USS Cod Submarine Memorial

Although I spent four years at Ohio University in Athens, OH, I somehow never made it all the way up to Cleveland. I love a good museum ship, and I’ve been on a mission since 2021 to collect signatures from the museum curators of ships which have YouTube channels like the USS New Jersey, the Buffalo Naval Park, etc. So when I found out that I needed to be in-office for a work event and saw Cleveland listed as an option, I decided to make an overnight trip of it and get another curator’s signature on my USS New Jersey hat.

The USS Cod Submarine Memorial, located on the shores of downtown Cleveland, is a Gato-class submarine built during WWII that has called the city home since 1959. Commissioned in June 1943 and struck from the naval register in December 1971, the USS Cod saw a long career during which she attacked Japanese shipping during WWII, rescued the crew of a stranded Dutch submarine, and served as a naval training vessel for reservists. She opened as a museum ship in 1976 and is frankly one of the best-preserved and staged ships I’ve visited.

It was a cold and damp February day when I visited the submarine, and a thin sheet of ice on Lake Erie encased the USS Cod. I met up with Paul Farace, Director of the USS Cod Submarine Memorial, who told me a bit about the boat’s history before we climbed aboard. Paul has been with the boat since the beginning, which puts him in a unique position of retelling the stories he’s obtained from first-hand accounts of Cod’s crew. I spent about 4 hours with Paul as we toured the submarine, though I feel like I could’ve easily spent twice that amount of time listening to all the stories Paul has to tell.

Climbing aboard, our first stop was to take a look at Cod’s 5-inch/25-caliber deck gun. The role of submarines post-WWII saw them spending more time submerged than on the surface, and deck guns like the 5-inch/25-caliber became obsolete. Cod’s deck gun is not original to the submarine - luckily the memorial was able to salvage one after she became a museum ship, returning her to the configuration which fits her period of interpretation (early 1950s). The deck gun would be used to attack targets not worth the expenditure of a torpedo, like the ubiquitous Japanese junks of WWII. Some ready-service ammunition for the deck guns would be stored in watertight compartments outside the pressure hull, but the main ammunition stores existed in a compartment below the crew’s mess. In situations where sustained fire was necessary, or to replenish the ready-service ammunition on deck, a scuttle in the overhead allowed the crew to pass shells up through the pressure hull. Cod used her deck guns to sink 26 junks during the war. This achievement is represented by the sampan stenciled on her mast - the martini glass represents the sailors of the Dutch submarine O-19 which the Cod’s crew rescued in July 1945.

Walking along the deck, you pass over some notable features including concave damage to the deck plates sustained from depth charge attacks and evidence of a glancing blow left by enemy gunfire. I might’ve otherwise missed those details if it weren’t for Paul and the USS Cod’s YouTube channel - they cover the “hidden history” of the ship which you wouldn’t notice upon first glance. For example, hiding below the submarine’s deck is a cradle that was intended to hold a liberty launch during peacetime operations. It would be used to ferry crew between the submarine and shore when it was impractical to bring the entire boat into port. While the liberty launch was removed for wartime service and USS Cod never carried one, the cradle was left in place.

One thing you don’t necessarily realize about these submarines is just how much infrastructure is wedged between the pressure hull and deck. If you take a look to the right of the forward escape trunk below-deck, you can catch a glimpse of the bottles which stored compressed air for the 21-inch torpedo tubes.


Life Aboard The USS Cod

One of the coolest features of the USS Cod isn’t something it has, but rather what it lacks - museum-era modification to make the submarine more “visitor friendly” and accessible. Going below decks is accomplished by climbing through the forward and aft torpedo room escape trunks, just like a submariner would’ve when the USS Cod was in service. The ladders are steep and a bit awkward to use, but it’s a unique experience I’ve never had aboard any other museum ship.

