The Legend of Old Trash — The Phantom Hound of Formby Dunes who comes out on Halloween night…

The wind moves strangely across the Formby dunes at night. It whispers through the marram grass like a warning, rolling over the dark ridges before tumbling down toward the empty beach. Locals say that if you walk there under a full moon — especially on All Hallows’ Eve — and the air suddenly turns still, you should turn back at once. Because something else walks the sands. Something older than the village itself. They call it Old Trash.

For generations, stories have told of a phantom black dog that prowls the shoreline. Enormous, silent, its eyes glowing like dying embers. The few who claim to have seen it say those eyes are a harbinger of death or misfortune. None who met its gaze ever forgot it.

Former Ghost Club president Peter Underwood once wrote of this creature:

“The ghastly resident of Formby beach is an immense black hound with luminous eyes, the sight of which is meant to bring death or misfortune to the beholder.”

He also told of a night in the early 1960s when reporters from a local newspaper ventured to the Formby sandhills on All Hallows’ Eve, determined to find the beast. They watched in the moonlight as a huge dark shape moved in silhouette atop a dune, pacing back and forth like a restless guard dog. When they climbed the slope, breathless and afraid, the summit was empty. The sand was smooth and untouched — no footprints, no sign of life.

One journalist ended his report with words that still echo today: “We are sincerely convinced that what we saw and heard was not of this world.”

Years later, Underwood received a first-hand account from Mr. Steve Howe, a man whose memory of that night has never faded…

“Thirty-odd years ago, myself and motley chums, would often spend weekends camping in a secluded wooded area in the ‘no-man’s land’ between the nature reserve and the golf course, approached via Freshfield Railway Station and The Fisherman’s Path……Outside the shelter of the trees was an extensive sandy/scrubby area with a steep climb at the end, which one had to clamber up in order to make one’s way to the beach a quarter mile or so away.

On one of these trips, a Summer night, lit by brilliant moonlight, I decided to do just that, alone. The aim being to have a ‘bit of a dip’ in the sea. I had started the climb up the slope when I heard what sounded for all the world like a steam train, of all things, approaching rapidly from the far side of the dune. I froze in my tracks, the sound getting louder. Almost immediately, an enormous black dog appeared on the summit ten feet or so above me, moving at a hell of a lick, and I mean enormous, it may have been the moon playing tricks but, I swear it had red eyes. Without a pause, it bounded past me down the slope – without paying me the least attention, I’m glad to say. Upon turning round to see where the monster had got to, there was nothing to be seen and even the brute’s train-like panting could no longer be heard.

I returned to camp with all the speed I could manage…..and recounted my experience to the others, most of whom, naturally, were greatly amused by the outlandish yarn. One, however, a lad from Formby, then recounted the local legend of the black dog and said lots of local folk had claimed to have seen it in the past. That shut them up.”

By Mr Steve Howe

When asked to describe the beast, Steve said it was a sleek, short-coated animal, roughly the size of a very large St. Bernard — around 90cm high — but far more muscular, built like a Rottweiler. He saw it only for seconds, but it was enough. The red eyes, the speed, the sense that it wasn’t running on earth but through it. His friend had told him it was well known in Formby, and that others had seen it too — though none spoke of attacks, only sightings, and the dread that followed.

Old Trash has appeared again and again along Sefton’s sands. Some say it guards the ruins of a coastal church swallowed by the sea long ago. Others whisper it roams the dunes on Halloween night, searching for anyone foolish enough to cross its path.

The most chilling sighting came on 31st October 1962, when two journalists and a photographer witnessed the Dog with Glowing Eyes bounding over the dunes. They said it left no prints — not even in the softest sand — and vanished into the mist. No one ever confirmed whether their camera caught its image.

Even today, the Sefton Coast Landscape Partnership Scheme teaches local schoolchildren the tale of Old Trash, ensuring the legend is never lost. Some say it’s just folklore — others have heard the howl themselves.

So if you find yourself walking the Formby dunes tonight, when the moon is high and the wind stills, don’t linger. If you hear panting that sounds like an approaching steam train, run. And whatever you do —

don’t look back…

Because if you do, and you see two luminous eyes burning in the dark, it’s already too late.

Centuries before the first tale of Old Trash was whispered, the sands of Formby were already telling their own story. Over 4,000 years ago, people lived and farmed here. As the tide retreats, it exposes ancient footprints pressed into the mud — human, red deer, giant cattle known as Aurochs, and yes, the tracks of large dogs or wolves.

In 1999, a fragment of bone was found eroding from the sediment — a complete set of red deer antlers, still fixed to part of the skull. Eight points each, nearly 80cm long, belonging to a stag that died in his prime during the autumn rut. The discovery confirmed what many already believed: Formby remembers everything that has ever walked its shore.

And maybe, just maybe, Old Trash still walks it too.

Do you believe the legend of Old Trash? Have you ever seen it?

Send your story to info@formbybubble.com — if you dare.