Nikon D800: Two Years

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: "It has 53 teeth still in place."

The Long Version: After two years the Nikon D800/e remains the best camera on the market. It's tough, it's fast, its image quality in good light is unequalled by any camera costing less than three times as much, and it's still among the very best in low light as well. Its viewfinder is superb, the controls are well considered, and as a bonus it works with some excellent lenses and speedlights.

Other cameras solve different problems, or emphasize different priorities. Smaller, lighter, faster, tougher, cheaper: all of them are possible, and sometimes a few of them occur in combination. But anyone who thinks that newer cameras have caught up to its image quality – yes, Sony A7r, I mean you – simply isn't paying attention.

Today is my D800's second birthday. After this much time with my D700 I had its faults precisely identified: obscure bracketing and custom white balance controls, 98% viewfinder, and too low resolution. The D800 fixes all but the awkwardness of setting a custom white balance, but I actually prefer to just shoot a white reference card and then sync everything in post, which is what I do with every other camera I own as well.

Compared to the D700, Nikon has only introduced one new shortcoming with the D800: the hand grip is not as comfortable. Those who have used both will know what I mean, and for everyone else it doesn't really matter. Some day I may try building up the hand grip a bit, but I'll probably never bother. It's really a matter of hand position, and not trying to grip the camera in a fist, which is easy enough when shooting but a bit harder when the camera is held at rest. The MB-D12 helps.

The past two years of marching technology is really only apparent in the D800's LCD and Live View implementation. A contemporary cutting-edge screen would be nice, but mostly I'd like a better magnified view and manual focusing assistance modes. I'll use a Hoodman loupe to shield the LCD when I need to focus precisely outdoors, but even then it isn't always easy to see where critical focus falls. If this could be tweaked within the existing camera I'd take it, but I certainly wouldn't upgrade the camera over it, should the inevitable day come when there's one out there that thinks it can succeed the D800.

There are a lot of really good cameras out there. Nikon has several and Canon makes a few, as do Fuji and Olympus; Panasonic and the former Pentax have one each as well. The market for mirrorless cameras has changed radically since the D800 came out – the X-Pro1 is also two years old – while the SLR world hasn't really changed at all.

Maybe SLRs are dinosaurs, being undercut by the smaller and nimbler 16 megapixel squirrel-like mammals with cropped tails. But it's worth noting that mammals didn't end the dinosaur's reign – it took an asteroid. There's no telling what the future will bring, but in the mean time the D800 will continue to be one of the cameras that rules the earth.

last updated 4 dec 2010

Nikon 1 V1, Part 3

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Adequate verging on sufficient.

The Long Version: Welcome to the third instalment of my overly-long-running review of the obsolete Nikon 1 V1. Part one was mostly getting the negatives out of the way, while part two took a sunnier view on things. Now it's finally time to look at the image quality of the camera that I've nicknamed "that stupid f'cking little piece of sh't". But don't read too much into that – I give affectionate nicknames to many of my cameras.

The first thing you need to know about image quality is that the V1 really wants to have a shutter speed of 1/30s, and won't increase its iso sensitivity to go faster than that. This is fine for the 10-30mm, and almost acceptable with good technique with the 30-110mm, as they both have in-lens image stabilization. The unstabilized 10mm f/2.8 should also be good with this – I don't own it to test – but the camera isn't clever enough to boost its minimun shutter speed with the 18.5mm, which is a 50mm-equivalent.

Let me tell you, 1/30 at 50mm isn't nearly fast enough to avoid camera shake with this lightweight little LCD-based camera. And this isn't just a 'low light' thing – I've run into its limitations on a cloudy day. This camera can't be trusted to do its own thing, and needs to be actively managed.

I'm generally happy with the V1 up to about iso800, which looks a little like iso6400 on my D800, but iso400 and under does create a significantly better file. I've printed the Rubbermaid photo above, taken at iso1000, as an 18x12, and it shows noise and artifacts under critical examination. Especially for higher iso settings, the modest per-pixel image quality makes low-DPI prints and uprezzing more difficult than usual. Yes, plenty of people make big prints from low-resolution cameras, but noise and noise removal – even with raw files – will make marginal prints from the V1 break up and look digital in a bad way.

On the other hand, the shipping container photo below, at a functionally identical iso900, passed scrutiny that's much more incisive than mine at the same size. Content matters tremendously, and it's overly simplistic to set an absolute limit on what will and won't be satisfactory ahead of time. My lesson from this is to use the shutter speed and aperture that the camera and photo requires, respectively, and let the iso sort itself out. Yes, this sometimes leads to disappointment, but I'd rather have a noisy photo than a blurry one, or worse, no photo at all.

