It is almost exactly 3 years since I reviewed Meopta’s MeoStar B1 10x42 HD so when the opportunity came to borrow the new B1.1 10x42 HD I jumped at it. As reported elsewhere, there are no big changes between B1 and B1.1, the upgrades being a lockable dioptre adjuster and an extra eyecup position midway between fully up and fully down.
Lifting up a B1.1 there is the familiar heft to the 42mm versions and the 10x42 is no exception. The shape of the optical tubes remains unchanged and as comfortable as ever. The rubber armour has a classy feel to it, with just enough surface texture to provide a good, secure grip, and the eyecups move between positions with a feeling of precision. The extra position is a welcome if modest increase in adjustability.
What about the new lockable dioptre? Pull up the dioptre wheel and make your adjustment, push it in and it locks in position. After nearly 3 weeks of slipping and sliding over wet rocks and seaweed, of scrambling over and around lichen encrusted boulders and every other kind of Scottish west-coast obstacle, during which the MeoStars were occasionally jammed under my armpit or thrust inside my jacket, or laid on while ground-level photography was undertaken, I can guarantee you that the dioptre setting is reliable and an improvement on the B1’s arrangement. Note however that the dioptre wheel does not pull out very far, nor does it engage its new extended position with any kind of click. The same applies when pushing it back in. I would have preferred something that felt and sounded a bit more positive, but this is surely nit-picking taken to an extreme, given that the system works so effectively, and a red ring under the wheel is always visible when the wheel is pulled out, giving ample visible warning that you have not yet pushed the wheel back home. In the first photo below, the bino furthest away has the dioptre adjuster pulled out and the red ring is visible.
The ocular guard, or rain-guard, only attaches to the neck-strap at one side and regular visitors here will know that I feel that I prefer an attachment on both sides, which also allows those happy with single-side attachment to choose left-hand or right-hand side. I like to attach both sides because in the rain you only need to slide the guard down the straps to the eyecups and the guard is automatically adjusted to your IPD by the distance between the straps and the guard slips over the eyecups quickly and easily. Not only does this minimise the rain getting on the ocular and spoiling the view, it minimises the temptation to wipe the rain off and possibly scratch the oculars with whatever dust was on them.
The 10x42 is billed as HD, so the obvious question is does it manage chromatic aberration better than the 8x42 which does not even claim ED status? To answer this I tested both 8x42 and 10x42 side-by-side against a variety of high-contrast subjects, including dark ones against white cloud, and this soon demonstrated that the 10x42 HD would have its work cut out to better the 8x, which is outstandingly good at CA control. In fact I had to work hard to spot CA through the 8x42, only finding it easy to find when having my eyes off the optical axis when trying to examine the field edge. With eyes in the normal position I could only find a slight amount at the field edge. And, yes, this was reduced in the 10x42 to a level you almost had to imagine into existence to be able to see it at all. For all practical purposes you can forget CA with either of these binos, and although the 10x42 was the better performer, it wasn’t enough for me to wish that Meopta offered an 8x42 HD.
Optically, the view through the 10x42 is a sweet balance of clear detail, brightness and natural colour, and they delivered beautiful views of a range of subjects.
While searching an upper shore for signs of Otters, a Buzzard floated clumsily down towards dwarf trees occupying the side of a ravine cutting into a hill overlooking the sea. Its plumage was pale and loose, every shade of biscuit, and as it approached the trees it flapped its wings madly to slow down, and dropped its legs, which dangled randomly as it crash-landed onto a branch. The adult following it swept in cleanly with no fuss, and landed nearby with poise and grace. Clearly the youngster had a lot to learn about the random gusts of west Scotland coastal winds. On the following day, on the opposite side of the hill, what could have been the same juvenile Buzzard, was hanging on the updraft above a modest cliff and making a decent job of it until two Ravens glided alongside. Do birds have a sense of humour? Probably not, but if any do, these two Ravens had it. They too hung on the updraft but with wings and tail making the smallest of movements, while the Buzzard needed more sudden flirtings of its tail and wingtips. One Raven side-slipped closer, and the Buzzard did a half-roll and dropped its legs, opening its talons. The Raven side-slipped away a tiny bit and to my surprise, both Ravens then dropped their legs and dangled them, looking for all the world as if they were teasing or mocking the Buzzard. By the way neither of these two big black birds, set against a background of white clouds, had any chromatic aberration around them. At this point the Buzzard sheared off and, followed by one of the Ravens, it disappeared from sight. And what did the remaining Raven do? It did a half-roll onto its back and floated there, upside-down for maybe 2 seconds before effortlessly returning to the right-way up and glided away, calling raucously, and being answered by the other, out-of-sight Raven. We shouldn’t ascribe human motivations and emotions to birds and animals but this little encounter was very tempting in this respect. Throughout these incidents the MeoStars delivered an impeccable clean sharp view.
