The Province of British
Columbia, Canada, this year celebrates its
100th birthday. The Russian jet airliner,
the Tupolev 104, was invited to put in an
appearance at Vancouver Airport. The famous
Russian ship was due to touch down on
Canadian soil in the early evening of June
13. However, a delay in Saskatoon, Sask.,
made the arrival very late. It was close to
11 p.m. before the craft landed. Thousands
of spectators were on hand to watch the huge
ship land. Mr. and Mrs. I. L. Pedersen and
their son Carl were also there. Carl was
carrying his 35 mm. high-speed camera.
After the official reception had taken place
the Pedersens were on their way to their
car. Traffic was very heavy. They stopped to
study for a moment the sky and the night
scene, the crowded road and the brightly
lighted hangars. The weather was clear with
a light cloud layer coming in from the east.
Looking upward, Carl's attention was
suddenly riveted on a tiny orange light
coming in from the west. This light was
performing in a most unusual manner,
blinking at irregular intervals, in a sort
of pulsating fashion. The Pedersens watched
attentively as the light appeared to make a
descending oscillating approach toward the
main runway, finally rising erratically to
considerable height where it hovered
directly, it seemed, above the Russian
aircraft. By this time a crowd was gathering
nearby to watch the light, excitedly
discussing among themselves what the light
might be.
Immediately the light had completed its
descending movement, Carl had his camera
trained on it and was taking pictures. All
this while Mr. Pedersen, senior, had been
observing the light through binoculars. He
could distinguish no background silhouette
whatever, nor could his wife distinguish any
such silhouette. While the light was
hovering over the airport runway, they
observed a brightly luminous white cloud
immediately over their heads. It was
elipsoid in outline and was very clearly
defined. This white luminosity was quite
distinct and separate from the pinkish glow,
caused by the city's neon lights, reflected
by the clouds drifting in from the east. Mr.
Pedersen was concentrating on this cloud for
a moment and, to his surprise, something
either within the cloud, or behind it,
seemed to explode fanwise upward, displaying
a number of brilliant, pinpoint lights in a
brief flash. The cloud then divided itself
into two separate clouds of equal
brightness, with fringes touching, and
remained so for a moment before again
coalescing to become one cloud. This process
of separation took place a couple of times.
Mr. Pedersen looked about to see if there
were any searchlights in operation to
account for the phenomenon, but there were
no such lights anywhere to be seen, nor was
there any sign whatever of the customary
beam from such lights.
Mrs. Pedersen, meanwhile, had been occupied
observing closely the manoeuvring of the
orange light following its hovering
position. She startled us by shouting, “It’s
dancing!" The light, apparently, was going
through a hopping, or dancing motion, as it
set course in the direction of the luminous
cloud, passing it and disappearing
momentarily in the incoming cloud-layer, to
re-appear beside the white cloud describing
a pulsating, oscillating movement then
curving off in a great sweep, disappearing
in a north-easterly direction.
The whole affair, to them, took on an added
interest when it was considered that the
first Russian jet airliner to visit Canada
was reposing on the ground below the orange
light. They observed the phenomenon from
11.15 p.m. to 11.22 p.m. They have since
been wondering just who was watching whom?
Flying Saucer Review would like to hear from
anyone else who observed this phenomena at
Vancouver Airport.
HOMEPAGE