But for web-sized images or snapshots none of this really matters. Properly managed, with the camera forced to use a sensible shutter speed and a reasonable iso setting, the V1's image quality is actually pretty decent. Coupled with its small lenses the V1 is a great camera for wandering around the city with, and I wouldn't feel foolish carrying it as my only camera for any multi-day trip that doesn't have photography as its primary goal.

The V1 lacks the modern nicety of having lens distortion correction built into the camera, and all of the lenses would benefit from it. Fortunately both Lightroom and DxO Optics, the two programs I use, support most of the 1's lenses. I'm just waiting for the 18.5mm lens to be supported, and when that finally catches up then I'll never hesitate to use it.

As a three-lens kit the V1 with the 10-30, 30-110, and fast normal 18.5mm prime makes for a flexible combination. Of the three the 30-110 is my favourite, and it seems to be a bit better than the 10-30, but really all of them are about as good as the camera. That's not a ringing endorsement, it's true, but this isn't an inherently exciting system.

Even at 'only' 10 megapickles, the V1's pixel density would make for a 74Mpx full-frame sensor, so designing appropriately small and inexpensive lenses is a major accomplishment. I've rounded out my lens options by adding the FT-1 adapter to my kit, and can't say that even the best F-mount lenses really blow me away on the V1, either. More on that in yet another review instalment, but for now the short version is that the 1-system lenses are fine.

When compared to recent cameras its image quality offers few surprises. It's generally better than smaller compact cameras that cost about the same amount of money as the 1V1's fire-sale prices, and not as good as larger-sensored cameras that cost more. And despite all of my griping, it actually compares quite favourably to older cameras that I've used extensively, such as the Olympus E-3 or Panasonic GH1, which remain some of the better 4/3 sensors out there.

The V1's image quality is good enough for pretty much everything that I usually do, so I know I'll have generally decent results from it, but it's tough being the little brother to a D800. The V1 is the camera that I carry when I'm carrying something else, whether it's a bigger camera that will benefit from the V1's small size and zoom lenses, or my audio kit that benefits from its silence.

So despite being deeply flawed as a photo-taking device, the reality is that the V1 makes an excellent sidekick, and there isn't a camera out there that would be a better match for my needs. Yes, that's a little sad in many ways, but that's just the way it is some times.

last updated 18 feb 2013

Caran d'Ache 849 Office Pen

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's an acquired taste.

The Long Version: It's been four years since I reviewed my Caran d'Ache 849 in its snazzy "Metal X" slick finish. I've rarely carried anything else in the intervening years, and it shows in the finish – but those scrapes and marks are well-earned. I carry my pen clipped in my back pocket, alongside whichever pocket knife I'm carrying that day, so it's constantly up against very hard and typically square-edged tool steel. I actually like the pen more now that it shows some wear and personality – so much so that I've bought another one.

This new 849 in "oh-my-effing-god Orange" called to me from its shelf at Swipe. The colour amuses me. This pen has proven almost impossible to lose, either when it's next to me on my black desk or when I've left it on the far side of a large room. Orange is a tough colour – it's too easy to get it wrong and come away with something unappealing, and even when it works there's a lot of variation. The orange in my large Timbuk2 bag is more of a copper-yellow, my Blaze Orange toque has a lot more red in it. Even my mug in Pantone's 2012 Colour of the Year, 'Tangerine Tango', doesn't manage to out-orange this Caran d'Ache. Awesome.

Hopefully I'll be back in another four years with another update.

last updated 9 feb 2013

Spyderco CF Caly3: One Year Later

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: You had me at "laminated steel".

The Long Version: A year ago I bought a Spyderco Caly3 CF, so it's time for a quick update to the original review. To recap just a little, my reason for buying the Caly is that I really like my old Spyderco Native, but wanted a plain edge; my conclusion was that they're both great knives, and I couldn't really recommend either of the current generation over the other.

Well, the reality is that I carried the Caly almost exclusively for half a year, and only started using the others again when I noticed that the Caly was wearing through the back pockets of all of my jeans. The very similar Native almost never made it out of the house; my second choice was my clip-point 3" Voyager, and occasionally I'd carry one of my 4" Benchmades for variety.

The Calypso is the most sophisticated and functional knife I own. It has an excellent blade and a superb handle; the carbon fibre scales have enough grip and the thin profile carries extremely well. Yes, I wish that the scales at the pivot end wouldn't wear through my jeans quite so quickly, and the broad blade makes it difficult to accomodate my phone in the same pocket, but those are easy to forgive in exchange for such a great shape.

A slightly larger issue is that the open/close action isn't particularly smooth, and sometimes emits a slight squeak. It's not ideal, but it has never been annoying enough to make me investigate possible solutions, let alone enough to discourage me from carrying and using the knife. And after a year those are the only little quibbles that I have.

I've even become accustomed to the deep-carry pocket clip, which none of my other knives have. The last time that I carried my Stryker I realized that I was taking it out of my pocket by wrapping my index finger under the bottom of the clip, a la caly, instead of by grasping the butt of the knife between thumb and knuckle, which was my old method.

