Tim,
You are just a photodocumenting maniac! How you can have the presence of mind to stop so frequently to snap photos, I'll never understand. I set out with the best intentions, but somehow as I develop momentum in the work I forget that the camera's sitting there.
Do you have any plans/takers for that old icebox hatch and latch? At least, I assume it to be the icebox hatch. Or is it the anchor rhode (sp?) locker hatch?
Progress!
-
Tim
- Shipwright Extraordinaire
- Posts: 5708
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2003 6:39 pm
- Boat Name: Glissando
- Boat Type: Pearson Triton
- Location: Whitefield, ME
- Contact:
It's just one of those things, I guess. It's become second nature for me over the years. It all started with Glissando's restoration, when from the onset I tried hard to document every step of the process. Looking back, I find that at the beginning of that project, I didn't document nearly as well as I wish I had.
Now, I don't begin any project unless the camera is on hand. This is not a problem since all the major projects occur at home, and the camera is always at home. Sometimes I forget to bring it aboard during the season--but I rarely do major projects aboard during the season anyway. But I almost always bring it with me.
As I said, it's just second nature to pause at critical moments to snap a few frames. Even so, there are times when I "just say no" to stopping--like when I was lowering the Daysailor A4 over the side, and it was still hanging 10 feet in the air, as I watched the cockpit seats bend alarmingly under the weight beneath the ladder feet. I decided I would wait to take the pictures at least till the engine was only a couple feet above the ground (which I did).
My camera doesn't lead a cushy life. It lives in pockets, in dirty tote bags, thrown in with tools, on deck, in the sun, in the rain (not much in the rain, but it has been wet). It's not like I have a death wish for the camera--far from it (I really like the one I have)--but at the same time I don't baby it in the least. It's simply another work tool, and if something happens to it--so be it. Not feeling like the camera is a precious object helps me to always keep it close at hand, even if that means being grabbed with grubby paws in the middle of some particularly vile project.
The scary part is: for every photo that you see on one of the websites, I probably have 4 others (often more) that don't make the cut online. So my computer (and lots of CDs for backup--it would be beyond devastating to lose my photos) are filled with thousands of photos, most of which just show slightly different angles of a given shot. I choose the most clear and representative ones I can to post online--and, more and more, I throw caution to the winds and post an additional photo or two, even if it's slightly repetitive--just because I can! hehe I think the photos are almost like an addiction--the more I do, the more I need to do.
No amount of toil and trouble, personal inconvenience, or extra labor is too much for all of you, my dear readers!
There, in a "nutshell" (ha ha), are my thoughts on the subject! I don't ever really respond in a "nutshell", do I?
Tim
Now, I don't begin any project unless the camera is on hand. This is not a problem since all the major projects occur at home, and the camera is always at home. Sometimes I forget to bring it aboard during the season--but I rarely do major projects aboard during the season anyway. But I almost always bring it with me.
As I said, it's just second nature to pause at critical moments to snap a few frames. Even so, there are times when I "just say no" to stopping--like when I was lowering the Daysailor A4 over the side, and it was still hanging 10 feet in the air, as I watched the cockpit seats bend alarmingly under the weight beneath the ladder feet. I decided I would wait to take the pictures at least till the engine was only a couple feet above the ground (which I did).
My camera doesn't lead a cushy life. It lives in pockets, in dirty tote bags, thrown in with tools, on deck, in the sun, in the rain (not much in the rain, but it has been wet). It's not like I have a death wish for the camera--far from it (I really like the one I have)--but at the same time I don't baby it in the least. It's simply another work tool, and if something happens to it--so be it. Not feeling like the camera is a precious object helps me to always keep it close at hand, even if that means being grabbed with grubby paws in the middle of some particularly vile project.
The scary part is: for every photo that you see on one of the websites, I probably have 4 others (often more) that don't make the cut online. So my computer (and lots of CDs for backup--it would be beyond devastating to lose my photos) are filled with thousands of photos, most of which just show slightly different angles of a given shot. I choose the most clear and representative ones I can to post online--and, more and more, I throw caution to the winds and post an additional photo or two, even if it's slightly repetitive--just because I can! hehe I think the photos are almost like an addiction--the more I do, the more I need to do.
No amount of toil and trouble, personal inconvenience, or extra labor is too much for all of you, my dear readers!
There, in a "nutshell" (ha ha), are my thoughts on the subject! I don't ever really respond in a "nutshell", do I?
Tim