The Roma Synergy is a product of two important names in the world of high horology: Schwarz Etienne and Kari Voutilainen. It's a partnership between two leaders in distinct facets of the watch industry. Kari Voutilainen has earned a sterling reputation as a master of hand-finishing techniques, and he also creates dials that showcase a bevy of guilloché, enameling, and other techniques. He plays with color in a way that certainly has roots in traditional Swiss high horology, but adds something new to the conversation. While Schwarz Etienne might not be quite as visible as Voutilainen, it's a powerhouse in the industry behind the scenes. The company, over a century old, produces cutting-edge calibers both for its own watches, and others, like rising star MING.
The Roma is a staple dress watch in Schwarz Etienne's line-up that serves as the canvas for Voutilainen to apply his craft. Sized at a modest 39mm, the stainless steel case handsomely fits under a cuff with a height of 11mm. Inside is Schwarz Etienne's caliber ASE 200.00, featuring small seconds and a micro-rotor, something the manufacturer has come to specialize in. The micro-rotor sits flush with the movement plate, while still allowing a full 86-hour power reserve and a thin size.
Another interesting aspect of this particular micro-rotor movement that lends itself well to showcasing finishing is that it's basically almost a full-plate movement, so there's lots of real estate. The micro-rotor is decorated by Les Ateliers Kari Voutilainen, along with snailing and diamond drops on the ratchet wheel (the large visible wheel next to the micro-rotor). Additionally, the bridges are hand beveled. Black polished steel parts tie together the finishing. Black polishing is achieved by applying diamond paste on a tin plate and then, by hand, taking the part being finished and rubbing it on the tin plate until a mirror finish is achieved.
On the dial side, Voutilainen's signature guilloché is on full display. Part of the magic of the design is the way in which various rose-engine-turned patterns play with each other in a way that creates interesting contrast and depth. The Roma Synergy comes in two dial colors: ocean blue and sand grey. Every dial is treated to a number of contrasting finishes by hand on a rose-engine machine. A soleil (sun) pattern in the hour track frames the écaille de poisson (fish scale) pattern that constitutes most of the dial except for the small seconds, which is treated to a vague (wave) pattern.
The Schwarz Etienne name appears on a cartouche just below noon, while a silver plaque at six o'clock points to Voutilainen's role in the creation of this piece, of which 50 examples total will be made.
Initial Thoughts
It seemed like there wasn't a span longer than 30 minutes at the 2019 GPHG awards ceremony when Kari Voutilainen wasn't walking up to the stage to snag another award. And the Roma Synergy is exactly the type of watch that demonstrates why the community finds his work so exciting and refreshing. A signature aesthetic has come to define Voutilainen's work; it's a style that began when he started at Parmigiani Fleurier. He's since grown to become a darling of the independent world, sweeping the awards ceremonies. A Finn who relocated to Switzerland a number of decades ago, he's quiet, humble, and reserved in person – he lets his work speak for him. At a lunch with him and his daughter, Venla Voutilainen, a horological force in her own right, Kari told me that he gets a great deal of excitement and satisfaction from collaborating with customers and other watchmakers on designs. When I saw the Roma Synergy release, I immediately thought about how exciting of a project this must have been. There's a certain positivity about Voutilainen that's infectious. I suspect that's part of the charm that has spawned his cult following beyond his incredible work.
Collaborations at this level are already something of a rare occurrence, and to see Voutilainen pair up with a manufacturer like Schwarz Etienne is bound to drum up a great deal of interest among a very specific audience. Who knows, maybe he'll be walking up to snag another award for this very watch come GPHG season.
The Basics
Brand: Schwarz Etienne Model: Roma Synergy Reference Number: WROVMA03SSCUBCLTD-A
Diameter: 39mm Thickness: 11mm Case Material: Stainless Steel Dial Color: Ocean blue and sand grey Indexes: Arabic numerals and batons, applied Lume: Absent Water Resistance: 50m Strap/Bracelet: Leather strap
The Movement
Caliber: ASE 200.00 Functions: Hours, minutes, small seconds at six o'clock Power Reserve: 86 hours Winding: Micro-roto self-winding Frequency: 21,600 VPH Jewels: 33
Pricing & Availability
Price: CHF 29,500 with Swiss VAT or CHF 27,400 without it. Availability: Early October Limited Edition: Limited to 50 pieces total between the two dials variations.
This week's mix is as eclectic as ever, but jam-packed with elegant pieces guaranteed to stand the test of time. For the chronograph crowd, there's not one, but three, including a Tudor Monte Carlo Home Plate, a Universal Genève Compax, and the nicest gold Breitling Chronomat that you ever did see. And as always, we're keeping things interesting with a few picks from left field, like a Ref. 4643 Super Precision from Rolex, and a small, Favre-Leuba dive watch for the female market.
Breitling Chronomat Ref. 808
My horological fascination is rooted in the fact that something made up of so many finely crafted mechanical components is also capable of being hidden beneath a cuff, while serving a decently useful purpose in day-to-day life. Fuel was definitely added to the figurative fire upon learning of intricately executed complications, but over time, an appreciation for simpler routes to additional functionality developed. While it might not have involved a demanding, mechanical development, Breitling's Chronomat came into renown thanks to its patent-protected, slide-rule bezel. With top-quality examples becoming increasingly sought after with the passing of each year, it's safe to say that affording the capabilities of a combination chronograph and computer made some serious waves back in 1942.
After first becoming available for purchase in the aforementioned year, the Chronomat enjoyed a relatively long production run comprised of multiple references. The Ref. 808 entered the picture in 1959, modernizing the comparatively antiquated Ref. 769, but it's still instantly recognizable as a Chronomat thanks to that unmistakable slide-rule bezel. As evidenced by the presence of both an arrow-style marker at the 12 o'clock position and a "beaded" bezel, this particular example dates back to the second wave of Ref. 808 production in 1966, and what an attractive example it is in 18k yellow gold.
The way the design of the bezel, chamfered lugs, and rounded pushers interact is nothing short of genius on this watch, which is why it's such a treat to see one preserved so incredibly well. Every last line on the case remains sharp, along with every hallmark and engraving – still boldly visible. The same sort of cleanliness can be seen on the dial, which is essentially free of any flaws. I've seen a few pretty much perfect Chronomats in my day, but never one of this series cased in yellow gold, and I must say, it's got me thinking.
An eBay seller based out of Bethesda, Maryland, has this Breitling listed for $6,730. Additional photos can be found here.
Rolex Super Precision Ref. 4643
I like a good Daytona or GMT-Master as much as the next guy, but therein lies the issue for some. The way most see it is that these are iconic pieces for a reason, and by wearing one, you're getting in on the history of something special. For others, exclusivity matters, and as a result, the commonplace fare just won't do. On several occasions in the past, having that communicated to me broadened my horizons, forcing me to explore what else the brand had to offer. Here's to hoping this next piece will do the same for you.
You're looking at a decidedly different sort of Rolex, which corresponds with the reference number 4643. These emerged during the mid-1940s, which was a somewhat transitional period for the brand, but not in the usual roll-out-the-white-gold-surrounds sense, given that Rolex had yet to establish some of their most impactful collections. Nonetheless, it's nothing short of a stunning watch with an ornately shaped case that ought to satisfy Rolex-curious contrarians and enthusiasts of the mainstream alike. I'd say it boils down to it simply being a watch you rarely see pop up for sale, and that's just the sort of thing that gets collectors going.
Measuring 28mm across, you'd be forgiven for thinking it would feel diminutive on the wrist, when in fact, the reference wears quite well. Generally speaking, square-shaped watches tend to wear a bit more substantially by virtue of being square, and this one is no exception. Something to note with this example is the condition of its dial, which, although original, is showing signs of its age. The seller offering the watch has included a second, aftermarket dial should you wish to swap, but I'd advise sticking with the one first fitted to maintain the original charm of the watch.
An eBay seller in Singapore is offering this Rolex for $6,500. Hit the link for the full scoop.
1971 Tudor Oysterdate Ref. 7032/0
A perhaps more obvious path to take would be to venture in the direction of Tudor if you wanted in on the Wilsdorf scene while maintaining an air of individuality; though, I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't highlight how that now isn't entirely the case. That's because, over the past decade, we've seen the market for vintage and neo-vintage watches from the Rolex sister brand grow exponentially, making many once alternative choices now quite conventional and obvious. Despite this, there are a select few relics of the back catalog that still stand out.
It's not an early Big Crown, but it's definitely one of the more notable vintage Tudors that later become synonymous with the brand and its different approach to the hard-wearing tool watch. In this "Monte Carlo"-style configuration, featuring luminous indices reminiscent of baseball's home plate and a funky, 1970s color scheme, the Tudor chronograph is undoubtedly at its best, which the market would agree with. There's still an objective difference in the enthusiasm that surrounds the collecting of these as opposed to Daytonas, but interest in them certainly isn't decreasing any time soon.
This particular example is likely the nicest one on the market at the moment, and for that reason. If you've got a box, this piece checks it with a worn-though-unpolished case, clean dial, and still vibrant applications of orange found on the chronograph hand and outer tracing dial track. In other words, this is more or less what comes to mind upon mention of the reference, which is exactly what you want in an example of a watch like this. According to the seller, it apparently spent the last five years tucked away in a safe, so hopefully, it'll soon see the light of day on a more regular basis.
The Parisian dealer Harbor Watches has this Tudor listed for sale at €34,900. Do yourself a favor and get a closer look by clicking the link.
Favre-Leuba Ladies' Deep Blue
Some of my best finds to date have come from places you'd least expect to find a great watch, but that's not to say those places were gold mines from the get-go. Most of the time, the discovery of one such watch begins with the discovery of a lesser, though still compelling piece. The move isn't to get overexcited at first and pull the trigger, but to recognize the value of a good source and regularly keep tabs on their future offerings. That's what was going through my mind when I came across this piece that's to be sold by an Australian auction house.
Between all of the lively components that make up this watch, it's an absolute explosion of color. Ironically, the dial itself is a somewhat subdued grey and blue, but when traced by a red seconds hand and accented with a yellow checkerboard bezel, a louder look is the end result. It's a fun design that would surely turn some heads on the wrist. Believe it or not, ladies' variants of popular dive watches were common throughout the 1960s and '70s, and I'd argue this is easily one of the best.
Apart from its excellent condition, which can be seen best upon inspection of its uniquely shaped case and acrylic bezel, this example stands out as a result of the line in the auction house's lot description that reads "boxed with papers." While it's not a game-changer to have an obscure ladies' dive watch with papers, there's no denying that their presence would be appreciated. In a time when vibrancy and color are so celebrated within the arena of industrial design, I couldn't think of a better watch for someone who's after a bold look.
This scaled-down Deep Blue is going up for sale at Leonard Joel Auctions of Melbourne, Australia, on September 21, when it'll be offered with an estimate of AUD 1,000-1,500. Click here for further details.
Universal Genève Compax Ref. 22705-1
To wrap up the week, we've got one last eBay pick, confirming that after a long drought on the bay, the waters are once again rising. It's a Universal Genève, and a misrepresented one, as contrary to what the seller has stated, this ain't no Tri-Compax. Instead, it's one of the loveliest Compax references to have emerged out of the 1960s – and it's also powered by the most notable sports chronograph caliber of the era. What's more – it makes for a great opportunity to train your eyes.
This is another one of those instances where you've gotta make do with what you've got and not allow less-than-ideal photos to stop you from making lemonade. The dial doesn't look 100 percent perfect, but there's one flaw that might not even be one based on my experiences in similar situations. Above the hour marker at 11 o'clock, there's what you might think is a significant mark on the dial, but I'd lean towards saying it's an area of the acrylic crystal that was gouged and now has some sort of dirt on its surface. That's because, in different shots, you can see ever so slightly more of the text below, which wouldn't be the case if it were truly marked.
I'm excited by the watch itself, but to be perfectly honest, I'm likely more interested in the ridged bracelet it's currently fitted to. It's an American-made J.B. Champion bracelet, but it features a Universal Genève-branded clasp and is similar to the bracelets many Polerouters were originally sold with. If you've seen one with minimal wear, you'll know this one is not that, but knowing the talent that's out there in the field of bracelet restoration, this could be brought back to its original glory if you wanted. All this to say, it's a nice addition to an already nice watch, and to have it included is a nice bonus.
This UG is being offered by a New Yorker on eBay in a sale ending on Saturday of next week. At the time of publishing, the high bid stands at just under $2,150.
I think a diver's watch from Ming was probably not one of the things anyone was expecting in the near or even medium-term when the brand launched its first watch – the 17.01 – back in 2017. As it turns out, however, the idea of doing a dive watch was, according to Ming Thein and the company that bears his name, already gestating. In retrospect, there have been, both with the first Ming watch and with subsequent models, clear signs that the company's obvious interest in exploring both the technical possibilities and aesthetic possibilities of its unique approach to watchmaking might well be applied to a diver's watch. The Ming 18.01 H41 launched in its first series earlier this month (and rather predictably, sold out almost immediately), but on August 22 at 2 AM GMT, the second batch will go live. In between the first release and the second, we were able to take a look at the watch in person.
First, right off the bat, this is instantly recognizable as a Ming watch, having the same general design language we've seen in Ming watches going all the way back to the very first. The three key elements found in Ming watches across the board are a copious use of Super-LumiNova for both better legibility and as an abstract design element; the signature flared lugs; and a commitment in general to keeping the size of the watches within reasonable, even classic, parameters. Ming's first dive watch was actually a 10-watch prototype series, the 18.01 Abyss Concept, which established virtually all of the basic elements of the full production 18.01 H41 with the exception of the case material – while the Abyss Concept had a brushed 316L stainless steel case, the production watches are available in either grade 5 titanium or DLC (diamond-like carbon) treated stainless steel.
The watch specs belie the very wearable size (40mm diameter, 12.9mm thick, 46mm lug-to-lug) of the watch; water resistance is 1,000 meters/100 atmospheres, or about 3,280 feet – that is about three times the test depth of a modern nuclear attack submarine. It is certainly true that such depth ratings are manifestly overkill and largely serve the function, to the extent they have one, of making the watch a conversation piece, but it is still fun to think that the watch can tolerate pressures that might have made the fictional sub Red October implode. The 18.01 H41 is also the first Ming watch to have a center seconds – in fact, it is the first Ming watch to have any kind of running seconds display at all, but obviously, this is an essential element in a dive watch, where it aids not only in precision timekeeping but also in letting a diver know the watch is functioning, both topside and at depth.
The dial is, as is usually the case for Ming, a fairly complex construction; it's a two-level sapphire construction with HyCeram Super-LumiNova XI (this is a luminous ceramic composite). Super-LumiNova XI is applied to the bezel as a liquid epoxy and to the hands as a solid material. There are any number of luminous watches whose lume you don't especially notice unless it's nighttime, but occasionally, you find yourself wearing one (the various Seiko divers have this property) that glows noticeably even in slightly dim ambient light. During the time I've had the 18.01 H41, it has surprised me on several occasions by doing so in an elevator after coming in from a bright afternoon.
The bezel is DLC-treated stainless steel, loaded with copious amounts of lume.
The bracelet is in Grade 5 titanium as well, and both the bezel and caseback have been treated to give them a slightly roughened surface, to ease turning (in the case of the bezel) and to help keep the watch in place on a wet arm or wetsuit sleeve. I'm not a diver, but were I one, I would probably want some sort of micro-adjustment clasp, but the upside to not having one is a very elegant and seamless bracelet.
The sixty-click bezel has, in a departure from standard dive-watch practice, no knurling at all; however, the slightly roughened surface provides a good grip, and the bezel feel is pleasantly exact. There is no play to speak of at each detent, and the sound of each bezel click is oddly pleasant to listen to. Weird as this may sound, it has a rich, rounded quality which, when combined with the precision of its operation, makes you feel like you're interacting with a piece of real precision machinery. The only downside to the bezel is that, with no knurling, it's somewhat more difficult to turn with wet hands, although it's still possible. One additional use for the bezel is that you can use it to help set the watch, by turning the bezel so that the inverted triangle at the zero position is on the nearest five-minute mark to the position of the minute hand. The movement, an ETA 2824, is adjusted to five positions but, without minute markers on the dial, setting the watch to the exact minute can require some estimating, and using the bezel as a visual reference helps clarify the actual position of the minute hand.
One of the many nice touches in the watch is the visible indicator – a bright red gasket, it looks like, set around the crown tube – which is exposed if the crown is left unscrewed; it is not only practical (diving with a watch with an unscrewed crown could lead to a flooded case), but it is also just fun to look at and adds to the impression that the watch is ready for you to injudiciously submerge yourself beneath 3,000 feet of water at a moment's notice.