The refinement of the Caly's construction is really remarkable. It's easy enough to design a knife that works well when it's open, but look at the way the closed blade merges into the handle. It's perfect. There are some really exceptional knives that miss details like this, and it makes the Caly3 very nice to handle and carry.

The Caly's flat-ground blade is amazing, being able to slice exceptionally well and being easy to insert between the flaps of a sealed cardboard box. Because, let's face it, I'm no Survivorman wannabe: I use knives for breaking tape, cutting cardboard, stripping labels, and otherwise opening things. But I do actually use a knife on a daily basis, and the Caly3 has handled every task I've tried. I do occasionally need to sharpen the awesome ZDP steel that makes up the core of the laminated blade, but it does hold and edge significantly better than the ATS134, 154CM, or AUS8A steel in my other knives.

Size is always a contentious issue – look at the excitement when Apple offers an extra half-inch – and a lot of the appeal of a certain knife will depend on how it's being used. For box-breaking duty I like to keep my index finger along the side of the blade as a depth control, and the Caly's blade and handle design is as large as I can comfortably hold without over-extending my average-sized hand or gripping the knife by the sharp bits. Even the Spyderco hole comes into play here, providing a better grip for my thumb.

It's possible that the Caly3 really could be my perfect knife – or, at the very least, one of my perfect knives. No matter how good the Caly is, I accumulate knives because I enjoy them, not because I have some life-critical task that can't be done with my current selection. So the fact that I've just gone ahead and ordered yet another knife isn't a criticism of the Caly3; in fact, the one that I've picked out to complement it is an overwhelming testament to its excellence.

But that's a review for another day.

last updated 14 sep 2012

Eye-Fi Pro X2 WiFi SDHC Card

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: I've finally found something that it's good for.

The Long Version: One side effect of having this little review blog is that it reminds me of how long I've owned different bits of equipment, especially if I'm thinking about writing a follow-up. I'll look back through the years and be amazed at just how much time has passed without me really noticing. Not so with my Eye-Fi X2 Pro card: it has been such an ongoing hassle that I was amazed to see that it has only been a year.

My first review of this card was mostly dealing with the experience of trying to set it up and make it work. I don't know if that process has improved any, but a lot has changed for the card and the software itself. It has gone through two major firmware versions, the client software that needs to run on the supporting computer has been updated, and I've routinely used the card in two more cameras.

One year ago the Eye-Fi card was a major nuisance to use. The connection was poor and I would frequently need to reboot my computer to force the software to reset, but the updates have improved the process to the point where I now only need to reboot every week or two. So right off the bat that's a real improvement, even if it's still not really good.

Using a camera that's 'Eye-Fi Connected' also makes a big difference to the experience. My unconnected Panasonic TS3 would happily time out and turn off during the data transfer. No pixels are harmed when that happens, but having to constantly tap the shutter button to keep the camera awake – or setting it to never turn off, which risks running down the battery in a moment of carelessness – goes a long way toward defeating the ease-of-use that the card promised.

Moving the card to my more-compatible Canon S100 was a big improvement. The camera won't turn off when there's a data link running, and it displays an icon on the playback image to show if that particular photo has been transmitted. Very handy. But sending 15-20MB raw files isn't a lot of fun, and the little battery in the S100 would quickly be depleted. My answer to that was to take the Eye-Fi card out of the camera and plug it into a USB card reader, which would then supply the power for long WiFi file transfer sessions. Something about that suggests that there's a fault in my problem-solving methods, but it was the best that I could do.

The Eye-Fi card has most recently come to rest in my Nikon D800. At last, it's just about perfect. Raw files go to my CF card, and small jpegs are sent to the SD card slot. The card has no problem with the 2.5MB files – "small" in D800-land is still a 9Mpx image – and the hefty battery is too big to be run down by the task. I just never bother turning the camera off, and the images are automatically downloaded onto my laptop and imported into Lightroom without me needing to do anything at all.

Except for rebooting the computer a few times a month, at least.

So it's with a certain joy that I can finally say that I've found something that the Eye-Fi card is good for. It took a year of work-arounds and making-do, but this $120 card finally lives up to its promise. Except that now it costs about $80. You win some, you lose some.

One other note is that the antenna in the Eye-Fi card is, by necessity, tiny. The closer it is to the WiFi router the happier it will be, but this is especially important for the direct card-to-camera transfer that the X2 Pro model allows. Essentially the camera needs to be no farther from the computer than it would be if it was connected by a cable, and closer is even better. But even this remains useful, since no actual cable is required, and was excellent when I wanted to work through the focus-tuning on my D800.

