Were they the ones that got away? Probably not. That is the conclusion of fresh research into the dramatic escape from Alcatraz prison in California by three bank robbers back in 1962. The study, carried out by Dutch scientists and being presented this week at a meeting of the American Geophysical Union, reached the conclusion that the daring trio most likely died a cold and watery death in San Francisco Bay.
But why, more than half a century on from that jailbreak by Clarence and John Anglin and Frank Morris, do we still care? What is it about escapes that so entrance us? Of course, films have a bit to do with it. This famous island break-out was transformed by Clint Eastwood into the 1979 film, Escape from Alcatraz. Like the film The Great Escape, it celebrated that mixture of derring-do and cunning that lies at the heart of any leap for freedom, whether from a prisoner of war camp or a penal dungeon. Countless other films, from McVicar to The Shawshank Redemption, are homages to the ones who tried to get away.
Britain’s most prolific prison escaper was Wally “Angel Face” Probyn, who skipped out of jails or Borstals a total of 16 times. He felt that planning an exit route was a great way of passing the time. “You don’t need a lot of patience to plan an escape, because you’ve got nothing else,” he told me when I interviewed him. “It’s a labour of love, something you really enjoy doing, so you take your time doing it. It’s like a hobby.”
Provided they are not grim murderers, we tend to have a sneaking admiration for anyone who decides to take this hobby to its logical conclusion. In a world where, increasingly, our every move and thought can be mapped or scrutinised, we doff our hats to the people who beat the system in this way. When the train robber Ronnie Biggs went over the wall at Wandsworth in 1965, the general reaction was one of “good luck” rather than “how dare he”, as people felt that the 30-year sentences handed out to the great train robbers were excessive. There was a similar response in 1987, when John Kendall and Sydney Draper fled from Gartree prison in a hijacked helicopter.
This feeling also manifested itself in 1991 in the trial of two peace activists, Pat Pottle and Michael Randle, who helped the Soviet spy, George Blake, escape from Wormwood Scrubs in 1966 because they felt that his 42-year sentence was excessive. The jury acquitted both men of aiding the escape despite a clear indication from the judge that they should convict.
Escaping from British jails seems to be a dying art. When, in 2012, John Massey, a sprightly 64-year-old, climbed over the wall of Pentonville prison in north London in a bid to visit his ailing mother, the event attracted much attention mainly due to its rarity and he was recaptured 48 hours later. In 2012/13, there were only two escapes from prison and prison escorts in England and Wales, compared with 52 in 1995. The shortage of escapes is not because prisoners are so enjoying their satellite TV and comfy cells, but because jails are just that much harder to escape from these days. If you want to get out, better to fake an injury or illness and hope to leg it from the hospital or one of the private escort vehicles en route.
The Alcatraz escapers had no such option. Having tunnelled their way out of the island prison, they took a raft – possibly partly made out of raincoats – and headed for land, never to be seen again. The Dutch scientists, using a computer model to analyse tidal data in San Francisco Bay, believe that if the trio had set off at midnight, they might just have made it to the shore. With their escape back in the news, if they did make it, now would be the time to get in touch. Mssrs Anglin, Anglin and Morris – are you out there somewhere? A film deal surely awaits.