Although you probably won't spend a whole lot of time looking at it, the back of the 18.01 gives the same impression of precision and care in manufacturing and design as the front. There are six very deep holes milled out for a caseback wrench, which should give any watchmaker who works on the watch an excellent grip, and verbiage is informative but also, unsurprisingly for a Ming watch, well-integrated as a design element as well. That little crab is a reference to the aquatic, of course, but it's also a little bit of a Ming in-joke about the case shapes of their watches as seen in profile, and there is even a morphology of Ming "crabs" on the company's website.
The Ming 18.01 H41 is a quite exciting watch to wear. Diver's watches have a cookie-cutter similarity, and for a reason – the technical features that make a dive watch both compliant with the specifications of the international dive watch standard, and simply practical from a functional standpoint, tend to create a lot of necessary similarities. Within those constraints, however, I think Ming has managed to produce a dive watch that ticks all of the boxes in terms of functionality and then some. As is usually the case with Ming watches, the pleasure is as much in the abstract properties of the watch as in its utility – that one-kilometer depth spec is an impressive number on its own, but to do it in a watch that doesn't look like it belongs on the tentacle of the Kraken instead of a human arm, is unusual and interesting. And if, like me, you have a helpless love of anything that glows in the dark, you're going to love the 18.01 – it's hard for me to look at it in the dark, with its eerie UFO-like profile and glow, without starting to hear the theme from Close Encounters of the Third Kind in my head.
The Ming 18.01 H41: case, grade 5 titanium, 40mm x 12.9mm, and 46mm lug-to-lug. 3.5mm-thick sapphire crystal with double AR coating; DLC coated one way, 60-click stainless steel bezel filled with Super-LumiNova XI. One kilometer/1,000 meters water resistance. Rigid case milled to hold the movement without spacer ring. Screw down crown, triple gaskets, with red safety indicator. Dial, two-part composite with ceramic HyCeram Super-LumiNova XI fused to sapphire; hands filled with SNL XI as well. Weight of watch head, 65 grams. Bracelet, five-link grade 5 titanium with quick-release curved spring bars, double deployant interlocking clasp. Movement, ETA 2824-2, modified for Ming by Schwartz-Etienne; 28,800 vph, with 40-hour power reserve; tested for 250 hours and adjusted to five positions. Price, CHF 3,250. Two-year warranty; made in Switzerland. For more, visit Ming-watch.com.
Of all the parts of a watch, the escapement is probably the one about which most owners are the least curious. This is not to be wondered at. In Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance, the author, Robert Pirsig, is on a long road trip with a friend who has recently purchased a fine BMW motorcycle, the handlebars of which have begun to work loose. Pirsig advises making a shim to slide under the loose handlebar collars to help hold them in place and suggests cutting one out of a beer can. His friend reacts to this suggestion with irritation, despite the fact that sheet aluminum is actually an ideal solution to the problem.
Pirsig writes, "But to my surprise he didn’t see the cleverness of this at all. In fact he got noticeably haughty about the whole thing. Pretty soon he was dodging and filling with all kinds of excuses and, before I realized what his real attitude was, we had decided not to fix the handlebars after all."
"As far as I know those handlebars are still loose. And I believe now that he was actually offended at the time. I had had the nerve to propose repair of his new eighteen-hundred dollar BMW [the book was published in 1974 so don't be pokin' around looking for any $1,800 new BMW bikes today, my friends], the pride of a half-century of German mechanical finesse, with a piece of old beer can!"
To me, one of the (many) larger take-aways from the anecdote is that someone who buys a fine mechanical watch, especially from brands which invest heavily in core timekeeping technology like metallurgy and escapement design, may actually be averse to understanding how the watch works – or, if not averse, at least uninterested, as having a grasp of the ins and outs of the mechanism is not the necessarily the owner's primary source of enjoyment in having the watch. There is nothing wrong per se with this, obviously. Plenty of people enjoy their cars immensely and feel perfectly legitimate pride of ownership without understanding how an automatic transmission works.
Leaving it to the pros: watchmaker at Patek's restoration department.
Moreover, the possibility of tweaking something mechanical is often part of what drives interest in mechanics, and a watch is not something that the average owner generally feels an impulse to tweak. Even back in 1974, when Pirsig lamented his friend's disinterest in the art of motorcycle maintenance, and when probably a lot more people were working on their own motorcycles, cars, and what have you than do so today, fiddling with the gubbins, as they say, was considered something best left to a watchmaker.
All this tends to set up watch owners and enthusiasts for a certain degree of detachment from the technical, and apparently stone-cold boring, aspects of horology – and especially the rather arcane world of escapements. But there is a great deal of pleasure, if you are inclined to find it there, in understanding escapements, because the principles behind escapement design are universal principles of physics and mechanics. Once you have a sense of what escapements are doing, ticking away in the darkness under the dial, you really don't look at your watch in quite the same way ever again and indeed, you may even look differently at the world. Miracles are usually defined partly by their singular nature. But though the technology of the escapement strives for, and at its best achieves, ubiquity (historically, the most successful escapements are widely adopted), it is nonetheless miraculous for that. Appreciating this fact is by far the most democratic pleasure fine watchmaking offers – why, you don't even have to own a watch to get in on the fun.
In examining the modern watch escapement, we'll focus on those which are most widely adopted (we will not attempt a general history of the development of escapements; HODINKEE's Nick Manousos has, however, provided a useful general overview) . All industrialized watch escapements are attempting to solve the same basic set of problems, and in understanding how they resemble, and differ from, each other, we can come to a new and deeper understanding of what makes a watch a watch.
The Escapement: What It Does
Back to basics. Inside a mechanical watch – every mechanical watch – is a mainspring, which is at one end of a series of gears which transmit energy one to the next. The mainspring barrel is made to rotate by the uncoiling spring, and it in turn drives the center wheel, third wheel, and fourth wheel. The fourth wheel drives the escape wheel, which in turn passes energy to the escapement, which in turn, uses that energy to drive (or as watchmakers say, give impulse to) the balance.
Now the balance is a sensitive little thing – I should say the balance and spring because, without the spring, the balance is useless (and the other way around too, come to think of it). The balance is best understood, I've always thought, by looking at what it's trying to imitate, which is the pendulum.
Think of a pendulum that isn't swinging. The pendulum hangs straight up and down; it is fixed at its point of equilibrium and, like all equilibria, this is a rather boring situation. Leave it alone, and it will hang there for all eternity (or at least until the proton decays, whichever comes first).
An idealized simple gravity pendulum (diagram, Wikipedia). Obviously, in the real world, rods have mass, frictionless pivots exist only at Hogwarts, etc. etc.
Give a pendulum a push, however, and it begins to swing – how long each swing takes depends on one thing only, which is the length of the pendulum. The pendulum will pass through its point of equilibrium at each swing. How far the pendulum swings depends on how hard you push it, natch. But because how hard gravity pulls the pendulum back towards its equilibrium point, depends on how far it swings away from its equilibrium point, the pendulum should be isochronous – the time of each oscillation should be the same, regardless of the amplitude. Isochronism is an essential property for any oscillator expected to act as a timekeeper. As it turns out, practically speaking, the pendulum is only isochronous for small amplitude swings but this basic description is enough to go on with. If the pendulum loses no energy, once set swinging, it will swing forever.
It will, at this point, have occurred to the alert reader that pendulums rather noticeably do not swing forever. Why? The short answer is friction. Friction can occur in two ways in a pendulum – the first is through air resistance, and the second is at the point where the pendulum is attached to its frame. (There are other extremely small losses – for instance, the frame in which the pendulum is mounted will never be perfectly rigid and, as it flexes, it drains energy from the pendulum into the ground, albeit in homeopathic amounts). You can reduce both to almost nothing, and makers of high precision pendulum clocks mounted their pendulums on knife-edge crystal suspensions in vacuum-sealed canisters, but no practical solution is perfect. Even in these situations, pendulums will still gradually lose energy to the environment as friction converts kinetic energy into minute amounts of heat. So, to keep the pendulum swinging, you must give it a push now and again.
Now you have created another problem. When you push the pendulum, you interfere with its natural frequency – a little, or possibly a lot, depending on when and how hard you push it. Ideally, the pendulum would be given impulse instantaneously, at its equilibrium point, and there would be no variation in rate. However, anything that actually physically impulses a physical pendulum will introduce errors. The problem is made even more severe if you want to have an actual clock. Now you not only have to keep the pendulum swinging, but you must also count each swing mechanically. You therefore need some sort of mechanism that both gives impulse to the pendulum and which, in doing so, advances a gear train. Such devices do exist – they are called escapements.
The anchor escapement is an example of this simple but wonderful device. The animation shows only three components. The anchor and pendulum are in grey and the escape wheel in yellow. The escape wheel is made to rotate – maybe by a weight attached to a pulley, or maybe by a mainspring barrel. As the escape wheel rotates, it is alternately locked and unlocked by the anchor, under the impetus of the pendulum. Every time the anchor unlocks the escape wheel, the escape wheel tooth slides along the curved impulse face of the anchor, giving the pendulum a push. You can see the beauty of it – the escape wheel advances one tooth; the pendulum gets an impulse; this is all you need, really, to have a clock.
Building The Perfect Beat: The Ideal Watch Escapement
Let us now turn to the balance and spring. In a watch, there is no pendulum; rather, there is a balance and balance spring. The key point here is that the balance stands in for the pendulum, and the balance spring stands in for gravity. The balance is held at its equilibrium point by the spiral balance spring. If you give the balance a push, it will begin to oscillate; in one direction the spring tightens, and then releases energy to push the balance back to its equilibrium point; in the other direction, the spring coils expand, and release that energy to push the balance back in the other direction. The beauty of the spiral balance spring is that ideally, it is like gravity – isochronous, as the force of the spring will be proportional to the force of the impulse.
A balance with a rare spherical balance spring.
If we look at the anchor escapement, however, we can see that it does not fully fit the definition of an ideal escapement. In an ideal escapement (and I owe a lot of this analysis to Daniels' Watchmaking, which for a lucid explanation of the principles of a practical watch escapement is very hard to beat), impulse would be applied instantaneously at the equilibrium point, in both directions, with equal force each time in order to ensure perfect symmetry of motion (especially important in a watch). There would also be no friction involved as this dissipates energy and affects the motion of the oscillator. The anchor escapement fails on both counts – not badly, by the way; you can get excellent performance out of it – but it is not an ideal solution. Moreover, the sliding friction at the escape wheel teeth and pallets, as the curved projections of the anchor are called, requires oil, and any oil will eventually thicken and evaporate over time. The viscosity of oils will also change with temperature, and this means that the ideal escapement would be oil-free as well. A watch escapement should be self-starting – that is, its design should be such that the watch will spontaneously begin to run once a certain amount of energy is wound into the mainspring. The escapement must have good safety – that is, it should not unlock accidentally if the watch is given a shock. And overall, of course, in giving impulse and counting oscillations, the escapement should interfere with the natural harmonic motion of the oscillator as little as possible. So we have a little checklist:
Impulse as close to the equilibrium point as possible, in both directions
Minimal friction and, ideally, no oil
Self-starting
Good safety
Minimal interference with the natural motion of the balance
All this means that designing a watch escapement that fits as closely as possible the requirements of an ideal escapement is a very tall order indeed, and if you think about it, you begin to understand why successful, practical escapements are very few and far between. Escapement design is something horologists have been fiddling with for 500 or so years, but while many are called, few are chosen, and the timeline of horology is littered with the sad, silent, inert corpses of escapements which enjoyed, as it were, a brief moment in the sun before fading and falling with all the poignant finality of a cherry blossom (oh, chaff-cutter escapement, we hardly knew ye). With this in mind, we can now look at some examples of escapements in modern watches.
The One To Beat: The Classic Lever Escapement
If you own a watch today, and it doesn't say Omega or Roger Smith on the dial, there is close to a 100 percent chance that you have a watch with a lever escapement. There are a number of very good reasons for this. One of them is simply longevity – the lever escapement, which evolved from the anchor escapement for clocks, appears to have been invented by Thomas Mudge in 1755, and it has been with us in one form or another ever since. It can be made in various configurations – tourbillons often have a side-lever, for instance, in which the ruby pallets are in a radial line to the center of the balance, rather than perpendicular to it, as in conventional lever watches – but the basic principles have been the same for almost 300 years. This means that when you buy a modern lever escapement mechanical watch, even a humble Seiko 5, you are getting the benefit of over three centuries of cumulative research and development, conducted by some of the finest minds in the history of the applied sciences – which is a pretty terrific thing, and the reason that good accuracy and precision are so widespread as to be taken for granted in modern horology.
A lever watch movement. Left to right, mainspring barrel, center wheel, third wheel, fourth wheel, escape wheel, and lever; balance not shown, for clarity. The animation is of an ETA 6497 which was originally designed as a pocket watch movement. In a classically set up watch, the center wheel turns once an hour and the fourth wheel, once per minute; the fourth wheel drives the sub-seconds and the center wheel, the motion works for the hour and minute hands.
So how does the lever escapement stack up when you look at it against our checklist? Not bad, my friends, pas mal. It delivers impulse in both directions, and it is also self-starting. Moreover, the lever has excellent safety. The angle of the impulse and locking faces of the ruby pallets, and the escape wheel teeth, interact in such a way as to press the shaft of the lever firmly against its bankings, which is the term for the pins that prevent the lever from moving any further at either extreme of its swing. The fact that it takes quite a jolt to cause the lever to unlock accidentally gives the escapement great reliability and is a big factor in lever escapements having found their way into wristwatches that have all sorts of adventures, from mountaintop to sea bottom and everything in between. (As a side note, banking pins are usually adjustable, but they can also just be the solid walls of the well in the movement plate in which the escapement sits; these are so-called solid bankings, and they are one of the requirements of the Geneva Seal).
Lever escapement animation; note the two banking pins, left and right. The pressure of the escape wheel teeth keeps the lever firmly pressed against its bankings. Animation, Mario Frasca, Wikipedia.
So why go to the trouble of developing any new escapement at all? Well, the lever's not perfect. For one thing, it doesn't deliver impulse completely symmetrically (you'll notice the lever arm is longer on the right than the left). Like any escapement, it introduces its own, characteristic escapement error – impulse is delivered as the impulse jewel on the balance passes through the notch in the upper tip of the lever, and there is a loss of energy as this happens. This, combined with other aspects of the escapement's geometry, tends to introduce a losing error – this losing escapement error is an inherent feature of the lever escapement which must be taken into account in the design and setting up of the rest of the watch.
The most formidable problem, though, is the sliding friction between the escape wheel teeth and the ruby pallets. Those teeth are scraping along those jewels, and there are no two ways about it. And although the friction isn't all that high – friction is proportional to load, and the loads in a mechanical watch are pretty low – it's not nothing. In a modern lever watch running at 28,800 vph, that scraping friction happens eight times per second. That is 252,288,000 times per year ... scrape scrape scrape. In five years, that's 1,261,440,000 times ... scrape scrape scrape. You need oil, and if the lever has an Achilles' heel, it's that it needs oil on those impulse surfaces, and oil, even the best, breaks down after a while.
Still, the lever is tried and true. Think about it – just about every watch on Earth (except for some exotics, and of course, Omega, which we'll get to in a minute) uses a lever escapement. Even in watches with silicon pallets and escape wheels, the basic principle is the same. It is a somewhat humbling reminder to not get too up on your high horse about your watch – that 5711 you blew the kid's tuition payment this year on is using exactly the same basic mechanism as a Seiko 5. Okay, I'm being a little rhetorical there – after all, there are enormous differences in craft and execution, across the board – but given how many hundreds of escapements have been tried over the centuries, it is a remarkable testimony to the lever escapement that it is, if not the only game in town, still the biggest after so many centuries.
Rolex: Chronergy And Chronometry
Rolex is a funny beast. It's a company with an enormous budget for – well, you name it, they've got a budget for it that's probably bigger than anyone else's, and one place they spend big is on movement R&D. A lot of what they patent never sees the light of day in actual products, but they do put a lot of time and research into making improvements on basic timekeeping technology, and one example of their efforts is the so-called Chronergy escapement. The Chronergy escapement is basically a Swiss lever but with some modifications intended to improve performance and efficiency. It was first introduced in the Day-Date 40mm, in 2015, in the then-new caliber 3255.
The 2015 Day-Date 40mm, with the Chronergy caliber 3255.
Caliber 3255.