So that's it: an SLR, or other camera with big batteries, that has a secondary SD card slot to send jpeg files to, can be a good place to use an Eye-Fi card. Everything else that I've tried has involved unexpected inconvenience and occasionally considerable annoyance, and certainly not offered any great improvement over the standard plug-into-reader SD card experience that's available for much less expense. It's a very narrow recommendation, but I can finally say that if my Eye-Fi card stopped woking, I might actually consider replacing it with another one.

last updated 5 apr 2012

Xootr Swift: Two Years Later

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 5 out of 5
Yeah, but: Little wheels even make it easier to open doors.

The Long Version: Two years ago I wrote about the Xootr Swift folding bike, and it remains one of the most popular reviews on this website. Now it's time for a follow-up.

First, a quick recap for those who arrived here directly, and don't want to wade through the original report: the Swift is an apartment-friendly design from New York City that has a simple and strong fold, but at the expense of being larger than just about any folding bike when it's compacted down. Rather than following the British model of a bike that will fit under a seat on the tube, this is a quintessentially American bike that will fit in the boot – trunk – of a mid-sized car.

The Swift folds vertically, being split on the seat tube and locked in place by two quick-releases that clamp the seat post in place. It's an exceptional use of the inherent strength of these components, and is both visually and mechanically elegant. The bike comfortably fits sideways in a storage room that's barely wider than its own doorway.

Normally the seat post will lock the bike tightly into its folded position, but my Crossrack stops it from dropping far enough down. Instead I just secure the seat tube to the top tube with a reflective ankle strap, which is actually the only time that I need one of those ultra-fashionable accessories. Small wheels mean that the Swift has an unusually large front chain ring, putting the chain too high to snag the cuff of my jeans or my shoelaces, and it even has a built-in guard for good measure. That's a huge win for the Swift.

A few things have changed compared to when the bike was new. While the stock brakes on the Swift are decent, I've upgraded to Shimano Deore levers and V-brakes for a significant improvement in stopping power. There's less flex in the system now, making the whole thing crisper and giving me more confidence on the road. Changing the brakes over was easy, and the standard-length cables that the kit came with were ample.

I've also swapped out the stock pedals for bigger platforms. I bike wearing soft shoes – inefficient but practical – and these BMX-style pedals are more comfortable and, to my eye, look better. They're nothing fancy, being about the cheapest ones that MEC sells, but if I was looking for ways to drop weight and improve performance my bike wouldn't be the one with the most work to do.

Other minor positioning and accessory refinements mean that the bike suits me even better now than it did when it was brand new. But the biggest change is that I've replaced the stock Kenda Swift tires with Schwalbe Big Apples. These tires are relatively famous, and really change the personality of the bike. I've split off my experience with them into a separate review here.

During the riding season my Swift stays out on the balcony, and I have to admit that I don't pamper it. Two years have left rust on the bolt of the quick release that holds the handlebar riser in place, as well as faint hints of rust on the riser itself. The chain shows some rust, as chains will do, but the other quick releases are clean. There was also some rust on the curved brake cable guides, the part right above the brakes themselves, but those are gone now.

Aside from that there are a few more nicks and scratches on the frame, and the half-grip on the right side of the handlebar needs to be snugged back into place occasionally. I could just fix that with some cheap hairspray, but now I keep it in place with a bar-end bell instead. And that's it – aside from those very minor instances of wear-and-tear, the bike is just as solid as it was when it was brand new. There's no new wiggle, no extra flex, no movement in the frame pivot and no creaks or rattles.

I fell in love with the Swift as soon as I took it out on the streets, and I'm still just as happy with it after these two years. Last summer I had a delusional episode and considered switching to skinny tires and clip-on bars, because I have no doubt that some lighter components could make the Swift into a respectable racer. I'm nowhere near fit or dedicated enough to pull that off, but it's nice to know that it's possible. For the bike, at least. As for me, I'm perfectly happy with having a tough and versatile commuter bike that I can have some fun with on the weekends.

After two years I still have to give the Swift a perfect score, which is something I almost never do. In a world of compromises and design decisions, I really can't see how Xootr could have made a better bike for less money. The usual caveat of making sure that it's the right choice for the purpose remains: it's a small-wheeled bike that folds down a little, instead of being a cubic foot of components that latch together into something ridable. But aside from that, I'd recommend the Swift for anyone who's looking for a folder, or even for anyone who just wants a great all-purpose urban bike. I'm looking forward to many more happy years with mine.

last updated 27 july 2011

100 Days with the Panasonic TS3

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's still the best.*

The Long Version: Digital cameras are funny things. There's no reason why one that's properly taken care of won't live for seven or eight years, but in market terms they're obsolete in a tenth of that. A compact camera has no chance to become a competent and well-rounded member of electronic society before being forced to make its way in the world, ultimately being replaced by another immature model that promises a slight improvement over what came before.