Earlier in the year we had been delighted to find that several pairs of Common Sandpipers (relatives of North America’s Spotted Sandpiper) had returned from migration and settled along the coast where we stay. On this visit, their breeding was over and only few individuals were left but the 10x42s captured their striking wing-bars as they flew a short distance away from us with their wings characteristically bowed downwards, and seeming to propel the birds by vibrating rather than flapping. The juveniles have quite complex mantle markings and the MeoStars did full justice to the details.
During these encounters we were subjected to variable and gusting coastal winds, good for keeping the biting midges at bay, but not always good for holding 10x binoculars steady, however I found their heft kept them steadier than I expected on the worst days.
The other regular wader on our coast, apart from the ever-present Oystercatchers, was a Redshank that visited the inlet outside our cottage, at the same state of tide, on most days. From our experience of them in south-east England, we know they can be very noisy, but up here they seem to defer to the sometimes-deafening Oystercatchers. Our regular visitor was quiet and went about its business on bright-orange legs and when it took to the air, revealed large white wing-patches and a vee of white up its back. The MeoStar made a fine job of its face pattern and mantle markings.
And then we had two startling sightings. The first was a warbler that out of nowhere fluttered down to land on a fence post near where we were enjoying a late-afternoon glass of wine (Chablis) in the sunshine. Large, for a warbler, unmarked at first glance, but through the MeoStars I quickly saw the large white throat-patch and brown patch on the wings with dark markings on the tertials: a juvenile Whitethroat. We saw adults nearby in the spring but we have never seen a Whitethroat on a fence before so raised our glasses to thank it. These kinds of birds are often called ‘little brown jobs’, which makes them sound dull, but through the MeoStars the subtlety of the plumage was beautiful.
However, the star of the show for us, beating the Sea Eagles into second-place simply because we often see them, was a duck in winter plumage. It was bouncing up and down on a choppy sea, disappearing behind wave-crests and only giving occasional glimpses of an unusual head pattern. Dark crown, white face with a large dark patch low on the ‘cheeks’ and somewhat towards the nape of the neck. It took a while for these details to become apparent through the MeoStars, due to the choppy sea and gusting wind, but eventually it became clear we had a female Long-tailed Duck. Not exactly a rarity but a rare sighting for us, and I thanked the 10x42s for snagging the identification for us.
As you have gathered I really enjoyed these MeoStars, but what are the down-sides? I have mentioned the ocular guard / rainguard, but I swapped that out for another brand more to my taste. These binos are on the heavy side but actually this was a benefit on some windy days as it reduced wind-provoked bino-shake, and actually, I never noticed their weight when walking with them, only when looking at the specifications on the Meopta website. This might be a good point to tell you that when I handed the binos to Troubadoris, the first thing she said was ‘these are heavy’, then ‘aren’t they really clear?’ and finally,’ they are heavy but they are really comfortable to hold despite the weight’. Troubadoris is not a bino-freak like me so this amounts to high praise. What about the dioptre adjuster that didn’t have a very positive feel either when pulled out or when pushed back down? All I can say is that I reset the dioptre umpteen times (umpteen is our local dialect for more than ‘several’, but less than ‘many’) and it never failed to work correctly and when set, it proved absolutely reliable. So, it does what it says on the tin, what more can you ask?
