Apparently it belonged to my Great Uncle Garth, who, legend would have it, was one of like, a billion kids.
I had been playing around with taking pics of White Island, hoping it would blow up while I was watching. Alas, no luck quite yet.
After far too long playing around on photoshop trying to align these suckers, I produced this:
And thought, shit - I wish we had a tripod. Turns out, we do. Two even; a mini one, and a beastly huge, ancient, perfect one.
So first this:
And then this:
Which I made over the whole afternoon, setting my alarm for first 15 and then 10 minutes while watching Return of the King. I had the tripod set up on the balcony, properly this time, and out of the wind.
Went out for dinner with my lovely grandmother so I didn't catch the whole of the tide recession, it goes out quite a bit further still.
And you can see how much my OCD tendencies hate the jump from beginning to end, so I copied and inverted the order of the photos in each set, so yes - everything here swings backwards and forwards without the natural progression of time. Its an Ohope thing.