The Panasonic TS3 is the the fourth waterproof camera that Panasonic has made, starting with the TS1 which was released in 2009. We know that it's better than the TS2 because it has a higher model number, and it's more expensive than the TS10. I've been using one daily for three months now, and to celebrate I decided to hang out with it for a saturday afternoon in Coney Island. That's where I took the photos for my first look at this little camera, so redoing the twenty-three hours in transit just felt right.

I spent very little time on image quality in my first look, so that's where I'll start here. Frequently decent, typically good, rarely outstanding: the TS3 isn't designed for peak performance, and that's okay. Being happy with any compact camera is a matter of having realistic expectations. When I use it in perfect conditions and look at the photos with a critical eye at high magnifications, I'm frequently disappointed to see that the fine detail is blocky, pixelated, and smeared. In low light or bad conditions my forgiving spirit will be pleased with the successes and accepting of its failures, even though the results are still blocky, pixelated, and smeared. Happiness is a function of attitude: the TS3 isn't an SLR, and an SLR can't be thrown in a fountain for fun. At least, not multiple times.

I've owned a waterproof camera before, and then had a brief relationship with a superzoom, so I knew what I wanted this time around. But even still these past three months have been a surprise as I find new ways to have fun with the orange TS3. Plunking it down in fountains, swimming pools, and puddles has become an engaging pastime for me. I've used it for street photography, to document lawlessness, and I've even taken a few photos that I really like. I bought it to be my digital take-everywhere counterpart to my film cameras, and while I confess that I haven't always carried it, the few times that I haven't I've often regretted my oversight.

The TS3 is just a fun camera. It's not the smallest, being a boxy design that's larger than the average 4.6x zoom compact, and much larger than the cellphone that has mostly replaced them. Perhaps the future will see me using a phone in place of a camera, but not yet. Until cell phones become waterproof, develop really long zoom ranges, or become capable of actual autofocus, dedicated cameras will remain superior.

When I first looked at the TS3, the "Mode" button and the various scene selections were a big deal. I would like to say that I've come to appreciate the thought and planning that went into the cameras' interface, but, well, no.

Pressing the "Mode" key once brings up the quick-access scene modes. There are eight positions, including the one that goes to the additional scene options. These are reached by navigating with the four-way controller and selected with the Menu/Set button. I've found three modes to be useful, and will typically switch between "Normal", "High Dynamic [Range]", and "Handheld Night Shot". Moving from either of the last two to Normal takes four button presses, while going from Normal to one of the others will take between six to a dozen button presses. That's atrocious, but it's also about average for a compact camera.

Now, I'm not one to write An Open Letter To A Camera Manufacturer, or to use my Vast Internet Knowledge (meaning: none) of software and product design to insist that a problem can be solved with three magical lines of code. But the fix to this problem isn't that hard to envision. The TS3 already remembers the last scene mode that was used, and my Panasonic GH1 has a menu devoted to the most recently chosen menu items. Imagine combining those two ideas, and have the eight options on the first page be a combination of the ones that Panasonic thinks are important as well as the ones most recently used.

Intelligent Auto and Normal should always be there, the Beach and Snorkelling mode is a great tribute to the TS3's capability, and perhaps the 3D mode is important to Panasonic's feeling of self-worth. That still leaves four more slots to fill. Make the fifth Mode position, underneath the Intelligent Auto function, be the scene mode that's been used the most over the lifespan of the camera – or the past few months, whichever. The other three positions on the bottom row should be the scene modes that were most recently used, naturally without repetition if one of them happens to be the all-time favourite.

The most popular modes could then be reached in as few as three to a maximum of five button-presses, including the Mode button to start the process and the Set button to select the correct one. That's still a lot, but keeping the most popular results together will add to the usability advantage. If the desired scene mode isn't on that top screen, make pressing the "Mode" button again bring up each additional screen. There are already times when multiple presses of a button calls up additional options, so this wouldn't be violating any usability guidelines, should such a thing exist.

While all of this time spent on scene modes may seem silly to anyone who wrongly thinks that using a dSLR in Manual mode makes them hard core, they're about the only way to actually exercise any influence over the TS3. Certain modes can do things that would otherwise be beyond the cameras' capabilities, while others have some utility that's only apparent on further exploration. The manual does a poor job of explaining these, and the on-screen help is no better, but the Panasonic Imaging catalog almost verges on useful. From those sources and my own experience, here's a quick overview of the noteworthy modes. (Many Panasonic cameras share the same settings, so this actually applies to more than the TS3/FT3.)

Beach and Snorkelling is for normal use, including underwater, while the Underwater mode is intended to be used with a sold-separately diving case.

3D is only viewable on a 3D TV, which Panasonic just happens to make. Fancy that.

Self Portrait is actually useful, as the front AF Assist LED becomes a focus confirmation light. Solid is good, flashing means it didn't work.

