The archive
Sixty-two stories and counting. Start anywhere — nothing here is a cliffhanger, and every episode stands on its own.
Season four
The five most recent episodes. Runtimes are unedited-for-ads.
Ep. 14 — The Two-Minute Silence
16 Jul 2026 · 51 min
On 3 November 1978, Icelandic state radio went quiet for one hundred and eighteen seconds. The engineer on shift that night spent the rest of his career trying to account for it — and the answer, when it came, arrived from somewhere he had never thought to look.
Listen →Ep. 13 — Salt Season
02 Jul 2026 · 44 min
Vila do Corvo rebuilds its sea wall every August, knowing the winter storms will take it again by March. Four generations explain why stopping was never actually on the table, and what the wall is really holding back.
Listen →Ep. 12 — Nobody's Frequency
18 Jun 2026 · 58 min
For six years a pirate station broadcast four nights a week from a caravan on the moors, to an audience of precisely nobody. Then a letter arrived. What happened next says more about the listener than the broadcaster.
Listen →Ep. 11 — The Understudy
04 Jun 2026 · 39 min
She learned every line of a part she was never going to play, then went home and did it again the next night, for two years. Forty-one years later the theatre called. She picked up.
Listen →Ep. 10 — Copper Wire, Cold Room
21 May 2026 · 47 min
We spent the final shift with the last manual switchboard operator in the state, on the night they pulled the plug. She had connected the same eleven hundred households for thirty-four years, and she knew every voice.
Listen →Where to listen
Wherever you get podcasts
Nightjar is an open RSS feed. No exclusives, no platform deals, no episode ever locked behind an app.
Transcripts for everything
Every episode ships with a full human-checked transcript on the day it airs, not weeks later.
The Dispatch
The companion letter — sources, cut scenes and corrections — sent the morning after each episode.
Heard something you cannot stop thinking about?
We read every pitch. Most of our best episodes started as somebody else’s hunch.