Taking photographs underwater is a surprisingly difficult business. Aside from the obvious problem of keeping water out of the camera mechanism, there are the controls, which you need to be able to operate wearing gloves, and the viewfinder and displays that have to be viewable through a mask. On top of that the camera has to be able to work at depth, under considerable pressure, in a wide range of temperatures, and it must be robust, to survive the inevitable knocks, bumps and drops. It also helps if it floats, in case you accidentally let go.

The Minolta Weathermatic-A ticks all of those boxes, plus a few more besides, and it became a favourite with divers, snorkellers, sailors and outdoor types who got wet for a good few years. It was one of the first (possibly the first) underwater camera using the long defunct 110 cartridge format. Underwater in this context means it’s rated to a depth of 5 metres, though that was almost certainly a fairly conservative figure and it would probably be able to go twice as deep without mishap. The bright yellow case is a really rugged design and the waterproofing measures are most impressive. There is only one opening, at the back and the removable clear panel is held tightly in place by two rotating compression clamps. A rubber O-ring around the edge of the back panel and seals around the two control knobs, shutter button and film advance lever ensure that no water can get in.

Key features include a high quality 3-element, f1:3.5/26mm lens, large focus, aperture and film winder controls and a ‘Sportsfinder ‘ viewfinder that can be used as normal or through diving goggles when beneath the waves. Focus is from 0.9 metres to infinity; it’s continuously variable but there’s a detent on the portrait (3.5m) setting. There are three aperture presets for sunny, cloudy and flash and the shutter has a fixed speed of 1/200th sec. Viewfinder displays include a simple pointer showing the chosen focus setting and an LED that shows insufficient light and flash ready; the latter is powered by a single AA cell.

I bought this camera from a friend a dozen or more years ago. It was in as-new condition and had never been used and as far as I can recall I paid a tenner for it. I would dearly love to say it has been with me on many descents to the briny deep but the truth is the deepest it has ever been is a couple of meters, at our local swimming pool plus a few quick sploshes in the sea. That’s not to say it hasn’t been used. It has given reliable service and produced some great pictures on dry land, surviving the attentions of my two kids as they grew up and took it on holidays and school trips. It’s a tough customer and even after lying dormant for several years it still looks good, it works too and the flash fired up straight away.

What Happened To It?

Minolta’s Weathermatic camera range, which also included binoculars, followed the trends and changes in film formats with 35mm and aps models in the 80s and 90s. The 110 format was already on the wane by the time this model came out. Nevertheless, it seems that it continued in production throughout most of the 1980s. There were only a small handful of rival waterproof models available, and as far as I can see, and in spite of the 110 formats many shortcomings, none of them were as good as this one. Minolta had a tough time in the 1990s and never really got into digital photography, which would have been the next logical step for the Weathermatic marque. Minolta merged with Konica in 2004 and pulled out of the camera market in 2006.

Weathermatic-A models, like this can be found on ebay, often selling for £10.00 or less. This reflects the fact that they are effectively obsolete, 110 film is now very difficult to find, and getting it processed can be a problem. Like any specialist camera it has the potential to become a collectable but it may take a while. Don’t let that put you off, though, that just means there are some real bargains to be had and now is a great time to buy, just don’t expect anyone other than your great grandchildren to benefit from your investment…

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1980

Original Price £40.00?

Value Today? £5.00

Features: 110 (16mm) cartridge format, f1:3.5, 26mm 4-element lens, zone focusing (5 distances), 3 aperture settings (sun, cloud, flash), metal blade shutter fixed speed 1/200th sec., LED under exposure/flash ready warning, built in flash, optical sportsfinder with parallax correction frame, next carry strap, 5m submersion

Power req. 1 x AA cell

Weight: 347g (ex film & batt)

Dimensions: 190 x 72 x 38 mm

Made in: Japan

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 5

Coca-Cola Burger King Keychain Camera, 1980?

Cameras don’t get much simpler, or smaller, than this one, and I’m pretty sure you won’t find many that are cheaper as it was almost certainly given away as a freebie. This one is clearly part of a promotion for Coca-Cola and Burger King but I have seen the exact same model in Kellogg’s Corn Flakes livery, and I have no doubt there were others.

I’m putting the date at late seventies to early eighties but this is just a guess. The 110 film cartridge format was introduced in 1972 but it will have taken a few years for cameras of this type and simplicity to evolve. Similar designs can still be found, but this particular model may have been made by a company called Ansco, or it might have been Micro-Pet, or one of half a dozen other equally obscure makes, but they mostly seem to have disappeared in the mid 80s. I haven’t been able to find anything on the relevant Coke/BK or Kellogg’s promotions, so if anyone out there can help me pin it down I would be grateful.

As you can see in the main photograph (above), the largest part of the camera is the film cartridge, which clips onto the back of the tiny camera module (right) Apart from the film advance thumbwheel on the front, and a shutter button on the back there are no controls. Incidentally, the round circle on the top, which looks like it should be the shutter release is a phoney, it’s just a sticker. The only other notable features are a detachable keychain; there’s a small window in the rear of the film cartridge retaining clip, so you can see the frame number and it has a flip-up viewfinder on the top. In fact that’s a rather grand name for what is basically a piece of plastic with a rectangular hole that you look through, to frame the shot. There’s a notch cut into the side of the viewfinder, which I feel has some purpose, but I have no idea what that is so again, if anyone can enlighten me, please get in touch.

It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, it takes terrible pictures. It could hardly do anything else, as the 110 film format wasn’t noted for quality. The chances of a tiny plastic lens, probably costing a fraction of a penny to make, capturing a sharp image is next to zero; less than zero in fact when you factor in the lack of any exposure controls. I dare say you might get a recognisable blur on a bright sunny day but that’s almost certainly as far as it goes. To be fair, these were made to be given away. They were a bit of fun and mostly aimed at kids, but I suspect they managed to annoy quite a few parents, pestered into buying and processing a film, with predictably disappointing results.

What Happened To It?

The 110 format film remained in production until 2008. There may even be someone somewhere still making it but it had passed it sell by date at least 20 years earlier, killed off initially by Kodak doing their usual trick of introducing a new film type in 1982 (the ill fated and short lived Disc format). Also in the early 80s 35mm compact autos proved very popular and in 1995 Kodak launched the APS format, and latterly the rise and rise of digital photography.

Cameras like this are quite collectable, but mainly as promotional items, and I’m guessing that there’s a dedicated Coca Cola or Burger King fan out there who would dearly like to get their hands on this one, but that doesn’t mean it’s worth anything. My estimate of its current value of £5.00 is probably rather generous, especially as I only paid 50 pence for it at a car boot sale. Nevertheless, it’s an interesting and little travelled by water of photography and maybe one day miniature freebie cameras like this will be collectable in their own right, and as an added bonus they don’t take up much space…

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1980?

Original Price usually free

Value Today? £5.00?