Climbing down the escape trunk deposits you in the forward torpedo room. Here you’ll find berthing spaces for the crew and the submarine’s most powerful weapon, the Mark 14 torpedo. My favorite the thing about the USS Cod is how the museum has done such an amazing job filling the space with artifacts and “signs of life” from the Cod’s crew. Period-correct plates and silverware are set out in the crews’ mess, laundry is hung out to dry in the engine room, drinking glasses sit perched in holders next to sinks, and an apron hangs off a mixer in the galley. It almost feels as if the crew dropped what they were doing in 1950 and went ashore just before you boarded.

As we stood outside the galley, Paul recalled a story involving the submarine’s cook during WWII. George Sacco was a baker from Brooklyn who’d never used a commercial mixer before. The brand-new mixer in Cod’s galley worked fine for awhile but started having problems while the submarine was underway. It turned out the crew had forgot to pack the mixer’s brand-new bearings with grease, causing it to seize up. Luckily it worked just fine after greasing the bearings - it worked so well, in fact, that George quickly ran out of space in the bread locker for all the baked goods he was able to churn out of Cod’s galley. Bread lockers (like the one located beneath a bench seat in the crews’ mess) were used to cool and store bread baked aboard the submarine. The crew eventually built an auxiliary bread locker to keep up with the steady stream of backed goods that George made, which can be seen to your left as you walk through the crews’ mess.


Propulsion, Weapons, and Hidden History

Heading back aft takes you past the officers quarters, through the main berthing compartment, and to the control room where the boat was helmed. An off-tour route stop I made with Paul was the conning tower, situated above the control room. Here you could access the bridge through a hatch in the overhead, peer through the two periscopes, and steer the submarine. Somehow there could be 12 men packed into that tiny space during torpedo actions, steering the ship and calculating courses to attack enemy ships. Both of Cod’s periscopes work, and so does her torpedo data computer.

At the heart of the submarine are 4x V16 diesel engines (built in Cleveland) which generate the horsepower needed to drive the electric motors responsible for propelling the ship when surfaced and for charging the submarine’s 252 lead-acid batteries to be used when submerged. What’s remarkable is that the diesel engines are still operational, like many systems aboard USS Cod. Key components of the propulsion system like the lead-acid batteries and propellers have been removed though, so it won’t be possible to take the submarine out for a pleasure cruise on Lake Erie anytime soon.

Further aft is the maneuvering room where electricians control the power output of the diesel engines, using it to charge batteries or turn the USS Cod’s two propellers. A set of oversized control arms allow engineers to control power input and output, and an engine order telegraph allows the maneuvering room to acknowledge orders from the bridge.

Having watched USS Cod’s YouTube series covering the “hidden history” aboard the submarine, part of my mission was to locate the various items talked about in their videos. I’d already recognized some of them when I went aboard the USS Torsk in Baltimore over the summer. I found the signal flare ejectors (one in aft torpedo room, the other in the control room), the emergency ration boxes located in each compartment, and the crew’s 1941 Sears & Roebuck ironing board.

So far I’ve collected Ryan’s autograph from the Battleship New Jersey, Drachinifel, and Paul’s autograph from the USS Cod. I think my next stop will be the Buffalo Naval Park so I can get Shane’s autograph on my hat - stay tuned for a future update!

The Herschell Carousel Company

I’d already ridden six Herschell carousels by the time I heard about the Herschell Carousel Factory Museum. I was working on another project about The E-J Shoe Company, a driving force behind the communities of Endicott and Johnson City in Upstate New York, when I stumbled headfirst into the world of antique carousels. E-J’s namesake George Johnson and family donated Herschell carousels in the Binghamton, NY area and made them free to ride in perpetuity. George Johnson wanted to be sure that no child would be denied the joys of a carousel ride for lack of money like he was in his youth. While taking a spin on one of those six carousels at West Endicott Park, I noticed a hand-painted motif on the carousel that read “Allan Herschell Co. Inc. Builders, N. Tonawanda, N.Y. U.S.A.” A quick Google search led me to the museum, and I knew I had to make a detour to North Tonawanda, NY (near Buffalo) to see where Binghamton’s carousels got their start.