Now, if we are being exact about things, and we should be, this is obviously not a new escapement per se. It is, however, an indication that refinements to the lever escapement can and are still being made, even today, and that research into how to refine the escapement further is an active project both at Rolex and elsewhere. The Chronergy escapement introduces a modified lever geometry, which allows more efficient delivery of energy, and the size of the pallet stones is reduced by half in comparison to the standard Swiss lever. The escape wheel is skeletonized to reduce inertial energy losses.
The Rolex Chronergy escapement. Note the skeletonized escape wheel teeth, reduced size of the ruby pallets, and offset lever geometry.
The lever and escape wheel are both made of a nickel phosphorus alloy, to reduce vulnerability to magnetic fields. One interesting feature of the escapement geometry is the angle of the lever with respect to the escape wheel. In a conventional lever escapement, the lever's centerline is on a direct radial line from the axis of the escape wheel, but in the Chronergy escapement, it's slightly offset. All these changes to the standard lever were made with a view to increasing efficiency – the Chronergy escapement is, according to Rolex, about 15% more efficient than a standard lever. Overall, if we stack up the Chronergy against our checklist, we see that it's still got essentially all the strengths and weaknesses of the standard Swiss lever, but with stronger strengths and diminished weaknesses. It is a testimony to the basic soundness of the lever escapement that working on refining it is still very much a valid strategy horologically.
The Nerd Who Hit The Big Time: The Co-Axial Escapement.
The co-axial escapement is, like the Theory of Special Relativity, the result of a thought experiment. Einstein famously asked, what would the world look like if you rode on a beam of light? George Daniels asked himself a slightly different question: How do you get the benefits of both the lever and the detent escapement into a single escapement design, without having the weaknesses of either?
Okay, so this is a tricky one. The detent escapement is often also called a chronometer escapement, as you often find them in boxed ship's chronometers. Their history is long and complex and has to be left for another time, but for our purposes, it is enough to understand that the detent escapement is nearly ideal in principle. Most significantly, there is no sliding friction in a detent escapement – in fact, there is no lever or anything like a lever. The escape wheel delivers impulse directly to the balance. This means that the detent escapement does not need to be oiled and so should have superior long-term rate stability in comparison with the lever.
The detent escapement, as designed by Thomas Earnshaw. The detent (flat component, e through h) holds the escape wheel in place via the locking pallet d. As the balance, b, rotates counterclockwise it pushes the detent down, pressing on the tip of the gold spring, i, unlocking the escape wheel a. The escape wheel rotates clockwise, and one tooth pushes on the impulse pallet c, giving impulse to the balance. On the clockwise swing of the balance, the unlocking pallet of the balance lifts the gold spring up but does not unlock the detent, and no impulse is given. Illustration from Britten's Clocks And Watches And Their Repair.
Pivoted detent escapement with gold escape wheel, Girard-Perregaux pocket watch, 1860. Spherical balance spring on the cut compensation balance.
So if the detent escapement is the best thing since sliced bread, how come you don't find one in every watch? Well, a cursory inspection of the detent escapement reveals its major weakness – it unlocks if you look at it crosseyed, and for that reason, it is unsuitable in general for use in a wristwatch (now, there have been modern watches made with detent escapements, but these are in the minority). George Daniels was not the first watchmaker to whom it had occurred to try and combine the best properties of the lever and detent escapements, but he was the first to make it work in a design that eventually could be adapted, with some modifications, to large scale production.
Today, there are just two places to get a co-axial escapement – one is Omega, of course, which has been continuing to create new versions of the co-axial escapement since bringing out the first co-axial watch – a limited edition – in 1999, and the other is Roger Smith, who has also been making continual updates and modifications to the original co-axial escapement. Omega's alterations to the design involve modern materials science solutions, while Roger Smith continues to follow an approach which emphasizes classic watchmaking materials and construction, as well as, of course, an extremely artisanal approach to watchmaking vs. the industrial-scale watchmaking taking place at Omega. I would emphasize as well that each has its place and each requires its own idiosyncratic, and I think admirable, set of skills and ways of thinking (that said, if some unknown rich uncle ever dies and leaves me untold lucre, I will bespeak a watch from Roger quicker than you can say lift angle and die a happy man, or at least, less unhappy).
Closeup of the co-axial escapement in an Anniversary watch made by Roger Smith to George Daniels' design. Note the upper and lower set of escape wheel teeth.
The action of the co-axial escapement can seem quite confusing at first, and if you find it hard to follow even in an animation, believe me, you're not alone. The escapement has two escape wheels – one smaller with half-ogive teeth, and one larger. Both are on the same axis, hence the name "co-axial" escapement. As the balance (shown upper right in the schematic animation below) swings clockwise, the smaller jewel on the balance roller unlocks the escape wheels while, at the same time, a tooth on the larger of the two escape wheels impulses the balance directly, via the larger impulse jewel on the balance.
As the balance swings counterclockwise, the smaller jewel unlocks the escape wheels again but this time, the smaller wheel with half-ogive teeth pushes on the center pallet on the lever, and the lever gives impulse to the balance indirectly. Interestingly, the only lever pallet which actually transmits impulse to the balance is the central one – the two outer pallets on the lever are there just to lock the escape wheel. The lower pallet locks the escape wheels on the counterclockwise swing of the balance and the upper, on the clockwise swing of the balance. As you can see, it is quite literally half lever escapement, half chronometer escapement – in one direction impulse is indirect, via the lever and in the other, direct via an escape wheel tooth.
In general outline, the story of the industrialization of the co-axial is well known – it took quite a bit of time and quite a bit of money but, today, the escapement is found in almost the entire Omega product lineup, which is to say, hundreds of thousands of watches a year. Apparently, Omega oiled the first version of the co-axial – a modified ETA 2892 – very lightly on one driving surface, but it was not at the impulse surfaces, and when Walt Odets looked at the escapement back in 2002, he remarked that he felt it was not a critical issue.
How does the co-axial escapement look, stacked up against our little list of criteria? It looks pretty damned good. The escapement does not require oil, impulse is given in both directions (albeit directly in one and indirectly in the other – I wonder if getting the amount of energy delivered in each direction to match up wasn't a big part of the challenge in making the escapement work, especially given the fact that the two impulse pallets on the balance roller are so far apart) and it is self-starting. Safety appears to be good as well, and long-term rate stability ought to be excellent. Despite some teething problems (which you have to expect) with early versions, Omega seems to have had the the kinks worked out for some time now. And, of course, if you want a different expression entirely of the co-axial, in something which connects more directly to George Daniels' philosophy of watchmaking, there is always Roger Smith. I think the only downside to the co-axial from a broader horological perspective is its complexity. You could make an argument, perhaps, that having an oil-free escapement is of diminished importance when you bear in mind that the watch will have to be serviced sooner or later anyway. But if a wristwatch can run for eight to ten years, say, with unchanged rate stability right up until it's serviced – well, that ain't too shabby.
The Contender: The Grand Seiko High Beat Dual Impulse Escapement
This is the newest escapement among the four we're looking at here, and so far, it exists in only a single caliber, in only a single watch, and so its inclusion ought to be taken as somewhat provisional. The escapement is the only high-beat escapement in this particular roundup. Given the fact that it appears in an entirely new movement, and that the movement can reasonably be expected to show up eventually in other high beat Grand Seiko calibers, I think it is worth looking at a bit more closely. The movement is caliber 9SA5 and the watch is the 60th Anniversary SLGH002.
If we take a look at the escapement more closely, we see a number of interesting features as well as a number of respects in which it relates, from a conceptual if not an actual engineering perspective, to both the lever and co-axial escapements.
The escape wheel can be seen on the left, and you'll immediately see that it is quite different from either the co-axial or lever escape wheels. The escapement gives impulse in two directions – in one direction indirectly, via sliding friction between an escape wheel tooth and a lever pallet, and in the other direction directly, via an escape wheel tooth engaging with the impulse jewel on the balance roller. (For an animation showing the action, check out our earlier coverage of the movement, right here). The movement also features the use of a freesprung, adjustable mass balance and an overcoil balance spring, and this, in combination with the high frequency and unique escapement design, clearly seems to represent an ambitious step on the part of Grand Seiko to up its horological game and become even more competitive with the major players in Switzerland. It's an ambitious move.
Judged against our list of criteria for a modern watch escapement, the GS Dual Impulse escapement seems very promising. It is self-starting (this is per Grand Seiko) and gives impulse in two directions; it offers a high-beat solution to the rate stability problem, and it shares the co-axial escapement's basic strategy of giving impulse directly in one direction, and indirectly in the other. One of the many respects in which it differs from the co-axial escapement is in the use of lubricant – the indirect impulse is via sliding friction between an escape wheel tooth and a lever pallet, requiring oiling. However, the escapement is overall more efficient than a standard Swiss lever, and it will be interesting to see how widely it is deployed across the larger GS product lineup – between, this, the MEMS-fabricated escapements used in other mechanical GS watches, and Spring Drive, Grand Seiko is now bringing a diverse range of technologies to the table.
The Exotics
The four escapements mentioned above, for all their differences, have one major feature in common: they are either produced at an industrial scale or are clearly intended to be produce-able at an industrial scale. However, we can't leave the subject of escapements without at least mentioning some more experimental and even exotic escapements, which have all been made in relatively smaller numbers, but which also show that the urge to continue to explore what an escapement is, and how it works, is far from dead in modern horology. Developing new escapements is extremely expensive and very risky, but that has not stopped brands from trying.
A far-from-comprehensive list would include a number of escapements from Ulysse Nardin, since the introduction of the Freak 20 years ago; the Zenith Oscillator in the Zenith Defy Inventor; the Genequand oscillator which Parmigiani Fleurier had under development at one time, and many others. Many of these escapements rely on the elastic properties of silicon. Watchmakers have also produced timepieces that update older escapement designs, using modern engineering methods – one such escapement is Breguet's "natural" escapement, with versions made by Kari Voutilainen, Laurent Ferrier, and F. P. Journe. Makers such as Frodsham, Urban Jurgensen, and Christophe Claret have created timepieces that adapt the chronometer detent escapement to wristwatches. The number of such experimental and concept-watch escapements is bigger than many of us might suspect, and while they tend to be announced with enormous fanfare, for any of them to result in large scale series production is a much rarer event, but there is always a chance a breakthrough might be made and a new escapement that eclipses the lever and its derivatives will take center stage. In the meantime, smaller production watches with non-lever escapements continue to add an enormous amount of interest to the horological landscape.
The Future
That said, the lever is looking pretty solid, and although new materials and tweaks to its geometry continue apace, it's still a tough design to beat, to make a feeble pun. One wonders what Thomas Mudge would think, if he could be brought into the future and shown how many offspring his original idea has birthed. The story of the modern watch escapement is an astonishing saga of flashes of inspiration, centuries of patient refinement, and incredible creativity in mechanical engineering. And while it is easy to think that when it comes to watchmaking, they don't make 'em like they used to, the truth is it is hard to consider the evolution of the modern escapement closely and avoid concluding that we've never had it so good.
I would like to especially acknowledge the work of the various individuals who created the animations in this article and made them available on Wikipedia. I am also indebted very much to the many watchmakers and horologists who have patiently explained their work to me over the years. To the extent this article is correct, it is thanks to them; any errors are mine alone.
Each week our editors gather their favorite finds from around the internet and recommend them to you right here. These are not articles about watches, but rather outstanding examples of journalism and storytelling covering topics from fashion and art to technology and travel. So go ahead, pour yourself a cup of coffee, put your feet up, and settle in.
The Schrödinger's Cat Paradox was conceived by Erwin Schrödinger to demonstrate his view that, despite his having come up with the idea, he was acutely uncomfortable with the idea of interpreting the wave function as a probability. In the paradox, a cat is locked inside a sealed box, with a vial of cyanide and a radioactive atom. If the atom decays, the vial is broken and the cat dies; if not, the cat lives. The problem is that atomic decay is a quantum process, meaning that there is at any moment, not a certainty, but a probability, of the atom decaying. Quantum mechanics, unfortunately, seems to say that the cat is both alive and dead at the same time, in what is called a quantum superposition. What exactly the hell that means is something physicists and philosophers have been wondering ever since, and a new very sensitive experiment seems to both confirm many weird aspects of quantum theory as well as leave open the possibility of such apparent absurdities as causality traveling backwards in time. This is done by simulating the heir to the Cat: Wigner's Friend, who is observing a quantum process and who is, in turn, being observed. Things get very strange when the observer is observed in turn. A mind-bending story with a lot of twists and turns, but well worth the effort if you were, you know, getting too complacent about the basic nature of reality.
My longtime friend, co-host, compatriot, and colleague Jason Heaton has launched a personal newsletter for all sorts of his writing that exists beyond the topics he commonly covers here on HODINKEE. Titled "Swimpruf," this is a more personal platform in which Jason hopes to return to his roots in a wider sphere of topics, including, "a keen eye for the history of exploration and diving, travel, accessible adventures, gear, good whisky, and an old Land Rover." Swimpruf is hosted by Substack and offers a mix of weekly free content and additional posts that are only for subscribers. Check it out – you can have each post delivered directly to your inbox, and so far, I've enjoyed each and every one. If you dig it, subscribe. I did.
"Mom, are we theerrrreee yet?" your whiny teenager screeches from the back seat of your slightly-too-long road trip. It's a well-known intonation, the whiny teen. If you yourself fell into that cohort during the 1990s or early Aughts, you know it not only from yourself, but from your music: think Blink 182, New Found Glory, or Good Charlotte. But, why? Surely there must be a reason an entire subgenre adopted this cartoonish affect beyond suburban angst. In this Atlas Obscura deep-dive from 2015, linguists try to parse the cultural and musical influences that resulted in Tom Delonge's accent being such a distinctive "vooyce insuide muhy yeead."
If someone commits a theft or a robbery, you probably feel bad that it happened. No one likes their stuff being taken. And yet, if we were to call the same act a "heist," suddenly, it seems at least a little bit cool, right? For whatever reason, the word "heist" will always conjure up slick images of Marky Mark and a Mini Cooper or George Clooney and the Bellagio – even when the heist is about something less obviously glamorous than gold bars or casino cash. This story in Smithsonian Magazine takes a deep dive into the Carnegie Library's Oliver Room Heist, a 25-year con job put together by a man on the inside, stealing high-value items from the library's collection. It's not quite the same level of luxury as the heists from Hollywood, but its perpetrators and aftermath are no less fascinating.
In 2011, Arcade Fire won the Album of the Year Grammy for The Suburbs, an introspective concept album about growing up. That's not particularly newsworthy, or shocking today, but when you look at who they were up against in the category (Lady A, Eminem, Katy Perry, and Lady Gaga), it's actually preposterous. This article in The Ringer gives a historical retrospective of that night at the Grammys in 2011, and how it ushered in a new age of indie-rock music going forward. If you have no idea what I am talking about, let this at least be an introduction to a wonderful album that pairs great with the fall weather that's just a mere month away. Happy reading and listening.
Citizen makes some really strange and wonderful watches, and the brand, famous for its development of Eco-Drive solar charging, has always had an eye for advanced technology. Earlier this week, Cole brought you a hands-on with Citizen's Satellite Wave GPS F950 Titanium 50th Anniversary LE, a watch that packs a remarkable amount of tech into its 14.7mm-thick case. But what if you want something a bit easier to slide under your shirt cuff? As it turns out, Citizen does that too.
Take a trip back with Jack to when, more than four years ago, he took a closer look at the Citizen Eco-Drive One, an impossibly low-profile solar-powered watch that sports a movement just 1mm thick. With a quick look at the history of ultra-thin watchmaking, allow Jack to give you the (ahem) skinny on this unique bit of innovation from Citizen.
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We’re back! This week, we've got episode 101 for you, kicking off the next season of HODINKEE Radio, and I couldn't be more excited for what we've got coming. We decided to start things off with a bang, so this week's episode is devoted entirely to my conversation with Miles Fisher. Now, if that name sounds familiar to you, it's for good reason. You might know Miles from his viral YouTube channel; you might know Miles from his acting career, which included a prominent one-episode stint on Mad Men; you might know Miles from Bixby Coffee, his direct-to-consumer start-up; or you might know Miles from his latest venture, Coffee With The Greats, a podcast on the Blamo! Media network that he hosts with his dad. Yeah, the guy knows how to keep busy.
We start our conversation talking about our mutual obsession with podcasts, the proper speed for binge-listening, and why I can't get enough of Coffee With The Greats (Seriously, go subscribe right now. We'll be here when you get back.) We also talk about our shared Texas heritage – spoiler alert: Miles is way more legit in that department than I am – and how important it is to really put all of yourself into a project when you commit to it.
