I remember the Cubans chasing them around with hooked sticks. They’d (the crabs)get into the laundry room at the dorms ( HomesteadAFB) and you’d hear their claws clacking against the washers and dryers.
If you stood along the side of US 1 (desolate at night in the 80’s) you could hear them moving, clack clack clack. A bit creepy for sure!
We called them ghost crabs.