The Herschell name has been associated with many different manufacturers over the years, starting in 1873 with the Armitage Herschell Company. The Buffalo area was a nexus of manufacturing in the early 1900s and the Allan Herschell Company would eventually grow to produce a wide variety of amusement rides including classics like the carousel, miniature trains, and kiddie coasters.


The Herschell Carousel Factory

The story begins with Allan Herschell, an entrepreneur who founded multiple iterations of the Herschell company throughout his lifetime. Around 1880, while on a trip to New York City, Herschell saw a magnificent new amusement ride dubbed the “Riding Gallery”. And what powered this new contraption? A steam engine! As luck would have it, Herschell was already manufacturing steam engines and gears in North Tonawanda. He sensed a business opportunity and returned to North Tonawanda to found the first of his carousel manufacturing ventures.

The Herschell Carousel Factory Museum, which occupies the Herschell Spillman Company’s 1916 factory, offers a glimpse into both the history of Herschell carousels and the manufacturing process used by the Herschell company. The North Tonawanda factory allowed the company to manufacture all components of its carousels in-house: the basswood or poplar animals were crafted by artisans on the carving floor, finished in the paint shop, and shipped out for final assembly via the Lockport Branch of the New York Central Railroad that once ran behind the factory. Allan Herschell also branched out into the internal combustion engine business, producing engines for automotive and aerospace manufacturers like Curtiss and Pierce-Arrow. Those engines were built at the Herschell-Spillman Motor Company Complex, a more modern factory that was recently covered into factory loft apartments and is also on the National Register of Historic Places.

The Wurlitzer Company, manufacturer of the large band organs which often accompanied carousel rides, had its manufacturing plant not far from the Herschell factory. Wurlitzer produced band organs through the North Tonawanda Barrel Organ Factory until 1939 and closed their North Tonawanda plant in 1973. A collection of master music rolls and other Wurlitzer relics are now on display at the museum. A fun note about the master music rolls - the Wurlitzer system works on a vacuum where punches on a paper music roll allow air to pass through and actuate instruments like drums or bells within the organ. Each master roll was punched by hand and a machine was used to create copies for distribution. The museum still produces copies from their master music rolls on request, which helps preserve historic music while allowing carousel organ enthusiasts to obtain the rolls needed to keep their organs running.

Inside the museum you’ll find an interesting collection of carousels, amusement rides, and band organs which are all restored and operational. The museum owns and operates two carousels: a portable kiddie carousel and a 1916-vintage No. 1 Carousel. Museum staff were happy to demonstrate the organs when I asked about how exactly they worked.

One highlight of the museum is a restored 1916 carousel, and museum admission gets you a few tokens for rides. There were a few things I noticed about the antique 1916 carousel which set it apart from more modern carousels I’ve ridden: for one, the hand-carved horses seem to have more life to them than their modern fiberglass cousins. I also liked the more friendly posture of the horses’ upturned ears, making them look like they’re just happy to be hanging around the carousel. Unfortunately the upturned ear design was abandoned early on because they were grabbed by riders and frequently broken off. There is also a “lovers tub” on the 1916 carousel which allows the rider to spin the tub around “spinning teacups” style. I wish more carousels had interactive features like brass rings or the “lovers tub” - it’d make them more fun to ride. I imagine the brass rings disappeared for insurance reasons.

The Herschell Carousel Company pioneered the iconic “Country Fair” style of horse, which forgoes saddles completely in favor of a more cartoon-style look. Horses were carved from blocks of basswood, chosen because the wood is easy to carve but lightweight and strong. The old paint shop has been converted to house the museum’s historical menagerie collection, which showcases animals ranging from ostriches to dogs. If you’re looking for a fun day trip - especially if you have young kids who can ride the “Kiddie Land Test Park” rides outside - then the Herschell Carousel Factory Museum is worth a stop!