Features: Single speed (1/100th second) shutter, flip up viewfinder, film advance thumbwheel, shutter button, detachable keychain

Power req. n/a

Weight: 24g (without film cartridge)

Dimensions: 65 x 35 x 30 mm

Made in: Taiwan

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 4

Minolta XG-SE, Compact SLR, 1978

This is what a proper camera looks like. True, this Minolta XG-SE doesn’t appear to be significantly different from one of today’s digital SLRs, but the point is, with one of these in your hands, you and not a bunch of smart-arsed microchips are in charge. You control the focus, aperture and shutter speed. The downside is that you usually won’t get to find out how good (or more likely bad…) the photographs you’ve taken are until several days after the event.

Now that may not sound like much of an argument for old-tyme 35mm film cameras, but knowing that you may only have one chance to get it right, and it is going to cost you money however the pictures turn out, makes you a better photographer. Even getting it wrong teaches you valuable lessons. You had to actually think about things like exposure, lighting and composition. It’s a far cry from today’s digicams where you just blast away in the hope that one of your snaps will turn out okay, and even if it doesn’t, you can tweak it on your computer. It’s probably a bit pretentious to describe 35mm photography in this context as an art form, but digital has yet to fully replicate the look and texture of film and taking photos with a camera like this really is more challenging and satisfying, especially when you get it right.

I produced my fair share of good pictures on this very camera (well, I think they were okay), which I bought on a trip to the US in 1979. It was state of the art and the best I could afford; I reckon I must have blown a month’s wages on it. But it was worth every penny, becoming a constant companion on assignments and holidays for a good few years, and it never let me down once. The picture shows it fitted with one of several zoom lenses I used over the years, and a Minolta motor drive that I bought for one special job. That was the launch of the first Space Shuttle in 1981, which I was covering for a magazine. The sequence of pictures I shot from the press enclosure, just over 3 miles from the launch pad, were the best I have ever taken, though annoyingly I missed the full spectacle, viewing much of it one-eyed, through the viewfinder.

I would like to think that I chose this model for its easy to use controls, range of exposure options and great quality (photographically and mechanically). It has all of those, but it was the compact shape, the Minolta brand, smart black body and a very persuasive salesperson that sold it to me. But whether by luck or judgement it was definitely one of my better buying decisions.

The selector wheel on the top spent most of its time in the ‘A’ (Aperture Priority) position and the camera sorts out the shutter speed, leaving the user to manually adjust iris and focus, and for the most part it worked superbly well. There’s a simple illuminated display in the viewfinder that shows the selected shutter speed, so you can make creative decisions about the depth of field and so on, by adjusting the iris. Focusing is also near idiot-proof, with an optical spit screen then ensures pin-sharp results, almost every time.

What Happened To It?

It turns out that the XG-SE model was only in production for a year or so. It wasn’t significantly different to a couple of other XG cameras in Minolta’s range, though I doubt that many of them were made. Sadly it’s showing its age now so it’s probably not worth much but it’s an old friend and I wouldn’t part with it. The XG series built up a good reputation for quality and value for money and continued with several improvements and variations until 1982 when it was replaced by the X-370 range.

My SE still works; I haven’t run a film through it for several years but I have no doubt that it is still capable of taking brilliant photographs, though not necessarily by me. My photography muscles, such as they were, have become fat and lazy over the years, thanks to a sucession of 35mm and APS auto compacts and super-smart digital cameras. Like everyone else I can’t wait to see the results, or resist the temptation to fiddle with my snaps on the PC, which is a great, but I miss the anticipation and even the smell of a crisp envelope full of newly developed prints. Taking pictures nowadays may be as easy as falling off a log, and you are virtually guaranteed to get a picture in almost any lighting condition, but it just isn’t as much fun as it used to be...

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1978

Original Price $290 (with standard 45mm f1.4 lens)

Value Today? £50.00?

Features: Horizontal-traverse cloth focal plane shutter, 1 second to 1/1000th second, with X-sync at 1/60, centre-weighted CdS cell exposure meter, aperture priority auto-exposure with step-less shutter speeds, manual shutter, PM type focusing screen, with a horizontal bi-prism, electronic self-timer (10 secs), battery check light, hot flash shoe with X terminal,

Power req. 2 x LR44 button cell

Weight: 700g (with standard lens)

Dimensions: 140 x 90 x 90 mm

Made in: Japan

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 6

Zenith BM-51-2 Stereo Microscope, 1985?

The world of the very, very small has always been a source of fascination for me and in my time I must have owned at least half a dozen microscopes of varying power, sophistication and quality. My first one, which was probably given to me when I was around 10 or 12, was part of some Junior scientist kit. It was metal, with a black crackle finish and made by Merit, who specialised in science outfits. It probably had a magnification of 50x and came with tweezers blank slides and a small selection of pre-prepared specimens. These were things like fly’s wings and some mysterious red filament thingy, which wasn’t labelled and seemed to be a staple ingredient of these kits.

But back to the matter in hand, and this Russian-made Zenith BM-51-2 stereo binocular microscope, with a fixed magnification of 8.75x. There’s not much information online but I am fairly sure they were in production for at least 25 years. They were popular with schools and colleges as they are really tough, and very easy to use. It’s a simple design, and if you look closely at the two eyepiece parts you’ll see that they look a lot like a pair of binoculars. That’s because that’s what they used to make it; they even left on the neck strap retaining loops.

This model has only three adjustments. The distance between the eyepiece lenses is set by twisting the two prism housings, the instrument can be raised or lowered – to accommodate larger specimens, and there’s a simple rack and pinion arrangement for focussing. The circular plate in the base can be flipped over – the other side is black. A pair of spring clips can be used to hold thin flat specimens in place.

Stereo microscopes have several advantages over the single barrel type. The image is in glorious stereo or 3D, they are much less tiring to use for long periods, and because there are two optical paths more light gets through, producing a brighter, sharper image. The big downside, of course is the increase in cost and complexity. Good stereo microscopes can be very expensive indeed, but that’s where the BM-51-2 scores so well. The simple, rugged design is pitched at the education market. It is made in Russia and certainly the first ones would have been produced in the Soviet USSR era, when most factories were state owned, cost was not an issue and products like this were often produced for export and sold for artificially low prices to bring in much needed foreign currency.

What Happened To It?

Production on the BM-51-2 lasted well into the 21st century. Its replacement is a little more sophisticated, with a magnification of 10x but the general design is basically the same. In the wider world stereo microscopes have changed little over the years, though high-end models often now sport built in video cameras or attachments for the same.

Microscope collecting is a specialised field and fine quality antique instruments can sell for tens of thousands of pounds, Even if you lower your sights it can still become an expensive hobby, good quality microscopes costs a lot when new, they last for years so not that many are made and comparatively few of them make it into the marketplace, where prices hold up well. There are bargains to be had but they are few and far between or they are fixer uppers or have parts missing.

