9 Eerie Washington Cabins And Hotels With Haunted Reputations

I came to Washington for misty coastlines and mountain panoramas, yet I stayed for the stories that rattled my suitcase at 3 a.m. If your idea of a souvenir involves goosebumps and a squeaky floorboard chorus, you are in the right state.

I have tracked the whispers, poked at the legends, and slept with one eye open across some of the Evergreen State’s most haunted stays. Pack curiosity, leave skepticism at the door, and follow me into rooms where the past never checked out.

1. Manresa Castle Hotel

Stepping into Manresa Castle in Port Townsend feels like wandering onto a moody film set where the extras are all from another century. I checked in with confidence and an EMF app, then promptly heard a soft knock that came from neither hallway nor dream. Rooms 306 and 302 have reputations that precede them, with tales of a heartbroken nun and a distraught soldier whose stories cling like coastal fog.

Curiosity nudged me up the grand staircase, where portraits seemed to assess my life choices. The creak of timber sounded almost conversational, as if the building preferred whispers to welcome mats. Late at night, the air turned cool enough to raise an eyebrow and a few neck hairs. A distant clink, a skitter of steps, and the wallpaper’s patterns began to look suspiciously like eyes.

I found charm in the turreted silhouette and solace in the staff’s practiced calm. They have heard it all, including reports of radios switching on and windows misbehaving. My advice is to bring a journal and a level head. If you do meet a spectral resident, remember that courtesy crosses centuries better than Wi Fi.

2. Ann Starrett Mansion Bed and Breakfast

Victorian curves and a watchtower crown make the Ann Starrett Mansion impossible to ignore, yet it is the staircase that steals attention. Locals swear a red haired woman drifts there with an elegance that suggests she still owns the place. Built in the 1880s for love and legacy, the mansion holds a hush that feels private, like overhearing family secrets through velvet drapes.

I tiptoed over polished floors that reflected lamplight like liquid amber. A chill grazed my sleeve near the landing, followed by the faintest sensation of perfume that had no bottle in sight. Portraits appeared to follow me with polite interest, as if rating my manners and shoes. I offered compliments to the woodwork just in case.

Nights brought a mild symphony of knocks and faint movement in guest rooms nobody rented. The staff’s stories aligned with my notes, which always helps a skeptic sleep better. If you visit, keep your phone charged and your expectations flexible. Should the Starretts say hello, a gracious nod may be the best review you ever leave.

3. The Palace Hotel

Former brothels tend to keep secrets, and The Palace Hotel in Port Townsend has enough to redecorate every room. Ornate fixtures meet maritime grit, creating a backdrop where the past still pays rent. Guests report a blue lady who leaves a trace of perfume and a feeling like you are late to an appointment you never booked.

My evening wander brought me to doorways that seemed to breathe with the building. Floors murmured underfoot, and the hall mirrors offered reflections a half second behind. In one room, curtains swayed as if a window were open, though the latch sat firmly in place. I thanked the breeze for the dramatic effect and stayed anyway.

The front desk knows the lore and shares it with a diplomat’s poise. You might hear laughter from a vacant room or the click of heels fading down the corridor. Bring a healthy sense of humor and a willingness to be surprised. If a hint of floral scent drifts by, consider it a cordial greeting from management past.

4. Water Street Hotel

Perched over Port Townsend’s bustling past, the Water Street Hotel balances salt air with spirited company. Records mention real tragedies, and the lore adds gentlemen in top hats who exit through walls like it is nothing. The building’s bones creak with maritime rhythm, a tide of sounds that clocks cannot explain.

I tested the theory by sitting in silence until silence gave up. Footfalls tapped from the far end of the hall, paused, and resumed as if deciding on me. A pressure change brushed my ears, and the lamp flickered once in a way that felt performative. I would have applauded if my hands were not busy holding steady.

Daylight helps, revealing handsome brickwork and views that soften nerves. Night returns the theater, and you are the audience of one with a front row seat. If a top hat tips your way, practice your hatless reply. A nod of respect suits both centuries and keeps the evening cordial.

