Friday, 12 October 2018

Oris Divers SixtyFive 40mm Automatic with Blue & Black Dial - REVIEW


My regular readers (all four of you) may know that I worked at a wristwatch boutique from 2001 till 2012. This store sold twenty-one different Swiss brands, and Oris was one of them. When I started in the industry - briefly in late 1999 through to a few months into 2000 - I saw that many Swiss watchmaking houses were returning to production of mechanical wristwatches, produced alongside their quartz counterparts. By the time I got back into the industry eighteen months later, mechanical wristwatch production was becoming more widespread across the major brands. 

The 1970s brought about what later became known as The Quartz Crisis, as cheap, battery-powered watches began to emerge from Japan. This had far-reaching and irreversible effects on the Swiss watch industry, as many smaller watchmaking brands went bust while others merged in an effort to remain in business.  Other brands were later swallowed up by luxury brand juggernauts such as Richemont, The Swatch Group and LVMH, which stands for Louis Vuitton, Moet & Hennessy, to give you an indication of how many pies they have their fingers in. 

Oris remained independent for the most part throughout this turbulent period and, while dabbling in production of quartz-powered watches in the 1980s (like almost everyone else), the brand returned to manufacture of mechanical watches in the early 1990s, earlier than many larger Swiss brands like Longines, TAG Heuer and Tissot, for example. 

The Oris brand currently comprises of four main product ranges;

* Aviation, which carries a selection of pilot's watches and features their famous Big Crown model, which was first produced in 1938. It was christened the Big Crown because, that's right, it has a larger than normal winding crown to allow the watch to be set and wound while wearing flight gloves.  

* Motor Sport features a collection of watches and chronographs with dials that look like they've been taken from a racing car's dashboard. Very modern case designs and numeral fonts give much of this range a Formula 1 look, and some of the models employ high-tech materials such as carbon fibre for the dials or cases in PVD-coated stainless steel. 

* The Culture range is made up of dressier pieces, with both steel bracelet and leather strap options. This range provides a nice contrast to the rest of the Oris line-up and it is this collection that features watches with more complications (in watchmaking terms, this refers to other functions beyond mere time and date) such as triple-dates, moon-phase display, 24 hour time display, or 2nd time-zones.

*And, last but not least, the Diving range, which is a staple of many Swiss brands. I have to hand it to Oris for producing something like the TT Diver back in the early Noughties (picture taken from www.timezone.com ).

While I found it a little too modern for my tastes, it was a serious (and successful) attempt at creating a dive watch that looked different to much of what other brands were producing at the time. The slim, low-profile case design was certainly an update on the traditional dive watch, and it offered thick lugs with a smooth curvature to them, allowing for a wonderful low-profile fit on the wrist. The winding crown and Helium valve were both large, making for easy use with wet hands, and the dial legibility, with its long shark-tooth hour markers and spear-shaped hands gave us a diver's watch that brought something new to the table. This dive watch was a steady seller in my store back in the day.

Since its release, the TT Diver has been given a few tweaks to keep it fresh and has, in recent years, evolved into the current series known as the Aquis.

It's definitely a modern interpretation of classic dive watch design, while still retaining all of the elements that are necessary in a diver's watch;

- Clear readability of the dial.
- An easy-to-grip rotating bezel.
- A clearly visible running indicator (that's the seconds hand).
- More water-resistance than you'll ever need.

And, because this is one of my reviews, I may as well get the story started;

_______________________________

Los Angeles, January 1964

I handed in my resignation on Friday. Re-wrote it a dozen times before I was satisfied with it. Warner wasn't happy, but he understood why. A couple of inches higher and that .38 round would've sliced my heart in two.


