Post by John Parry on Nov 15, 2005 3:36:11 GMT -5
Hi All,
My first 'real' camera was a Yashica 35J, which I believe
was at the bottom end of the range that included the
"Ministers".
I bought it in Singapore in 1970, when as a young
merchant seaman I decided I needed to record some
of the amazing sights I was seeing daily. Totally
bewildered at the technology on offer, I asked advice
from anybody and everybody, and one day was lucky
enough to find myself enjoying a Tiger beer with a party
of Royal Navy seamen - one of whom turned out to be
the ship's photographer of HMS Fife.
His advice ran something like - "The box on the back
doesn't matter - they are all much the same. So what
you need to do is look at the lens. For the price, you
can't beat the Yashica lenses."
Having a limited budget, I couldn't afford an SLR, so I
plumped for the 35J. That camera, with a Panasonic
flash, stood me in good stead for the next 15 years.
I got excellent results, particularly with Konica and Geva
(you never see it nowadays) film. I thought I was the
greatest photographer in the world, but I became
increasingly suspicious. Although I meticulously
recorded every aperture and speed setting for every
shot, they all came out - seemingly no matter what the
settings. My conclusion? These controls aren't
connected to anything inside the camera!
I was convinced of this, until I got a rude awakening. It
was difficult to get films developed, because we would
often only be in port for a day or two, and there was no
such thing as 1 Hour Processing. You had to pay a
premium for 3-Day Processing! So I hit on the idea of
going for slide film. You could pre-pay the processing
for slides, and the processing slip that came with the
film would be honoured in any country. So I used to
send the exposed films via air-mail back to UK, where
they were processed and sent home. This was such a
great idea that I blasted away without a care in the
world.
When I got home at the end of that voyage, there were
maybe ten sets of slides awaiting me. Oh dear! The
controls of the camera were connected inside. Ten
sets of rubbish (well not quite so bad, but bad enough).
I had to start taking notes for every shot all over again.
Just one example. This was a fiesta in Valencia, Spain.
See the problem?
Regards - John
My first 'real' camera was a Yashica 35J, which I believe
was at the bottom end of the range that included the
"Ministers".
I bought it in Singapore in 1970, when as a young
merchant seaman I decided I needed to record some
of the amazing sights I was seeing daily. Totally
bewildered at the technology on offer, I asked advice
from anybody and everybody, and one day was lucky
enough to find myself enjoying a Tiger beer with a party
of Royal Navy seamen - one of whom turned out to be
the ship's photographer of HMS Fife.
His advice ran something like - "The box on the back
doesn't matter - they are all much the same. So what
you need to do is look at the lens. For the price, you
can't beat the Yashica lenses."
Having a limited budget, I couldn't afford an SLR, so I
plumped for the 35J. That camera, with a Panasonic
flash, stood me in good stead for the next 15 years.
I got excellent results, particularly with Konica and Geva
(you never see it nowadays) film. I thought I was the
greatest photographer in the world, but I became
increasingly suspicious. Although I meticulously
recorded every aperture and speed setting for every
shot, they all came out - seemingly no matter what the
settings. My conclusion? These controls aren't
connected to anything inside the camera!
I was convinced of this, until I got a rude awakening. It
was difficult to get films developed, because we would
often only be in port for a day or two, and there was no
such thing as 1 Hour Processing. You had to pay a
premium for 3-Day Processing! So I hit on the idea of
going for slide film. You could pre-pay the processing
for slides, and the processing slip that came with the
film would be honoured in any country. So I used to
send the exposed films via air-mail back to UK, where
they were processed and sent home. This was such a
great idea that I blasted away without a care in the
world.
When I got home at the end of that voyage, there were
maybe ten sets of slides awaiting me. Oh dear! The
controls of the camera were connected inside. Ten
sets of rubbish (well not quite so bad, but bad enough).
I had to start taking notes for every shot all over again.
Just one example. This was a fiesta in Valencia, Spain.
See the problem?
Regards - John
