UFOs Generals, Pilots, and Government Officials Go on the Record (13 page)

Captain Bowyer says that there were no negative effects as a result of his speaking out about the incident when he was approached by the BBC. His airline offered every support he needed, and the local air traffic control released recorded information to journalists and researchers who asked about the case. “I did not feel that I was in any danger of being ridiculed, because all I did was report what actually happened, as was my duty,” he stated
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Especially after learning about the O’Hare Airport case, which occurred only months before his sighting, Bowyer noted the differences between the British and U.S. reporting systems, and also between the official attitudes within the two countries. The fact that crews and ground personnel were pressured by their company not to discuss the incident, and that the FAA did not investigate, surprised him. “I would have been shocked if I was told that the CAA would not be investigating, or if the CAA told me that what I had seen was something entirely different,” he commented in response to the FAA’s claim that witnesses were actually
observing weather. “But it seems that pilots in America are used to this kind of thing, as far as I can tell.”

I first met Captain Bowyer at our Washington, D.C., press conference six months after his sighting, when I also met General De Brouwer. He attended for a few days with the full cooperation of his airline, Aurigny Air Services, which flies between the Channel Islands and both France and the UK. I found Bowyer to be a remarkably frank, down-to-earth, utterly incorruptible British everyman; in other words, a naturally honest man, blessed also with a great sense of humor. His account that follows, though at times alarming, gives expression to these personal qualities, and stands in interesting contrast to the more formal and restrained writing styles of our military contributors
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T
here has always been a strong connection to flying in my family, and even though I initially trained as a production and research engineer, I always had a hankering to get airborne. So in 1985 I began to fly, and four years later I qualified as a commercial pilot. Since then, I have worked for many airlines in Britain, Europe, and the Middle East.

I spent ten years, beginning in 1999, with Aurigny Air Services, based in the Channel Islands, which lie between southern Great Britain and northern France. Aurigny flies between the three largest islands—Alderney, Jersey, and Guernsey—and western France and England. I have completed some 5,000 hours and 8,000 landings for Aurigny in Britten-Norman Trislander aircraft. Although very basic and rather noisy, these eighteen-seat, three-engined aeroplanes are strong and ideal for short-sector work into short runways such as those at Alderney, the most northerly and smallest of the islands serviced by the airline. The flight deck area of the Trislander is not separated from passengers—we all sit in essentially one open cabin. While piloting the aircraft, I can literally turn around and talk to the passenger behind me.

On April 23, 2007, my passengers and I witnessed multiple, as yet unidentified objects over these islands while crossing the English Channel. They were very, very large. The objects were picked up on radar in two locations, and one was witnessed by another pilot from a totally different vantage point.

At 4,000 feet on that afternoon, the visibility was very good—at least 100 miles all around—with a low-level haze layer underneath us up to 2,000 feet. We were on route from Southampton, England, to Alderney, which takes about forty minutes, cruising at 150 mph.

At first I saw one object that seemed close because of its apparent size, and I considered it to be only five or six miles distant. However, as time passed with the object remaining in view, even though I had flown twenty miles closer to it, it still appeared to be a good distance away.

When I first saw it, I thought, based on past experience, that this brilliant yellow light was a reflection of the sun from a commercial greenhouse in Guernsey, famous for its production of tomatoes. But in this case the relative motion of the aircraft in combination with the critical angle between the ground and the sun meant that such a reflection could not occur. Furthermore, there was no direct sunlight from above as there was a layer of cloud at 10,000 feet covering the whole area. With this in mind, I reached for my binoculars while flying on autopilot, and viewing it magnified ten times, found that this light-emitting object had a definite shape: that of a thin cigar, or a CD viewed on edge with a slight incline. It was sharply defined, and pointed on both ends. The aspect ratio was approximately 15:1 and I could clearly see a dark band two-thirds of the way along from left to right while viewing it through the binoculars.

As I drew nearer to the object, a second identical shape appeared beyond the first. Both objects were of a flattened disk shape with the same dark area to the right side. They were brilliant yellow with light emanating from them. I passed the information to Jersey air traffic control (ATC) and they initially said they had no contact. I pressed the point over the next few miles and the controller at Jersey, Paul Kelly, then said he had primary contacts south of Alderney. So here we were on a bright afternoon in May with two objects ahead getting closer and larger with no explanation as to what they were! I found myself astounded, but curious.

At this point, the passengers began to notice the unusual things and to ask about them. I decided not to make any announcement over the intercom so as not to alarm anyone, but it was obvious that some were getting concerned. By now the two identical objects were easily visible without binoculars, the second one behind the closer one, with exactly the same characteristics albeit farther away.

ATC then informed me that there were two reflections from primary radar, both to the southwest of Alderney. This was beyond my destination, for which I was glad as the objects were becoming uncomfortably close. Their brilliance is difficult to describe, but I was able to look at this fantastic light without discomfort. They both seemed to be stationary, but the radar traces later proved otherwise: they were actually moving away from each other at about 6 knots, one to the north, from the northern tip of Guernsey towards Casquettes lighthouse, the other moving south along the northwest coast of Guernsey.

Due to the haze layer it is unlikely that the objects were visible from the ground; however, after the event BBC radio received one uncorroborated report that one had been seen by a tourist staying at a local hotel in Sark, close to the Casquettes lighthouse.

