Drowning The Drone
In January, desperate to find a location to take photos during the dull circumstance of winter, I brought the drone to Pine Grove, the settlement north of Toronto where I grew up.
The Humber River, where I once played and swam in my childhood summers, was now half wet slippery ice and half cold rushing water. I decided to fly the drone above its surface toward Blue Banks, a favorite childhood climbing place.
In the river valley, the bright winter sun illuminated the trees and snow on the west side with intense brightness, which closed down my pupils.
On the other side, by contrast, everything was in deep shadow, and I could hardly make out anything – including a dark tree sticking out diagonally from the bank. Look harder at the picture below, and you’ll spot it. I didn’t.
A diagonal tree reaches out to drown the drone.
Apparently, the drone’s protection system didn’t detect it either, because a mere second after I took this image, the drone ran into a twig hanging down from the branch.
It tumbled.
Then regained its equilibrium.
Then attempted to climb out of danger.
Then banged hard into the branch above it.
The propellers broke, and the drone tumbled into the middle of the river.
Appalled and anxious, I ran along the bank, slid down its steep edge, and began a nervous trek across ice and swirling water.
Moving slowly, gingerly, so as not to slip, constantly threatened by the inhospitable river, I managed to reach the drone. It was lying in a few inches of water, and I was able to move it to a drier location on the ice.
But its battery had separated, sitting underwater on the bottom. I flinched as I plunged my hand deep into the frigid current to retrieve it.
Now I had to return to the riverbank with my precious cargo. At any moment, my feet could slip and I’d be drenched. But I reached up to that accursed diagonal tree, and held onto the damned thing to help maintain my balance.
Climbing out of the river valley, feet and hands wet and cold, I hurried to the car and brought the drone home to dry out. There, I discovered that the battery was ruined.
A few days later, I was able to fly the drone successfully on another battery. Sadly, I discovered that the camera would no longer respond to my commands.
I took the aircraft to the drone hospital which ran diagnostics indicating that camera’s circuit board was wrecked. Worse news still, they told me that the manufacturer, DJI, was no longer supporting this model of drone.
So goodbye to the Phantom, my photographic companion for over four years.
The Phantom drone before its swim.
Apart from its ability as a camera platform, I have always seen the Phantom as a really appealing piece of engineering art.
However, I now had insurance money to put toward a new drone, and settled on the DJI Mavic 3 Classic. It boasts greatly improved camera and image processing, both created by the iconic Hasselblad of Sweden.
Mavic over the snow.
Frankly, the Mavic is nowhere as beautiful as the Phantom. In fact, I’d describe it as an ugly little bug. But it folds up into a tidy little package that’s far easier to transport.
The Mavic folds into a compact space.
And it takes really nice pictures, with better detail and less noise, even at night.
The Don Valley Parkway photographed by the Mavic.
Photographed by the Mavic, that’s the sparkling city in the distance to the south, Riverdale Park West bright with lights, and the Don Valley Parkway snaking across the image.
Docks in Winter, diagonal.
Here, during a snowstorm, the empty docks of Mimico Cruising Club form a pleasing geometry against the cold but still liquid water.
Footbridge over Mimico Creek.
Nearby, the curve of a pedestrian bridge is reflected in Mimico Creek.
Pedestrian bridge over the Humber, with supports.
Finally, here is the bridge across the Humber River, which welcomes walkers, runners, and riders. It’s the same river that drowned the drone, upstream. The geometry of the bridge’s supporting roof forms an unexpected geometrical delight, emphasized by low altitude aerial photography.
I’ll be out some more this season, getting familiar with the Mavic, but I’m sure looking forward to days when I can use it to photograph the brighter colors of Spring and Summer.
For now, I’m happy!
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