Instead, it just killed my wristwatch and put a hairline fracture across my ulna.  
Anyway, I'll look for a new job once the arm heals. Maybe give Travis a call and see if I should put in an application at The Agency for their Summer intake.
But first, I need a new wristwatch.
______________________________________

Now, I've always considered Oris a very tricky brand. By this I mean, just when I think I've seen everything these guys have to offer, the company releases some new watch that makes me look twice.  I have to hand it to Oris for being so creative with its designs so consistently.
This is not a brand that tends to rest on the reputation of a few models. 

At the 2015 BaselWorld Watch and Jewellery Fair, Oris unveiled the Divers SixtyFive model, a conservatively-sized dive watch with a 100 metre water-resistance and a dial layout featuring a funky 1960s-era numeral font. It was a big hit, as wristwatch blogs lit up with praise for this watch. 

At 40mm in diameter, it was something of a gamble on Oris' part. The big watch craze that commenced sometime around 2003 (as far as I'm concerned) showed no signs of letting up, and to release a dive watch in this smaller size was a bold move. 
This piece was based on a 36mm dive watch from the Oris archives, a model that was first produced in 1965, hence the name of this new version. 
The numeral font has perhaps been the most polarising aspect of this watch. Some folks love it, some folks don't. 
Me? 
Well, you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? Tell ya about it later on.

This watch was a great success for the brand. So much so, that a 42mm version was released the following year. This one, though, had a different dial configuration, opting for a more traditional layout, once again based on a model from the Oris archives. Being a larger case size, it soon became a strong seller, since it was more in keeping with the larger-watch trend.

There were numerous other dial colours released throughout 2016. A Limited Edition model in a bronze case was produced to commemorate the life and achievements of Carl Brashear, the first African-American to become a Master Diver in the US Navy.

The bronze case was a nod to the materials used for old diving equipment. Bronze develops a patina over time and each of these 2,000 watches will age differently. 
This very popular model sold out quickly. The dial was a deep glossy blue and it contrasted beautifully with the markers and hands.
To learn more about Carl Brashear himself, here's the link to the Wikipedia page;


Based on the success of this model, Oris unveiled a chronograph version at BaselWorld earlier this year, again celebrating the life of Carl Brashear. Like the first version, this new model has generated a lot of internet watch forum buzz.

Getting back to the Divers SixtyFive, I was tempted to go for the 42mm model, but something kept holding me back. It has a sleek vintage dive watch look to it and, while it may at first glance hold a few design cues lifted from a 1950s Rolex Submariner, the more you look at it, the more differences you actually begin to see. 
The case design is different, opting for traditional squared-off edges rather than the beveled edges found on a Submariner. 
The dial arrangement consists of framed dot hour markers, similar to the Sub and many other dive watches that appeared in the 1950s and '60s, but again, closer inspection shows that these markers sit slightly higher on the dial than the Sub, and the two markers at the 6 and 9 cardinal points are boxier than the narrower rectangles of the Submariner dial.
The picket-fence hands make for great legibility against the deep blue dial and with a design far removed from the Mercedes-and-spear hands of the Submariner. 
As I say, the more you look at this watch, the further it distances itself from the Sub, and I think Oris were well aware of this and the risks of producing a watch that could be viewed as copying the most famous dive watch in the world.
Although, put this Oris watch down in front of somebody who's into wristwatches and the differences are all too clear to see.
For many watch collectors, the devil is in the details.

Yep, I was very tempted by this 42mm model, but there was just one thing stopping me from going for it - it was 42mm in diameter.

Looking at the other sports watches that I had, I felt my collection was a little top-heavy with 42mm pieces. The Omega Speedmaster Professional and Sinn 103 St Sa chronographs both measured 42mm, as did the WatchCo Omega Seamaster 300 rebuild. My other Seamaster dive watch, the Pierce Brosnan/Bond model 300m, hovered around 41mm.

Now, you might be asking What's a millimetre or two between friends?

Well, having sold watches for so long, having seen customers try on a multitude of watches on a multitude of wrists, and having collected watches for 20 years, I'd become very sensitive to differences in case sizes and can really notice the one or two millimetre disparity when a watch is on my own wrist. 

