What happens when you shoot with a dirty camera.
Copyright © 2017
by Ralph F. Couey
At the end of May of last year, Cheryl and I undertook what was the most difficult hike we (or I) have ever done. We drove out to the western part of Virginia to the Cedar Run Trail. This was a humdinger, when combined with the return loop through White Oak Canyon, it was over eight miles, 2,400 feet up and 2,400 feet down on a hot and humid day. Why, you ask, would we do this? Well, we wanted to do a waterfall hike, and Cedar Run, which tumbles down that long hill between the two trails, was full of them. It was pretty, but a tough climb up, and then an even tougher descent, because the spray from the stream had slicked up the clay surface of the trail. It was like hiking on ice. Anyway, at the bottom of the return loop, we had to ford Cedar Run twice. It was, at this point, a pretty sedate stretch of water. I started crossing on the rocks, but they were wobbly, and at 62 years old, my balance isn't near what it used to be. Exhausted and impatient, I decided just to wade across. After all, my boots were waterproof. But the subsurface was slick with moss and algae, so of course, I went down. With great energy. The water was very cool, which felt really great on a hot day, but I had neglected to put my new $400 Sony digital SLR camera back in it's case. So, it got wet.
Upon arriving home after a 90-minute drive, I stuck camera and lens in a bag of rice. Now, opinions are divided on the efficacy of this method, but after four days, I extracted the camera, dusted it off and holding my breath, switched it on. To my intense relief, it fired right up. All the functions worked just fine. So take that, Internet.
However, in the ensuing months, I began to notice smudges appearing on my pictures. Over time, they got pretty ugly. Eventually, I replaced the lens, which took care of most of the problem, but some of the smudges remained. I learned that playing with the aperture and focal length, I could minimize their appearance, but, as you can see by the dusk photo of Catalina Harbor above, sometimes conditions prevented such manipulation. I finally faced up to the fact that there was mold growing on the sensor.
Digital cameras make it possible to do amazing things, and you can take thousands of images without the cost of buying and developing film. Also, because they're digital, they remain just as clear, colorful, and sharp years later as the day the images were captured. But being digital, that means that sometimes things can be fixed, and sometimes they can't.
I resisted for a long time taking the camera into the shop because, (1) Opinions were split among my photographic acquaintances as to whether the sensor could be completely cleaned, and (2) repairs of anything digital tend to be quite expensive. What I wanted to avoid at all costs was meeting with the Couey, Inc. LLC CFO, (otherwise known as my wife) and requesting a capital outlay sufficient to fund a new camera. Such a meeting would be unpleasant, especially since she clearly remembers telling me to put the camera back into the water-and-shock-proof case before crossing the stream.
But after viewing my pictures from Catalina Island, and my hiking forays into the San Gabriel Mountains, I bit the bullet, found a repair shop nearby, and took it in. Howell Camera Shop on Badilla in Covina, California was easy to find, and upon entering, I talked to the professional camera shop guy, showing him one of my pictures and pointing out the problem. He didn't seem daunted by the prospect, although he cautioned me that it may not clean all the way up. Plus the price was quite reasonable, well below three figures.
Over the next few days, I used my phone to take pictures. Now, the Note 4, like so many of it's smart phone colleagues, is an amazing instrument. The camera is really quite good, certainly better than my first generation digital camera from...a long time ago. But there are things you can do with an SLR that you just can't do with a phone, so I was anxious as I waited out the verdict.
After a very busy Thanksgiving weekend, I returned to the shop. Handing over my receipt, he went to the back and returned with my camera. Wearing a proud smile. As it turns out, his tech was able to clean all the dirt and mold off the sensor, and as he demonstrated with some test shots, the image was sharp and, most importantly, spotlessly clear.
I am very relieved, and looking forward to returning to the trails with my camera. I've learned two things out of this adventure. Never underestimate a good camera shop, and never take an expensive digital SLR for a swim.
Upon arriving home after a 90-minute drive, I stuck camera and lens in a bag of rice. Now, opinions are divided on the efficacy of this method, but after four days, I extracted the camera, dusted it off and holding my breath, switched it on. To my intense relief, it fired right up. All the functions worked just fine. So take that, Internet.
However, in the ensuing months, I began to notice smudges appearing on my pictures. Over time, they got pretty ugly. Eventually, I replaced the lens, which took care of most of the problem, but some of the smudges remained. I learned that playing with the aperture and focal length, I could minimize their appearance, but, as you can see by the dusk photo of Catalina Harbor above, sometimes conditions prevented such manipulation. I finally faced up to the fact that there was mold growing on the sensor.
Digital cameras make it possible to do amazing things, and you can take thousands of images without the cost of buying and developing film. Also, because they're digital, they remain just as clear, colorful, and sharp years later as the day the images were captured. But being digital, that means that sometimes things can be fixed, and sometimes they can't.
I resisted for a long time taking the camera into the shop because, (1) Opinions were split among my photographic acquaintances as to whether the sensor could be completely cleaned, and (2) repairs of anything digital tend to be quite expensive. What I wanted to avoid at all costs was meeting with the Couey, Inc. LLC CFO, (otherwise known as my wife) and requesting a capital outlay sufficient to fund a new camera. Such a meeting would be unpleasant, especially since she clearly remembers telling me to put the camera back into the water-and-shock-proof case before crossing the stream.
But after viewing my pictures from Catalina Island, and my hiking forays into the San Gabriel Mountains, I bit the bullet, found a repair shop nearby, and took it in. Howell Camera Shop on Badilla in Covina, California was easy to find, and upon entering, I talked to the professional camera shop guy, showing him one of my pictures and pointing out the problem. He didn't seem daunted by the prospect, although he cautioned me that it may not clean all the way up. Plus the price was quite reasonable, well below three figures.
Over the next few days, I used my phone to take pictures. Now, the Note 4, like so many of it's smart phone colleagues, is an amazing instrument. The camera is really quite good, certainly better than my first generation digital camera from...a long time ago. But there are things you can do with an SLR that you just can't do with a phone, so I was anxious as I waited out the verdict.
After a very busy Thanksgiving weekend, I returned to the shop. Handing over my receipt, he went to the back and returned with my camera. Wearing a proud smile. As it turns out, his tech was able to clean all the dirt and mold off the sensor, and as he demonstrated with some test shots, the image was sharp and, most importantly, spotlessly clear.
I am very relieved, and looking forward to returning to the trails with my camera. I've learned two things out of this adventure. Never underestimate a good camera shop, and never take an expensive digital SLR for a swim.
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