The Making of the Windy City Gigapan

Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale. The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion. The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors. Image credit: Carlos Nascimento
Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale. The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion. The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors.
Image credit: Carlos Nascimento

In my previous post, I discussed the gigapan of Windy City. However, the making of that gigapan was quite the adventure in field work.

After the Azorella Peninsula gigapan, the unit was packed up and taken back aboard the Braveheart for a trip to the southeast portion of the island. Rough north winds were expected, and with no protection afforded against those winds and swells from Atlas Cove, the ship had to move. Our expedition leader and two scientists not involved in the radio operations left camp and went to ride out the storm south of Stephenson Lagoon. At that time, it had become clear that I personally would not be able to go to Stephenson Lagoon—an area which was an extremely high priority for a gigapan image. I put fresh batteries into the gigapan mount, and sent it on its way. Sadly, in the almost four hours the team had on the shores of Stephenson Lagoon, they did not have an opportunity to take a gigapan. I’ll have to go back for that one!

Upon their return to camp, I knew since they had not attempted any gigapanning that there were fresh batteries in the unit. As the end of the expedition drew near, it was time to get the gigapan done at Windy City. Mid-morning, Carlos joined me for a trip to the outcrop (about 1.4 km each way). Although we didn’t have a bright sunny day, it was dry with a temperature around 5 °C. When we reached the outcrop and everything was set up, I turned on the gigapan mount. Nothing happened. With new batteries and a limited task, I hadn’t brought the whole kit with me. We headed back to camp, arriving in time for lunch.

Several of the rechargeable batteries I had for the gigapan had been sitting on the charger and were ready to go. I tossed those into the battery holder, put it under my arm to keep warm, and headed out with Carlos once again. At the outcrop I set up the rig again. When everything was set to go, I removed the batteries from inside my jacket, and put them into their slot. I powered it on. The LCD display brightened, but displayed an error message: Button-pusher disconnected or plugged in backwards. Cycling the power on and off didn’t fix it. Everything was as it had been before when it worked. Once again, this was a problem I was unable to deal with at the outcrop.

Back in camp, Carlos looked online for a solution while I tried to see if anything was likely to have come disconnected, although our team had been very gentle with the unit. Nothing stood out. Eventually we found online that the error is commonly caused not by a disconnected or backwards button-pusher, but by a low voltage. That made a bit more sense. Out came the volt-meter, and two sets of six AA alkaline batteries were verified to be fresh. One set went into the battery holder, the other went into a storage case. Now that it was late in the afternoon, Carlos had to report for radio duty, but Adam was willing to come with me—I needed this gigapan before the light died, as there was no guarantee that I would have the weather conditions or time to get it later.

Adam and I hurried over to the outcrop, the light already beginning to fade. I set up quickly, got the batteries out from my jacket, and set up the gigapan.

Please, light, stay with us long enough to complete this shot. Please, batteries, keep up your voltage!

It was clear from the beginning that the shot would not be truly completed. Somewhere in the middle either the light would die or the batteries would. Eventually, both did at about the same time. We quickly put everything back into the packs and headed back for camp. It was getting dark, but we arrived just in time for dinner and the start of my shift at the radio desk.

Although it was too late to be of use, I asked on Twitter what some of the other cold-weather folks had done about their gigapans. By the end of my four-hour radio shift, I had responses from @rschott and @callanbentley. Evidently this is a common problem, which is fought by insulating the gigapan unit as well as possible, and using hand/toe-warmers to add a little heat.

I think it’s time to ask Gigapan to make some design adjustments to improve the cold-weather operation of the units. It wasn’t all that cold where I was gigapanning, yet I still couldn’t get 15 minutes of operation on fresh batteries at 3–5 °C.

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