Sir Francis Chichester in a 1965 interview: “It was a perfect shape, it was…more like a pearl shape…with a tail. And I watched this thing and suddenly it disappeared. And I was… I thought, “Do I see things?” I had a very trying flight. I’ve been waiting… I’ve had engine trouble, and I’ve waited for hours expecting to get into the sea, you know. »
But suddenly this thing reappeared and is heading towards me. Well, I’m not going to let her pass this time! I kept my gaze fixed on her and she [was approaching] quite quickly, and suddenly, gradually rather, she started to thin and disappeared in front of me…
It continued, but instead of increasing in size, it decreased as it approached,” he said. Did he see something otherworldly, or was it some kind of peculiar mirage on the horizon? Alas, we will probably never know how far it was from the earth, or how high or how far the object was from the horizon. »
From his book The Lonely Sea and the Sky :
“After the storm, we flew in a calm atmosphere under a weak and soothing sun. I pulled out the sextant and got two shots. It took me thirty minutes to calculate them, because the engine kept backfiring, and my attention was wandering every time…
Suddenly, ahead and thirty degrees to the left, there were flashes of light in several places, like the glare of a heliograph. I saw a dull gray-white airship coming towards me. It seemed impossible, but I could have sworn it was an airship, swooping down on me like an oblong pearl. Except for a cloud or two, there was nothing else in the sky.
I looked around, occasionally seeing a flash or glow, and turning to look at the airship, I saw that it had disappeared. I closed my eyes, unable to believe it, and turned the seaplane around, thinking that the dirigible must be hidden by a blind spot. Dazzling flashes continued to occur in four or five different places, but I could not make out any planes.
Then, coming out of some clouds to my right, I saw another airship, or the same one, moving forward. I watched him intently, determined not to look away for a split second: I would see what would happen to this one, if I were to pursue him. It gradually got closer, until maybe 1.5 km away (one mile), when suddenly it disappeared. Then he reappeared, near where he had disappeared: I looked at him with fierce intent. He moved closer, and I could see the dull glow of light on his nose and back. It approached, but instead of increasing in size, it decreased as it approached. Once close, he suddenly became his own ghost – one second I could see right through him, and the next he was gone.
I turned to the lightning bolts, but they too were gone. All of this happened many years before anyone mentioned flying saucers. Whatever I saw seemed to look a lot like what people have since claimed to be flying saucers. »