And their optical performance? Beautifully transparent and balanced, a pleasure to use.
Lee
Lifting up a B1.1 there is the familiar heft to the 42mm versions and the 10x42 is no exception. The shape of the optical tubes remains unchanged and as comfortable as ever. The rubber armour has a classy feel to it, with just enough surface texture to provide a good, secure grip, and the eyecups move between positions with a feeling of precision. The extra position is a welcome if modest increase in adjustability.
What about the new lockable dioptre? Pull up the dioptre wheel and make your adjustment, push it in and it locks in position. After nearly 3 weeks of slipping and sliding over wet rocks and seaweed, of scrambling over and around lichen encrusted boulders and every other kind of Scottish west-coast obstacle, during which the MeoStars were occasionally jammed under my armpit or thrust inside my jacket, or laid on while ground-level photography was undertaken, I can guarantee you that the dioptre setting is reliable and an improvement on the B1’s arrangement. Note however that the dioptre wheel does not pull out very far, nor does it engage its new extended position with any kind of click. The same applies when pushing it back in. I would have preferred something that felt and sounded a bit more positive, but this is surely nit-picking taken to an extreme, given that the system works so effectively, and a red ring under the wheel is always visible when the wheel is pulled out, giving ample visible warning that you have not yet pushed the wheel back home. In the first photo below, the bino furthest away has the dioptre adjuster pulled out and the red ring is visible.
The ocular guard, or rain-guard, only attaches to the neck-strap at one side and regular visitors here will know that I feel that I prefer an attachment on both sides, which also allows those happy with single-side attachment to choose left-hand or right-hand side. I like to attach both sides because in the rain you only need to slide the guard down the straps to the eyecups and the guard is automatically adjusted to your IPD by the distance between the straps and the guard slips over the eyecups quickly and easily. Not only does this minimise the rain getting on the ocular and spoiling the view, it minimises the temptation to wipe the rain off and possibly scratch the oculars with whatever dust was on them.
The 10x42 is billed as HD, so the obvious question is does it manage chromatic aberration better than the 8x42 which does not even claim ED status? To answer this I tested both 8x42 and 10x42 side-by-side against a variety of high-contrast subjects, including dark ones against white cloud, and this soon demonstrated that the 10x42 HD would have its work cut out to better the 8x, which is outstandingly good at CA control. In fact I had to work hard to spot CA through the 8x42, only finding it easy to find when having my eyes off the optical axis when trying to examine the field edge. With eyes in the normal position I could only find a slight amount at the field edge. And, yes, this was reduced in the 10x42 to a level you almost had to imagine into existence to be able to see it at all. For all practical purposes you can forget CA with either of these binos, and although the 10x42 was the better performer, it wasn’t enough for me to wish that Meopta offered an 8x42 HD.
Optically, the view through the 10x42 is a sweet balance of clear detail, brightness and natural colour, and they delivered beautiful views of a range of subjects.
While searching an upper shore for signs of Otters, a Buzzard floated clumsily down towards dwarf trees occupying the side of a ravine cutting into a hill overlooking the sea. Its plumage was pale and loose, every shade of biscuit, and as it approached the trees it flapped its wings madly to slow down, and dropped its legs, which dangled randomly as it crash-landed onto a branch. The adult following it swept in cleanly with no fuss, and landed nearby with poise and grace. Clearly the youngster had a lot to learn about the random gusts of west Scotland coastal winds. On the following day, on the opposite side of the hill, what could have been the same juvenile Buzzard, was hanging on the updraft above a modest cliff and making a decent job of it until two Ravens glided alongside. Do birds have a sense of humour? Probably not, but if any do, these two Ravens had it. They too hung on the updraft but with wings and tail making the smallest of movements, while the Buzzard needed more sudden flirtings of its tail and wingtips. One Raven side-slipped closer, and the Buzzard did a half-roll and dropped its legs, opening its talons. The Raven side-slipped away a tiny bit and to my surprise, both Ravens then dropped their legs and dangled them, looking for all the world as if they were teasing or mocking the Buzzard. By the way neither of these two big black birds, set against a background of white clouds, had any chromatic aberration around them. At this point the Buzzard sheared off and, followed by one of the Ravens, it disappeared from sight. And what did the remaining Raven do? It did a half-roll onto its back and floated there, upside-down for maybe 2 seconds before effortlessly returning to the right-way up and glided away, calling raucously, and being answered by the other, out-of-sight Raven. We shouldn’t ascribe human motivations and emotions to birds and animals but this little encounter was very tempting in this respect. Throughout these incidents the MeoStars delivered an impeccable clean sharp view.