This instrument is at the bottom end of the scale. Serious collectors tend not be interested in models like this, which are comparatively recent and made in fairly large numbers, which explains why it only cost me £12.00 at a antique fair. They were supplied in wooden carry cases, unfortunately this one wasn’t but it seems to have been well looked after, although it was a bit grubby. It scrubbed up well, though and now looks like new, though judging by the markings I suspect it is from the late Soviet era. It works a treat, and whilst 8.75x magnification may not sound a lot, it’s more than enough for examining things like banknotes and documents, small creatures, working on miniature electronic devices and gazing at the fine detail on a multitude of natural and man-made objects that you only really appreciate when you get up close and personal, and in stereo, of course.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1980

Original Price £50

Value Today? £20

Features: Stereo binocular microscope, fixed 8.75x magnification, rack and pinion focussing, reversible specimen platter, specimen retaining clips

Power req. n/a

Weight: 1.5kg

Dimensions: 300 x 174 x 130mm

Made in: Russia (USSR)

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 5

Polaroid Swinger II Instant Camera, 1970

The Polaroid Swinger was my first encounter with instant camera photography. In fact the one I had belonged to my parents but I commandeered it once they lost interest, though still relied on them to purchase film packs, which were horrendously expensive. That was back in the late 1960s and the camera was a first generation white model. It had a a built in flashgun that used one-shot flashbulbs. This one is a slightly later Swinger II and was a bit cheaper because the flashgun was an optional extra. Both models used Type 20 roll film packs, which produced 8 black and white prints. The film loads into the back of the camera, flipping a large lever on the back opens the hatch, which also give access to a holder for two AA batteries, which powers the cameras simple exposure system.

Taking a photo is fairly straightforward. You frame the shot then pinch the large red and white shutter button. This illuminates a small checkerboard display in the bottom of the viewfinder; you have to twist the shutter button until the word ‘YES’ appears clearly in the display and you can click the shutter button. Next, you press in the blue button on the back, pull back a hinged flap and use your thumb and forefinger to grip the film sheet, which you pull out of the camera in one steady movement. This draws a small sachet of developer chemical and the exposed film through a set of rollers, the sachet ruptures and spreads the chemical over the surface of the film. After a couple of minutes – the actual time varies according to ambient temperature – peel apart the film from its backing sheet and if you were very lucky the picture was revealed. More often than not, though the picture was too light or too dark so you had to have another go; if you got more than four useable pictures from a pack you were doing very well. Film packs also included a sort of squeegee coated with a chemical fixer that you wipe over the image, to stop it fading, at least that was the theory...

Having the image develop there and then was a hugely impressive trick; Polaroid instant cameras had been around for quite a while, but very few people owned one as they were incredibly expensive. The Swinger also known as the Sentinel bought instant photography to the masses and it became one of the top selling cameras of all time with more than four million of them made between 1965 and 1970. They were very cheap to buy; I suspect they were heavily subsidised, as usual the real money was made on the film packs with each print costing the equivalent of five or six pounds in today’s money.

What Happened To It?

The Swinger’s biggest drawback was that it could only take black and white photos, which by the late 60s was decidedly old hat with colour photography becoming the norm for home snappers. Polaroid didn’t leave that gap in the market unplugged for long and by the early 1970s it had developed a Colour Swinger model. Many more cameras followed and Polaroid pretty much ruled the instant camera roost well into the late 1990s when digital cameras started to take off.

This one is in good condition and as far as I can tell in the absence of a film, it is in full working order. I found it at a car boot sale where it was priced at £2.00 but I haggled it down to £1.50. This gives you some idea of its real value. A great many of them have survived so if you want one you can afford to be really picky as there are plenty of examples in mint condition to be had, some in their original box and with instructions. However, I doubt that they will ever be worth very much, production of Type 20 film stopped several years ago so they’re of little or no practical use. Nevertheless, it’s still an interesting object and a must have for anyone keen on sixties vintage cameras and of course, collectors of instant cameras.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1965

Original Price £20

Value Today? £2

Features: Simple manual exposure system, optical viewfinder, optional flashgun, carry strap

Power req. 2 x AA cells

Weight: 150 x 125 x 125mm

Dimensions: 610g

Made in: UK

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 3

Prinz Dual 8 Proofmaster Cine Editor, 1970

Even though I’m not a home movie enthusiast, for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted one of these. It’s a cine film editor and I suppose I was attracted to them because they look teccy and gadgety; they light up and there are knobs, buttons and cranks to fiddle with. I finally realised my ambition at an antique market recently where this Prinz Dual 8 Proofmaster cried out to me from a manky cardboard box filled with all sorts of old cine hardware and reels of film. On reflection I foolishly ignored the rest of the bits and pieces and paid the stallholder a fiver for it.

You don’t need to be particularly cinematically minded to work out what it does and how it works. You load your unedited footage and an empty reel onto the capstans on the two crank arms, thread it through the rollers and under the little spring-loaded guide clamp beneath the screen and crank away. When you find the bit you want to chop just remove the film, snip the section out and rejoin the ends. It’s an absurdly simple and near idiot-proof process that for all of its digital wizardry, video movie technology has yet to match.

There’s very little to say on the how it works front. The optical system comprises a small lamp shining through a rotary shutter or gate. This is driven by the sprocket holes that are cut into the edge of the film. Light passes through the each film frame, then a lens and onto a mirror that projects the image onto the rear of the ground glass screen. The only control, apart from the crank handles, is a rotary knob on the lamp housing that switches the frame aperture, between Standard and Super 8 film sizes. In side there’s a small 10 watt lamp, which produces quite a dull image but I suspect that’s deliberate, to avoid damaging the film, through excessive heat and light as it is liable to be stationary for long periods.

What Happened To It?

Prinz was a Dixon’s own brand but I can’t be entirely sure who made it. The Proofmaster hails from Japan and it seems very well made, maybe one of the well known photographic companies was doing a spot of badge engineering? There’s very little info about it online so I’m also guessing the original price, which I’ve put at £50. Anyone who knows better please feel free to put me right.

Although video killed cine stone dead in the late 80s and early 90s there remains a determined band of enthusiasts who keep it going so devices like this are probably still in demand and sought after. I checked and there always seems to be one or two on ebay though they never seem to fetch much, unless they are in pristine condition. I doubt that many were made cine was never a mainstream hobby. A fair number of people bought cameras and projectors but the hassle and expense of making a jittery 3 minute movie meant that relatively few people got beyond half a dozen reels and only a tiny percentage went on to edit their films. The presently low prices for cine equipment is a surprise though and doesn’t reflect the original cost, precision and high quality of construction of these products. My guess is prices will rise and within the next few years these wonderful looking gizmos could become quite collectable as decorative objects, let alone the fact that they still have a practical use. Who knows, maybe it’s time for retro cine revival? Stranger things have happened…

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1970

Original Price £50

Value Today? £5

Features: Standard 8 & Super 8 compatible, twin crank drive, manual shutter advance, 10 watt lamp

Power req. 220 volts AC

Weight: 140 x 170 x 235mm (ex crank arms)

Dimensions: 2kg

Made in: Japan

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 3

Prinz 110 Auto Pocket Camera, 1978

The 110 film cartridge format was the successor to Kodak’s hugely popular 126 Instamatic format and as before its principle role was to encourage users to consume film and processing services, rather than sell cameras and promote photography.