Panorama Assist is nothing like the Sweep Panorama of Sony or Fuji fame, but instead it provides a guide for taking a series of photos that can be combined later on the computer. Canon cameras have worked this way since the start of the century.

Handheld Night Shot takes a quick series of photos and then merges them into one 3MP image. This is quite a clever trick, and it's even smart enough to handle movement reasonably well.

Baby/Pet: The Pet mode sets the iso higher, and the Baby modes soften the skin tones just in case the subject is ugly. Both of these modes can be used to keep track of how old your baby/pet is as an aid to the forgetful.

High Sens[itivity] is an iso3200 mode that automatically reduces the output to 3MP. Not bad when the Handheld Night mode isn't an option, like the times when the subject's too close to the camera. In better light it will stick with iso1600, in which case the results are still better than a 3MP iso1600 photo taken in "normal" mode.

High Speed Burst mode takes little photos (the typical 3MP) at about 7fps, much faster than the burst setting in the Normal mode. The Flash Burst mode isn't nearly as impressive, but having the camera set to Burst shooting in Normal mode disables the flash, so there you are.

Starry Sky allows long exposures of 15, 30, or 60 seconds. The time is chosen manually with no guidance from the camera, and the dark-frame subtraction noise reduction doubles the taking time. The camera uses iso100, and the results aren't bad.

Pin Hole and Film Grain allow the easy shooting of artistic photo, with the light fall off at edges, or the effect like a grain of sand. [sic]

High Dynamic [Range] is an interesting effect. The camera seems to take only one photo, but then inverts the tone curve to give an exaggerated low-contrast image that looks an awful lot like an HDR photo. The sub-mode "Art" further exaggerates the colours, making it more suitable for Flickr, while the monochrome option can be quite decent. The only thing to watch for is that transition edges are darker than they should be, but I personally find that better than the brighter halos that other methods tend to produce.

One thing a lot of people ask about is the "lens cover" for the TS3. None of the Panasonic waterproof cameras have one – in fact, it's only the Olympus SW/Tough series that do. My old Stylus 770SW has a metal cover that pivots closed over the lens, but not only would this occasionally have sand caught in it, it didn't even stop the front element of the lens from being pitted. While I do try to take care with the TS3, I've still subjected it to treatment that's scratched the rear LCD cover, but the lens remains pristine. I did manage to smear it with sunscreen when I was in Coney Island, causing some interesting effects, but that's hardly the cameras' fault.

Another consideration with all small cameras is battery life. I've turned off the GPS on mine, which helps a bit, but I use an Eye-Fi card for data transfer, which clobbers it. Having two batteries is just a sensible thing to do for any camera, and having a second BCF10 for the TS3 is no exception. It's worth including the extra cost in the budget for the camera, and remember that Panasonic locks out the generics.

Oh, and the reason for the Eye-Fi card is that every time the door has been opened – to change the battery, remove the SD card, or use the data ports – the camera puts up a nagging warning to make sure that the seals are clean. After the fifteenth time it gets a bit much.

Another interesting quirk about the TS3 is that it can be turned on in Playback mode by holding down the "play" button. This might be a concession to usability, although it's an odd place for them to choose to cut out one button press (power>play). I suspect that it's a carryover from a generic firmware package, because being able to review images without extending the lens mechanism is very useful for most cameras – but not the TS3. The compact camera market changes quickly and these little devices are never given the chance to mature, so again, although this may show a certain lack of craftsmanship, it's no different from every other little camera on the market.

When I first wrote my thoughts on the TS3, I was leaving the camera set to five megapickles in the reasoning that it saves space on the card and computer, while not reducing its image quality for any practical purpose. Looking at photos taken with both settings, I find that the down-sampling that the camera does isn't particularly good. I haven't really found any conclusive difference between the 5MP at 1:1 and the 12MP setting at 1:2, and certainly can't see any difference between them at web sizes or in small prints, but I've switched back to the full-size images because it's the only way to defeat the digital "EZ" zoom. A 12MP file is about 5MB, 5MP is 3MB, and the 3MP setting results in files around a megabyte each.

I've taken almost 2500 photos in the 100 days that I've owned the TS3. I can't say that any of them have been masterpieces, but that's not what I've been trying for. Despite my cynicism and overall bleak regard for compact cameras and the market churn that produces them, the TS3 is an enjoyable little device that does what I want it to, if not quite how I want it to.

I'm happy with the TS3, and in the past few months I've seen nothing from it or any other manufacturer that makes me doubt my camera choice. If Panasonic would fix some of the usability and interface issues with the next year's model I would consider buying it as well. But with both image quality and usability, I'm willing to accept that these compromises and mixed results are an unavoidable fact of life while hoping that someone's willing and able to prove me wrong. Until that happens, my TS3 and I will be having lots of fun as we go about our daily lives, with just the occasional diversions into lakes, oceans, swimming pools, and fountains.