Not only that, but since I'd gotten myself a vintage Submariner 5513 a couple of years ago, I'd firmly adopted the view that I'd always suspected I had- basically, a 40mm dive watch is a more appropriate fit for my 6.5inch wrist. Besides, 40 mil gives a dive watch a more classic and vintage vibe. 

And so, as much as I liked the look of the 42mm Divers SixtyFive, I decided to pass on it. I've made enough errors of judgment during my watch collecting life. I've bought watches that I shouldn't have, I've sold watches that I should have kept. 
As such, I have a better understanding of myself as a watch collector and I just knew that had I gotten myself this 42mm model, it wouldn't get the wrist time that it deserves.

So, I took another look at the 40mm model, but I couldn't bring myself to get this one either. Reason being the black dial. I had enough dive watches with black dials. So, I held off and let it simmer on the back-burner of my mind for a while.


Of course, Oris being Oris, it had a trick up its sleeve. Namely, this beauty on the right.

Oh. You. Sneaky. Bastards. They'd done it again. Once this model became available, I tried it on.
It was all downhill from there.

The Oris Divers SixtyFive 40mm 
Model No: 01 733 7707 4035 - 07 8 20 18


THE PACKAGING

I don't place too much importance on the packaging of a wristwatch. Once you get the watch home from the store, the box ends up in some dark corner of a wardrobe, never to be seen again until you either get rid of the watch or your house burns down. 
I prefer the box to be smallish and discreet, since I'll most likely not use it for any other purpose. Some brands used to have a removable insert so that you could re-purpose the box for something else, like putting it on your desk and filling it with unfiltered Camels or jelly beans. 
These days, though, many brands have created boxes with fixed inserts that can't be removed, so you're left with a box that's only designed to hold the watch. 
Which is handy if you decide to sell the watch one day.
                                                                                    ___________________________

Saigon, May 1966

My wristwatch got smashed up in an alley in District 3. I'd had it for less than two years, for Pete's sake.
It was way past curfew. I was following a Viet Cong informer when two of his buddies appeared out of nowhere armed with a couple of switchblades. I had to fend 'em off with a garbage can lid and a broken Johnnie Walker bottle, looking like a cross between a Roman gladiator and a Hackensack barfly. 
One of them gave up the fight pretty quick after I caressed his arm with the bottle. That sent him running. 
His pal was a little more ambitious, slamming me hard against a wall. That's what did the wristwatch. Then he gave my arm a taste of his blade. 
By that stage, I'd had enough and decided to overreact, using the bottle AND the lid on him. By the time I was done, the informer was long gone. I managed to get out of there and back to the safe-house without being spotted by any NVA troops.
At any rate, my cover was blown that night as far as Saigon was concerned. Station Chief  Sheldrake had me on an Air America flight out of Bangkok next day. 
I had the cut on my arm properly tended to when I got back Stateside and then went out and bought a new wristwatch. Compared to what I had, this watch does seem a little large. Sure feels sturdy, though. And it's not afraid of water. Probably a good thing. Nice and easy to read, too.
Wonder where I'm headed next?
______________________________________

The box is nice. In keeping with the vintage vibe of the watch, it's of a dark blue cardboard and features the old Oris logo of years gone by, with the words 'Heritage - Swiss Made' printed on it. 
Inside is a slot with a cushion to clamp the watch around. This box goes into a slightly larger black cardboard box with contains a slot for the Owner's Manual and Warranty card. Nice and simple. 

