Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Compared to the earth forms that you see in this picture of Southern Utah, a process of millions of years in formation and still changing, the life of the slide film Kodachrome was but a fleeting moment. It was developed by Eastman Kodak in 1935 and production was discontinued in 2009, a life-span of 74 years. Yet, in those fleeting seven decades and a few years, those of us who read books, magazines, or just love to look at pretty colored pictures, have had our perceptions of how things look defined and formed by that one incredible photographic product. If you, for example, had never been to the Grand Canyon or the national parks of Southern Utah, you would have been able to form some mental impression of how they looked – a mind’s image shaped by the photographers that went there for you and put their images in National Geographic, calendars, picture books, or postcards sent to you by a friend or family member who travelled there. And then, when you went there, you would have stood on an overlook, staring in awe at the scenery, and would have said, or thought that it looked just like it did in the pictures.
One company, Eastman Kodak, with one product, Kodachrome Film, was able to capture the reality of the colors and sights of the earth, far and wide, and implant those images into the minds of millions of people around the planet. For the first time in history, people did not need to be transported to the site, but rather, the site was brought to them. It freed millions, who never had the opportunity to travel to distant places whenever they wished, to participate, to sense, and to know that what they saw in a photograph was the way it really appeared. Although the images were not absolutely the same as they reality they captured, their rendering on film was so real and so subtle that those who saw the real physical scenes for the first time would never doubt that the pictures back home looked even slightly different. A deep level of trust in the integrity of a photographic product became the foundation of our faith in our knowledge of how the world looked. Our mind’s image of photographs became our mental image of the planet. We knew that we were correct, that we had not been deceived and that we would not be disappointed when we travelled to the site and saw the real thing.
Today, due to costs, lack of convenience compared to digital photography, and forever increasing human impatience, film photography has largely given way to the new format. To those who never loaded a camera with film, took the pictures and sent them off to be developed, very little has been lost. The real problem for the new generation of photographers is that the new formats are ephemeral and very easily altered by unscrupulous photographers. A few years ago, perhaps fifteen, everybody was waiting to buy a digital camera when the resolution reached one megapixel. Now people are discarding or giving away cameras because they want to trade up to ten or fourteen from six. This is not say that there will ever be anything wrong with one megapixel images. They are excellent if viewed in a smaller format like five-by-seven and will preserve the moment of family history, or whatever, that they captured. After all, the best photographs are those three-by-fives that you pull out of a shoebox and see things that were lovingly, but casually captured way back during World War II. So, in the end, the size of this image is not the problem.
The more important and threatening bugaboo with new digital formats is the mere storage of the pictures themselves. A 3-by-5 black and white photograph in a shoe box was forever unless your house burned down. But, something so simple and rational and permanent is not currently available. Now, in the course of a few years we have gone from storage on floppy discs to compact discs to flash drives and portable hard drives. Others use uploading to online storage, provided by companies that may not exist in two years, as their solution to the permanence issue. Only those who continually ride the crest of the current wave and convert their files from one form to another will be able to keep their photographs forever, if there is such a thing. As people age, this hassle becomes more and more of a problem and they simply give up. By the time their heirs discover that they had a treasury of accumulated images, there is no easy way to view them and they go into the dumper when the house is being cleaned out and prepared for sale . Grandma and Grandpa are gone and so are the family pictures.
The wonderful feature of Kodachrome slides was that they lasted for decades if kept in a dark place and away from temperature extremes – a pretty good bet for longevity in the closets of elderly people who had forgotten they were there. To view them, all one needed was some type of bright light, some lenses, and a screen – certainly a technology that will not become totally societially obsolete – we hope. Various types of scanners should always be able to shine some light through them and convert them to digital images if necessary for preservation and/or viewing. To this day, medical experts are using Kodachrome slides as a reference for comparing the colors of people with progressive skin conditions. Well preserved slides as old as fifty years still have exact color renditions that enable one to see how it really was way back then.