It first appeared in 1972 almost exactly 10 years after the Instamatic format was launched. The most important feature was the small size of the cassette, which resulted in a new generation of ultra compact cameras. With each frame of film measuring just 17 x 13mm it posed no threat – at least as far as quality was concerned – to 35mm and the larger film formats, but that wasn’t the point. A 110 camera fitted snugly in your pocket or purse and you could whip it out and take a picture of anything that took your fancy with a minimum of fuss.

Prinz was a Dixon’s own brand and unusually, the 110 Auto was a notch or two above most other budget 110 cameras of the day. Points of interest include a simple automatic exposure system, a ‘one-touch’ sliding film advance lever on the bottom, a light-sensor on the front, next to the lens, a cable release trigger next to the shutter button and there’s even a tripod mount on the underside.

Low cost electronic flash was still to come, so to keep the price down this camera used Flashcubes. This was another ingenious money-spinning idea. Essentially each cube contains four one-shot flashbulbs, (costing many times as much as four ordinary flashbulbs), but the really clever thing about Flashcubes was that they were fired mechanically, similar to striking a match, so the camera didn’t need batteries. In fact the Prinz 110 Auto does use a battery to power the AE system, it’s a proprietary 4.5volt design that needless to say is no longer available.

Incidentally, the optional Flashcube ‘stalk’ was an attempt to avoid redeye. This was a perennial problem with 110 cameras, due to the proximity of the flash to the centre-line of the lens. The narrow angle increased the chance of light from the flash bouncing back from the subject’s retinas into the lens.

What Happened To It?

110 cameras were initially quite successful; there were scores of models to choose from though it has to be said that most of them were pretty awful. With film size that small the roles of the lens and exposure system are critical but performance and quality just wasn’t an issue for most manufacturers. Never the less, the format enjoyed quite reasonable sales for several years; film was still being made as recently as 2009, though rumour has it Kodak still has a small scale plant in operation.

The format didn’t die overnight, but as before it was Kodak that effectively pulled the plug by introducing its ill-fated Disc format in 1982. By now you may have spotted a pattern. That’s right, since the 1960s on average Kodak has launched a new film format every 10 years or so (well almost, the APS format was a bit late and didn’t appear until 1995…).

No prizes for guessing where this one came from. As with so many other gizmos on these pages it was rescued from a car boot sale and cost 50 pence. It was an absolute bargain as it came with an unused film, and a flashcube with two good bulbs. It’s in good condition too and the winder and shutter still work, but alas the AE system is all but useless due to the lack of a battery. It should be possible to refurbish the pack with some modern button cells but that’s a project that will have to wait for a very dull rainy day. Cameras like these are far too common to have any real value but there were a number of high-end models made by the likes of Canon, Minolta, Minox, Pentax and Voigtlander and I imagine that they could become quite collectable, so it is worth keeping an eye out for pristine, boxed examples.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1978

Original Price £10?

Value Today? £2

Features: 110 format film, auto exposure, flashcube flash with extender, slide lever film advance

Power req. 538 custom battery pack, 4.5 volts

Weight: 170g

Dimensions: 125 x 55 x 27mm

Made in: Japan

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 3

Kodak Brownie Starflash, 1960

I try to avoid using the word cool but I’m going to make an exception for the Brownie Starflash, which has to be one of the coolest snap cameras ever made. Any digital camera designers out there casting around for an iconic retro style to pinch look no further. It’s also the camera I most wanted when I was a kid but by the time I could afford one, in the early 1960s, cameras like this were becoming decidedly un-cool, for reasons that we’ll come to in a moment.

But back to the Starflash and it was a hugely successful design with the first ones appearing in the mid fifties. The black and silver model I have here was the most common type but there were several special editions, including a very rare Coca-Cola branded model that’s now worth a very pretty penny. It’s popularity and longevity can be put down to one thing, simplicity. It’s a true point-and-shoot design and if was a bit dark, or you were snapping away indoors, just pop in a flash bulb.

There are only two controls, the shutter lever on the side and a very simple aperture lever beneath the lens for switching from black and white to less sensitive colour slide film. The cameras takes 12 exposure 127 roll film and this was its Achilles heel. It had to be loaded in near dark conditions and since this involved threading the end of the reel onto a take-up spool it was a really fiddly business. You could try loading it in subdued light but if you got it wrong and light got onto the film it would be fogged, or if it wasn’t threaded properly it didn’t wind on and you wouldn’t know until it came back from the processors.

Despite all that it did take reasonable pictures but the prints were very small, measuring 4 x 4 cm or just over 1.5-inches square. Of course you could have them enlarged but it was expensive. Colour slide film was more successful but it was quite pricey and of course you needed to have a projector in order to view your photographs. Flash bulbs too could rack up the price as well but the disadvantages were more than outweighed by the fun factor, ease of use, robust build quality and the fact that there’s very little to go wrong.

What Happened To It?

No prizes for guessing, it was Kodak’s own Instamatic film cassette, introduced in 1963 that did for the Starflash and most of the other roll film cameras around at that time. Kodak’s innovative and near idiot-proof cartridge system solved at a stroke all of the problems surrounding loading a camera with film and as an added bonus automated processing systems were able to produce bigger, sharper prints. Millions of roll film cameras were abandoned almost overnight in favour of the new technology and sad to say, no one really missed them.

This one is a fairly rough example that I picked up in a Brighton junk shop recently for £7.00. On the plus side it works perfectly and there was even a roll of film and a pair of vintage batteries inside. I suppose the price was about right but you will find plenty of better examples on sale at boot fairs and on ebay for not much more than I paid for this one. It’s far from rare, though, so many were made that you shouldn’t have too much trouble finding one and you can afford to be choosy and hold out for a mint example in its original box or case, or splash out on one of the scarcer two-tone coloured versions. By the way, films, flashbulbs and processing can still be found but think twice before using one to take photographs as it could develop – pun intended – into a very expensive habit…

GIZMO GUIDE Manual

First seen: 1955

Original Price £8.00

Value Today? £10 - 50 depending on condition

Features: Fixed shutter & focus, two-position aperture (colour/black & white), Dakon lens, integrated flashgun, 127 roll film, M2/M3/M5/M25 flashbulbs, carry strap

Power req. 2 x AA

Weight: 180g

Dimensions: 130 x 55 x 85mm

Made in: USA

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 6

Polaroid Supercolor 635CL Instant Camera 1985

By the early to mid 80s when Polaroid’s Series 600 cameras appeared, of which the 635CL is a good example, instant photography had evolved into a highly refined science. However, taking pictures and seeing the results a minute or so later were almost a side issue. Polaroid’s real skill was in merchandising the film packs; it almost gave the cameras away in order to persuade very large numbers of people to buy them, and then be forever in their grasp. Sounds familiar? Well, the idea of making money on the consumables, by subsidising the cost of the hardware has been a successful business model for manufacturers of inkjet printers for years, and honed to perfection by the Apple Corporation, for who the iPod and iPhone are just highly efficient vehicles for selling music, movies and apps. But I digress.