KDKA 1020 AM's Saxonburg Transmitter

A special pre-recorded KDKA program from June 1956 at the Saxonburg Museum in Saxonburg, PA.

History was made on the evening of November 2, 1920 when KDKA, the USA’s first commercially licensed radio broadcaster, informed Pennsylvanians that Warren G. Harding had won the election over James M. Cox of Ohio to become the 29th President of the United States. Home to the Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company, Pittsburgh was a prime location for the first commercial radio broadcast. Westinghouse was quick to capitalize on the “Special Amateur” grant the company was given during WWI, which it used to conduct experiments during wartime when other radio stations in the US were ordered off the air.

Seeing regular radio broadcasts as a way to incentivize the public into purchasing Westinghouse radios, executives at the company sensed an opportunity to bring entertainment to the masses. Westinghouse had already constructed a transmitter atop the K Building at their Pittsburgh factory to conduct radiotelephone operations with other Westinghouse offices. The array was part of a scheme to avoid those pesky Western Union telegraph charges, sending spoken word transmissions over the airwaves for free. It was also the perfect set of equipment to repurpose for that first broadcast on November 2, 1920.

That first 100 watt transmitter atop K Building was only the beginning for KDKA. Through the miracle of vacuum tubes and Westinghouse engineering, KDKA would eventually broadcast at a power level north of 300 kilowatts (kW) from nearby Saxonburg, PA. Normal operations hovered between 50 and 80 kW of broadcasting power, but from 1-6 AM each night KDKA joined the likes of Cincinnati’s WLW (who broadcast at a ludicrous 500 kW) in experimenting with high-power broadcasting. You could probably pick up the KDKA broadcast from your nearest chain-link fence when the Saxonburg transmitter was pumping out the full 400 kW it was capable of - similar phenomenon was often reported by those who lived near such high-power transmitters.

While I’ve been meaning to organize a deeper dive into the history of broadcast radio, this wasn’t a blog post I had planned for 2023. Sometimes a great bit of local history just falls into your lap, which is what happened when I made a stop at the Saxonburg Museum. I planned a pitstop in Saxonburg on my way to Pittsburgh, PA because the museum maintains John Roebling’s original workshop, an artifact relevant to a project I’m working on about the remnants of the Roebling Steel. The museum’s expansive collection spans far beyond John Roebling’s contributions to Saxonburg, and a 1.5 hour stop quickly turned into 3.5 hours. Tours are by appointment only, so call ahead!

Within the museum is a stunning collection of local artifacts, including a section dedicated to the radio station KDKA. The focal point of the KDKA display is the “Dog House”, a small shack whose namesake comes from its 3/4-size door. The original structure stood at the base of KDKA’s Saxonburg transmitter and housed the massive “Spider Coil” pictured above. The coil is built from 83 feet of thick copper tubing, which was used to tune the signal of the station and reject background noise from the broadcast.

Some evidence of KDKA’s past in Saxonburg is still visible at the factory complex of Coherent Technologies, a modern-day manufacturer of electronics and communication equipment. A concrete pier from the days when a 718 foot tall broadcasting tower loomed over the site can still be seen on the property, left behind when the tower was relocated. Additionally, the brick transmission building constructed in the 1930s has been absorbed into Coherent’s factory and is still visible from the exterior.

After taking in some of the history behind KDKA on Saturday at the museum, I started my Sunday off by hunting down the site where the Saxonburg transmitter was relocated to. A short drive landed me at KDKA’s present-day Allison Park transmission station. The 1939-vintage New England Colonial style transmission building straddles KDKA Drive and still houses the original 50 kW Westinghouse transmitter that was relocated from Saxonburg. KDKA relocated its broadcasting arrays to Allison Park, PA to improve their coverage of Downtown Pittsburgh around 1940.  KDKA’s shortwave transmitter was left behind in Saxonburg, and the land was eventually deeded to Carnegie Mellon University. An atom smasher was later brought to the site in Saxonburg and used by the university to conduct experiments through the 1970s.

