There are a couple of details I like about this shot.
The most obvious is the boat in the distance. While it almost certainly has no connection with the couple on the jetty, its positioning might suggest otherwise. Have they been left behind? Or are they perhaps bidding farewell?
The other detail is much more minor, but it’s the way that the couple’s waists are aligned with the horizon. I didn’t do it deliberately, or not conciously at least, but it’s a cool little detail, I think.
Olympus Trip 35 & Colorplus. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
There was something in the jumble of white buildings, cluttered windows, and the bands of water and sky that appealed here. The classy looking powerboat adds a splash of additional warm colour at the bottom.
Olympus Trip 35 & Kodak Gold. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
This was one of the first photographs I took after getting of the boat to Venice. The canal is the Rio del Greci and the tower is the campanile bell tower of San Giorgio dei Greci (or Saint George of the Greeks, in English).
The foundations of the tower collapsed due to subsidence during the building phase, resulting in the leaning tower. It’s stood intact since 1592 when construction was completed, so it’s doing pretty well despite the lean.
Olympus Trip 35 & Kodak Gold. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
There are a trio of these yellow boats operating out of Whitby. One of them, Dash II (the smallest) operates upstream along the River Esk. The other two venture out into the North Sea, taking passengers on a short cruise up the coast towards Sandsend. Esk Belle III is the smaller of the seagoing boats, and Summer Queen is the largest. These latter two boats were a regular sight travelling in an out of the harbour as we wanderd around the town on this day.
I did wonder about cloning out the bird (I think it’s a pigeon) from the upper-right corner of the frame but, in the end, decided to give it its moment of fame instead.
Nikon F80, Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.5-5.6 D & Kodak Portra 800. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
While I’m sure that this little boat once served some actual water-borne purpose, it now looks to serve as decoration for this building which houses a shop, a cafe, and I believe, the inshore rescue service.
According to the sign, this is Newark’s famous floating pub. I’m not sure of it’s sphere of fame – I’d never heard of it until I visited Newark the other week – but I expect it’s well known to locals and those able to visit it with greater ease.
Whatever it’s fame, it was an attractive subject for some photographs and I’m really happy with how these turned out, even considering the shortcomings of the camera I used.
Reto Ultrawide & Slim & Kodak Gold. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
Springflower is the name of this decaying boat, pulled high up the bank above North Landing beach. Decaying boats are not something I see often, living in a land-locked city as I do, so I like to make pictures of them when I get the chance.
I think that this marks the end of the photos from my day-trip to Flamborough. On to something else tomorrow…
This decaying wooden boat sits high above the waterline up the steep slope that leads down to North Landing at Flamborough.
Not living close to the coast – well, for the UK at least, where I believe nowhere is more than about seventy miles from the coast, although that doesn’t necessarily mean a lovely beach or anything, for some it’ll be a dingy mud-flat – er.. where was I?.. Oh, yes…
Not living close to the coast, scenes like this are a big draw. While I can quite easily find nice countryside, city centres, or industrial locations withing close reach, beaches, boats, and actual sight of the sea always offer some novelty. I went through two rolls of 120 film, and the best part of a roll of 135 during this trip to Flamborough, something I might have been harder pressed to do in my more frequently visited locales.
Bronica ETRSi, Zenzanon 75mm f/2.8 PE & Lomography Color Negative 100 .
My Olympus OM-1 camera has suffered an annoying fault for a while now. After firing the shutter the mirror will sometimes lock up. Advancing the film drops it back down but the shutter remains locked and the only way to release it is to advance the film a second time (which shouldn’t be possible with the OM-1). When this second stroke of the advance lever takes place the camera also fires the shutter. After this it can be used normally again for the next shot. The problem means that every other shot is wasted – or mostly wasted as the problem tended to be intermittent.
Fot no real reason at all, I decided to look at the camera again today (without a film in it) and discovered that the issue now occurs on ever shot taken. I like the OM-1 – it was the first SLR I bough when I got back into shooting film cameras again – so I decided it would be worth trying to get it fixed. As the person who I’ve used for repairs and CLAs in the past has now retired, I tried a local repair shop that I’ve heard works on analogue cameras.
Upon phoning the shop, the guy there was quick to tell me that the repair would be costly and that I’d be better off using digital cameras. Rather than slam the phone down in disgust (:)) I explained that I enjoy the experience of using film cameras and that I’m not unaware of the issues that come with using vintage gear. He then mentioned that he’d had a box of stuff come into the workshop, including an OM-1 camera, which he would let me have for £40 sold-as-seen. £40 is a good price for an OM-1 these days so I headed over to the shop to take a look, figuring I could always turn it down if it looked like it might not be working properly. As it turned out, the camera appeared to be working as expected, including the meter, and was in great cosmetic condition so, after chatting with the guy for a while, I headed home with the camera – an OM-1N to replace the OM-1.
The camera probably needs new seals fitting, and it’s missing the hotshoe. I’d though that I could just swap over the hotshoe from my OM-1 (they just screw on and off with a thumbwheel), but it wouldn’t fit and it turns out that the design must have been slightly revised between models. Still, I’ve not once used the hotshoe on the OM-1, so I won’t miss it, and I’m more bothered by the empty screwhole on the top of the camera than any loss of functionality.
The other difference is that this replacement is expecting the original 1.3v mercury battery to power the meter accurately, whereas my OM-1 had been converted to meter properly using readily available 1.5v batteries. This means that I’ll either have to get it converted, or adapt zinc-air hearing aid batteries instead (I could use Wein cells, but these are much more expensive than the hearing aid cells). It’s a bit of a faff, but nothing insurmountable though.
I’ll get the seals replaces when I get the chance and then take it out for a test run.
Today’s picture is from back in 2018, when I took my original OM-1 with me on holiday to Sorrento, Italy.
Being forced to shoot with the lens wide open (or almost – this was at f/2) when using the crop 35mm lens in order to avoid heavy vignetting means that objects are thrown into pleasing relief with the drop-off in depth of field. It’s not massively pronounced when the subject is further away, but still there, as with this photo of a cruiser moored at Victoria Quays with the straddle warehouse in the background.
Is this a cruiser? I had to Google in case I had got it wrong!
Steel City Snapper photography 