Don't worry though, we also talk about watches. A lot. Miles has been interested in watches for a long time, but over the last few months, he's gone head-first into the deep end and shows no signs of coming up for air anytime soon. He's engaged in the community, he's listening to, looking at, and reading anything he can find, and he's been steadily building an extremely tasteful collection of pieces that tick different boxes while feeling cohesive as a group. We get into all of that and more. Miles is truly one of us, and a great reminder that if you're in this hobby and not having fun with it, you're doing it super wrong.
We hope you enjoy Episode 101 of HODINKEE Radio. Check out the show notes below, and let us know what you think in the comments.
Wrist Check
If you had any doubts that Miles is a full-blown watch nut at this point, I rest my case with this picture. Over the summer, he was able to track down an SBGY003, the steel version of the 20th anniversary Spring Drive Grand Seiko from last year. This is a real insider's watch if I've ever seen one. It's understated, but full of incredible details like the faceted hands, the sunburst dial, and the subtle lines of the case. It's also a great platform for showing off the beautiful, constant glide of the center seconds hand that's enabled by the Spring Drive caliber. This is a watch I've long lusted after, and seeing it on Miles' wrist certainly doesn't make me want one any less.
Here is a watch that has embraced the full power of the dark side. Equal parts rock 'n' roll and rebellion, the Place Vendôme Tourbillon: Dark Matter is the touted "bad boy" of the Place Vendôme Collection – the black sheep of the family, who doesn't care what time mom and dad said curfew is. The Place Vendôme Tourbillon: Dark Matter is named for a substance that is far more unknown than it is known – a mystery in many ways. What we do know is that this is an iteration of an existing Place Vendôme Tourbillon design using sportier materials such as titanium, and ADLC coating. As far as the name goes, you would be far better off asking HODINKEE Editor-in-Chief Jack Forster about the complexities of dark matter than I, so for now, we will just stick to the watch.
Initial Thoughts
The Czapek name has some horological history behind it. Czapek was a foundational partner – some 200 years ago – of the brand that would eventually become known as Patek Philippe. The name Czapek went defunct for years before being revived, in its current form, in 2012. Since then, the new Czapek & Cie has made a name for itself, relying heavily on collaboration with artisans at all levels of watchmaking, and delivering serious haute horology timepieces through those partnerships.
The Place Vendôme Tourbillon: Dark Matter is cased in grade-five titanium, with a black ADLC coating. This same coating was used on Czapek's Faubourg de Cracovie "Courage Every Second" chronograph for "Only Watch" in 2019. The case size for this new release remains 43.5mm. While this watch is quite similar to its forebearers in many ways (see our Hands-On with the Place Vendôme Tourbillon Suspendu 'Ici Et Ailleurs' here), the brand is calling the Dark Matter "the rebellious brother in the Place Vendôme collection."
In terms of functionality, this is a dual-time watch with a tourbillon, day/night indicator, and power-reserve meter. The dial configuration is consistent with – if not identical to – other variants in Place Vendôme collection, with five points of interest. The essential time-telling function is found at the top of the dial, with a power-reserve indicator just beneath it. The righthand section of the dial houses the second time-zone indicator with a grey arrow on the bridge, and the lefthand section houses the tourbillon. The day/night indicator resides at the bottom of the dial. Overall, the dial is finished in black enamel, with polished steel bridges with PVD coating, and an anthracite sand-blasted plate. The arrow handset on the uppermost central dial (indicating the time) is made of white gold and filled with Super-LumiNova, and the tourbillon features a lone blue screw.
Both the Sapphire crystal for the dial and the caseback are treated with anti-reflective material on both sides. That open caseback gives way to the Calibre SXH2. This is a proprietary mechanical hand-wound movement developed by both Chronode and Czapek & Cie.
As referenced earlier, the watch is being touted by the brand as something of a "black sheep" or "bad boy" in the Place Vendôme line due to its sporty nature and the materials chosen for its execution. The overall look of this piece certainly separates it from its more luxury-leaning predecessors, as there is a marked difference – in both look and feel – between platinum and ADLC-coated titanium.
The Czapek & Cie Place Vendôme Tourbillon: Dark Matter will be limited to only 10 pieces and priced at CHF 90,000. If you are looking to pick up one of these "bad boys," they will be available only at the brand's official retailers or on the Czapek website.
The Basics
Brand: Czapek & Cie Model: Place Vendôme Tourbillon: Dark Matter
Diameter: 43.5mm Case Material: Titanium grade five with ADLC coating Dial Color: Black Indexes: Arabic, and applied markers Lume: Super-LumiNova Water Resistance: 50m Strap/Bracelet: Alligator strap with titanium buckle
The Movement
Caliber: Calibre SXH2 Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds, dual-time, tourbillon Diameter: 34.8 mm Thickness: 9.8 mm Power Reserve: 60 hours Winding: Mechanical hand-wound Frequency: 3 Hz
A question that periodically arises when we cover multi-time-zone watches is, what is it that really sets one apart from the other? There are a number of different solutions to the problems of showing the time in more than one time zone and, while some of them resemble each other superficially, each has its own advantages and disadvantages, and each offers its own unique take on showing you what time it is both where you are and where you are not.
The multi-time-zone watch is an interesting complication – unlike many other complications, such as the moon-phase and equation of time, and even the perpetual calendar, it is not based on recurring natural events, but rather on an invented convention, which is the division of the world into time zones. Each time zone follows a standard mean time across the entire time zone; prior to the development of standard times, the time was simply the local solar mean time. This meant, of course, that every town and village separated by longitude had a slightly different time, which didn't matter very much at all until the invention of the railroad – the first standard time was so-called Railway Time, which was adopted in 1840 by the Great Western Railway in the UK. This time standard used GMT across the entire rail network. In 1879, Scottish-born Canadian engineer Sir Sanford Fleming proposed the division of the world into 24 standard time zones, and by 1900, most countries had adopted some form of standard time, which gradually evolved into the system we know today.
The recognition that time is different depending on where you are on Earth is not a new one. I remember being quite surprised to see, in an Antiquorum catalog for a sale of renaissance clocks which took place many years ago, a spectacular table clock which actually incorporated what looked for all the world like a modern world-time dial, complete with the names of different locations around the world (and which, to my considerable frustration, I have been unable to locate online; it's a remarkable piece of evidence, if any further were needed, that really original ideas in horology are few and far between). However, the time-zone system is entirely modern and very much the consequence of the evolution of travel technology.
The Two-Time-Zone Watch With Independently Set 24-Hour Hand
This is probably the most common implementation of a multi-time-zone watch, thanks to the widely used ETA 2893-2, which offers a two-time-zone function, and its Sellita clone, the SW330-1. Both of these movements have an independently set 24-hour hand and date, as well as hour and minute hands for local time. A couple of years ago, James Stacey referred to this particular implementation of a dual-time-zone watch as a "caller," which gave me a moment of dejection – I'm one of the older writers at HODINKEE, and I felt I had somehow missed a piece of au courant horological vernacular that was all the rage of the younger set ("I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, what the hell's a caller?") but as it turns out, the term is apt as we will see in a minute.
Local time is read off in the usual fashion, and the second time-zone is read off the 24-hour hand, which makes one revolution per day. Setting up the watch is pretty straightforward. You set the local mean time in the usual fashion by pulling the crown out to its second position. In the first position, the 24-hour hand can be set forward in one-hour increments by turning the crown clockwise, and the date can be quick-set by turning the crown counterclockwise. Date switching is driven by the local time display, not the 24-hour hand.
If you're traveling from New York to Geneva (today, as I write, the time difference is six hours, with Geneva ahead), when you land at GVA, you have two choices. You can re-set the 24-hour hand to Geneva time and leave the hour and minute hand as they were, showing the time in New York. This, however, means the time display for the whole time you're in Geneva will be a bit counter-intuitive to read – you'll be reading the hour in Geneva off the 24-hour hand, and moreover, the date will not switch over at midnight Geneva time, but rather, six hours too late, because it will change over at midnight in New York. The other option is to re-set the local time to Geneva time, correct the date if necessary, and then re-set the 24-hour hand to the correct hour for New York. This is a bit less convenient than having a watch with an independently set local time hour hand, which you find on watches like the GMT-Master II, and it's the reason James coined the term "caller" for such watches – they work better if you're wondering what time it is at a place you call frequently from home. "Caller" watches can work just fine for travel, but since you have to reset the local time display and the 24-hour hand, and possibly the date, they're a little less convenient than the next type of two-time-zone watch: what James likes to call the "flyer."
The Two-Time-Zone Watch With Independently Set Hour Hand
This type of two-time-zone watch (or three-time-zone, if it has a turning 24-hour bezel) is what is sometimes called a "true" GMT watch, although the term "true" implies that all other implementations are false, which seems oddly judgmental. In any case, such watches are sometimes said to be more convenient for travelers than for stay-at-homes wondering what time it is elsewhere in the world – the "flyer" counterpart to the "caller" two-time-zone watches. The classic example is, of course, the watch that put "GMT" into the name of multi-time-zone watches: the Rolex GMT-Master and GMT-Master II (for all you could ever want to know about those watches, John Bues' Reference Points is highly recommended).
Rolex GMT-Master II ref. 16760. Produced from 1982 to 1988, it was the first Rolex GMT-Master model with an independently set hour hand.
Setting up such watches is straightforward. You pull out the crown to the third position; in this position, moving the crown changes the position of both the local time hands and the 24-hour hand. Set the 24-hour hand to the correct position for your local (home) time. Then, push the crown in slightly to the second position and set the date – date switching is via the local time hour hand, so you turn the hour hand forwards or backwards until you reach the current date. You then set the local time hour hand to the same hour as the 24-hour hand, and you're done. Both the 24-hour hand and the 12-hour hand now show the same hour – the time at your current, or home, locale.
The Grand Seiko SBGM221.
If you're flying from New York to Geneva, once you land, all you have to do is pull out the crown all the way and set the local time hour hand forward to the time in Geneva. Since the date is indexed by the local time hour hand, as long as you remember to set the hour hand forwards instead of backwards (again, Geneva is six hours ahead), the date will automatically update to the correct date for Geneva. The 24-hour hand will continue to show home time. As you can see, this is very convenient for frequent flyers, who will want to easily set their watch to local time without stopping the entire watch or performing several different setting maneuvers. "Flyers" as opposed to the caller-type watches, for obvious reasons.
The "It Looks Like A World-Timer But It's A Two-Time-Zone Watch" Wristwatch
These are kind of a variation on the so-called "flyer" GMT watches. Essentially, they're two-time-zone watches, but with the addition of a city ring which resembles the city ring found on true world-time wristwatches. An excellent and very hifalutin' example is the Lange 1 Time Zone; another is the Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Control Geographic.
As you can see, both of these watches might at a casual glance be mistaken for a world-time complication – the distinctive city ring is usually a dead giveaway that you're looking at a world-time wristwatch. However, in both these cases, the city ring is there to provide a reference for setting the local time if you have just landed at your destination.
In both instances, you have the main dial, which shows home time, and a smaller dial that shows the time in a second time-zone, along with an AM/PM indicator. Both watches have a separate corrector for the smaller dial as well as correctors for the date (in the case of the Lange, in the form of a pusher at 7-8:00, and in the Jaeger, a corrector at 2:00).
Let's take our hypothetical little hop to Geneva. When we land, setting the time on the smaller, second time-zone dial is a matter of just pushing (the Lange) or turning (the Jaeger) the corrector at 10:00. This causes the city ring to turn, changing the reference city on the city ring, and at the same time, advancing the hour hand of the smaller dial by one-second jumps. In the case of our trip to Geneva from New York, if we've set the watch up correctly, both dials show the same time, and the city ring pointer is at New York. When we land in Geneva, we just push the corrector until it points to Berlin (the Lange) or Paris (the Jaeger), and the hour hand in the smaller dial will advance to the right hour as the city disk turns.
It is a very attractive and practical system, with just a couple of drawbacks. The first is that the date is synchronized with the larger time display, so while you can see the correct time in Geneva, the date shown will be for New York. The second drawback is that one instinctively tends to perceive the larger dial as local time, rather than home time – this is really a matter of just adjusting to reading the watch differently, although I can certainly envision without too much trouble situations where an evening's genteel carousing (for instance) might cause one to read the time off the wrong dial – and hilarity ensues, or maybe not. Purely from a legibility standpoint, this system seems to suffer a bit in comparison to simpler two-time-zone watches like the GMT-Master II, although what the mechanism loses in straightforward operation, it perhaps gains back a bit in elegance and pleasure of operation.
There are a number of variations on this system. The NOMOS Zurich Weltzeit is an interesting example, by the way, of a watch with a full city ring, but which functionally is closer to the GMT-Master II. Home time is shown on a small, rotating hours circle at 3:00, and advancing the city ring actually advances the main dial's hour hand in one-hour increments. The problem of keeping the date coordinated is solved by the simple expedient of not having one.
The Aristocratic World Timer
Interestingly enough, the first wristwatch to show the time in more than one time zone is (as far as I know) the world-time wristwatch. The classic example is from Patek Philippe.
The world-time complication was developed by Louis Cottier and first used in pocket watches, by Patek, in the 1930s. A world-time watch is – well, just what it says on the tin, as the saying goes; it shows the time in all 24 time zones with full-hour offsets from GMT, simultaneously. This is thanks to a moveable cities disk with 24 reference cities on it, and a constantly driven hour disk, which rotates once every 24 hours. To set up the watch, you just press the pusher at 10:00 until your home city is at the top of the dial, and then set the correct time at the crown. If you want to know what time it is in any of the other 23 time zones, all you have to do is look at which number on the hour disk is adjacent to the city in question. If you happen to fly – let's say, from New York to Geneva – all you have to do to show the correct local time is press the pusher until Paris is at the top of the dial. The hour hand will advance in one-hour jumps automatically to the correct local time, while the time in New York – and anywhere else, for that matter – can still be read off the city ring and hour ring.
The system has a lot going for it. It is sipping-tea-with-your-pinky-out elegant, and it is simple, practical, and enjoyable to use. Historically the one mark against it has been its higher complexity and higher cost, however, as with most other complications, it is now possible to find a true world-time complication in a more affordable timepiece as well (a Patek ref. 5230R, without that sexy cloisonné enamel world map, will set you back $48,540 smackeroos, but c'mon, that enamel world map – I want it, you want it, we all want it).
The only downside I can see to a world-time watch as a travel companion is that it's not quite as instantly legible, in terms of reading off home and local time specifically, as a "flyer" GMT watch. However, what you lose in clarity, as is so often the case, you gain back in baroque old-world charm.
This watch and the world-time complication, in general, don't say "kick the tires and light the fires" so much as they say, "Gadzooks! I must hurry to catch the noon Pan Am Clipper Flying Boat to Tahiti! (or wherever)." But that, to me, is a feature, not a bug. It goes without saying that the romance of travel, even when we could all travel enough to keep our miles topped up, has not been romantic in a long time, and even Business Class feels more like wandering through a gated community than sharing the joy of air travel with like-minded adventurers. Anything that can make the idea of travel seem what it used to be – a gateway to real adventure and, hopefully, to exotic locales and unexpected meetings – is a good thing in my book. I guess what I'm saying is that if the GMT-Master II has my head, the Patek World Timer has my heart. If I were still going to Geneva every time I turned around, I'd prefer a "flyer" GMT watch just to keep my jet-lagged head screwed on straight, but if I decided to go home the long way – around the world – I'd take the watch that puts the world on my wrist.
Though it's been nine years since he passed, the late Rolf Schnyder comes to mind almost every time I sit down to look at a new watch from Ulysse Nardin. He was a larger-than-life figure in the watch industry and one of the key people behind its resurrection in the years following the quartz crisis. Clearly someone who was not bound by what had already been done, Schnyder employed technology and avant-garde design to breathe life into a centuries-old brand best known for its conservatively designed wristwatches and ship's chronometers. Then an independent marque, Ulysse Nardin was the first Swiss watchmaker to use silicium, and though many others soon followed, it was UN who showed the way, even as horological purists plaintively wailed that the new material didn't belong in "real" watchmaking. And while my own personal tastes tend to favor smaller watches of a more conservative style, I have a lot of respect for what Ulysse Nardin does, in large part because I recognize the impressive groundwork laid by Schnyder.
I say this because today, ahead of the Geneva Watch Days event, we have a new watch from Ulysse Nardin, and considering its large size, use of unusual materials, and unorthodox construction, it struck me as one that Schnyder would have liked. Available in four different variations, the Blast is a 45mm openworked automatic tourbillon with three days of power reserve. In each of the four versions, the movements are framed with a rectangular upper bridge as well as by a bi-color double "X" and, if you flip the watches over, you see the X and the rectangle repeated. As you'd expect from Ulysse Nardin, the escape wheel, the anchor, and the balance spring are all made from silicium, which benefits both tribology and resistance to magnetic fields.