Current KDKA transmission building built in 1939 to locate the KDKA transmitter closer to Downtown Pittsburgh.

Nikon Z 24mm f/1.7 DX Review

It was a chilly summer night in New Hampshire and I was sitting at the dining room table of the family cabin, typing up a blog post about the Abenaki Indian Shop & Camp in Conway, NH. I think it was around 2 AM when I heard the signature ding of new email hitting my inbox - Nikon had just released the Z 24mm f/1.7 DX lens I’d been dreaming about ever since it showed up on Nikon’s lens roadmap! Practically sight-unseen, I threw the lens in my cart for pre-ordered. I own a bunch of specialized Nikon lenses like the F-mount 19mm PC-E and 8-15mm fisheye, but I’d never been so excited for a new lens like I was for this Z-mount DX lens.

I started shooting in 2015 with a D5500, making the jump to a D810 in 2021. Nikon has always semi-neglected their DX lens lineup, but the fantastic Nikon F 35mm f/1.8 DX lens was my first foray into the world of sub-f/2.8 prime lenses. That lens opened me up to a whole new world of bokeh and depth-of-field in 2015, and I’ve been waiting for Nikon to drop a Z DX equivalent since I picked up a z50. I’ve spent a good amount of time shooting with this lens since it arrived in August 2023, and I’m finally ready to share my thoughts on this lens.

So why choose this lens over the Z 28mm or 40mm f/2.8 lenses Nikon offers? There are a few advantages inherent to this lens for those of us who sport a Z DX camera like the z50:

  • Advantages of a DX-Only Lens - Because a DX sensor is physically smaller than that of a FF sensor, Nikon engineers can reduce costs by designing a lens that throws a smaller image circle than its equivalent FF counterpart. For the same price as the Z 40mm f/2 lens, you get a faster aperture, 35mm equivalent field of view (FoV), and all in a lighter package. If I could only take one prime lens with me, I’d rather have a 35mm FoV than a more restrictive 60mm FoV.

  • Portability - Compared to the excellent Z 16-50mm f/3.5-6.3 DX, this lens is marginally larger with the (somewhat unique) hood attached. I use a MegaGear neoprene case when traveling without a camera bag, and I can still cram the z50 + lens + hood into it when I’m trying to minimize the gear I take with me.

  • Fast Aperture - While I almost never shoot wide-open, the f/1.7 aperture of this lens offers just a bit more light-gathering capability when you need it most. Who knows what’s in store for future Z DX cameras, but for now we need all the light we can get to compensate for lack of IBIS.

  • Filter Thread Size - This lens shares the same 46mm thread as the Z 16-50mm f/3.5-6.3 DX, so no need for adapter rings or new filters if you’ve already invested in them. This won’t be helpful if you own any of the other 3 Z DX lenses out there, which all use bigger filters. But this was a bonus for me, as I have no use for all-in-one zooms or telephoto lenses.

All images shot on a Nikon z50 + 24mm f/1.7 DX | ISO 100, f/8, 1/640

How does it handle in the field? To find out, I made the drive over to St. Gaudens National Historic Park on the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. The weather was awful - overcast, periodic showers, and excessively humid. I was hoping to get a mix of architectural shots, close-ups of flowers and the like, and some low-light shooting opportunities to find out what the lens could do. The Historical Park was established in 1965 to preserve the studio and home of Augustus Saint-Gaudens, who sculpted numerous important monuments during his career. Notable works include the statue of Abraham Lincoln that stands in Chicago and the Sherman Monument in NYC.