Now that Kodachrome, and colored photographic slides in general, are becoming a relic of the past, we need to be aware of the need to establish some permanent archival presentation method for our images. Other color reversal films, such as Ektachrome, are still on the market and well may be there for a few more years. They too capture fabulous images, are much simpler and less expensive to process, and may be around longer, but their days are undoubtedly numbered. And they do not have the same proven archival qualities as Kodachrome.
The outcry over the loss of Kodachrome will do not good. It is gone. The only thing you can do now is to preserve those you have. Keep them in a dark place, relatively cool, and at a low humidity to prevent their emulsions from being digested by mold and other nasty creatures. The challenge will be to establish some type of successful, trend-proof, type of image storage that will keep the current digital images from becoming obsolete as well as offer the Kodachrome aficionados a stable, long-term platform for image preservation. The images the ancients left behind carved or etched in rock were a pretty good method when you consider how long they lasted. Acid rain has taken its toll on them in the past century, but millions remain. Now that Kodachrome is gone, we need to find some new hammers, chisels and more workable stones to preserve our images. If not, a whole epoch of images may disappear from the earth. Our contemporary David might well become just a story about a handsome guy that is passed down from one generation to the next with no real idea of how he really appeared in the flesh. Michelangelo would have really loved Kodachrome and undoubtedly would have been quite upset right now.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The latest news is that after a long period with no visitors showing up in Michigan, Larry and Mariela Taddie of Salt Lake City arrived. They were here from September 23rd through Sept 30th when they drove a rental car to Batavia, New York to visit Larry’s uncle and aunt. They returned on October 9th, turned the rental car in, stayed overnight and then departed by plane for Salt Lake. At 12:30 a.m. that very night, Katya arrived from Salt Lake for a week of fall vacation from the University of Utah. It was a busy evening, night and morning to say the least, but fun was had by all.
It is so special to have friends and family visit you here in Southeast Michigan. Our area is not a magnet for tourists, tends not to be on the major flight paths around the U.S. and is generally an out-of-the-way place. Moreover, the only big city here is Detroit, a place that has turned into an urban nightmare and is now the bad example for everything. The recent Time Magazine cover story did not improve its image. So, we were especially delighted to have Larry and Mariela come here and devote a week to visiting us in our local environs, see how we live, and allow us to take them out and show them around – including the best and the worst of everything. It was as much fun for us as it was for them, just knowing that somebody had shown up at the door and gave us an excuse to get out and do some things that we like.
While they were here we went to the Henry Ford Museum, the Edsel and Eleanor Ford House, Eastern Market, the Fisher Building, Larry’s hometown of Lincoln Park, and other sites. We drove around and examined Detroit in all its splendor and chaos. They went on a long walk down Lakeshore Drive from Grosse Pointe Yacht Club back to our house. And naturally I took them out to see the schools where I taught during my 16-year career in Detroit Public Schools. One night we went to Rick and Margo’s house for dinner and had a good visit with them. It had been years since Larry and Mariela had seen them and during the intervening time, Rick and Margo have raised a family of four children ranging from two to eleven years old.
Packed into the week was a two-day trip by water to Harsen’s Island. It is the delta formed by the St. Clair River as it dumps into Lake St. Clair. This river comes south from Lake Huron bringing with it all the drainage from Lakes Huron, Michigan and Superior. It was a really nice trip with some variable weather, wildly variable sea conditions, and a constant sense of adventure and camaderie. We routinely took Dramamine to prevent sea sickness, ate a lot of good food cooked in the Baltika’s little galley, and saw a lot of open water, wilderness, and the old-world development on Harsen’s Island.
The two lower pictures (shown above) are Harsen's Island as photographed by Larry. The first one is the Old Club at just after the entrance to the South Channel. The one below it is Big Muscamoot Bar, just to the north of Harsen's Island.
Then the weather turned bad for a few days, the period when we saw the sites around Grosse Pointe and Detroit. We were able to get back on the water again Friday, the last day before they left for New York. We did an excursion, both sailing and motoring down the Detroit River. It included the straits between Detroit and Windsor, going under the Ambassador Bridge and the steel mill complex downriver from the bridge. That is where we turned around and headed back up the river for Lake St. Clair and Grosse Pointe.