The movement is the in-house UN-172, a new automatic tourbillon derived from the manually wound UN-171. And, while the new 172 has a less-lengthy power reserve than the 171, it has the benefit of automatic winding. Now, one could certainly argue that a tourbillon like this is hardly an everyday watch, but I think that depends on who's wearing it as much as anything else. And having a solid three days of reserve means you can comfortably switch it out every so often knowing that it won't need to be reset for a few days. There's no date, so setting the Blast is as simple as it gets. Still, having a power reserve that is a convenience rather than an inconvenience is something I've come to expect from new mechanical movements coming out in 2020.
There are some other updates beyond the switch to automatic winding (which comes via a micro-rotor positioned at 12 o'clock) and the associated reduction in power reserve. The tourbillon cage, for example, has been redesigned to offer a more open view onto the escapement inside of it.
The watches also have Ulysse Nardin's UN Certification, which is granted following testing of the fully cased up watch to rate tolerances tighter than those required by C.O.S.C. for movements.
Each of the four versions features a four-part case with faceted lugs featuring contrasting finishing, and this part of the design is well worth a close look. The lugs are influenced by the exaggerated angularity of radar-evading stealth aircraft. And by virtue of their multi-piece composition, the cases can incorporate different materials. They have a multi-layer, "stacked" look. But this doesn't lead to an overly thick-looking watch. The Blast measures 13mm thick, which I think works quite well with its 45mm diameter.
On the Rose Gold Blast below, for example, a black DLC titanium middle case is matched with gold just above and below it, as well as for the lugs. On top is a black ceramic bezel, which provides for a nice, scratch-resistant bit of protection for the gold case. The matte striations you see on some of the gold surfaces have been applied with lasers, UN says. On titanium surfaces in black, the surface treatment is DLC, and where there is a color involved, it's PVD.
In addition to the new case design, the Blast is also debuting a new folding clasp. When you close the portion with the gold buckle, it sets the other side in motion simultaneously so that you don't need to grab both parts or close the bottom side first. The clasp can be closed in one easy motion.
Initial Thoughts
Any time a watch is more than 42mm in diameter, I tend to wonder about its wearability. At 45mm, the Blast is right in line with what Ulysse Nardin likes to do these days. Discreetly sized dress watches are something that I associate much more with the company's past than with its present. While 45mm is not for everybody, there is an enthusiastic audience for watches of this size.
I'd like to get a closer look at these new watches. The angular lugs look like they give the Blast a lot of character. I wonder what a simpler, slightly smaller take on this watch might look like, too. At any rate, given the downward slope of the lugs and the relative thinness of the case, I think there is a good chance that this 45mm watch could wear comfortably on my seven-inch wrist.
The Basics
Brand: Ulysse Nardin Model: Blast Reference Number: Blue Blast: T-1723-400/03; Black Blast: T-1723-400/BLACK; White Blast: T-1723-400/00; Rose Gold Blast: T-1725-400/02
Diameter: 45mm Thickness: 13mm Case Material: Four-part cases incorporating combinations of 5N gold, ceramic, and PVD titanium for colors, and DLC titanium for black Dial Color: Openworked dial with accents in various colors. Lume: Super-LumiNova on hands and indexes Water Resistance: 50 meters
The Movement
Caliber: UN-172 Functions: Hours, minutes, tourbillon Power Reserve: 72 hours Winding: Automatic Frequency: 18,000 vph Jewels: 25 Chronometer Certified: UN Certification Additional Details: First skeletonized automatic tourbillon from Ulysse Nardin
Pricing & Availability
Price: Blue Blast: $44,000; Black Blast: $46,000; White Blast: $46,000; Rose Gold Blast: $54,000 Availability: Now Limited Edition: Not a limited edition, but limited in terms of production to no more than 100 pieces per reference per year.
Welcome to the eighteenth installment of "My Watch Story," a video series starring HODINKEE readers and their most prized watches. The submissions continue to stream in, and we couldn't be happier to share them with the watch community. Today, we have five new stories submitted by David Weisbord, Numan Rehman, Mason Ameri, Jack Shepherdson, and Fred Chen.
Feeling inspired, or just discovering this project? Please scroll down to the bottom of the page to learn how to submit your own video. But first, we hope you enjoy this installment of My Watch Story.
David Weisbord And His Doxa SUB
David has been a watch collector for over 20 years. Now living in the Philippines, he decided to sell the majority of his collection to help supplement his retirement. With a plan in place to enjoy life on a leaner collection, David never could have predicted the challenges and difficulties of 2020 – particularly the lockdown measures in the Philippines. Frustrated and unable to leave his home, he reflected on his life. "Why the heck am I denying myself nice watches?" he thought. For him, this Doxa represents not only the right steel sports watch for his ocean environment, but it's also a symbol of surviving and moving forward.
Numan is sharing with us his story today from Mumbai, India. He was wearing this Tissot when he got into a bad biking accident – and although it took him four months to fully recover from his injuries, he credits the watch for saving his wrist from being broken. With a replacement crystal and bezel and its movement still perfectly intact, the watch keeps ticking and Numan is grateful he had the Tissot on him that day.
Mason Ameri And His Rolex Submariner Reference 116610LN
Mason, an Assistant Professor of Professional Practice and Director of Special Projects at Rutgers Business School, has made a lot of bold decisions in order to pursue his dreams – including leaving a comfortable job with the Fed to pursue his PhD and become a college professor. Through his research and hard work, he earned four prestigious awards. His Rolex Submariner is a way to celebrate not only his accomplishments, but also to remember the journey and life lessons he's learned along the way.
A native of Sydney, Australia, Jack gifted himself this Oris Divers Sixty-Five on his 21st birthday. He is an avid beachgoer and surf photographer and finds that the Oris is a perfect companion for his hobbies. He loves the watch for its thinness, bronze bezel, and how beautifully it's aging. Most importantly, however, he can immediately look down at his wrist and think about all the fond memories he's had while wearing it.
Fred Chen, from Boston, Massachusetts, recently drove to Atlanta to celebrate his father's 85th birthday. His parents came to the U.S. in 1967 and scrimped and saved in the formative years of Fred's life. That left a strong impression on Fred, and on his father's 50th birthday, Fred's mother gifted her husband this Rolex Date. When Fred graduated from medical school in 1997, that Rolex Date was gifted to him and has remained one of his most prized possessions. It is a source of pride for him, as well as a reminder of his parents' hard work – and he plans to hand the watch down to his son.
Ready To Submit Your Own Watch Story? Here's How It Works
1. Pick one watch that is very special to you, and get your camera phone ready.
2. Record a video telling us your most interesting or meaningful story about your watch. Let's say 2-3 minutes is the sweet spot – if you go longer, that's okay. (And please remember to introduce yourself: your name and where you are from.)
3. Get creative, keep it clean, and have fun!
4. Take some photos on the wrist and a few shots of the watch so that we can proudly display them on our site. Horizontal, please.
5. To share your video and photos, you can either A) upload here; or B) upload to your preferred large file transfer service and send a link to mywatchstory@hodinkee.com.
Earlier this summer, TAG Heuer introduced the Carrera 160 Years Montreal Limited Edition, a watch that drew upon multiple design elements characteristic of vintage 1960s and '70s Heuer chronographs. The new watch is part of TAG Heuer's year-long celebration in 2020 that recognizes its 160 years of watchmaking history, from 1860 to today. One of the products that has come to define the company's work – especially over the past 50-plus years – is the chronograph wristwatch. In fact, there are very few, if any, watch brands with a closer association to the chronograph genre.
So it would clearly be an understatement to say that TAG Heuer knows a thing or two about chronographs. The company was famously involved in the development of one of the first automatic chronograph movements ever, in 1969, and has maintained a close involvement with motorsport – where the accurate measurement of elapsed time remains crucial – for decades. There's plenty to unpack in the brand's history, and there are countless collectible vintage Heuer chronographs to appreciate, but sometimes, we feel it can be a bit too easy to focus on past innovations, while ignoring critical current developments.
Case in point: Did you know that TAG Heuer is, right now, producing one of the very best in-house automatic chronograph movements in its class?
TAG Heuer Calibre Heuer 02.
That movement is the Calibre Heuer 02. It was developed in the 2010s from the ground-up by TAG Heuer, whose objective was to combine all the technical specifications one might desire in a 21st-century chronograph in one flagship movement. It's built nearly entirely in-house at the company's manufacture in Chevenez, Switzerland, a facility that was partially created to meet the needs of the Calibre Heuer 02's production. The movement's presence has gradually expanded over the past few years, and it can now be found in a number of watches, including the new Carrera 160 Years Montreal Limited Edition. We've been fans of the Calibre Heuer 02 since its debut, and here, we'll highlight a few of its most significant details, along with three of our favorite watches in the HODINKEE Shop where you'll find the movement at work.
The Calibre Heuer 02
The best chronographs respond with alacrity to the commands of their wearer; they stop, start, reset, and start again instantaneously and on-demand, with the quick engagement of the watch's exterior pushers. Chronographs are meant to be tools for measuring elapsed time efficiently and accurately, and how they handle and engage with their wearer is critical to this functionality. No brand better represents the chronograph's legacy as a tool watch than TAG Heuer, and no movement in the company's 160-year history has been better equipped for daily use than the Calibre Heuer 02.
Let's talk a little about the Calibre Heuer 02's basic attributes. It starts with a fully integrated architecture that runs in 33 jewels, at a beat rate of 28,800 vph, with an impressive power reserve of up to 80 hours, all stored in a single barrel. It's common for watch brands today to increase a movement's power reserve by reducing its frequency, but TAG Heuer was able to maintain a frequency of 4 Hz, while increasing the Calibre Heuer 02's power reserve over three days. The entire movement construction consists of just 168 components, a remarkably small figure compared to chronograph movements of the past. Less total parts in the movement is beneficial to the end-user as it typically translates to less wear over time and a more straightforward servicing experience. All together, the Calibre Heuer 02 measures an impressively compact 31mm in diameter and 6.9mm in height.
Although it's an integrated design, the Calibre Heuer 02 was built with modularity in mind, and it has been equipped with both a tourbillon and a "true" GMT module (with an independent jumping hour hand) since its debut. On the dial-side, the movement allows for a more traditional 3-6-9 sub-dial layout (in line with the aesthetics of vintage Heuer chronographs), rather than the 6-9-12 orientation that is more common in today's watch industry. The movement's functionality is rounded out by a quick-set date, hacking seconds, and bidirectional winding. Finally, the Calibre Heuer 02's finish is simple but attractive, with crisp côtes de Genève across the mainplate and a blackened and open-worked rotor – which bears a passing resemblance to the steering wheel of a car.
You'll notice a bright red gear on the Calibre Heuer 02 that is situated underneath the black rotor and diagonally from the balance wheel. This is a column wheel, and its striking color is intentionally hard to miss. TAG Heuer has never been shy about highlighting the elements that make its automatic chronographs stand out – just consider the left-hand crown placement on the original Monaco from 1969 – so why not call out one of the key components of its new in-house chronograph movement with a touch of color?
The Calibre Heuer 02 utilizes both a column wheel and a vertical clutch mechanism, a premium combination that can be found in many of today's top-of-the-line chronographs. A column wheel acts as a type of command center for the chronograph, functioning as an on/off switch for the recording of elapsed time. When you physically press the start/stop pushers, you can feel – and typically see, through an exhibition caseback – how the column wheel immediately engages the chronograph wheels, initiating the complication as a whole. A vertical clutch, on the other hand, reduces wear and ensures a smooth, stable, and more precise actuation of the central chronograph seconds hand. The use of a vertical clutch in the Calibre Heuer 02 is significant for TAG Heuer, as it replaces the oscillating pinion, which was originally developed by brand founder Edouard Heuer in 1887. While the oscillating pinion has historical relevance for TAG Heuer, the vertical clutch is a better option for contemporary watches, as it ensures the movement experiences less of a loss in amplitude and accuracy when the chronograph is physically engaged.
The Watches
Typically, when you handle chronographs at a certain price point, there are specific drawbacks or corners that have been cut that correlate to the cost. That isn't apparent on the Calibre Heuer 02, whose column wheel, vertical clutch, and integrated architecture speak volumes about TAG Heuer's expertise in chronograph manufacturing. The brand took an industrial approach when developing the Calibre Heuer 02 – hence, the Chevenez manufacture – which allows TAG Heuer to balance an innovative and proprietary movement design with the volume production required to reach the crucial economy of scale that makes chronographs with the Calibre Heuer 02 a remarkable value proposition.
Today, the entry-level into watches with the Calibre Heuer 02 starts at a little above $5,000, a remarkable price point considering the movement specifications and the high standard of watchmaking that is typical of TAG Heuer. We've picked out three unique watches from the brand's current lineup that are available in the HODINKEE Shop and offer a different way to experience TAG Heuer's premier automatic chronograph movement. Each of these chronographs brings something slightly different to the wrist – from their aesthetic appearance to their individual functionality – which means there's a TAG Heuer chronograph out there for everyone, no matter your personal taste or style.
TAG Heuer Carrera 160 Years Montreal Limited Edition
One of the most recent watches to house the Calibre Heuer 02 is the TAG Heuer Carrera 160 Years Montreal Limited Edition. While it's not a direct revival of any specific vintage watch from the brand's historic catalog, the new chronograph combines a modern interpretation of the original 1962 Carrera case, with the memorable primary color palette of the 1972 Montreal ref. 110.503W. The decision to marry design cues of the 1960s and '70s allows TAG Heuer to express two of the most appreciated aspects of its mid-century period. There's the strikingly simple Jack Heuer-designed Carrera case that helped make Heuer a worldwide success, plus one of the playful and vivid designs that proliferated in the following decade, bringing even greater attention to the brand as a whole.
While the overall appearance of the original white-dialed Montreal is retained (including the vintage Heuer logo), its design has been refined for the 21st century in small ways, with an uncomplicated look that does away with excess branding, anachronistic scales, and the date complication. The colorful dial features yellow-tinted Super-LumiNova on the handset and 30-minute totalizer, blue sub-dials, and a red-lacquered chronograph seconds hand. The chapter ring on the periphery of the dial is blue for the first 15 minutes of the hour and red for the remaining 45 minutes. This is a subtle nod to the two contrasting scales on the original 1972 Montreal: A pulsation scale in blue and a tachymeter scale in red. The streamlined approach to the dial resonates with the execution of the movement inside – with the six o'clock date indication removed, this is one of the simplest Calibre Heuer 02 variants yet. Finally, this watch's compact 39mm diameter makes it an ideal choice for anyone that appreciates the classic look and feel of Heuer chronographs, but prefers a watch with a thoroughly modern movement inside.
You'll find the Calibre Heuer 02 ticking behind a sapphire crystal exhibition caseback, with a special Heuer 160th Anniversary rotor. The watch is paired with a blue alligator leather strap with a Heuer-branded folding clasp and double safety push-buttons, and it is delivered inside a specialty presentation box. The TAG Heuer Carrera 160 Years Montreal is limited to just 1,000 pieces worldwide, and the HODINKEE Shop is the only online retailer other than TAG Heuer itself to offer this new chronograph for sale. It's priced at $6,750, and you can learn more right here.
TAG Heuer Autavia Calibre Heuer 02 For HODINKEE
If it's not clear yet, we've championed the benefits of the Calibre Heuer 02 since the very first time we heard about it. That's why, one year after the movement made its official production debut inside the Autavia Heritage (more on that below), we collaborated with TAG Heuer on an exclusive release: the TAG Heuer Autavia Calibre Heuer 02 for HODINKEE. This watch isn't a numbered limited edition, but it was designed by us, in collaboration with TAG Heuer, with limited production and availability exclusive to the HODINKEE Shop.
The TAG Heuer Autavia Calibre Heuer 02 for HODINKEE is based on a historic Autavia design that wasn't officially recognized until 2004, when it was discovered by the Heuer collecting community at OnTheDash, a forum and news site for TAG Heuer enthusiasts and vintage Heuer collectors. The vintage watch was an orange-accented variant of the better-known Autavia "Viceroy," which was released as part of a 1970s Heuer marketing campaign with the Viceroy cigarette company. Its unique color scheme quickly earned it the nickname of "Orange Boy" among Heuer lovers, and to date, less than 30 original Orange Boys are known to be in circulation.