From an ergonomics perspective, this lens handles well when attached to the z50 and makes for a well-balanced package. The focusing ring is right where you’d expect it to be, which alleviates my chief complaint about the inconvenient placement of the focusing ring on the Z 16-50mm f/3.5-6.3 DX. The lens hood, while certainly odd, does its job well and protects the front element while reducing flaring. I’ll be leaving the hood attached at all times as I do with the Z 16-50mm f/3.5-6.3 DX.

ISO 100, f/8, 1/400

Chromatic aberration is well controlled, and any fringing I found was easily correctable in Lightroom. Focusing was fast and accurate, just like I expected. Part of my excitement about this lens was that it provided a reasonably-priced Nikon equivalent to the Fujifilm X100V, which seemed like the perfect portable camera for those trips where I don’t want to lug the D850 with me. I bought (and sold) an RX100V because I just couldn’t make the Sony RAW files I was getting from the camera work in Lightroom, so having a fast ~35mm FoV equivalent lens that works with a camera I already own is a huge plus. Shooting exclusively with a prime lens like this forces you to zoom with your feet and think about composition more than you would with a zoom lens, which makes this the perfect lens to carry around and practice your photography without a particular subject in mind.

When it comes to close-ups, this lens does a great job with close focus and blowing out the background at large apertures. I’d say the focal length is a little too wide for portraiture, but it worked just fine for the flowers that were blooming at St. Gaudens. The only real complaint I have so far about this lens is the vignetting. Chromatic aberrations are almost non-existent compared to the F-mount 35mm f/1.8 DX, but the vignetting on this lens bothers me more than its F-mount cousin did. To summarize, I’d recommend this lens for a number of reasons to all Z DX camera owners: it’s reasonably priced, a versatile focal length, and fun to shoot with. The F-mount 35mm f/1.8 DX really sold me on photography back when I started - seeing the bokeh, depth-of-field control, and light-gathering capabilities a wide prime lens could offer. So whether you’re looking for a reasonably priced lens to add fun to your shooting or for a faster aperture to help in low light situations, I don’t think you can go wrong with the Z 24mm f/1.7 DX.

ISO 100, f/2.8, 1/1250

Fuji Instax Meets 4x5 | The Lomograflok Instant Back

Fujifilm’s line of instant film, known as Instax, is all the rage these days. Introduced in 1998, Instax film stuck around while Polaroid died a slow death beginning in the early 2000s. And in an age of digital photography and camera sensors which can resolve an insane amount of detail, there’s still a certain thrill that comes along with watching a color print develop right before your eyes.

Some exciting things are happening in the world of film, from Pentax announcing the development of a new film camera to Fujifilm investing millions towards new film production at their factories outside Tokyo, Japan. Fuji even released my favorite 100 ISO black and white film, Across 100, in 120 format within recent years. Now if only they’d release it in 4x5…

Now instant film is fun and all, but the current line of Instax cameras just can’t satisfy my obsessiveness over controlling every aspect of the image-making process. Instax cameras are geared towards the casual photographer, and most models offer only the most basic exposure controls. But what if you want to push the film to the max with camera movements, varying depth of field, or off-camera flash? Clearly somebody else at Lomography had the same idea because they created this nifty attachment called the Lomograflok. If you happen to have a 4x5 camera laying around with Graflok tabs then you’re in luck!

Through the magic of the Graflok attachment system, you can easily shoot Instax images using your large format camera. Simply add a pack of Instax Wide film, throw in some AA batteries, and you’re on your way to instant color prints. Just don’t forget to bring a dark cloth with you like I did… you’ll still need it!


Sample Instax Images

NIkon 150mm @ f/32, 1/250 sec.

I’ll preface this review by saying that if you’re after absolute image quality, Instax will leave you disappointed. You won’t be blowing up an Instax shot to 200% in Lightroom to check for critical sharpness, and the prints are actually quite frustrating to scan/edit. Instax film resolves 10 lines/mm at best - for reference, Kodak T-Max 400 can resolve 10x the detail in B&W. Shooting Instax on 4x5 is just a fun, fast way to get a color image in the field. The images I took looked nothing like the advertising images you’ll see on Fuji’s website.