Katya is now here and we are busy assisting her in getting caught up on home-cooked favorites and some shopping for clothing that she seriously needed to do while here. She and Perry went sailing the first day she was here and she is now using some of her days to get ahead on her studies so she will not be so stressed out when she returns to school. For medical students and people working towards a chemistry degree there are usually no true vacations. We admire her resolution.
The weather is often cool, cloudy and windy. So far we have not had any snow, but temperatures are dropping rapidly, especially at night. We still have the Baltika in the water and are sailing whenever the weather is reasonably good. There is very little competition for space on the lake this time of the year.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
This is a copy of our emails that we sent out during our cruise from Grosse Pointe to the North Channel and then west to Mackinaw City. If you did not get a chance to read it, here it is. If you accidentally deleted it, here it is.
Writing a cruising blog seems to be the stylish thing for those out plying the planet’s waters with a sailboat, so I thought I would try it on all of you. Next will be a DVD of our adventures and it will include cruising tips and recipes for those cooking on the high seas. It will go for only $19.95 unless there are unsold copies left over. Those will be distributed for no charge. Please do not take this offer too seriously, it may be rescinded.
In any case, we are now in the
Nothing went as planned. Instead of going to Goderich the first day, we chose to put in at Bayfield, ten miles short. Again, more motorsailing, huge swells, little wind, and rain squalls. Bayfield: A charming town up on a bluff where we spent July 1st, our wedding anniversary having dinner in a great little restaurant, the Albion Inn – charming beyond belief. Then we moved the next ten miles to Goderich, bucking against huge waves from the NW driven by a nasty, but non-threatening wind. It was the town with a marina next to a huge shipping port where they export salt that is mined as far as two miles out under the lake. It is gorgeous, a town of stately old homes and manicured lawns with a square and courthouse. Then came the storm and a day’s layover. Next was Kincardine, a lovely short motoring experience where we arrived in the afternoon. They were having the Highland Festival and we saw 76 different drum and bagpipe groups play together in sync. The National Bureau of Standards atomic clock in
After an overnight at the town dock there, we headed due north to Killarney, another charming place at the far NW corner of the
Leaving charming Killarney, a town that never had roads to it until a few decades back, was hard. It is one of those places that grows on you in 24 hours.
Suddenly we found ourselves five miles from Killarney in Covered Portage Cove, sitting at anchor in a walled cove with a narrow entrance about 75 feet wide. Walls of rock and pines about 100 – 300 feet surrounded us along with a fleet of gorgeous sailboats at anchor. Luckily, we were there, because the walls gave us protection from a 30 mph wind that blew all day.
In the morning we left and had a great sail – yes, sailing without a motor – to Baie Fine, a few hours north. We entered it, a place that looks like a fjord and takes you in 11 miles to a place called “The Pool.” It is one of the finest, most secluded anchorages around here, consequently a place that everyone goes too and frequently makes it crowded. So much for exclusive. Luckily, there were only six other boats, including that of the folks that we followed north in the fog.
