Fluorescent lights peel back from the walls like caterpillars, rearing up and away from the glare of the sunflower-fans.
I really like the way this high-ceilinged room is decaying. Well, decayed. It’s demolished now.
From the highest roof of Ogvilvie’s, Thunder Bay looks like paradise.
I tried to hide the graffiti from my photos, but sometimes it wasn’t possible.
Sprays of water kept the muddy mixture flowing across the sluices, which filtered out gold particles from gravel and dirty.
Looking into the Pool 8 Annex from the original Ogilvie’s elevator.
A huge steel tank, one of several left over, left over from either the Ashland Oil or Allied Chemical periods.
End of the paint line. After reading Father Action’s excellent-as-always writeup about his adventures here, I was pretty cautious around big spinning alarms. (See http://www.actionsquad.org/fordII1.html)
This giant gear’s sole purpose was to turn the ship’s single rudder in all conditions.