Archive for category Photography & Images
One of my Wyze V2 cameras either arrived with dead IR hardware or failed early on in its tenure here, but it simply didn’t work in night-vision mode: the IR LEDs didn’t turn on and the IR-cut filter didn’t move. Neither the Official Wyze App nor the Xiaomi-Dafang Hacks firmware had any effect, so I expected a (possibly simple) hardware problem.
The first hint of trouble was finding the case had only one of the two screws securing its bottom lid, with the missing screw having never been installed. Removing the single screw and prying a bit popped the lid, revealing the innards:
The rear panel (on the right) comes off after abusing the snaps holding it to the main case:
That’s best done with a small, designated Prydriver, rather than a screwdriver to which you have a deep emotional attachment.
The corresponding part of the main body shows less abuse:
The black patch is the WiFi antenna, which you must unplug from the top board before going much further.
The small blue wedge below the antenna gave me hope I’d found the root of the IR problem:
Everybody has trouble with those delicate ribbon cable socket clamps!
While I had the case open, I extracted everything and looked it over:
The IR LED soldering left a bit to be desired, so I touched up those joints and washed off most of the flux.
Alas, the IR hardware still didn’t work with everything stuffed back in the case. There are worse things than having a small daylight-only IP camera, though.
So it goes …
Another attempt at replacing the Wyze camera firmware went much more smoothly, producing a pair of small cameras with better network manners:
That’s a VLC screen capture from the RTSP stream; obviously, I must up my clutter control game.
I resized the partition to 32 GB, installed the firmware (per the FAQ) into the root directory, tweaked the configuration files to match my situation, popped it in the camera, plugged the power cable, and It Just Worked™.
Herewith, a checklist of
config directory files requiring tweakage:
wpa_supplicant– WiFi SSID and password
timezone.conf– America/New_York for us
osd.conf– can be tweaked through the Web interface
staticip.conf– 192.168.1.11x, as you like
resolve.conf– pihole or router IP, as needed
defaultgw.conf– router IP
rtspserver.conf– different ports for additional cameras
It would be possible to have the pihole’s DHCP server assign a fixed IP address to each camera, based on its MAC address, but this way the camera knows who it is right from the start and what it’s supposed to be doing.
The router isn’t bright enough to route different port numbers on its Internet side to different LAN IP addresses with the same port address, so each camera must stream from a different port number. I don’t plan many world-available video streams, but a friend does enjoy watching the birds during feeder season.
With the RTSP stream up & running, I flashed the U-Boot bootloader (again, minus drama) and tweaked its
uEnv.txt configuration file:
- Change the memory layout to allow 1920×1080 video
- ethaddr – set to match hardware MAC address
- gateway – router IP
- ipaddr – match the staticip.conf value
- serverip – router IP (unclear what this does)
The cameras now produce no objectionable network activity, dramatically down from the Wyze firmware’s desperate attempts to contact various servers, every five minutes, around the clock. I have no way of tracking connections made with direct dotted-quad IP addresses, rather than through the pihole, but … this is a distinct improvement.
Having won an eBay action for a known-dead Sony DSC-F717 at $0.99 (plus $15 shipping, the seller being no fool), I now have a possibly salvageable camera, a Genuine Sony AC supply, and two more NP-FM50 batteries for about the price of any one of the components.
One battery arrived stone-cold dead, suggesting the camera had been put away with the battery installed for a very long time and they died companionably. The camera still charges a (good) battery, even though it doesn’t turn on, and perusing the schematics suggests checking the power switch, because it’s always the switch contacts. That’s for another day, though.
For the record, the battery status:
The red and green traces come from the two batteries I’ve been cycling through the camera since, um, 2003, so they’re getting on in years and correspondingly low in capacity.
The fourth battery (2019 D, the date showing when it arrived, not its manufacturing date) went from “fully charged” to “dead” in about three seconds with a 500 mA load, producing the nearly invisible purple trace dropping straight down along the Y axis.
Now, there’s a name to conjure with. Turns out Sony sold off its Fukushima battery business a while back, so these must be collectibles. Who knew?
The lower cell is lifeless, the upper cell may still have some capacity. Three pairs of 18500 lithium cells are on their way, in the expectation of rebuilding the weakest packs.