THE CASE

The case of the Divers SixtyFive is an exercise in simplicity. The lugs are angled, with a nice taper towards the bracelet. Viewed from the side, the lugs slope downward, making for a good fit. The 40mm diameter of the case goes against the current trend for larger watches, and Oris exercised restraint in not making this a 42mm or 44 mm watch.
As mentioned, the original watch on which this one is based measured 36mm, a common size for dive watches back in the 1960s (when scuba diving really began to take hold as a recreational sport), but the more well-known dive watches of the time were closer to 40mm in diameter. Choosing to release the Divers SixtyFive in 40mm was an inspired move.
Many brands have dipped into their archives in recent years to produce modern versions of older models. Oris have done this from time to time over the past decade, most notably with the Chronoris re-edition back in 2007, which was based on a model from 1970. Again, this re-issue was a larger size than the original, aimed at modern tastes.



At 40mil, this watch sits nicely on my 6.5 inch wrist, and with a case thickness of 12.8mm, it doesn't scream 'look at me!'

As a point of difference to the original model, and most other current dive watches from other brands, the rotating bezel is coated in glossy black PVD instead of being left in stainless steel. It’s a nice touch. The bezel insert is of black anodized aluminium, like dive watches of old. While we are now in an age of ceramic bezel inserts, I myself much prefer a simple aluminium bezel.


The crystal is domed sapphire. This was a virtual impossibility about fifteen years ago, as it was extremely difficult to produce a sapphire crystal in this shape. Back then, sapphire crystals were flat, mineral or acrylic crystals were domed. Sapphire crystals were (and still are) almost impossible to scratch, mineral and acrylic could scratch quite easily. Quick tutorial - mineral crystals are made of silica-based tempered glass. Acrylic crystals are made of plastic, as the name suggests. Sapphire crystals were developed sometime in the '90s, I think.

I prefer the look of mineral or acrylic, but I like the strength of sapphire. I like mineral and acrylic crystals for the way they distort the printing on the dial depending on the viewing angle, and I like the old-school look that they give the watch. 
So, I was happy to see modern watches come out in recent years with domed sapphires. On the SixtyFive, it works beautifully, and it still creates the distorting effect of mineral and acrylic crystals. Again, this adds to the vintage appeal of the Divers SixtyFive series. 

The crown is a screw-down arrangement, with no 'shoulders' on either side of it. One could argue that shoulders - raised metal barriers on the side of the case, designed to offer some protection to the crown from glancing blows - would have been a wise addition to the case design, but I have yet to hear or read of a Divers SixtyFive's crown being knocked off the case due to impact.

_____________________

East Berlin, July 1966
                                                      
Gunther Hoffmann was an  upper-level cipher clerk working in the Stasi's Directorate of Cryptology. This gave him direct access to all manner of sensitive communications between East Berlin and Moscow.
Everything from how far the Reds had gotten with their space program, to placement of undercover KGB agents around the world. A virtual goldmine of information. 
The Agency decided he'd be an asset worth having.

Hoffmann would get to work at eight am sharp and work through till six pm each day. His half-hour lunch break was usually taken at a wooden bench in the Städtischer Friedhof cemetery.  His wife had died of breast cancer a year ago, leaving him and their daughter behind. He'd been visiting her grave ever since. 

One of our boys made initial contact with him at a cafe near his apartment, posing as a salesman from the Optima typewriter company. The place was full and our guy offered a seat to Hoffmann at his small round table one evening. They made occasional small talk while they both read the day's papers. 
Our agent was good. He was very, very good. He spent the next four months 'bumping into' Hoffmann at the cafe until their small talk turned to the State and the way it was run. About the corruption, the black markets, the poor state of education and health care. It was then that Hoffmann began to open up about his views on life in East Berlin since the Wall went up in '61. That was our cue. 
Our guy casually mentioned at their next 'chance meeting' that he knew somebody who knew somebody from The West. Somebody who could get Hoffmann out of the Communist grip. 
That was enough to plant the seed in Hoffmann's head. 
The Agency's plan was fast and loose. The idea was to fake Hoffmann's death, get him over to The States, and have him go through any intercepted transmissions that we got from East Berlin. As long as we could stage his death convincingly enough, the Stasi would have no reason to suspect anything, and so therefore, they wouldn't change any of the codes used in communications to Moscow. Under no circumstances was he to take any intelligence with him. We didn't want to arouse any suspicion whatsoever.