Our homage to the Heuer Orange Boy comes with many of the same distinctive features that set the 1970s original apart, including its use of orange racing stripes on the chronograph minutes counter, an orange central seconds hand, and a tachymeter scale on the bezel. With its 42mm diameter and graphic orange accents, this is one of the boldest collaborations we've ever worked on, making is a fitting tribute to the original Orange Boy and the perfect choice for any watch collector with an appreciation for the world that cars and chronographs share.
The TAG Heuer Autavia Calibre Heuer 02 for HODINKEE is paired with a vintage-style beads-of-rice bracelet that is itself an homage to the original Gay Frères bracelets found on many vintage Heuer chronographs. It's priced at $6,050, and you can learn more right here.
TAG Heuer Autavia Heritage Calibre Heuer 02 Automatic
Although it feels like it's been around for much longer, it was only three years ago that TAG Heuer released the Autavia Heritage, and with it, the Calibre Heuer 02. The Autavia Heritage was the result of a contest that TAG Heuer ran in 2016, which invited Heuer lovers to vote on a bracket challenge filled with 16 different vintage Autavia designs; the winning watch would then be re-created by TAG Heuer. The turn-out didn't disappoint, as over 50,000 votes were counted in what became known as the Autavia Cup. The champion ended up being the 1966 Autavia ref. 2446 Mark 3, known as the Autavia "Rindt" for its frequent appearance on the wrist of the 1960s Austrian Formula One driver Jochen Rindt.
The winning 1966 design was re-created to critical acclaim in 2017 as the Autavia Heritage. This watch features an anodized 12-hour aluminum bezel insert, a reverse-panda triple-register dial orientation, applied hour markers dotted with tan Super-LumiNova at their edge, and the vintage Heuer logo at 12 o'clock. The biggest difference between the vintage example and the modern re-edition? The movement inside. The original Autavia was powered by the manually wound Valjoux 72, while today's watch benefits from all that the Calibre Heuer 02 has to offer.
Similar to the Orange Boy, this Autavia has an immediately distinctive presence on the wrist, but it utilizes a simple white-on-black color scheme – that is both highly legible and hard to ignore – rather than any emphasis on color. This watch's bidirectional 12-hour bezel serves as a reminder that although the Autavia's popularity grew from its time at the race track, it was also designed to be used by pilots (the Autavia name is a portmanteau of "automobile" and "aviation"). This bezel design allows the wearer to indicate a second time zone at a glance, or it can operate as a second option for tracking elapsed hours.
There's a reason why the Autavia Heritage was considered by many to be a watch of serious importance for TAG Heuer at its release. Not only did it bring the brand's diverse audience together in the Autavia Cup, it also housed the first application of Calibre Heuer 02. There might not be another modern chronograph with a more impressive combination of value, good looks, technical specifications, and brand significance than this.
The TAG Heuer Autavia Heritage Calibre Heuer 02 Automatic is available on either a beads-of-rice stainless steel bracelet or an aged light brown leather strap. The bracelet iteration comes at a $150 premium compared to the leather strap option, at $5,450 and $5,300, respectively. You can see them both for yourself, here and here.
Discover More TAG Heuer Chronographs In The HODINKEE Shop
The Calibre Heuer 02 represents a new era in the history of TAG Heuer's chronograph production. Its development helped push the company's in-house manufacturing capabilities further than ever before, once again cementing TAG Heuer's status as one of Switzerland's most important chronograph makers.
You can explore all the TAG Heuer watches in the HODINKEE Shop, including those with Calibre Heuer 02, right here.
Perhaps more than any other brand, the road through one's Seiko experience can often make one feel like a value-obsessed horological Goldilocks. For many of us, the first bowl of porridge comes early in our development of watch enthusiasm, with a Seiko 5, or maybe an SKX007, or if you’re like me, an SKX779 "Black Monster" (seen glowing below). And, while Goldilocks needed only contend with a trio of possibly perfect sustenance, from that first spoonful of Seiko steel, you're introduced to a table with hundreds of options. Big, small, bold, subtle, modern, new, old, old-looking, JDM, limited editions, titanium, steel, kinetic, solar, and more.
The author's first two Seikos in his first successful lume shot back in 2007. (Seiko SKX007 left and SKX779 below right).
The mind reels to organize this ecosystem into understandable classes and families. As Seiko Folk, we trade Latin names for reference numbers, common names for an endless array of increasingly indistinct nicknames. When a friend texts an image of a large and imposing puck of a watch on his wrist with the caption reading "SBBN013 :)", it is incumbent upon you to translate and reply in due form, "Oh, nice Darth Tuna" (or similar).
The author's same SKX007, modded with a 12-hour bezel a decade later.
While all of watch appreciation (and certainly collecting) is based in an evolving personal application of trial and error, few brands welcome the budding enthusiast with the offer of more raw experience for their budget than Seiko. If you have $500 to spend, you could literally spend it a hundred different ways and, with each selection, you have ensured the heady buzz of cracking open that simple Seiko box to a new experience. In turn, with each new experience, we get a piece of data that can be applied to the next time we feel the need to pull the handle on this specific slot machine.
Our taste develops and, hopefully, becomes more individual and tailored to our own wrist. Is a Darth Tuna a rad watch? Yes. Is it much too large for my wrist? Also, yes. Put that spoon down, try another bowl. Some will be too hot, some too cold, but when it comes to accessible daily wear sports watches, once you've tried a few dozen bowls, you likely want the one that is just right.
The Seiko SLA017 from 2017.
When Seiko announced a quartet of new vintage-inspired Prospex models into the SPB range, I'll admit that my hopes were very high. As part of the brand's 55th anniversary, these new models were loosely inspired by the brand's first dive watch, the 62MAS. I say "loosely" because Seiko made a much more direct reissue of the 62MAS in 2017's SLA017 (shown above). Considerably less expensive than the limited edition SLA017, the new SPB14X models used the 62MAS inspiration to offer a straightforward sports dive watch with a skin-diver silhouette and the hopes of a toolish yet easy-wearing presence with a dash of vintage effect.
The Seiko SPB
Slotted above more entry-level fare from Seiko 5s, the SKXs, the SRPs (including varietals of As, Bs, Cs, and Ds), and even SUN line, the SPB family is not limited to dive watches, but does offer an upper tier of the Prospex lineup that sits below that of the premium SLA product. Some of you are confused, but I promise that the reference numbers don't really matter (more on that in a moment), the point is just that the SPB line exists as a sort of midpoint between Seiko's much-loved entry-level products and their much more expensive top-of-the-line models. When considering SPB dive watches, the models typically have finer finishing and details and come with an upgraded movement and (generally) the option of an upgraded bracelet.
The Seiko Prospex SPB079
Historically, this line sits between $800 and $1,200 and draws aesthetic inspiration from other well-known Seiko models (both old and new). Previous popular examples include the new "Sumo" models (like the SPB101/103) and the SPB077/079 (above) which were introduced alongside the previously-mentioned SLA017 in 2017.
For a brand that is often praised for its sub-$500 offerings, the SPB line (among others) has had the tough job of trying to justify a more expensive offering while not directly competing with Seiko's top-spec models (let alone those from Grand Seiko). For 2020, and with the new SPB14X models, I think they finally have a strong case.
The SPB143 (AKA The SBDC101)
The key to that case is sizing and the attempt to take the Seiko dive watch charm to a higher level while maintaining as much value as possible. Unlike past recent SPB offerings that routinely featured cases sized in excess of 44mm, this new line measures just 40.5mm wide, 13.7mm thick, and 46.5mm lug-to-lug.
As described in my original post, the most basic and simple of the four is the one featured in this review, the SPB143 with a grey dial and a bracelet. Those wanting a bit more variety can opt for the SPB145 (brown/green dial), the SPB147 (brown dial with gilt accents), or the SPB149, which is a limited edition of 5,500 units and has a radiant blue dial with gold accents for the seconds hand and a bit of the dial text. Given my personal distaste for gilt, or indeed brown accents on most watches, it was an easy choice for me to go with the standard SPB143 for this review. While there isn’t a loser in the lot, I have a deep fondness for Seiko at its most simple.
On that thought, given that we have four references from launch, does the SPB14X need a nickname? Due to the year, the vintage design, and the connection to the 62MAS, I was thinking we could just call all four the "20MAS." Let me know your ideas in the comments. Back to the show.
Take that excellent sizing and add to it drilled lugs, a sapphire crystal, a large guard-less crown, a solid caseback, and a case treated to Seiko's Dia-Shield hardening, and you have a balanced and handsome design that wears well on any strap I tried while offering strong legibility, equally strong lume, and really no weakness on wrist.
Fit and finish are also great, and better than what I've come to expect from less expensive Seiko offerings. The bezel is excellent. Smooth, easy to use and, while there is a hint of wiggle due to its 120-click design, it has no slop and manages to feel very mechanical thanks to a strong fit with the case and an excellent grip. Being Seiko, and knowing that at least a few of you will ask, the bezel aligns very well with the minute markings – but not perfectly. Many of you who have been down the Seiko path know that their bezels don’t often perfectly align with the chapter rings or the dial markings.
While on my example, I'd say the bezel insert is off by maybe a quarter of click, the delta between the markers and the dial (there is no chapter ring on the SPB143) is much less noticeable in person due to the considerable depth between the inner bezel edge and the dial. For photos, this effect is reversed as the depth is somewhat compressed by the perspective. So while on wrist, I found the misalignment to be all but invisible, after hours of working on the photos in this post, the slight offset combined with that depth means it's very hard to show the true variance in the alignment.
All told, this is my only complaint with the watch, and it may be something I can change in the future, and for me, it's not a deal-breaker. That said, I do think that Seiko needs to sort this out and that a watch which nails so many other details should also nail this, too.
Perhaps more interestingly, the bezel uses a black-colored and Dia-Shield-coated stainless steel insert. While many other brands, and even Seiko, often opt for inexpensive aluminum or somewhat more costly ceramic inserts, the SPB sports steel. I've seen reports quoting other materials, but have double (triple, even) checked with Seiko U.S. and Seiko Japan, with both confirming the bezel insert is stainless steel.
I've worn mine without a mind for abuse over the past month or so, and the bezel has yet to show any wear. That said, it's stainless steel, and even with a surface hardening like Dia-Shield, it's going to scratch. For my tastes, while I will hate the first few scratches, once the bezel is well-scratched, I think it will look amazing, and I hope the black coloring will aid in ample contrast after a few years of use.
Beyond its material, the execution of the insert matches that of the bezel action, with a lovely font and fully engraved scale. There is a lume pip at zero as you'd expect, and you can see a circular brushed finish within the black coloring. Additionally, I also really love that Seiko chose to differentiate the SPB14X models from other 62MAS re-issues by opting for a thicker bezel. When matched with the skin-diver case shape and the guard-less crown, I think it looks incredible and adds presence without adding weight or problematic proportion.
Inside that '60s-esque case, we find the latest iteration of Seiko's 6R35, which represents the top model in the 6R range and has also been used in a wide range of Prospex, Alpinist, and Presage models. This latest model offers a strong 70-hour power reserve and a rate of 3 Hz, and the 6R35 has hacking, hand-winding, magnetic resistance to 4800 A/m, and a date display at three. It's a toolish dive watch – all it needs is a reliable and somewhat accurate automatic movement, and the 6R35 gets the job done.
Another side note for those who listen to my podcast, The Grey NATO. I had mentioned that my SPB143 was having trouble with how long it took to fully align the date wheel, sometimes remaining slightly off-center well into the afternoon. As it turns out, a tiny bit of rotational pressure on the crown while in the quick date setting was enough to properly align the display and the issue has not returned.
Perhaps more so than any other single element, the dial really separates this model from any other Seiko diver I've owned in the past. The sunburst finish shimmers between light grey and black as the applied markers balance that effect with white metal surrounds. The date is simple but effective and certainly looks appropriate for the overall design. Finally, the hands are excellent, especially compared to some of the more bold designs seen on past SPB divers. In sunlight, the dial is a bright shade of grey, and the slightly domed crystal glows along its perimeter. It feels like a proper tool Seiko, but at a more refined level. In low light, the lume speaks for itself.
The Bracelet
While I am not generally a bracelet guy, I know that most people buying a more expensive Seiko will in turn expect a more solid bracelet, and there is a $200 premium for an SBP143 or SPB145 over the rubber-only SPB147. With that in mind, I think Seiko has delivered a totally acceptable bracelet. It's a solid steel bracelet with sturdy pin-and-collar sizing, solid end links, a steel clasp with micro adjust, and even a tiny folding wetsuit extension (just like on my SKX779!).
The SPB143's case and lug shape are not exactly ideal for a bracelet, but Seiko has opted for a simple and rugged solid end link and a link shape that tapers towards the clasp. The end result is not fancy, but it does wear well and feels solid without overpowering the watch.
For my $200, if I could have had a rubber strap on the SPB143, that's what I would have bought. I don't mind having the bracelet, but I likely won't wear it. Especially as the 143 is nothing short of a strap monster.
On The Wrist
I took the liberty of including an extra handful of wrist shots for this review as I think the SPB143's strap versatility is something that makes it much more special to me and that it might also matter to you. While I may have stuck my metaphorical flag in a hill of grey NATOs, I love being able to change straps on a whim – what else am I supposed to do on Zoom calls, pay attention?
From rubber to leather, NATO or sharkmesh, I couldn’t find a strap that didn't look great on the SBP143. This is due to a mix of the case shape (which is far from unique to Seiko), the tonal grey dial, and the short drilled lugs.
Strap changes are easy, grey goes with everything, and there is something eternal about that H-shaped skin-diver-style case. Some case shapes are made for bracelets (like Rolex), and some just melt into your strap of choice. I have an old '60s Silvana skin-diver and, while it's only 36mm wide, it does the same trick as the SPB143. The end result is the versatility to bend what is a rather low-key and simple watch in whatever direction you're feeling for the day. And, should you get it wrong, the drilled lugs make it easy to change your mind.
Once you've picked your preferred strap, the SPB143 is lovely on wrist. It's not too big nor too small, and it looks a bit chunky while never feeling overweight. It is both comfortable and toolish at the same time, and from my desk at home to some light snorkeling in a Toronto-area lake, it does what any good Seiko does. Which is – whatever you want.
Like I said in the included video, I think this is the Seiko for guys and gals that have been down a rabbit hole or two. You've had a grip of Seikos and their competition, and you're ready to pay a bit more for the right one. Admittedly, that may be more of what this watch is to me, but look at it this way: Is this a Seiko I would recommend to someone just getting into watches or dive watches? No, likely not, as I think it's important for enthusiasts to work up to various price points, especially with a massive and varied brand like Seiko. That said, after having owned a couple of dozen Seikos and plenty of the brand's competition – is this my favorite Seiko of any I've owned or reviewed? Yes.
The Competition
Like almost any other watch, Seiko, while certainly beloved, does not exist in a vacuum. And in continuing to offer watches that crack into the four-digit price point, they open themselves up to more competition than you might find in the sub $500 space. Looking at ~40mm automatic divers that are well under $2,000, here are a handful of options that should be on your radar before you spend $1,000-$1,500 on the SPB14X of your choosing. That said, I couldn't include everything, so let me know in the comments as to how you might cross-shop the SPB14X.
Mido Ocean Star Tribute
While I haven’t yet had the opportunity to see this diver in person, it certainly looks great on paper. For ~$1,080 bucks, you get a 40.5mm x 13.4mm steel case, 200m water resistance, a sapphire crystal, and Mido's version of ETA’s C07.621 automatic movement with 80 hours of power reserve and a day-date display. It's a handsome, well-spec'd dive watch that doesn’t overplay the "tribute" aspect. While I don't know the lug-to-lug measurement, and I prefer the looks of the Seiko (and don't have any straps to fit the 21mm lug width), this is really solid competition. Nicely done, Mido.
A bit thicker, wider, and longer than the SPB14X, the SUB 200 also keeps the pricing just in the sub-$1,000 range. At $990, you get an ETA 2824 and the choice of six colors, many of which are much more exciting than those offered by the Seiko (at least until more versions come available, yellow gold anyone?). For me, the SPB143's size, brighter lume, and general shape outpace the color options of the Doxa – but this remains a great choice if you've got $1,000 and a need for some extra color in your life.
Similar in many ways to the Doxa, if the stoic nature of the SPB143 isn't for you, the Zodiac Super Sea Wolf starts around $1,100 and offers a wide collection of colors and spec. Looking at the vintage-inspired Z09201, we find a 39.5mm case that is 13mm thick with a distinctive dial design and timekeeping provided by an STP 1-11 automatic movement. If you want an extra-hit of vintage styling, this (or really any) Sea Wolf should fit the bill. Compared to the Seiko, I'm a sucker for the SPB14X's case shape and black bezel, though I give extra points to the Zodiac for its jubilee-style bracelet.