If you put technical details aside and focus on the fun then I’d say the Lomograflok back is a worthwhile purchase. Shooting Instax isn’t much more expensive than shooting 4x5 film at about $1 per exposure. As an added bonus, there’s no need to send any color film off for development if you’re like me and don’t shoot enough C41 or E6 to justify keeping color chemistry on-hand. You also avoid the tragedy of the USPS losing your exposed 4x5 Ektachrome in the mail… ask me how I know what that feels like.

The Lomograflok itself is a neat little device, and I feel the build quality matches the $175 price tag. To start making prints, you first compose your image using the ground glass and a special mask that’s provided with the Lomograflok back. The final image only takes up a portion of the 4x5 ground glass, and the mask also helps align your point of focus to the Lomograflok’s recessed film plane. Instax film comes in three sizes: Mini, Square, and Wide. The Lomograflok back uses Instax Wide film with an ISO of 800 that produces a picture of 4.3 in. × 3.4 in. in size.

Once you’ve squared away the composition and focus, you’re ready to install the Lomograflok back on the camera. Remove the ground glass and attach the Lomograflok with the locking tabs of the Graflok system, making sure the locking tabs are fully engaged. Next, open the back of the Lomograflok and pop an Instax cartridge in. Just like you would with a typical film holder, you’ll set the lens aperture/shutter speed, remove the dark slide, and make an exposure. Pressing the eject button spits out your image as small rollers in the back squeeze out development chemicals over the film. Within 90 seconds you’ll be able to see the results of your work!

Every pack of film gives you 10 exposures, which I found was just the right amount for a weekend of shooting. You’ll also need 4x AA batteries, and my Enloop rechargeables lasted me both packs of film I had on hand.

So what have I learned over my first 2 packs of Instax Wide film shot with the Lomograflok? Here’s some struggles I faced and tips I learned along the way:

  • Out of my first 10 shots, I had 6 successful images. I lost two by reason of over exposure, one to poor framing, and another to poor composition (completely my fault). Incident metering with my Sekonic L-508 seemed to produce more consistent results than reflective metering.

    • While Instax film is rated ISO 800, I recommend underexposing about 1/3 of a stop to protect highlight details. Crushed shadows look better than blown highlights with this film. It’s incredibly easy to end up with a completely white sky if you aren’t careful.

  • While Instax film develops in 90 seconds, I found it takes another few minutes for blacks to fully develop. Contrast vastly improves with time.

  • The high ISO of Instax film poses significant challenges with the comparatively slow shutter speeds that large format Copal shutters are capable of. Copal 0 shutters are capable of 1/500 sec. speeds while Copal 1s max out at 1/125 sec. The image of a sign post you see above was actually overexposed at 1/125 sec. and f/64, but that’s the best I could do without an ND filter. My Nikon 270mm f/5.6 just ran out of shutter speed and aperture to cut out the bright sunlight. Luckily the film is so low-resolution that diffraction really isn’t noticeable.

  • Be extremely careful with close subjects and leave a little room for unintentional cropping around your subject. The shot I lost to poor framing which looked right on the ground glass but was cropped tighter than intended.

Hopefully some of the information above and sample images here have helped you decide whether the Lomograflok is for you. The limitation of ISO 800 speed film, narrow dynamic range, and relatively slow shutter speeds inherent to large format is really the only thing that makes me second-guess the Lomograflok. Looking past the technical aspect, I think the fun of shooting Instax outweighs the technical difficulties of adapting it to a format for which it was never intended.

NIkon 270mm @ f/36, 1/125 sec.

Abenaki Indian Shop & Camp

Abenaki Indian Shop (circa 1900) as a Conway Scenic Railroad train heads toward Conway, NH.