That's where Carson and I came in. I was to use my charm, but Carson wanted to be a little more persuasive. I'd never worked with the fella before, but I'd heard about him. Ex-Marine sharpshooter back in Korea during the War, before transferring to Army Intelligence afterwards. Ten years of that and then he joined the CIA. He represented everything that was wrong with the Agency today, but he was known to get the job done. By any means necessary. 
Although, since Hoffmann was my asset, I had operational control. But he wasn't gonna make a move unless his daughter came along too, even though they'd become estranged since Frau Hoffmann had died. Problem was, she didn't want to leave Berlin, no matter how bleak it was. She was enjoying her studies, and had friends here, he told me.
We'd be meeting with him at ten o'clock tonight in this shabby little hotel room, to try and dangle another carrot in front of him. Reassure him that we could get him and his daughter safely to the US. 
Carson drank the last of the coffee and finished all my cigarettes after burning through his own pack of French nails. He'd spent two months working out of the Paris desk last year. Now he thinks he's Jean-Paul Belmondo.

Twenty minutes later, he was stepping out to go buy some more. Said he knew a black marketeer who had the last three cartons of Gitanes left in East Berlin. Said he could even get me Marlboros for three US dollars a pack. More than ten times what I'd pay for them back home,  for cryin' out loud! 
I gave him six bucks. 
Life was expensive this side of Checkpoint Charlie.
"Get some more coffee while you're at it", I said. Told him not to hurry, either.
That way, I might get a chance to finish the book I was reading. 
And I'd also have a break from Carson. I really didn't like the guy.
Can you tell?
___________________________

The crown screws down securely, giving the watch its 100 metres of water-resistance. Your diving purists would argue that 100m does not make for a true dive watch, but this depth rating is more than adequate for recreational diving where you are likely to only go down as deep as 30 or 40 metres. 
There are no protective 'shoulders' on either side of it, in keeping with vintage watch design. This should pose no problem. If you are as reasonably careful with this watch as you would be with any other watch with no crown guards, you will have no issues.


THE HANDS

Just like the original model, the current one features plain picket-fence hands. These ones have a generous layer of SuperLuminova, making for easy legibility in the dark. The seconds hand has an easily seen lumed dot towards its outer third, further taking its cues from vintage dive watches.



THE DIAL

As mentioned earlier, perhaps the most polarising and talked-about feature of this watch's overall look was the dial, or rather, the numerals. I'll admit that it gave me pause. Did I like those kooky numbers? Would I get sick of them?

This alone was the most different visual element of this watch when compared to my other dive watches.
And then, the more I thought about it, the more I remembered certain things from my years as a watch collector and seller;

                                         - When I first started in the watch industry, I spoke to the Breitling Sales Manager. We got to talking about certain models in the Breitling range and I mentioned the bezel design of the Blackbird, Crosswind and Aerospace models. (pic below courtesy of www.breitling.com )

I'd said that the cardinal points of the rotating bezel were unlike those found on many other watches on the market. He replied that these were created this way to be something of a trademark design of the brand;

"We designed the bezels this way so that somebody who knows about wristwatches would see one of our watches on someone's wrist from across the room and instantly recognise it as a Breitling", he added.

I knew exactly where he was coming from. Placing distinctive markers on those four points does make a watch stand out.
That conversation took place back in 1999, and Breitling still use these four markers on the bezels of many watches in their current line-up.
It has indeed become a trademark of theirs, making a Breitling watch instantly recognisable.