In the 70s and 80s just about everyone owned a Polaroid camera at one time or another, and generally – though I have no hard data to back this up – purchased two or three packs of film then aghast at the real cost of instant photography, put the camera into the back of a cupboard and forgot about it. In other words they are not rare, though when Polaroid announced a couple of years ago they were stopping production of film packs I suspect quite a lot disappeared into landfill – but that’s not quite the end of the story as we will see in a moment.

Like most Polaroid cameras the 635 is absurdly easy to use, just open the door at the front, slide in a 10-print 600 film pack (the film pack also contains the battery), close the door, snap open the lens cover/flash bar, frame the shot, press the button and out pops a print that develops in daylight in around a minute. If you were very lucky it didn’t look too bad. Most of the time though it looked awful, so you took another one, and if you listened very carefully you could hear the sounds of hands rubbing together and cash registers jingling at the Polaroid Corporation.

If there wasn’t enough light the flash would fire, and if you judged the result too light or too dark there’s a simple slider control on the front under the lens, so you could take yet another photo. The 635CL had an added refinement in the shape of a close-up facility, basically a pair of lenses that slides in front of the main lens and viewfinder, for snapping subjects between 0.6 and 1.2 metres in front of the lens.

What Happened To It?

Following a sustained campaign by diehard fans Polaroid recently announced that it was going to resume production of instant film packs. For no good reason that I can see Polaroid cameras have become quite trendy, especially amongst art students (so my art student daughter tells me…), and there was sufficient interest to persuade Polaroid to start making them again. In fact the supply of films never quite dried up and old stocks have been on sale on ebay, recently fetching silly prices – at the time of writing 600 film packs were selling for around £25, or well over £2.00 a print.

How long this revival will last is anyone’s guess, I give it a couple of years at best. Instant film cameras became obsolete for three very simple reasons, they cost a fortune to run, the pictures were not very good, and the deathblow was finally dealt by digital photography.

There are probably still many hundreds of thousands of Polaroid cameras still kicking around; this one cost me two quid at a car boot, so don’t expect anything made from the 1980s onwards to appreciate much in value in the foreseeable. Older Polaroid cameras are becoming collectable though, and later high-end models still fetch a good price, but regard that as an opportunity. Their value should increase in the long term so now is the time to grab a few good examples and tuck them away, while you are at it, it might be a good idea to buy a few film packs while you can, they should be good for at least 10 years if stored properly

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1985

Original Price £50

Value Today? £5

Features: Lens 1:11 / 116mm fixed focus, close-up adaptor, electronic shutter 1/4 - 1/200th sec, image size 8x8 cm, built-in flash, Film Pack type 600

Power req. Battery incorporated in film pack

Weight: 600g

Dimensions: 145 x 90 x 120mm

Made in: UK

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 2

Canon Ion RC-260 Still Video Camera, 1988

Just about everyone these days has a digital still camera, and very good they are too, but the really strange thing is how quickly it all happened. One minute we were all happily snapping away on our compact 35mm and APS films cameras, the next it was all megapixels and jpegs.

The rise and rise of the digital still camera has been nothing short of phenomenal and by my reckoning it happened in just six or seven years, starting sometime in 2003/4. In fact it took a good 30 years for pixels to replace film and there were several false starts, which brings us to the Canon Ion, also known as the Q-Pic in Japan and Xapshot in the US.

It was arguably the first successful attempt to take electronic photography to the masses but it was by no means the first electronic still camera. That honour belongs variously to Texas Instruments who filed a patent for an all-electronic still camera in 1972, Kodak who demonstrated a briefcase-sized prototype camera in 1975 but my vote goes to Sony who in 1981 showed the first practical model, called the Mavica (MAgnetic VIdeo CAmera). Sadly it never went into production (though the Mavica name was used on later models) but it set the ball rolling and back then, after having seen it at a trade exhibition I was absolutely convinced that one day soon photographic film would be obsolete.

Film isn't dead yet and electronic photography took much longer than I expected to take off, but it's been quite a journey and the Canon Ion had a pivotal role to play in this story. Prior to its launch in Japan in 1988 there had been several attempts to launch a still video camera (SVC), but they had all been bulky and eye-wateringly expensive. The Ion certainly wasn't cheap, costing around £700 - £800 by the time you'd bought all the necessary accessories, but this was a fraction of the price of its rivals. However, one of the defining features was that it didn't look like a conventional still camera, it was curvy and futuristic but more importantly it overcame one of the fundamental problems of electronic photography in the 1980s, namely how to view recorded images. Back then home computers -- such as they were -- lacked any significant image display capabilities and there was no easy or economical way to print out electronic images, so Canon designed the Ion to connect directly to a an ordinary TV.

By today's standards the spec is laughably basic, to begin with it's not a digital system, it was loosely based on Canon's analogue camcorder technology, recording up to 50 still video images with a resolution of less than 300 lines on a specially designed 2-inch floppy disc. Essentially these were still frames, and anyone who remembers VCRs of that era will know how poor the quality of still frame images could be. In short it was out-performed on almost every level by cheap Instamatic film cameras, but it was a start and for a while it even looked as though Canon's still video floppy could become an industry standard format.

What Happened To It?

In spite of several attempts to improve picture quality, including a shift to slightly higher definition 'Hi-Band' operation SVCs were doomed by the picture quality and the lack of any means of preserving images, other than on expensive floppies or recording pictures to a VCR (with a consequent drop in the already dire picture quality); printing simply wasn't an option at that time due to the cost.

New SVCs continued to appear throughout the early 1990s but there was comparatively little interest from consumers and professionals. Then in 1994 the digital still camera (DSC) market came alive, thanks to developments in digital storage, data and image processing plus innovative and increasingly affordable products from the likes of Apple, Canon, Fuji, Nikon, Pentax, Olympus et-al. Like SVCs a decade earlier it was a slow burn to begin with, hardware prices were still very high and quality was still a bit ropey -- compared with film cameras -- but the world had changed.

By then home computers had become almost commonplace and the Internet was on the rise so now there was a mechanism to store, manipulate, print and share images. Sales of DSCs finally took off in 2001/2, fuelled by the development of multi megapixel image sensors, cheaper memory, broadband Internet, mobile phones, inexpensive colour printers and well, you know the rest...

Several Canon Ions passed through my hands for testing and review in the late 80s and early 90s. They were nice toys to play with but I can't say they left much of an impression. They were far too expensive and the quality just wasn't good enough to make me want one, at least not back then.

Times change, nostalgia kicks in and after a lengthy search I finally snagged one on ebay. It is the Hi-Band version of the RC-260 and it would have cost a very pretty penny back in the day. I paid £25.00 for it, which I consider a bargain as it came with a full accessory kit and a dozen still video floppies..