Approaching the point to begin descent, twenty miles NNE of Alderney, I maintained an altitude of 4,000 feet to remain in good view of the objects. If they started to move off, I wanted to be able to take action to avoid them if at all possible.

Due to my close proximity, the dark area on the right of the nearest one now took on a different appearance at the boundary between the brilliant yellow and the dark vertical band. There appeared to be a pulsating boundary layer between the two differences in color, some sort of interface with sparkling blues, greens, and other hues strobing up and down about once every second or so. This was fascinating, but I was now well beyond our descent point and to be frank I was not too displeased to be landing.

My feelings at this time were mixed. The safety of the passengers is paramount and that always comes first, so to land was the priority. However, I was really intrigued with whatever was ahead of me, even though I was healthily trepidatious as well. If the aircraft had been empty, I would have gone a lot closer, perhaps overflown the nearest object to gather further information and satisfy my curiosity. However, I would never knowingly put passengers at risk. My last sight of the objects was whilst passing through 2,000 feet in the descent through the haze layer.

Throughout the whole encounter, which lasted fifteen minutes, there had been no interference with any of the aircraft systems or instruments, and radio communications were likewise unaffected.

Upon landing I asked if any of the passengers had seen anything unusual, without wishing to lead them, and told them if they had and should want to report it, to leave their name and number at the check-in desk. Passengers Kate and John Russell, sitting three rows behind me, went public with their sightings and their story is well documented. At least four other passengers saw the objects and the gentleman sitting behind me even borrowed the binoculars for a closer look.

I walked to our operations department to make an official report, as required by law, informing the powers that be that unidentified aircraft had been seen within controlled airspace where they certainly shouldn’t have been. I drew a brief sketch and this was sent to Jersey ATC and onward to both the Ministry of Defence and the Civil Aviation Authority in London. With that done, it was time to grab a quick cup of tea and return to Southampton with another load of passengers.

I was somewhat concerned at the thought of departing to the west toward where I had last seen the closest object, and although nothing was visible ahead whilst I lined up on the runway, I was aware that I had lost contact with the pair only due to the haze layer. Thankfully, after passing above 2,000 feet, there was nothing to be seen.

It was then, on this trip back to Southampton, that I had time to take stock of how big the two objects actually were. While in Alderney, I had received confirmation of the radar traces from the controller who had reviewed the data. I was able to determine that I was approximately fifty-five miles away from the first object, not the ten miles or less that I had originally thought. Flying around Europe at night, one gets to know the size of towns and cities relative to specific ranges, putting a scale on places of known size, along with a known oblique angle from a distant viewpoint. I was able to apply this same reference to the unidentified objects, presuming that they were flattened discs; they of course appeared long and thin from my viewpoint from the side. Seeing a reasonably large town from fifty-five miles would have been comparable to the size of this object. It was at this point that its massive size became clear, and I estimated it to be up to a mile long.

The section of my report, filed immediately after the incident, which included my drawing of one object. It was sent to the CAA and the MoD before I realized how large the objects actually were
. R. Bowyer

On my subsequent return to Alderney from Southampton, I telephoned Jersey ATC and spoke to Paul Kelly, the duty controller who was in communication with me during the sighting. He informed me that a pilot from a second aircraft had described a sighting as “matching the description” of what I had seen. This was a great relief to me, as it confirmed that I alone was not bonkers!

Indeed, Captain Patrick Patterson, the pilot of a Blue Islands Jetstream aircraft inbound to Jersey from the Isle of Man, had witnessed the same thing as me, from twenty miles south above the tiny island of Sark. Some months later, I met with Captain Patterson and we exchanged views as to what we had seen. Although his sighting was only for one minute or so, his description was proof to me that we had seen the same thing, even though he saw only a single object, the second being in his six-o’clock position and therefore out of view.

The decluttered radar trace recorded at the time clearly shows two slow-moving objects appearing simultaneously and disappearing off the trace simultaneously. The traces begin and end at exactly the same time, not a minute apart or even ten seconds. The northernmost of the two objects ends up in its final moments transiting overhead of the Casquettes lighthouse. The radar also shows the Blue Island aircraft top left to bottom right and my aircraft top right to centre.

A lengthy report by a team of independent researchers (with which I partly disagree on some content) overall offers no evidence to explain the sighting, which confirms to me that two tangible objects did appear over the Channel Islands that day. This study goes into extraordinary detail and runs over 175 pages, with references to the weather, temperature inversions, military activity, surface shipping movements, and many other avenues of investigation.
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I do, however, have a significant point at which I have to disagree with the team, which is their dismissal of the radar traces as being returns probably from a cargo boat.

Why would the two traces start and stop in midocean, at exactly the same moment, when they should be seen leaving or returning to port? And the northern object ends up in its final moments transiting over the Casquettes lighthouse, the scene of many shipwrecks including the SS
Stella
in the late nineteenth century with great loss of life. With tides running to 8 knots in this area, this surely would be a most inappropriate, indeed foolhardy, place to navigate a cargo vessel!

Regardless of the controversy, and even though many sightings by pilots do not have multiple witnesses or radar tracking, I would still urge all aircrew to report whatever they see as soon as possible, and to stand up and be counted.