(*among waterproof and shockproof compact cameras, as of 29 June 2011.)

last updated 30 June 2011

Opinel #6 and #10 Knives

Concept:  3 out of 5
Execution:  3 out of 5
Yeah, but:  They're just like the #8, but more so.

The Long Version: I reviewed the Opinel #8 knife back in the beginning of December, and liked the 8.5cm model so much that I decided to pick up the smaller and larger sizes as well. The #6 has a 7cm blade, and the #10 is 10cm long. A centimetre and an half either way doesn't seem like much, but it makes a huge difference in the character of each tool. The fundamentals of the construction is unchanged from the #8, so I won't repeat those parts of my first review, and instead will skip straight to what I've learned from these two.

The biggest surprise of adding these two knives to my collection is that each blade has a different thickness. The smaller #6 is thinner, while the #10 is thicker. That doesn't sound all that profound, and it makes perfect sense, but these knives are so inexpensive that I was keep expecting them to be cheap. Instead they're each tuned to their own best use without unnecessary compromises. The other surprise is that the locking collars are nowhere near as stiff as the one on my #8, with the #6 being quite loose, so there is an element of variability in the manufacture and/or quality control of these knives.

The #6 is a very small knife, having a thinner handle that's easier to carry in a pocket, and it does a very good job at breaking packing tape and slicing paper. This is mostly what I use a knife for, making the #6 my usual choice, but it gives up the versatility of the bigger #8. The #10 is the same sort of thing but in the other direction, being substantially bigger with a much heftier handle, making it less suitable for general use but better at the 'big knife' tasks that might come along. I'm still not sure that I'd pick it over a Buck 110 as a working knife, but it's much lighter with a very similar - but slightly thinner - blade. If I were to accidentally go camping, I'd want the #10 for utility tasks, but I'd still want the #8 for kitchen duties.

Now that I own three different sizes, I'd still recommend the intermediate #8 as the best general-purpose tool. The smaller and larger sizes have their specialties, and are very useful for light or heavier-duty tasks, so if you know you'll need one or the other then you can't go wrong. After all, they're under $20 each, so there's no reason not to have a variety.

last updated 18 feb 2011

Billingham Hadley Pro: One Year Later

Concept:  4 out of 5
Execution:  4 out of 5
Yeah, but:  What can change in a year?

The Long Version: The Billingham Hadley Pro has been my main camera bag for over a year now, so it's time to take a look back and see how it has performed. The initial review of it is here; it provides some background on what the bag is, what it holds, and how it compares to the more common Domke bags that (superficially) share its specifications. Since that was written my Hadley was with me on a day trip to Chicago and a ten-day stay in New York City; in this past year I've bought three new cameras, eight more lenses, and even another camera bag. This review is looking at everything I've learned in that time, and how my opinions and the bag have changed.

Camera bags are one of those things that get outgrown as equipment changes, but I'm pleased to report that my Billingham has been immune to that problem. Everything that's packed into my Hadley Pro in the lead photo for this review has joined my collection after I bought the bag. The left side has a 500ml water bottle, and the centre has a Hasselblad 500c/m medium format camera. (Note that it's wearing the CF150 f/4 Sonnar, not the smaller and more common 80/2.8 Planar.) Rounding out the contents is a Zeiss Ikon with a 1,5/50 Sonnar attached, and it's sitting on top of a 2/35 Biogon. There's also the paperback novel that's artfully peeking out of a pocket, and plenty of room for film and other necessities in the other pocket: this bag is ready for a day doing just about anything without looking overloaded.

There are a few reasons why the Hadley Pro has outlasted the other bags that I've bought. For one thing, it's such a great size that it's the bag to buy even if something smaller could do the right-now job, so it's not likely to be outgrown. And speaking euphemistically, having one is such a luxury that not using it simply isn't an option; there's a certain amount of dog-wagging when it comes time to chose and carry photo gear. The 500ml water bottle and Hassleblad were both bought after checking to make certain they would fit in the Hadley. When I choose my equipment I simply prefer to use the cameras that will fit comfortably in the Billingham; when I look at other camera bags I can't find any that I would prefer to own or use.

Naturally, the Hadley shows some wear and tear after a year's use, but it's nothing extraordinary. I took an opportunity to compare mine to a brand-new bag, and I was surprised at how little difference there was. Yes, my bag (on left, bigger version here) looks a little more 'lived in', with the fabric of the strap and the handle showing a bit of fuzziness, and the leather on the side has been scuffed up. The leather latches that keep the bag closed have worked in exactly as I expected, and there's just a small wear spot on the corner of the lid where the strap rubs against it. Not bad for a bag with a couple thousand kilometres on it, and one that I use as my general-purpose bag most of the time. My Hadley just shows a little bit of character – it's a long way from being disreputable.