Leaving The Pool and Baie Fine, we motored out against a west wind, headed SW towards
It is becoming a world onto itself with two places to sit in the cabin, a cockpit for a patio, and horizon that goes on forever for a yard. A good Laundromat in a marina is suddenly far more precious than having your own washer and dryer in the basement. Food is good everywhere, but we now walk to the grocery story, however far it is and sometimes they deliver to the dock. Nothing on land seems to stand still any more and you fall over when you get up out of your chair in a restaurant to go to the bathroom. Dramamine and our usual prescription meds are a part of our diet – so far no seasickness because of preventative doses on bad days. Today an older couple pulled in and tied up next to us in Little Current. We had met them in
July 16, 2009
It is time to write because we have live internet here in
Speaking of Kagawong: It is a village with almost nothing except a restaurant, a fire department and a nice little marina. The original marina building used to have steam ships tie up to it and unload wheat for the flour mill that supplied
The trip from Little Current to Kagawong was to buy Marilynn a new “Kagawong” shirt – the old one from 1994 is badly worn. And, of course, see Kagawong again. We left Little Current after lunch, having already had a rain in the morning that did not amount to much. A few cells were still coming, but there was no extreme wind forecast, in fact light winds. We sailed west at about five knots with a nice southerly breeze and overcast skies. Then things began to pick up suddenly. We rolled in the jib and turned on the engine because the wind shifted to the west, right where we were going. Then it increased to about 30 mph and rain started falling – not heavy rain, but sideways rain. Visibility was zero to a few hundred yards and the whole place became a maritime washing machine. Idling back to keep the boat from slamming, we continued to move ahead about 3 mph, but had to go off course and quarter into the oncoming 4-foot waves. Marilynn had gone down into the cabin and put on her full suit of foul weather gear and storm hat from
The problem with all of this is that the marina in Kagawong no longer sells shirts. Well, we tried.
We were planning to head north today and go anchor out in the
July 21, 2009
We ended up staying in
A couple of days ago, with the first of the improved weather, we moved northwest to Long Point Cove, the furthest east that we made it on last year’s trip. It was lovely to pull in there and anchor again and we met some guys from Grosse Pointe, always a bit of a kick when you are far from home.
Today, Tuesday, we moved west to
Special notes: The morning we left
July 25, 2009. A few days back we left
The marina in Thessalon has been upgraded by grants from the
On the four-hour journey to Thessalon, many things crossed my mind, and one of them was “What is the
The last, recent event of geological importance was the great Laurentian Glacier. It moved from the north to the south, extending down to as far as the
Navigation in the
Another quirk of this area is its magnetism. Your compass always points about nine degrees west of true geographic north, average for this area, so if you are referring to a course given in geographic numbers, you must add ten degrees. That is fairly easy to remember. The real problem is that this deviation (declination) is not always nine degrees. It can vary wildly due to underground iron deposits – recall that Northern Michigan,
Back to the story of the trip: We left Thessalon a couple days ago and moved south to Detour,
Upon arriving in Detour, we called in to U.S. Customs to report our arrival. We now have I-68 forms, a special permit for boaters that allows us to come back to the
Today, the 25th, we left Detour and went west to
August 3, 2009. We are now home in Grosse Pointe. The remainder of the trip, down to
Coming from the north through this passage makes you aware of how enormous the
After about ten more minutes the Mackinac Island scenery is behind you and
Now our little personal story about crossing the strait to
Back in the early nineties, a young lady crossing the strait did not do so well. She drove her Yugo across the bridge on a very windy day – one of those days with gusts up to 50 mph when the flashing sign reads “High Wind Warning – Do Not Exceed 30 MPH.” Nobody knows exactly how fast she was moving in the Yugo, but the lightly constructed little Yugoslavian car was blown sideways and out of control. It hit the guard rails, fairly substantial ones, and flipped over them like the empty little can it was and freely fell 200 feet to the water and then plunged down the remaining 200-feet-plus to the bottom. The lady, the Yugo, and the nation of
Lisa came up to fetch us on Saturday and after doing some shopping in
Arriving home was a great experience in itself. Everything was perfect. Katya had mowed and edged the lawn and her diligent watering had produced a fabulous crop of red, ripe tomatoes. The house was immaculately clean and the dogs had even had a little haircut to keep them trimmed and neat. After having spent exactly 35 days living, eating and sleeping in the boat, I was almost shocked to see how many possessions we have here at home. Everything jumped out at me – vehicles, lawnmower, power tools, dishwasher, a refrigerator with an icemaker, manicured lawns, and above all, a huge bed that does not sway beneath me while I lie in it. All of this is nice to have, but a bed that does not softly move around a bit in the night is pretty hard to take. It will soon be time again to go down to the sea and the ships.
Perry Munson, Marilynn Fairfax and The Baltika