Earlier in the year we had been delighted to find that several pairs of Common Sandpipers (relatives of North America’s Spotted Sandpiper) had returned from migration and settled along the coast where we stay. On this visit, their breeding was over and only few individuals were left but the 10x42s captured their striking wing-bars as they flew a short distance away from us with their wings characteristically bowed downwards, and seeming to propel the birds by vibrating rather than flapping. The juveniles have quite complex mantle markings and the MeoStars did full justice to the details.
During these encounters we were subjected to variable and gusting coastal winds, good for keeping the biting midges at bay, but not always good for holding 10x binoculars steady, however I found their heft kept them steadier than I expected on the worst days.
The other regular wader on our coast, apart from the ever-present Oystercatchers, was a Redshank that visited the inlet outside our cottage, at the same state of tide, on most days. From our experience of them in south-east England, we know they can be very noisy, but up here they seem to defer to the sometimes-deafening Oystercatchers. Our regular visitor was quiet and went about its business on bright-orange legs and when it took to the air, revealed large white wing-patches and a vee of white up its back. The MeoStar made a fine job of its face pattern and mantle markings.
And then we had two startling sightings. The first was a warbler that out of nowhere fluttered down to land on a fence post near where we were enjoying a late-afternoon glass of wine (Chablis) in the sunshine. Large, for a warbler, unmarked at first glance, but through the MeoStars I quickly saw the large white throat-patch and brown patch on the wings with dark markings on the tertials: a juvenile Whitethroat. We saw adults nearby in the spring but we have never seen a Whitethroat on a fence before so raised our glasses to thank it. These kinds of birds are often called ‘little brown jobs’, which makes them sound dull, but through the MeoStars the subtlety of the plumage was beautiful.
However, the star of the show for us, beating the Sea Eagles into second-place simply because we often see them, was a duck in winter plumage. It was bouncing up and down on a choppy sea, disappearing behind wave-crests and only giving occasional glimpses of an unusual head pattern. Dark crown, white face with a large dark patch low on the ‘cheeks’ and somewhat towards the nape of the neck. It took a while for these details to become apparent through the MeoStars, due to the choppy sea and gusting wind, but eventually it became clear we had a female Long-tailed Duck. Not exactly a rarity but a rare sighting for us, and I thanked the 10x42s for snagging the identification for us.
As you have gathered I really enjoyed these MeoStars, but what are the down-sides? I have mentioned the ocular guard / rainguard, but I swapped that out for another brand more to my taste. These binos are on the heavy side but actually this was a benefit on some windy days as it reduced wind-provoked bino-shake, and actually, I never noticed their weight when walking with them, only when looking at the specifications on the Meopta website. This might be a good point to tell you that when I handed the binos to Troubadoris, the first thing she said was ‘these are heavy’, then ‘aren’t they really clear?’ and finally,’ they are heavy but they are really comfortable to hold despite the weight’. Troubadoris is not a bino-freak like me so this amounts to high praise. What about the dioptre adjuster that didn’t have a very positive feel either when pulled out or when pushed back down? All I can say is that I reset the dioptre umpteen times (umpteen is our local dialect for more than ‘several’, but less than ‘many’) and it never failed to work correctly and when set, it proved absolutely reliable. So, it does what it says on the tin, what more can you ask?
And their optical performance? Beautifully transparent and balanced, a pleasure to use.
Lee
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) is the Common Kestrel. In gusty winds or when Crows or Magpies attempt to steal their prey they really show their flying skills. It's then that the Kestrel makes these otherwise intelligent birds look rather stupid!