One feature that separates the Pro from the amateur Hadley models is the top handle.  This attaches to a reinforcing strip within the lid, which creates a convenient place to accumulate dust and lint. The bag can be cleaned with a damp cloth, but I usually just dust it off by hand from time to time. It is true that black shows dirt easily, but I love the look of the black fabric with black leather and nickel hardware. Very classy and professional but without drawing any undue attention to itself, and it still looks great with jeans.

The top handle is one of the standout features of this bag, and shows no sign of weakness or tearing after my first year with it. I use it all the time, and now I can't imagine buying a bag without a decent handle. In confined spaces, whether a bus, boat, plane, or submarine, it's been an easy way to control the bag and make sure it stays with me, even when I haven't been able to sling it over a shoulder. I use it without thinking and don't notice it the rest of the time. If there's a higher compliment to pay to a design, I can't imagine what it would be.

The aspect of the Pro that I initially wasn't thrilled with is the flapped-and-zippered rear pocket. The Domke F6 that I've previously used for travel has a rear slash pocket that's left open at the top, and the flexible bag means that it can hold an airline ticket one moment and a novel the next. That's been very handy when my flight's finally called and I need to rush somewhere after an hour of waiting. The Hadley design is less convenient to use and can't hold as much, but trades that for security that the Domke can't match. The Hadley is unquestionably better when it comes to carrying passports and those other paper extras that shouldn't stay behind in a hotel room, and magazines and novels can slip into its main compartment or a front pocket, respectively. I have gotten used to this slightly slower but more dignified way of storing items, but I still wish that it had an open slash pocket at the back, and slim passport-sized slots within the two front pockets.

I hesitate to mention it, because it really is a minor thing of no significance, but I do wish that the pleating on the expanding front pockets would fold down a little more neatly. Even when they're empty, and even when the bags are new, they like to pouch out the way they have in these photos. But then again, I wear button-down collars to work while my colleagues are comfortable in band T-shirts and hoodies, so perhaps I'm a little more – for the sake of politeness – methodical than most.

While my Hadley and I were attending PhotoPlus Expo in New York City last year, we were lucky enough to be able to visit the Billingham booth. I was able to spend a few minutes talking to a vice president whose last name happened to be the one on the products. While I know intellectually that Billingham is a family business, actually meeting one of the family came as a surprise. We talked briefly about camera-store retail in Canada, and he gave me the little trinket that I've clipped to the left side of my bag. It's a black leather strap with a nickel stud closure that slips into one of the side attachment points, and originally held a split-ring that I've replaced with a small biner clip. I have no idea what it's actually for – I suspect it's a novelty keyring – and there's nothing like it listed on their website as available for sale. I use it as a place to snap a wet `brolly, and it makes me feel suitably British to be able to say that.

While I will pick a different bag if I know that I'll be facing heavy rain, I've never had any problem with the canvas Billingham in the occasional shower. The latches hold securely, and the design of the cover leaves no gaps for water to sneak in through. The material in my bag is still new enough that the Stormblock waterproofing has water beading long before it wets the fabric. Once that effect wears off, the canvas will swell when it gets damp, tightening the weave and blocking water from entering in a way that synthetics can't. So despite the natural fabric and leather trim, this isn't a bag that needs to be coddled or protected from the big bad world, and mine has held up very nicely despite being exposed to the rigours and hardships of normal use.

I have met people who are genuinely unable to understand why they may someday own more than one camera bag. I suspect that anyone who has read this far has a small closet with camera bags that don't get used any more, and a small selection of ones that still do. Well, a year with me is like spending several years with a more sensible photographer, so the fact that I still reach for the Hadley first is a major endorsement. Since it arrived in the house I've put away my trusty Domke F6 and used my Crumpler 6M$h only once; the Hadley Pro has taken over all of my small/medium camera carrying duties in addition to becoming my carryall when I don't need something as big as my Timbuk2 messenger bags. The massive Domke F1X is the only other camera shoulder bag that I occasionally still use, while the one camera bag that I bought last year is a Kata 261PL backpack for my Fujifilm GX680 medium format SLR. Every other time that I've felt the pull to buy another small bag I would just end up looking at different sizes of Hadley, and since I already own the best one, I've seen no reason to buy anything else.

Despite my love of travel, I don't drive. All of my getting-around is ultimately self-powered, even if that means I have to get myself onto a train or a bus, and I have to carry everything I'm going to need for the entire time that I'm out. Having the right bag is very important, and has a direct impact on my happiness and comfort. Billingham's Hadley Pro isn't the only bag I use, but it's by far my favourite, and there needs to be a reason why I can't use it before I'll carry something else. Even my beloved Domke F6 never crossed over into general use, but I'll still choose my Hadley for those rare times when I'm not bringing a camera. Yes, it's expensive, but if something unthinkable happens I would replace it in a heartbeat. I can't think of much higher praise than that.

last updated 10 feb 2011