Thankfully, while the starting point of the lovely U50 puts it at the better part of double the price of the Seiko, Sinn does offer their model 104 in several versions starting around $1,300. While not a traditional dive watch layout (countdown bezel vs elapsed time), the 104 is 41mm wide, 11.5mm thick, 46.5mm lug-to-lug, and has 200 meters of water resistance and a Swiss automatic movement. If you want something at a similar price and size, the 104 isn't going to let you down, and they even offer it in a very handsome white-dial version and with several strap and bracelet options.
Representing a huge departure in terms of style, the 41mm Hydroconquest still fits the aforementioned filter given its price and 41mm sizing. No information is given in terms of thickness nor lug-to-lug, but it's a distinctive 300-meter water-resistant diver from a well-known brand, and it comes on a bracelet, is powered by a Swiss automatic movement, and can be had in a blue or a black dial. In this case, it's just a matter of which I feel looks better for my wrist, and that would definitely be the Seiko.
Seiko Prospex SPB151/153 - aka. "The Captain Willard" $1,300/$1,100
You had to have seen this coming – and I'm sure at least a couple of you hit the comments to mention the new Willard long before reading this far. Indeed, the SPB14X was not the only heat to be added to the SPB range this year, as Seiko also launched a re-issue of their vintage 6105 diver in the SPB151 and SPB153. Starting at $1,100 for the green-dial version on a rubber strap, the 151/153 are 42.7mm wide, a little over 15mm thick, and 46mm lug-to-lug. While definitely larger, the 151's case shape should manage the extra steel, and these SPB siblings rock the same movement and the same 200 meters of water resistance (and drilled lugs!). While I love the look of the 151 and the 153, the 143's size is just too good on my wrist (and quite uncommon to Seiko). I know there's a fight brewing here, and you'll find me on team 20MAS, even if that means I'll need to run away from Cole.
If the Goldilocks analogy felt somewhat too whimsical, allow me another attempt. Think of your home toolbox (or tool area, if you're lucky). It's full of many great tools, right? From those chunky orange pencils to a measuring tape, a hammer, and maybe a drill, or something really fun like a Sawzall. The thing is, nine times out of 10, when I go to my toolbox, I'm just grabbing a simple screwdriver, or a small level, or a light set of wire-cutters. In the tool spirit of the dive watch, sometimes we want or need the veritable sledgehammer of a Darth Tuna, but generally, I just want to make sure the lights turn on and that I don't hang a frame in an annoyingly askew manner.
Likewise, the SPB143 is that everyday tool that doesn't let any of its design push it out of contention for my wrist. It's light, versatile, capable, and generally speaking, more than enough watch for anything I get up to. Is it a bit bland? Yeah, maybe a bit. But I also think it’s elegant in a way that an SKX007 or SRP777 can't compare. To my eyes, this is distilled sporty Seiko – an everyday tool that doesn't cost a fortune but still manages to check all of the boxes.
If they had made this watch back when I took delivery of my SKX779, I would have balked at the price and added it to my wishlist as I basked in the greenish glow of my $200 Monster. Now, well over a decade later, I have become an expert in what I need and expect from a watch. Within that narrow but rigorously informed position, the SPB143 feels perfect, the extra cost aligns with my expectations, and for my wrist, I figure it's the best watch in the entire lineup. It is a tool just right.
If you cast your mind back to the ancient storied days of, I don't know, seven or eight years ago, when the world was young, and we greeted each sunrise joyous of heart and light of spirit, you wouldn't have thought that there was much of a percentage in going hard on ultra-thin watches. The whole genre has been, for much of the entire history of watchmaking, something of a niche endeavor. First, making any sort of true ultra-thin watch at all is so technically demanding that it is often considered a complication in its own right, and second, it becomes exponentially more difficult to coax good performance and reliability out of a watch as it gets thinner. For this reason, wristwatches designed primarily to be durable, accurate, and reliable daily companions have generally eschewed the pursuit of thinness as a separate and specific goal, and the category has generally remained a small one, with world records set before the new millennium often standing unchallenged for years, and then decades.
2014 to 2020: six years of record-setting watchmaking.
And we all know what happened next – Bulgari happened next. The Octo Finissimo line of ultra-thin watches launched just six years ago, but that short period of time has been marked by an efflorescence of technical innovation in watchmaking which it would have been unusual to see from a single brand in six decades. We have had the Octo Finissimo Minute Repeater, the Octo Finissimo Chronograph GMT, the Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Automatic, and of course, the Octo Finissimo Automatic. In addition, we've had world records outside the Octo family as well, including, most recently, the Serpenti Seddutori Tourbillon, which houses the world's smallest tourbillon in current production.
This week, as part of Geneva Watch Days, Bulgari has introduced yet another world record watch: the Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Skeleton Automatic, in a case measuring 42mm x 7.40mm, and housing an openworked, monopusher chronograph tourbillon movement (yes, there are two pushers, but we'll get into that in a minute) – caliber BVL 388, with a 50-hour power reserve, measuring just 3.50mm thick.
According to Bulgari, this is the flattest tourbillon chronograph wristwatch ever made.
Now, ultra-thin watches may be a niche category, but so are tourbillon chronographs. We have seen, since I joined HODINKEE back in 2015, less than a dozen, and they have largely been hand-wound, or have traveled along with other complications, such as minute repeaters (the Audemars Piguet Tradition Tourbillon, for instance, is also a minute repeater). And ultra-thin versions of the complication are virtually unknown – you can find lots of things to say about the Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Tourbillon Chronograph, but not even its own mother (father? genderless and mysterious progenitor?) would call it ultra-thin, or even winningly svelte. I don't think, however, that this particularly diminishes Bulgari's accomplishment – the creation of a tourbillon chronograph movement with a self-winding system that is only 3.50mm thick is a remarkable achievement any way you (thinly) slice it.
To get a better sense of what that number represents, we can take a look at some other record-setting calibers (rather boringly, mostly from Bulgari as well, although it reflects perhaps more on the rest of the industry than on Bulgari that they seem to have little competition in the field). The Octo Finissimo Tourbillon's hand-wound caliber BVL 268 is 1.95mm thick; however, it is a hand-wound movement. The Octo Finissimo Minute Repeater's caliber BVL 362 comes in at 3.12mm thick. The caliber BVL 138 in the Octo Finissimo Automatic is at 2.30mm, the world's thinnest self-winding movement (although the AP 2120 is still the world's thinnest full-rotor automatic).
Maybe the most flat-out gasp-inducing movement, however, is the BVL 288 in the Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Automatic, which is as thin as the hand-wound Octo Finissimo Tourbillon – 1.95mm thick – but with an automatic winding system somehow maneuvered into it as well. That the BVL 288 could be so thin is partly due to the fact that it is a flying tourbillon (omitting the upper tourbillon bridge is an advantage where fractions of a millimeter count) and partly due to the fact that it uses a peripheral rotor, which (like a microrotor) can lie in the same plane as the movement plate.
Normally you put a tourbillon, and a chronograph, and a self-winding mechanism into a watch by sort of sandwiching them together. The automatic rotor and reverser and driving wheels, the chronograph mechanism, and the tourbillon (which generally lies on the same plane as the base plate; I'm unaware of any modular tourbillon, although anything's possible) all sit on different layers, and if you add everything up from the various movements above, you would expect something maybe four millimeters or so thick – a chronograph plate added onto the BVL 288 would be one way to go. However, Bulgari seems to have found a way to put all of these mechanisms on more or less the same plane, as we'll see.
The caliber BVL 388 in the Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Chronograph Automatic incorporates a number of interesting technical features as well.
Dial (bottom plate) side, caliber BVL 388.
Right off the bat, there is the fact that this is not a flying tourbillon, which in an ultra-flat tourbillon, you would certainly expect (the upper bridge is visible both in the movement image, and of course, through the dial of the watch). The mainspring barrel is prominently visible at 12:00, with the keyless works for winding and setting to the right. The tourbillon cage is driven at its periphery, rather than via a lower pinion (which I think saves space as well), and there is no regulator, which, again, helps keep height down (you can see the timing weights on the rim of the balance; the weights have been set into recesses in the balance's upper surface). Now, one very interesting note: If you look quite closely, you will see what looks like a tiny column wheel, at about the 4:00 position. At first, I thought this might have something to do with the chronograph, but if you recall, this is a monopusher movement – start, stop, and reset are via the pusher at 2:00. As it turns out, this lower column wheel and its associated pusher (at 4) are for setting the function of the crown. In one position, the crown hand-winds; push the 2:00 pusher, and the function is changed to hand-setting.
Movement side (top plate).
The movement side allows you to see the chronograph and automatic winding mechanisms. According to Bulgari, while some of the basic features of the caliber BVL 318, in the Octo Finissimo Chronograph GMT, are present in the caliber BVL 388 as well, the BVL 388 is largely a new movement. About the only thing the two movements have in common is that they are both lateral clutch designs (the lateral clutch, all other things being equal, offers a flatter construction than a vertical clutch). We can see, on the top level of the movement, the hatchet-shaped chronograph bridge, and below that, the laterally sliding, integrated reset-to-zero hammer – the heart-piece cams for reset-to-zero, which are set on the axes of the center seconds recorder and, to the left, the minutes recorder, are just visible beneath the bridge. At 10:00, you can see the reverser and transmission wheels for the peripheral rotor (white gold in this case, though Bulgari used platinum for the Chronograph GMT), and the mainspring barrel is at 12:00.
One quite cool feature is the clutch lever for the chronograph. You can see the nose of the clutch lever sitting on one of the column wheel teeth, and if you look closely, you will see that Bulgari solved the problem of fitting it into the movement by having it actually wrap around the lower tourbillon bridge – I don't remember seeing this particular mechanical solution in any other tourbillon chronograph caliber. Normally, fitting the chronograph works into a tourbillon is handled simply by having the works on a higher level than the movement plate, above the tourbillon itself, but this solution allowed Bulgari to suppress the chronograph works into the movement plate.
Now, the problem with making a name for yourself as a maker and breaker of records is that you turn yourself, just a bit, into a sports star, and sports stars don't last forever. Sooner or later, they retire, and their records tend to be broken by the next generation of athletes, who benefit from an earlier start, more scientific training regimens, and so on. Bulgari's Octo Finissimo line is, to me, an unprecedented accomplishment in modern watchmaking. The line has few rivals in terms of creating an aesthetic unity across an enormous range of prices and complications, all tied together by a common design language and a common commitment to ultra-thin watchmaking. (It is a never-ending source of amusement to me that the Berner Professional Dictionary Of Horology, tasked with defining an extra-flat watch, says, "A watch that is extremely flat," which is one of the biggest cop-outs in the history of horological nomenclature).
It's impossible to tell how the future is going to treat this collection and these designs – I mean, in 1972, the Royal Oak looked a little desperate – but the fact that every time I look at the launch date for the Octo Finissimo collection, I can't believe it's only six years, is indicative of something, I think. I like to believe the collection has staying power, and that, long after who broke what record when is forgotten, the Octo Finissimo collection will be remembered, not just with nostalgia, but with enduring respect for the combination of genuinely insightful watchmaking, and strong design, that it has come to represent in 21st-century horology.
The Bulgari Octo Finissimo Tourbillon Chronograph Automatic: Case, 42mm x 7.40mm, grade 5 titanium; sandblasted titanium crown and pushers; skeletonized grey matte dial. Movement, Bulgari caliber BVL 388, 3.50mm thick, 52-hour power reserve, monopusher chronograph with tourbillon and function setting pusher for the crown, running in 52 jewels at 21,600 vph. Bracelet, sandblasted titanium, with folding clasp. Limited Edition of 50 pieces worldwide; price, €150,000. More at Bulgari.com.
Bulgari has established itself as a serious leader over the last few years when it comes to making sleek, lightweight sport watches. The Octo Finissimo is one of the most iconic new watches of the last decade, and I don't use that term lightly at all. That's not the only arrow in the Roman design house's quiver though, and its got plenty of history to draw from as well. Sometimes that means dipping back into la dolce vita of the 1960s, but it can also mean looking back to the end of the last millennium, when Bulgari was experimenting with different materials and working on refreshing its design language for the years ahead. What we've got today is a trio of thin, lightweight sport watches that look to some late-90s pieces for inspiration, but with a bunch of important updates.
The Bulgari Aluminium and Aluminium Chronograph are reinterpretations of a watch that Bulgari first launched back in 1998 that combined aluminum cases, rubber straps, and quartz movements to create a different kind of luxury watch. It might seem commonplace today, but presenting a non-precious-metal watch on a rubber strap as a luxury watch was still pretty revolutionary in the late '90s. Remember, this is before brands like Hublot and Richard Mille convinced people that old definitions of luxury aren't the only definitions. The new models we're getting today (two variations on the time-and-date and a panda dial chronograph) build on that foundation, but with a new, more durable aluminum alloy for the cases, the proprietary Bulgari-style rubber bracelet, and mechanical movements. Aesthetically, they're very much in line with their forebearers, but the technical updates are the big news.
For the time-and-date Aluminium, we've got a 40mm case with a sandblasted finish and a matte black rubber bezel. Bulgari has not provided details on this new aluminum alloy, but says that it's more resistant to wear – aluminum is light, but soft, so it can be vulnerable to scratches and dents. With basically no polished surfaces in sight, the watches are pretty understated, minus all the Bulgari logos (more on that in a minute), and look great in the summer sunshine. The red accents on the seconds hand add a bit of color, and the oversized sans serif "12" and "6" at the poles add some punch too. The watch has a solid titanium caseback (more secure than using aluminum) and underneath is the caliber B77, Bulgari's version of the ETA 2892, meaning it's automatic and has a 42-hour power reserve. You've got your choice between a black or white dial, both of which have a soft, matte finish. In the case of the white dial, it reads more as off-white, which I like a lot more. It's less harsh, especially in direct light, while achieving the same effect.
The Aluminium Chronograph is largely the same. It's got the same 40mm aluminum case, the same rubber bezel, the same titanium caseback, and the same rubber bracelet. The biggest difference is obviously the chronograph functionality, provided via the B130 caliber, which is Bulgari's take on the ETA 2894-2 (itself built on the 2892). This means you get the same 42-hour power reserve and a three-register chronograph with running seconds and a 12-hour totalizer. You've also got a date display, which is at the 4:30 position, my least-favorite place to put a date window (though that's a story for another time). There's only one dial configuration for this model, and it's a black-on-white panda dial. I really like the execution here, with the oversized "12" numeral balanced by three large black sub-dials that take up the bulk of the dial's real estate. The pushers and crown are all black PVD-treated, so you get that extra bit of contrast too.
What surprised me most about these watches was their price tags. While not inexpensive, the time-and-date models come in at $2,950 while the Chronograph is $4,250. That's definitely toward the more entry-level end of Bulgari's line-up, especially among the brand's mechanical offerings. I think it was a smart move for the brand to price these more aggressively, making them great options for fun summer sport watches. It's much easier to stomach buying something a little different with an aluminum case at these price points than it might be if they were 30% to 50% more expensive (which wouldn't have surprised me at all). I could see these either being fun additions to someone's already expansive collection, since it's tough to think of anything similar out there at all, or being a nice entry point into the Bulgari universe. It will be interesting to see where they pop up over the coming months.
On the wrist, these watches wear exactly as you'd hope an aluminum watch would wear. They have that barely-there weight and sit nice and low to the wrist. If you have a light watch that's thick, you get an almost Sistem51-like sensation that can make a watch feel a bit less serious, but these feel proportional in terms of their weight-to-profile ratio. For reference, the time-and-date models are just 9.4mm thick, while the chronograph is 11.1mm thick, so they do sit low to the wrist, and they weigh in at just 71g and 77.7g, respectively. I particularly like the chronograph on-wrist – with a collection like this, you'd expect the chronograph to be a millimeter or two larger than the time-and-date models, but by sticking to the 40mm diameter, Bulgari has created a watch that feels like it packs a lot into a compact package.
I was a little worried about the rubber and aluminum bracelet, which uses a proprietary combination of longer rubber strap sections with smaller link-like sections of rubber and metal. It just seemed weird. It turned out to be plenty comfortable, and it does give some added visual structure to the design, but honestly, I'd probably prefer a plain rubber strap, if given the choice.