My one is in excellent condition and it still works perfectly, using the mains adaptor for power. The weird lead acid rechargeable battery has long since expired and I don't hold out much hope of finding a replacement. Prices for the Ion and its ilk are still quite low, which I find surprising, as I doubt that many SVCs were sold. Cameras like these are bona-fide technology milestones but they seem to have been temporarily forgotten and my guess is they have an excellent chance of becoming a future collectible so keep your eyes peeled.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1988

Original Price £500 - £800

Value Today? £100, depending on condition

Features: 0.5-inch 230K pixel CCD, 9,5mm f/2.4 lens, built-in flash, video floppy disc, remote control 230 line resolution

Power req. 8-volt proprietary lead acid rechargeable

Weight: 400g

Dimensions: 120 x 111 x 50mm

Made in: Japan

Hen’s Teeth (10 rarest): 8

Hanimex 220 Disc Camera, 1986

I can remember walking out of the UK press launch of the Kodak Disc Camera format, back in 1982, thinking this isn’t going to work. I had the same feeling almost 15 years later, at the launch of the Kodak APS film format. My uncharacteristically accurate insight into the workings of the photographic industry was formed in 1981 when I had a sneak preview of the world’s first digital camera. The prototype Sony Mavica was a large ungainly beast and I can’t now recall if it actually worked or not, but it was clear to me that it spelt the end of photographic film, (though it took almost two decades and a lot of false starts for me to be proved right). Kodak must have known about the Mavica too but it clearly didn’t see the writing on the wall and it spent the next 20 years in denial, hoping that somehow digital photography was nothing more than a passing fad.

I was handed one of the original Kodak Disc cameras at the launch, to try out but I must have given it away soon afterwards once I realised how bad it was. I found this Hanimex 220 at the bottom of a box in the loft and I’m not sure where it came from but it’s a good example of the genre. It features the typical slim body, compact lens assembly built-in flash and motor drive of most of its contemporaries. There’s very little to say about it, other than it is beautifully simple to use, just pop in the disc cartridge and a couple of AA batteries and it’s ready to go. The only controls are a shutter button and a simple slide switch on the front for setting sunny/dull days and covering the lens. The flash is automatic and a lever on the top opens the back, for loading and unloading discs.

What Happened To It?

The Disc camera format was Kodak’s first attempt to make photographic film look sexy and technically advanced. The early 80s were the start of the digital age and discs were all the rage. LaserDiscs had been around for a year or two, Compact Disc had just started to make an impact on the home audio market and first generation PCs were using floppy discs for data storage.

Kodak’s bright idea was to mount the film on a rotating disc, which instantly made cameras a lot thinner and, in their view much more likely for users to slip one into their pockets and handbags and take more pictures. You have to remember Kodak never made a bean out of selling cameras; all of its money came from selling film and processing. On paper it sounded like a good idea, the trouble was the tiny films – each one measured just 11 x 8mm – had to be massively enlarged and produced truly awful grainy prints. Most camera manufacturers had a half-hearted stab at the Disc format but after a brief flurry of interest most users gave up on them and moved onto the increasingly popular and vastly superior compact 35mm cameras that were coming onto the market. Disc cameras were only around for a few years. Kodak finally pulled the plug on the format in the late 90s to concentrate on its next white elephant, the APS format, but that’s another story for another day… I believe you can still buy disc film and there are a handful of specialists capable of processing it but it has little value beyond that of a short-lived novelty. Nevertheless, as time goes by cameras will become scarcer so if you have one, or spot a particularly nice one at a boot sale, preferably still in its box and selling for less than a couple of pounds, grab it. It might actually be worth something one day…

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1986

Original Price £25?

Value Today? £1?

Features: f2.8, 12.5mm 3-element lens, automatic flash, motor drive, optical viewfinder

Power req. 2 x AA

Weight: 160g

Dimensions: 115 x 82 x 27mm (whd)

Made in: Hong Kong

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 3

Waco TV Slide Lighter, 1970?

If only… No, it’s not a miniature TV but you’re forgiven for thinking it is one, especially, if like me, you remember the first ‘Microvision TV developed by Clive Sinclair, back in the mid-1960s. Sadly it never saw light of day and we had to wait until 1976 for the pocket TV to become a reality.

This Waco ‘TV’ does have some visual features, though. It’s a slide viewer; pop a 35 mm transparency in a slot in the top and it appears on the screen and a small light bulb behind the screen lights it up. It has another hidden talent; it’s also a cigarette lighter. Press the button on the top and the spring loaded lighter cover pops up. The spring mechanism strikes a flint that lights a petrol soaked wick. It probably ran for years on a filling. Around one third of the TV case is taken up by the petrol tank, the other two thirds are occupied by a pair of ‘C’ cells, to power the viewer bulb.

The pretend TV is superbly detailed, all the knobs look as though they should work, the big one at the top actually does, it’s the switch for the slide bulb. The mind boggles at the concept of a fake miniature TV with a built-in slide viewer and cigarette lighter. What were they on? I grew up in the 60s and 70s and it was a strange time but I can’t say I ever remember anyone passing round the slides and fags…

I’m not sure where it is made, there are no marks other than the ‘Waco’ badge and I haven’t managed to find any references to it on the web. My guess is it hails from Japan or Hong Kong, but that’s pure speculation based solely on the styling of the TV. If anyone knows better I would love to know.

What happened to it?

Novelty table ciggy lighters are quite common though mostly they have just the one obvious function and I can’t see this weird combination of features being especially popular so I suspect it didn’t hang around for very long. This particular one has suffered from leaky batteries at some point. Fortunately most of the damage is inside and after a good scrub with a wire brush and coating of WD40 it should be okay. The plastic battery holder disintegrated when I tried to remove it but a modern replacement fits neatly in the case. I found it at a large antique fair in Surrey and it managed to haggle the dealer down from a fiver to four pounds, which given that the condition can only be described as fair, wasn’t a bad deal.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1965?

Original Price £5?

Value Today? £5

Features: Combination cigarette lighter and 35mm slide viewer

Power req. 2 x C cell

Weight: 0.5kg

Dimensions: 98 x 75 x 100mm (whd)

Made in: Japan, Hong Kong?

Hen's Teeth (10 rarest): 5

Minox B, Sub-miniature Camera 1968

This is real James Bond kit, a classic sub-miniature spy camera that was first developed back in 1936 by a German chap called Walter Zapp. The Minox B, which I have here was made between 1958 and 1972, and I believe this one dates from the late 1960s, due to the type of photo cell used in the light meter. When I first acquired it, over 30 years ago, film was readily available and developing was easy too, I actually managed to get films processed through my local camera shop but now only a relatively small number of companies can handle the tiny cartridges, which contain 9.2mm wide film.

It really is beautifully made, like a fine watch, and as you pull the camera apart you cock the shutter mechanism. You have to set the focus manually; the viewfinder is coupled to the focus dial to minimise parallax errors. For close-up work, photographing documents and secret plans, you use the measuring rings on the chain to gauge the focal distance. The exposure setting is elegantly simple, you press a little button next to the light meter dial to take a reading then rotate the shutter speed dial (the large one in the middle) until an arrow on the meter dial aligns with the meter needle. It’s quick and accurate and just the job if you are in a hurry, with the baddies about catch up with you. When you press the shutter button it makes a really satisfying (though not too loud) clockwork motor sound.

