moment, I could have sworn I felt a warm gust of air brush past me, almost as if a gentle sigh appreciated my presence. While I may not have communicated directly with the spirit, I felt an understanding—the inn wasn’t just a historical site; it was a sanctuary for lost tales and lingering souls.
After spending the night captivated by the echoes of the past, I emerged from the inn with a renewed respect for its rich history and the spirits that inhabited it. The Green Turtle Inn had indeed left its mark on my heart. I may not have encountered the infamous Maile, but I felt a connection to the lost stories woven into its walls.
As I left the inn, I could hear the sound of the ocean lapping gently against the shore, a soft reminder that the spirits of the land and sea would forever be linked. Whether you’re a paranormal enthusiast or a curious traveler, The Green Turtle Inn is a place where history breathes, and forgotten spirits remain alive through the tales we tell.
If you ever find yourself in Kona, be sure to visit The Green Turtle Inn. Come for the food, stay for the stories—but keep a vigilant eye; you never know when you might encounter one of the inn’s enchanting spirits.