I'll admit that when I first saw these watches on my computer screen, I kind of shrugged. Sure, they're very Bulgari and I was sure they'd be well made and all that, but they're not exactly the kind of watches I instantly gravitate toward. I honestly thought they would be larger in diameter than they are, and, as a person who is typically willing to pay more money to buy a product with less branding on it, I didn't love that there are five (yes, five) visible "Bvlgari" logos when you look at one of these watches on your wrist. However, strapping them on when we took the pictures you see here, I was kind of converted. Bulgari is great at cultivating that intangible sense of aspiration with its products, and I'll admit I fell under the spell. I started telling myself things like "well, the logos aren't that obvious" and "wow, this rubber/aluminum bracelet situation is really comfy" as I posed with the watches.
There's a lot to be said for that little bit of magic. Am I ever going to fully get over the five-logo situation? No. Would I prefer a plain rubber strap to this bracelet situation? Probably. But even with all of that in mind, I applaud Bulgari for consistently being able to conjure that sense of having something special on your wrist and making me want to spend more time with its watches. If you're a longtime Bulgari fan, you're probably already on board, but I suggest that even the skeptics among you give these watches another look. I was pleasantly surprised, and I think you might be too.
The Bulgari Aluminium models both retail for $2,950 and the Aluminium Chronograph retails for $4,250. Both are available immediately.
Editor's note: Watch companies sometimes announce new products to the HODINKEE editorial team and the HODINKEE Shop at the same time. Please note that the editorial team and the Shop team produce their content independently of each other.
BVLGARI has had a busy few years. Not only has the brand's Octo Finissimo collection of watches set a number of high-profile records – energizing contemporary ultra-thin watchmaking in the process – but BVLGARI is also the driving force behind Geneva Watch Days, a brand-new watch fair that opened in the Swiss city today. As part of the Geneva showcase, BVLGARI has announced a new collection of sport watches that marks the brand's return to aluminum, a lightweight material that it helped pioneer as a case metal in the watch industry in the late 1990s.
Three watches make up the new BVLGARI Aluminium lineup, a pair of three-handers with date and one chronograph, and all are now available in the HODINKEE Shop for pre-sale, with delivery intended for late September 2020. All three watches share the same round 40mm case profile made of aluminum paired with a titanium caseback and a rubber bezel and strap, a unique combination of metals and materials that carry over from the original watches, which first launched in 1998. The rubber bezel has the incised, double "BVLGARI" branding that has characterized the look of countless BVLGARI watches since the 1970s. These watches are classic BVLGARI – in every way.
The release of the original watches established BVLGARI as an early innovator in the sport-watch arena, prioritizing materials that emphasized both comfort and wearability – in addition to durability. While the concept of a luxury watch that wasn't made of a precious metal or steel wasn't widely accepted in 1998, BVLGARI has always been a trendsetter, and in 2020, you'll find a number of other well-known brands utilizing aluminum in their case constructions. None of them, however, bring the same authentic touch to the metal as today's trio of new watches. It's a different kind of vintage re-issue than you would typically find in the HODINKEE Shop, one that is both resolutely modern and thoroughly BVLGARI.
Aluminum is an underrated metal when it comes to sport-watch design. It's not just lightweight, it also features impressive durability, especially when combined with other elements to create an ultra-hard alloy. Don't forget – aluminum alloys are used by everyone, from aerospace engineers to sport car manufacturers, for their one-of-a-kind blend of lightness and resilience. BVLGARI is using exactly that here, a special aluminum alloy that is more resistant to wear.
Aluminum is cool to the touch and light on the wrist, and its execution here is matte and modest. The caseback is made of equally lightweight titanium, and both it and the crown (and pushers for the chronograph) have undergone a DLC treatment on all three watches. The rubber strap integrates directly into the redesigned chassis of the lugs, and two aluminum links are incorporated into both sides of the strap to help the watch better articulate around the wrist. An ardillon buckle made of – what else? – aluminum ensures a comfortable fit.
While the three watches all share a remarkably similar on-the-wrist profile, the dial is where the differences come into consideration. The two three-handers are both highly legible through contrasting hour markers and dial colors – black baton markers on an off-white, warm-grey dial; white baton markers on a black dial. Both of these watches feature a white date window at three o'clock and chunky Arabic numerals at six and 12 o'clock. A pencil-shaped pair of hour and minute hands are topped by a portion of white Super-LumiNova, while the seconds hand is all-white, save for contrasting red tips on its two ends: a syringe-style pointer and an open, circular counterweight. The chronograph option retains visual symmetry with three sub-dials, each with radial numerals that complement the surrounding, recessed BVLGARI verbiage on the sloping rubber bezel. The chronograph has the same off-white dial tone with black accents (sub-dials, hands, and hour markers/numerals) as the three-hander, while a date aperture is tucked cleanly at the 4:30 position.
The BVLGARI Aluminium Automatic has a slim on-the-wrist profile, with a thickness of just 9.4mm.
The caseback is made of DLC-coated titanium on all three new watches.
Another difference between the '90s aluminum models and today's releases are the movements inside. Where the examples from two decades ago were powered by quartz calibers, the new Aluminium models are powered by automatic movements. The three-handers utilize the BVLGARI B77, while the chronograph calls on the B130 – both are BVLGARI-branded ETA calibers, which ensure the reliable and robust performance you'd expect of a sport watch.
BVLGARI's ascent as a dynamic force in watchmaking has been decades in the works, and these new Aluminium watches place a spotlight on one of the brand's most memorable past innovations. They offer modern wearability and intricate detailing, in addition to a unisex look that is immediately recognizable as part of BVLGARI's individual visual language. The BVLGARI Aluminium collection are sport watches built for right now – they're lightweight and comfortable on the wrist, but durable enough to withstand daily wear around the house and beyond. They also represent an excellent value for a BVLGARI watch, with the Aluminium Automatics each priced under $3,000, at $2,950 each, and the Aluminium Chronograph at $4,250. You can learn more about the new BVLGARI Aluminium collection right now in the HODINKEE Shop.
Although many watches are aimed at folks with an active lifestyle, they often feature cumbersome stainless steel cases and fragile mechanical movements. Think of a "sports watch," and it probably checks both of those boxes. But with such a clearly defined intended use, why wouldn't the watch be fashioned from something light, and wouldn't a robust quartz movement handle shocks and impacts better than a mechanical movement?
This is the driving ideology behind the development of the Endurance Pro, a watch with a design that's congruent to its intended use. It's aimed squarely at active watch enthusiasts, and Breitling is even launching the watch with "The Breitling Endurance Pro Strava Challenge," a program that encourages wearers of the watch to rack up 500 minutes of swimming, running, cycling, hiking, or any sport that facilitates breaking a sweat and raising heart rates. Amateur athletes who complete that challenge are entered into a drawing to win Breitling swag, the top prize being a co-branded Breitling/Colnago bicycle.
The Endurance Pro is the spiritual successor to the Breitling Sprint, a chronograph produced in the 1970s that featured a resin case and a pulsometer scale. The Pulsometer scale, theoretically, could aid athletes taking their own heart rate measurements. This feature carries through to the modern Endurance Pro, and so does the use of a non-conventional material for the case. The Endurance Pro is made from Breitlight, which was introduced in 2016. It's 3.3 times lighter than titanium and 5.8 times lighter than stainless steel, which makes it ideal for sporting applications, but it's also interesting from a material science perspective. It's hypoallergenic, lightly textured, and Breitling reports that it "feels warmer to the touch than metal." While the case is black, the watch comes in five colorways: white, blue, yellow, orange, and red. It comes on a colored rubber strap, but matching Outerknown ECONYL NATO straps can be purchased from Breitling.
The Breitling Sprint used a resin case. It was released in the '70s.
Initial Thoughts
The "20-Year Rule" states that particular styles and trends in the fashion world work on a two-decade cycle: 20 years pass, and what's old is cool again. The Endurance Pro has an aesthetic that would fit right in on the set of Boy Meets World, and that's exactly what makes it particularly interesting to this author. For many collectors, the Endurance Pro will seem quite familiar. It reeks of "classic" Breitling from the '90s. The steady rise of athleisure in the fashion world over the last few years has set the stage for a release like this, but I'm sure it will surprise quite a few collectors as it harkens back to a much more recent era than many of the successful watches Breitling has introduced in the last year, like the Breitling Superocean Heritage '57 Capsule Collection or the Top Time Limited Edition.
Not everyone wants a Luminox or G-Shock to abuse while cycling or hiking – some folks want to jazz it up a little while they're out on the trails, and this is exactly the watch for such occasions. You get some serious heritage in a watch that's fully equipped to stand up to a proper flogging. Watch appreciation is a largely sedentary hobby – so any watch that asks folks to put in 500 minutes of strenuous activity is a great thing. At its core, the Endurance Pro is a fun watch, and we could always use more of that.
The Basics
Brand: Breitling Model: Endurance Pro Reference Number: X82310A51B1S1/X82310A41B1S1/X82310D51B1S1/ X82310A71B1S1/X82310D91B1S1
Diameter: 44mm Thickness: 12.5mm Case Material: Breitlight Dial Color: Black with various color accents Indexes: Applied Arabic numerals Lume: Super-LumiNova Water Resistance: 100m Strap/Bracelet: Nylon and rubber strap options
We are back this Wednesday with another selection of vintage watches up for grabs. Today, every watch falls into either the time-only or chronograph genre – save for a single time-and-date watch. All of the new watches come from big-label brands that will be familiar favorites, but some are uncommon variants of the classics you know well. Whether you're looking for a funky vintage chronograph or a new (to you) dress watch, we've got something for everyone this week.
1965 Breitling Navitimer Ref. 806 With Original Box
Breitling released the Navitimer in 1954 and has kept the watch in continuous production ever since. It's arguably one of the most recognizable chronographs from any brand, and it is certainly Breitling's best-known watch. The Navitimer's most recognizable attribute is the slide-rule scale on its bezel. This bezel was designed for pilots to calculate various details in the air, such as speed, fuel consumption, or even simple multiplication and division – all handled by simply turning the bezel. The slide-rule bezel execution was first featured by Breitling on the 1942 Chronomat, and it wasn't until over a decade later that it was integrated into the first Navitimer design.
1958 Patek Philippe Calatrava Ref. 2552 'Disco Volante'
Patek Philippe has released many different executions of its classic Calatrava over the decades. It's a fairly simple design to iterate on, as all that is required to be considered a Calatrava is a time-only dial and a round case shape. The ref. 2552 we have here fits the Calatrava categorization perfectly, but it is definitely one of the funkier historical executions. Known as the "Disco Volante," or flying saucer, this watch has some great characteristics you won't find on other Calatrava-style watches. These include the distinctive, stepped bezel that adds nice dimension to the case profile, and the semi-recessed crown that maintains the visual symmetry of the case.
1967 Omega Speedmaster Professional Ref. 105.012-66
Omega released the first Speedmaster in 1957, and from that point on, nothing would be the same for the chronograph genre. The original Speedmaster was intended to be a drivers' watch – hence the "speed" in Speedmaster – and it is considered the first chronograph to place a tachymeter scale on an external bezel. Omega submitted the Speedmaster to NASA for use in space during the Apollo missions, where it subsequently passed all the necessary tests to become the first flight-qualified watch for all manned space missions. The watch we have today is the first reference to feature the "Professional" language on the dial. It's also the same reference worn by many early astronauts, including Neil Armstrong when he set foot on the Moon in 1969.
The Full Story
In addition to the three highlight watches above, we have a beautiful Omega from 1962 with a butterscotch-colored tropical dial, a funky Vulcain Centenary from the 1960s, a mint 1960s Croton Chronomaster with broad-arrow style hands, and a seldom-seen 1970s Zenith El Primero Ref. A778. Head on over to the HODINKEE Shop to check out all the new vintage watches!
Geneva Watch Days are here, and Girard-Perregaux has launched several new models, including this limited edition version of the brand's Laureato sports watch. This new Laureato Infinity Edition marks a new exclusive German distribution agreement between Girard-Perregaux and Wempe. With a 42mm steel case and bracelet, the Laureato Infinity Edition is differentiated by its use of a black onyx dial, pink-gold markers, and will be made in a limited production run of 188 units.
Initial Thoughts
GP is also making a 38mm version that has a diamond-set bezel and is limited to 88 pieces, but we'll focus on the 42mm for now (accepting that the two versions are very similar). While the specific distribution deal is for Germany, the Laureato Infinity Edition will be sold exclusively through Wempe locations in Germany, New York, and London.
That 42mm case is matched by a thickness of 10.7mm and has an anti-reflective sapphire crystal, a sapphire display caseback, and a water resistance rating of 100 meters. As is common to the more sporty Laureato design, both versions come fitted to a matching steel integrated bracelet.
The movement in question is Girard-Perregaux's in-house GP01800-1404, which is a svelte 3.97mm-thick automatic movement with a pink-gold rotor, 54 hours of power reserve, and a running rate of 4 Hz. The movement can be seen via the Laureato's display caseback and, taking previous Laureatos into consideration, it will be beautifully finished, using both polished and satin finishes characteristic of the design.
While this limited edition is essentially little more than a special new dial, we don't see a lot of black onyx in watch dials these days, and it's a material that feels remarkably special on wrist. Furthermore, I think the subtle shape and gentle curves of the Laureato are a good home for such a dial and that the material will likely pair well with the pink-gold accents.
Given that the recent trajectory of the Laureato has been towards increasingly complicated and haute horology executions like the Absolute Rock and the Absolute Light, it's encouraging to see Girard-Perregaux continue to operate at the steely core of the Laureato, even if we're admittedly still talking about a $13,200 watch. Anyone else feel like onyx is an underplayed move these days? Or just me?
On the face of it, what we have here is a conservatively styled gentleman's dress watch in white gold with a visible tourbillon. But if you look a bit more closely, you'll see that this is quite an interesting and innovative take on a complication that has come, nowadays, to be viewed with somewhat less awe than it was several years ago.
The Heritage Tourbillon Double Peripheral, which first appeared in a rose-gold version about two years ago, is notable not only for its tourbillon – which is controlled by external gearing, giving the impression it is floating within the aperture at 12 o'clock – but also for its peripheral winding mechanism. This system opens up a broad swath of the white gold movement bridge on the back for the owner's visual enjoyment. The brand has made stunning use of this canvas in the form of an engraving of Lucerne's Chapel Bridge, a landmark that many familiar with the city will recognize. It is the oldest covered wooden bridge in Europe and a symbol of the Swiss city where Bucherer was founded.
Of course, Carl F. Bucherer is not the only watchmaker to make a peripheral winding system for an automatic watch, nor is it the only watchmaker to pair this type of mechanism with a tourbillon. Carl F. Bucherer has become known for peripherally winding watches, though, having presented the CFB A1000 back in 2008, which has led to subsequent in-house calibers using peripheral rotors.
Carl F. Bucherer paired its winding system with a tourbillon two years ago with the Manero Tourbillon Double Peripheral, an unlimited version of the same movement that was finished fairly simply with Geneva waves rather than an elaborate engraving. The movement also has the benefit of using a pallet and an escape wheel made from silicon, which reduces friction and the need for lubrication as well as having amagnetic properties. With seconds easily read via a hand on the tourbillon cage, this watch is also a C.O.S.C-rated chronometer.
Initial Thoughts
This watch as an impressive synthesis of horological engineering and the art of engraving. It has an unusual type of tourbillon that is impelled by a peripheral gear system and a movement that is peripherally wound – hence "Double Peripheral." Carl F. Bucherer says that each rear bridge requires more than two weeks of craftsmanship, and it shows, I think. While the detailed artwork of the famous Chapel Bridge is something that we've already seen in the form of the rose-gold version from a couple of years ago, I think it more than merits a second look.
The Carl F. Bucherer line of watches may have started as a project within a retailer – one of the biggest and most important watch retailers around, it should be noted – but that hasn't stopped the watchmaking arm from thinking really big and making serious investments in solving problems, like peripheral winding, that have challenged more entrenched watchmakers.
The Basics
Brand: Carl F. Bucherer Model: The Heritage Tourbillon Double Peripheral Reference Number: 00.10802.02.13.01
Diameter: 42.5mm Thickness: 11.9mm Case Material: White gold Dial Color: Silver, sunburst finish with milled rings decorating its periphery Indexes: White gold plated indexes Lume: No Water Resistance: 30 ATM Strap/Bracelet: Hand-stitched Louisiana alligator leather in dark brown, folding pin buckle in 18k white gold
The Movement
Caliber: CFB T3000 manufacture movement Functions: Hour, minute, small hacking seconds (on tourbillon), tourbillon Diameter: 36.5mm Thickness: 4.6mm Power Reserve: 65 hours Winding: Automatic with peripheral rotor Frequency: 21,600 Jewels: 33 Chronometer Certified: Yes, C.O.S.C.-certified