There’s more gadgets; the knurled strip above the viewfinder window slides a Neutral Density filter in front of the lens, and there’s a circle marked on one of the two shutter leaves, so you can tell if you’ve taken the shot or not. There’s also an accurate frame counter, a flash synch socket, and shed loads of accessories, that Q would be proud of. There even used to be specialist films including, as I recall, infrared film for really dark conditions. Best of all, it takes really great pictures.

What Happened to It?

The Minox heritage lives on and the company, now owned by Leica still makes miniature and sub-miniature cameras. Personally I don’t think the modern ones are a patch on this one and its predecessors. They are still small and very cute but they just don’t look like proper spy cameras any more. As I say I bought this one over 30 years, along with a Minox developing tank, which I stupidly sold to another enthusiast some years later. I think I paid around £50 for both items, which was probably a bit over the top. Quite a few model B’s were made so they’re not exactly scarce; model As are rarer and therefore dearer. Good Minox Bs can be found on ebay for less than £100, and considering the precision workmanship I reckon that’s a fantastic bargain.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1958

Original Price £75.00?

Value Today? £100.00

Features: Complan Lens, f=15mm, manual shutter (T, B, 1/2, 1/5, 1/10, 1/20, 1/50, 1/100, 1/200, 1/500, 1/1000), manual focus (8in – infinity)2 –stage ND filter, external flash sync, Selenium light meter, measuring chain,

Power req. n/a

Weight: 125g

Dimensions: 100 x 28 x 18mm (case closed)

Made in: Germany

Hen’s Teeth (10 rarest): 6

Polaroid Land Camera Model 330 1969

I hope someone will write in and tell me that film packs are still available for the Polaroid 330 Land Camera but until they do this one is purely decorative. That's a shame because it's a really funky looking gadget, dating form the late sixties but those bellows give it the look and feel of a film camera from the 1930s. The 330 was based on a design - the 100 series -- that first appeared in 1963 but Edwin Land, who pioneered the instant film camera, produced his first models in 1947.

The 330 is a real handful, and that's before you've figured out how to unfold it and drive the bizarre rangefinder focus mechanism. Once you've taken a picture you need three hands to develop a print. It's a real palaver, first you have to pull a white tab, then pinch and tug at a yellow tab that draws the print through a set of rollers, spreading a secret chemical concoction across the surface of the exposed negative and positive papers. You then had to carefully time the process, making sure it was neither too hot or too cold, then peel it apart. Most times you ended up with an image that was either too bright or too dark, so you had to start over. It was sheer genius and Polaroid couldn't lose with prints working out at around a pound a pop (and that was when a pound was worth something...).

What Happened To It?

The 330 was phased out in the early 1970s to be replaced by a new range increasingly elaborate instant cameras and although briefly challenged by the likes of Kodak and Fuji, Polaroid was the only game in town if you wanted a picture on paper in a hurry. Then it all came crashing down in the early 1990s with the first stirrings of digital cameras. It took another ten years before digicams and colour printer technology came of age but it was all downhill from and eventually even professional photographers, who had kept the technology afloat, bailed out.

This one is a boot sale bargain, it cost £5.00 (haggled down from £8.00) and it came complete with the original flashgun, leather carry case and even the instructions. It is in fantastic condition and I have every reason to suppose it is good working order but I'll have to wait until I can find a film for it.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1969

Original Price £40

Value Today? £25

Features: Instant camera, 2-element 114mm, f/8.8 lens, rangefinder focus, auto ‘electric eye’ shutter manual iris (lighten/darken), 75/3000 asa colour/black and white film, film timer, detachable flashgun

Power req. n/a

Weight: 1kg

Dimensions: 200 x 150 x 75mm

Made in: USA

Hen’s Teeth (10 rarest): 51

Chinon 722-P Classic Super 8 Cine, 1973

I have to admit straight away that I never got on with cine. It always seemed to involve a lot of time, effort and expense for very little result. There’s only so much you can cram into a 3-minute home movie and in most cases it’s just a few wonky shots of kids cavorting on the beach. Nevertheless, I absolutely love the mixture of precision mechanics and technology, and it came to a peak in the seventies, just before it was killed stone dead by video.

The Chinon 722-P Classic featured here is a prime example; it’s a mid-range ‘family’ model that uses Super 8 film cartridges, developed in the 1960s. As the name suggests the film used is 8mm wide, each cartridge holds 50 feet of film, enough to 3 minutes and 20 seconds of shooting. This model has only a handful of controls, the start/stop button on the handgrip and zoom rocker on the top. There’s also an on/off switch on the side and a battery test button on the top, and that’s it. Just load four AA cells into the handle, pop in a film cartridge, frame the shot in the optically coupled viewfinder and press the Start button. Everything is automatic and the only decision you need to take when to start and stop recording. When the film is finished you send it off to be developed. The more adventurous, and those making, shall we say more exotic sorts of films, could develop them at home, usually with nothing more complicated than a bucket and a bottle or two readily available chemicals.

The real problem was cine came when the film was returned and the need to mess about setting up a screen and a projector. On the plus side editing was really easy, all you needed was a pair of scissors and some sticky tape. Another major advantage of cine, that’s been long forgotten in the age of video, was that with so little filming time to play around with the need to think carefully about each shot meant that each shot counted and little was wasted.

The Chinon 722-P is really sturdily made, very well balanced and since this one is still working faultlessly after more 30 years, you can take it as read that it was very reliable.

What happened to it?

In a word, video. The first clumsy and overweight portable video outfits appeared in the late 1970s but they were little of no threat to cine. Then in the early 1980s the first camcorders were launched, they were still large and clumsy but by the mid 80s small hand-held models were coming out of the woodwork. Prices fell and by the late 80s cine was dead. Ironically it wasn’t until the mid 90s that video picture quality started to beat top-end cine but it was all over for film. There’s a still a small hard core of enthusiasts and cine cameras are a regular at car boot sales (this one cost me £2.00) so there are plenty of bargains to be had but grab-em quick, they are disappearing fast.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1972

Original Price £100.00

Value Today? £15

Features: 2 x power zoom, auto exposure, through-the-lens optical viewfinder
Power req. 4 x AA

Weight: 0.8kg

Dimensions: 180 x 53 x 180 mm

Made in: Japan

Hen’s Teeth (10 rarest): 4

Kodak EK2 ‘The Handle’ 1977 (manual)

Instant cameras were all the rage in the sixties and seventies, remember, there were no digital cameras back then. The concept was brilliant, the film developed on the spot, so no waiting for prints to come back from the chemist. It was sold as a fun, family friendly technology.

However, although the cameras were comparatively cheap, film packs were horribly expensive, costing around ten times as much as normally developed film and everyone knew most instant cameras were bought by people who wanted to take pictures that were, shall we say, of a ‘private’ nature…

Incidentally, in 1977 Polaroid developed an ‘Instant Movie’ camera system, called Polavision, it was a huge flop, and the timing was dreadful, coming just a couple of years before the first video movie systems.

