The Phone That Shouldn’t Ring

When asked, multiple Dalvay staff members recounted a strange phenomenon that has haunted the hotel for years: the front desk phone ringing from rooms on the second floor. This would be a mundane event, except for one chilling fact—none of the rooms have telephones. Even new staff who have only been working there for a few weeks have received the ominous phone calls.

Calls would show up on the display as originating from rooms like 202, 205, and, chillingly, 209. Some even claimed the requests would be from rooms where there were no guests registered.

Ghostly Touches and Unseen Guests

According to staff, guests have also reported unsettling experiences in their rooms—feeling touched while alone, hearing faint footsteps across the wooden floors at night, or waking up to the unmistakable sensation of someone at the edge of their bed. Several guests mentioned the feeling of being watched or a feeling a pressure on them while in bed. Other active areas were reported, particularly in the library and second-floor hallway. Some even said they had heard children in the hallways from behind closed doors.

A Tragic Legacy

The energy that seems to linger in Dalvay may be tied to the building’s past. While Alexander Macdonald himself passed away before seeing financial ruin, it is the tragedy of Laura Macdonald, one of his descendants, and her young daughter, that seems to echo through time.

According to local legend and some historical records, Laura died suddenly at a young age on the property, her cause of death never fully understood and still under review.

The Library Whispers

The PEIGHS team also spent time in the library, a grand room filled with aged books, some antique furniture and grand luxurious fireplace. While we did also have some EMF activity spikes during questions, we could not rule out other interference as Suzanne did have her phone on.

Room 208: A Night to Remember

The PEIGHS team set up base in Room 208, one of the oldest parts of the building, maintained with its original woodwork and a location often mentioned by guests. The room had a stillness to it, like the air itself held a secret. Shortly after some of our equipment was placed, Lily noticed that the EMF (electromagnetic field) meter was spiking erratically— we began to ask a series of questions in the hopes to get a response. .

“We heard a lot about this beautiful place and so we thought we'd come and visit.” The meter pulsed to red, as if in conversation. “Do you really like that teddy bear?” Another sharp spike. These were not random surges. They corresponded with direct, emotionally charged inquiries. What made it more compelling was the location: the second floor— the are said to be the hotbed of activity.

While we were out of the room for approximately an hour, we had left out laptop cameras on and some catballs laying in various areas. One catball that was lying on a bed did begin to blink without anyone around.

Upon review of the video and audio, there was a sound of a door slamming in the room when there was no one present. On another audio there was a strange sound caught, again, there was no one in the room at the time.

Conclusion

The PEIGHS investigation at Dalvay by the Sea left the team with more questions than answers—but also a sense of profound respect for the energy that lingers there. While no aggressive entities were encountered, there was an unmistakable residual presence—a feeling of memories etched into the walls, of lives once lived and never fully let go.

Dalvay remains a jewel of the Island’s north shore—a place of history, beauty, and perhaps, spirits who still walk its halls.