Nestled in the woods next to the former Intervale, NH train station is the Abenaki Indian Shop and Camp. Preserved in 1989 and added to the National Register of Historic Places, the site is significant to both the history of the Abenaki people and the tourism that built the White Mountains region. Joseph Laurent, chief of the Abenaki and an entrepreneur, established the store and camp in 1884 to bring his people back to the region and generate income for the Abenaki tribe. Traditionally ranging from Maine to Vermont, the Abenaki were pushed northward to the current-day Odanak reservation in Quebec, Canada starting around 1660. Chief Laurent returned to the Intervale area and hashed out a mutually beneficial deal with a local hotelier, leasing land and drawing tourists to the area who would purchase ash-split baskets and other handicraft made by the Abenaki craftsmen who lived there seasonally.

The most visible element of the site, a yellow-trimmed shed which stands opposite the station platform, was the first of seven buildings which made up the camp. The shed changed hands multiple times, purchased from the Maine Central Railroad some time before 1900. The railroad used the shed to store a handcar and other tools for track maintenance. The Laurent family eventually added a sun porch to the shed between 1940 and the 1960s, expanding the overall retail space available. As of summer 2023, the shop and other buildings which remain stand in various states of decay, boarded up and nailed shut to keep out vandals. Based on my observations, the shop is in the best shape and would have the greatest chance of restoration into a miniature museum or some alternate use.

Cabin (circa 1884-1910) and residence of Stephen Laurent. The kitchen cabin and Cabin D, closely associated with Emanuel Laurent, stand opposite.

Set back in the forest, a total of three buildings remain of the six total (excluding the purchased shed) which Chief Joseph Laurent built at the camp between 1884 and 1910. These buildings are all residential in nature, as the basket storage shed and another cabin were destroyed some time before 1989 when the National Register of Historic Places paperwork was prepared. A contingent of 12-18 Abenaki men would travel to Intervale each summer from Odanak, living on-site for the season. Stephen Laurent’s cabin, son and successor of Chief Laurent, looks to be in the best shape with only minor vandalism visible from the exterior. The camp’s kitchen, centrally located and looking somewhat like a barn, is the largest building left. Meals were prepared there for the whole community, though cooking was done outdoors as well.

The Mount Washington Hotel, one of the tourist attractions which drew visitors to the White Mountains and spurred growth in Intervale.

A granite stone with a plaque presented to mark the township’s acquisition of the property in 1985. The site would be listed on the National Historic Register in 1991.

The last remaining cabin stands to the left of the camp’s kitchen. This cabin is 1 1/2 stories like the others, but looks to be in an advanced state of decay with plywood patching what must be a gaping hole in the rear left corner. Stephen Laurent, expanded the site to include a model Indian village which featured a wigwam and an authentic totem pole, dismantled in 1982.

At the peak of production, baskets and other handicraft would be made over the winter in Canada and toted to the US for sale. The booming tourist business, driven by opulent hotels like the Mount Washington Hotel, set up a steady stream of customers for authentic Abenaki goods. Beyond the shop, baskets were also sold on consignment at local hotels. Other Abenaki camps were established during the summers from the White Mountains to the Adirondacks, but none were as permanent as the Laurent family’s camp.

Chief Joseph Laurent operated the shop and camp for over 30 years until his death in 1917. Beyond his contributions to the Intervale area, Chief Laurent also published a crucial Abenaki to English dictionary which helped to preserve the Abenaki language in 1884, the same year he established the camp in Intervale. His widow continued to operate the business until 1960, when their son Stephen took things over. In 1985 the property on which the camp sat was gifted to Conway Township, who maintains the interpretive signs and historic structures. Clearly revered by the community even after his death, it was reported that 500 people showed up to the unveiling of an honorary plaque dedicated to Chief Laurent by his children in 1953.

Plaque donated in memory of Chief Joseph Laurent by his children, situated to the right of the old Abenaki shop. 500 people attended the dedication ceremony in 1959.

Looking North East down the railroad tracks towards Mount Washington from the former Intervale railroad station opposite the camp.