Polaroid had the instant still camera market pretty much to themselves but in the mid seventies Kodak and several other manufacturers bought out instant film cameras, though as we shall see Polaroid were not about to give up their market dominance without a fight.

The Kodak EK2 dates from 1977 and was quickly dubbed ‘The Handle’ because of the large handgrip. It’s very easy to use, pop in a 10-shot PR10 pack, crank the handle and its ready to go, the film number is shown in a small window on the back. To take a shot frame your subject in the optical viewfinder, pull back on the large blue shutter button on the right side, crank the handle and out comes the print, which develops in daylight in a couple of minutes.

If the picture was too light or dark there’s a crude exposure control on the lens, operated by a thumbwheel. Indoors or in the dark you clipped on a Flip Flash, which contains a set of 10 flashbulbs. Like the Flashcube it was a brilliant way of extorting money from users, with Flip Flash bars costing several times as much as the equivalent number of single-shot flashbulbs.

What Happened to It?

Kodak’s dalliance with Instant Film cameras lasted from 1976 to 1986 and was brought to an abrupt end following a two-year lawsuit bought against the company by Polaroid, for infringing its patents. Part of the ruling was that Kodak had to stop production and compensate stranded camera owners. Anyone who owned one could return it to Kodak in return for a cash, coupons and rebates. This meant that although millions of them were made relatively few are still in circulation. Unfortunately there’s little or no possibility of this or any other Kodak instant camera ever working again but makes an interesting addition to any gadget collection. Good examples, complete with case and accessories can only increase in value.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1977

Original Price £40

Value Today? £20

Features: 10-shot Instant camera, manual ‘lighten-darken’ exposure control, 10-shot ‘Flashbar/Flipflash’, manual wind

Power req. 6V ‘J’ Battery

Weight: 0.8kg (ex film pack)

Dimensions: 140 x 175 x 140 mm

Made in: England

Hen’s Teeth (10 rarest): 6

Kodak Instamatic Camera & Magicubes 1972

Two for the price of one this week with the Kodak Instamatic 56X and the ‘Magicube’. The Instamatic camera range started in 1963 and was the first commercially successful attempt to create a totally idiot-proof camera using a drop in film cartridge. The ‘126’ cartridge was fully enclosed and all you had to do was pop it in the back of the camera, wind it on, point and shoot.

It all sounds a bit obvious now but before then you had to faff around with roll film, threading it onto a roller that more often than not didn’t wind the film on properly. 126 Instamatics remained tremendously popular for more than 10 years. The 56X was nothing special, just one of hundreds of very basic fixed focus and exposure manual wind cameras made by Kodak and countless other manufacturers but because they were so cheap and cheerful they were regarded as semi-disposable so probably not that many have survived.

The amazing Magicube really deserves its own Dustygizmo slot. What makes Magicubes really clever is the fact that they are pyrotechnic, rather than electrical devices. As you probably know one-shot flashbulbs are filled with a fine magnesium ribbon that’s ‘fired’ by passing a small current through an element. This heats up the magnesium so that it burns and gives off a brilliant flash of light. Magicubes were more like small fireworks. They are fired by the camera pressing a pin in the base of the bulb. It works a bit like striking a match, setting off the magnesium in the bulb. It’s simple, reliable (mostly) and there’s no need for batteries. More importantly for Kodak and the other manufacturers they were very profitable as they cost several times as much as ordinary flashbulbs

What happened to it?

Magicubes were always a bit of a con, most users disliked them because they were expensive and incredibly wasteful and they all but disappeared when cheap electronic flash systems were developed.

Sales of 126 Instamatics had started to tail off by the early 1970s so Kodak introduced the 110 cartridge format in 1973, which enabled cameras to be made even smaller and cuter. After an initial burst of interest that too started to wane, so Kodak’s next attempt to maintain their market share was the ‘Disc’ camera format in 1982 (pencilled in for a future Gadget of the Week). It didn’t do very well and by that time first generation digital still cameras were just starting to appear.

Kodak never saw it coming and plugged away with its core photographic film business and in 1994 it introduced its last gasp effort, the clever but ultimately doomed APS format. But by then it was too late, digital photography had started to take off, Kodak belatedly jumped aboard the bandwagon but it lost out by being so slow and it has seen its film camera business virtually disappear. But relics like these live on and are becoming collectable, especially the more elaborate Instamatics; there was even an SLR type. Look out too for Disc cameras; because of the format’s lack of popularity and relatively short life they are comparatively rare and good examples could become a worthwhile investment. Check out the Kodak Classics website for everything you ever wanted to know about these cameras

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1972

Original Price c £20

Value Today? £1

Features: Fixed focus f/11, 43mm lens, 1/50th sec shutter, manual wind, Magicube socket, optical viewfinder

Power req. n/a

Weight: 200g

Dimensions: 110 x 65 x 60 (very approx)

Made in: England

Rarity: 4 (1 = common, 10 = Hen's teeth)

Nimslo 3D Camera 1980

Named after its US inventors, Dr Jerry Nims and Allan Lo, the Nimslo camera was one of the most successful attempts at a 3D photographic system to date. Prototypes were developed in the late 1970s and it finally went on sale in 1980 for around £80; the cameras were built in the UK, by Timex Ltd. at its Dundee plant.

It’s an ingenious design and one of the key selling points was that it used ordinary 35mm film. When you click the shutter it takes four images through each of its four lenses. The horizantal distance between the lenses -- the outer ones are spaced approximately to equal to that of our own eyes -- means that each image is taken from very slightly different angle to it neighbour. The really clever part, though, is in the processing. The four images are layered one on top of each other, and on top of that is a thin, grooved transparent film, called a ‘Lenticular’ screen. The grooves act like prisms, so as you alter the angle of the print you see the different layers, giving a strong impression of depth. It’s a bit like one of those toy badges, where the image changes as you move it

What Happened to it?

Nimslo prints could look spectacular but it took practice to get it just right as you had to pose your subjects and any objects in the field of view to ensure that they were at the optimum distances from the lens, to get the full 3D effect.

Unfortunately only a couple of laboratories were able to handle the special process; it took weeks, sometimes months to get a film developed and it was eye-wateringly expensive. The camera limped on for around 10 years, sustained by a small band of devotees, but it simply cost too much and it was never going to be become a mass-market product. A specialist company in Canada still provides a processing service for Nimslo film and a number of the other 3D cameras that have come (and mostly) gone over the years. If you would like to know more about this fascinating topic pop along to stereoscopy.com.

GIZMO GUIDE

First seen: 1980

Original Price £80

Value Today? £100

Features: Continuously variable electronically controlled shutter, fixed focus (1:5 6/30mm) lenses, 35mm film 100 - 400 ASA, manual wind and rewind, flash hot shoe, cable release socket, double exposure prevention

Power req. 2 x alkaline button cells

Weight: 0.35kg (ex batteries)

Dimensions: 137 x 74 x 43(very approx)

Made in: UK

Rarity: 8 (1 = common, 10 = Hen's teeth)

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