5. Hotel Sorrento

Seattle’s Hotel Sorrento mixes Old World glamour with a resident literary celebrity. Alice B. Toklas reportedly favors the fourth floor, an address that makes elevators feel like plot devices. The place glows at dusk, and the lobby hums with the kind of conversation that floats three feet above the carpet.

I wandered the fourth floor listening for footsteps that did not match my stride. Lights giggled in quick bursts, and one door handle trembled as if it had a secret handshake. The sensation of being watched was less creepy and more curious, like someone grading my syntax. I tried to think in complete sentences out of respect.

The staff carries the legend with confidence, and ghost hunters come prepared with gadgets that beep like tiny robots. You can follow their lead or go analog with a notebook and keen ears. If Alice stops by, offer a thoughtful quote and a gentle smile. Good manners, after all, are timeless in any haunting.

6. Mayflower Park Hotel

History loves to multitask at Seattle’s Mayflower Park Hotel, which has lived many lives and remembers all of them. Whispers of former days drift through hallways where a pool hall once echoed and a boxing crowd once roared. Some nights the building sighs like it just finished a sermon, leaving guests with goosebumps and questions.

I caught a chorus of faint knocks that traveled like a relay race from door to door. A distant clatter answered from behind a wall I could not map, followed by the hush of something deciding otherwise. Elevators chimed without passengers, and a mirror on the mezzanine felt two degrees colder than the lobby air. I took notes, because evidence loves detail.

The charm is undeniable, with classic furnishings and staff who navigate lore as smoothly as luggage. Strange noises join the soundtrack without asking permission. If you stay, request a quiet corner with good Wi Fi and a curious mind. The past may visit, but it usually keeps conversations brief and memorable.

7. Hotel Ändra

Formerly the Claremont, Hotel Ändra still throws a party the calendar forgot to end. Guests complain of jazz riffs, lively chatter, and phantom glassware on the ninth floor, where the night apparently never learned about bedtime. The modern Scandinavian style meets a mischievous past, creating a contrast that keeps curiosity humming.

I rode the elevator up with the feeling I was underdressed for a century old soirée. The hallway held a pulse, a rhythmic thrum like distant music inside the walls. A door clicked somewhere unseen, followed by the tink of something imaginary hitting an imaginary floor. My footsteps tried to keep time and failed adorably.

Staff shrug with practiced smiles, because this is just Tuesday for them. Bring earplugs if you crave sleep or lean in and treat it like a soundtrack. Either way, the ninth floor has stories to spare. If the encore starts at midnight, consider it a compliment to your timing.

8. Tokeland Hotel

On the Pacific coast, the Tokeland Hotel wears its title as Washington’s oldest hotel like a weathered crown. Age brings stories, and this place has a library’s worth, including a restless spirit said to fling dishes when the mood strikes. The wind off the water adds percussion, rattling windows with dramatic flair.

I walked the halls with respect for creaks that likely predate my ancestors. In the dining room, a stack of plates sat innocently still, which somehow felt ominous. A whisper skimmed the rafters like a gull that forgot to flap, and a chair shifted just enough to claim the spotlight. I offered applause for the subtle choreography.

Owners embrace the lore with warmth, so you will find hospitality alongside hauntings.

Bring layered clothing and a flexible bedtime, because the coast is a sound effects artist. If something launches a spoon, consider it a signature. Not every hotel can autograph your evening quite so dramatically.

9. Lighthouse Oceanfront Resort

Long Beach delivers wide sands and wider rumors at the Lighthouse Oceanfront Resort. Some rooms keep journals for guests to record eerie events, turning bedtime into a collaborative mystery. Reports include furniture that reconsiders its placement and whispers that edit your dreams.

I flipped through the notes and felt like I had joined a very polite paranormal book club. The entries were earnest, occasionally funny, and united by a respect for the weird. My stay added a soft scraping sound from the dresser that moved exactly one inch. I measured, because good stories enjoy rulers.

Beach walks by day cleanse the palate so nighttime visits from the unknown feel more theatrical than frightening. Staff handle questions with friendly professionalism and a hint of local pride. If your lamp slides a smidge, jot it down for the next adventurer. The coastline loves continuity almost as much as legend.