Coyle and Richardson, Why They Hung in a Spanking Breeze

Good evening. This is Crime Classics. I am Thomas Highland with another true story of crime. Listen. That's a frigate cutting through the Caribbean. It's just before dawn and cloudless is the sky. The year is 1736 when the stars were younger than they are now and shown more brightly and this particular sky of Tropic brilliance was a navigator's dream.

The land was close, and a trade-win bellied the mainsole and set the good frigate scutting. And daylight was just beyond the horizon. There, at the wheel, the helmsman John Richardson, and holding his bottle for him was his small and drunken friend, Richard Coyle.

The frigate sank in six minutes and drew sharks. The helmsman and his friend got away, only to commit other nuisances on the seven seas. So tonight, my report to you on Coyle and Richardson. Why they hung in a spanking breeze.

Crime classics. A series of true crime stories from the records and newspapers of every land from every time. Your host each week, Mr. Thomas Highland, connoisseur of crime, student of violence, and teller of murders.

Now once again, Mr. Thomas Highland. They were making rum in Havana in 1736. The place went good with rum. It was hot.

There were a lot of mosquitoes, and in every nook and cranny there were dark-eyed beauties. It was necessary to fortify oneself. Beside which, Havana was under almost continual attack by pirates and buccaneers, some of whom stayed over because of the rum.

So the town was peopled mostly beside the dark-eyed beauties, that is, by trench and cutthroats, flirting sailors, runaway slaves, uncaught murderers, and, generally speaking, black-hearted names, all in all, a populace dedicated to Saturday night. One of the fellows who just had Saturday night, and was lying in an alley, was a deserting seaman named John Richardson.