After desoldering the battery tab on the right from the PCB, it occurred to me I needed pictures:
Yeah, that’s a nasty melted spot on the case, due to inept solder-wickage.
Unsoldering the three tabs closest to the case releases the cells + PCB from confinement:
I’m still bemused by battery packs with a microcontroller, even though all lithium packs require serious charge controllers. At least this is an Atmel 8-bitter, rather than 32-bit ARM hotness with, yo, WiFi.
The cells have shaped tabs which will require some gimmicking to reproduce:
Now, if only I could reboot the camera …
Having recently acquired a pair of photo lights and desirous of eliminating some desktop clutter, I decided this ancient incandescent (!) magnifying desk lamp had outlived its usefulness:
The styrene plastic shell isn’t quite so yellowed in real life, but it’s close.
Stripping off the frippery reveals the tilt stem on the arm:
The photo lights have a tilt-pan mount intended for a camera’s cold (or hot) shoe, so I conjured an adapter from the vasty digital deep:
Printing with a brim improved platform griptivity:
Fortunately, the photo lights aren’t very heavy and shouldn’t apply too much stress to the layers across the joint between the stem and the cold shoe. Enlarging the stem perpendicular to the shoe probably didn’t make much difference, but it was easy enough.
Of course, you (well, I) always forget a detail in the first solid model, so I had to mill recesses around the screw hole to clear the centering bosses in the metal arm plates:
Which let it fit perfectly into the arm:
The grody threads on the upper surface around the end of the slot came from poor bridging across a hexagon, so the new version has a simple and tity flat end. The slot is mostly invisible with the tilt-pan adapter in place, anyway.
There being no need for a quick-disconnect fitting, a 1/4-20 button head screw locks the adapter in place:
I stripped the line cord from inside the arm struts and zip-tied the photo lamp’s wall wart cable to the outside:
And then It Just Works™:
The lens and its retaining clips now live in the Big Box o’ Optical parts, where it may come in handy some day.
The OpenSCAD source code as a GitHub Gist:
The original dimension doodles, made before I removed the stem and discovered the recesses around the screw hole:
A loud rat-a-tat-a-tat drew our attention to a Pileated Woodpecker excavating a tree along Rt 376:
Pileated woodpeckers sculpt their holes with great care, often inspecting their work for smoothness and, perhaps, lunch:
Those holes go deep enough inside the tree to serve as shelters for smaller birds during storms.
We occasionally see and hear them, as well as their smaller relatives, remodeling trees around the house. Good hunting!
Taken with the Pixel XL zoomed all the way tight, cropped and sharpened a smidge.
Once again, the Memory Stick socket cable in my trusty DSC-F717 camera became erratic, leading to continuous C:13:01 “format error” crashes, so I tore it apart. Proceed as before, until the camera carcass disgorges the socket:
Gently pry the metal cover outward to clear the latches along the sides:
The cover remains held in place by two tabs inside the holes on either side of the Memory Stick contacts, one of which is already free in the previous photo:
The small spring on the left ejects the Memory Stick and will, if suitably provoked, launch itself across the bench. Be prepared!
Use a pointy instrument to ease those tabs away from their latches and pop the top:
I cleaned the contacts, not that they appeared particularly filthy, gently bent them upward by three micro-smidgens to apply a bit more pressure to the card’s contacts, and reassembled the socket in reverse order.
I put a strip of Kapton tape on the back of the cable termination paddle (shown here during the previous repair) to ensure a snug fit:
Unfortunately, I snapped off a locking tab on one of the ribbon cable connections to the main board:
The cable threads through the middle of the clamp, which then slides into the socket and applies pressure to the contacts through the cable: no clamp, no pressure, no good.
For lack of anything smarter, I tamped the clamp into the socket and applied a strip of Kapton tape to maintain everything in more-or-less the right position:
Definitely unpretty, but better than nothing. While I was in there, I reinforced the other connections with similar clamps.
Reassemble the camera in reverse order and it’s all good:
It probably won’t last another decade, but ya never know …
Spotted in Lake Walton on an out-and-back ride to the Hopewell Junction Depot end of the rail trail:
Mary counted & guesstimated fifty turtles in the backwater.
They’re the snuggliest turtles I’ve ever seen:
Taken with the Pixel XL at maximum zoom, hence the gritty overpixelization.