- I also remembered that there are a number of other brands that use distinctive markers on the dial at those four compass points. The Eterna Kontiki models, for example have also employed this dial configuration. Both the 1960s version (on the left) and the current iteration (right) share the same DNA and the mere highlighting of these four numbers on the dial makes for an eye-catching design.
This was quite a popular look for many dive watches of the era, as I saw the 12, 3, 6 and 9 numerals highlighted on many vintage dive watches during my late night trawls across eBay and other dealer sites.

________________________
East Berlin, mid Sept 1966

Her name was Ursula. She was 19 years old. Was doing well at the State University. Wanted to be a nurse. Had a steady boyfriend, a nice young man that her father approved of. All of that was blown to hell now. 
One bullet made sure of that. 
It was the landlady, Trude, who discovered the body. She used her master-key to let herself in to Ursula's rooms after knocking on the front door a few times and getting no reply. Found the girl and called me. I gave Trude my number months ago. Most of her family was in West Berlin, so she fully knew where I was coming from and what I did for a living.
Don't know why I checked for a pulse. Her skin was ice cold. Single shot through the half-open window. Caught her in the chest, right through the heart, while she sat there painting her nails. She landed face-up on the bed.  Would've been instant. I hope so.
Now I had to call Hoffman. To tell him his daughter was dead.
_______________________________________________________ 
 

The more I thought about it, the more I began to appreciate the dial layout. The numeral font bugged me for about a week, until it hit me - all of a sudden one night while casually glancing at the time - that this font was perfectly in keeping with 1960s typographic style and these numbers have a slight 'Sixties sci-fi' look to them.
Once I made that realisation, I began to like them more and more.


And, when compared to the mid-Sixties original model, in this photo courtesy of www.timeandtidewatches.com...

...the similarities are evident and one can clearly see that Oris has remained faithful to the original 36mm watch's design. Props to the brand for creating a nicer dial symmetry with the modern version by placing the unobtrusive date window down at six and not giving it a contrasting border, which would draw the eye to it.
On the original model (left) you can see that the number 3 has been 'bitten into' by the date window, slightly upsetting the balance of the rest of the dial.
This modern iteration is truly a watch that looks like it was pulled from a time capsule.
Each of the four numerals is ever-so-slightly trapezoid and they sit in a large square of faux-aged SuperLuminova. The rest of the hour markers are also luminous. It actually took me about four or five months to realise that the lume was done using a pale greenish hue, rather than Oris opting for the standard white.


I'm usually not a fan of this recent mania for fake-aged SuperLuminova on a watch dial. The 60th Anniversary Omega 1957 Trilogy released last year is a faithful reproduction of the original Speedmaster, Seamaster 300, and Railmaster models of the past, but Omega opted to go with a faux-aged lume on the dials and hands. This was a mistake, in my view. The watches are brand new, they look brand new, but the dials look old and faded;. (pic courtesy of watchtime.com)

Regarding the dial of this new Divers SixtyFive, it was the subtle mix of black and blue that really pushed me over the edge. It starts off as a black disc from the middle going out three quarters of the way towards the edge where it is surrounded by the minute track. This in itself is a nice touch, as it further differentiates this Oris from many dive watches on the market. The minutes are not situated on the outer edge of the dial. 
Then, where the hour markers and numerals are located, we have a ring of an absolutely beautiful shade of cobalt blue.











In low light, the entire dial looks black. Take the watch into bright natural light and the outer edge lifts into the blue ring. Put on a pair of sunglasses and look at the dial and the blue takes on a purple tinge.
It's almost like having  three watches in one.

___________________________
East Berlin, mid November 1966

The newspapers had reported it as a random act, while the East German authorities promised 'a thorough investigation and swift justice.'


Hoffmann ceased communications with us after she was killed. Blamed me for it when I broke the news of her death to him. We thought it might have been the Stasi's way of putting out a warning to all concerned. It seemed to be their style. 
However, based on our intelligence, Hoffmann was still working in the Directorate. He was given a week's compassionate leave, to arrange and attend her funeral. 

I kept trying to get hold of him, with no luck. Our man, the fella posing as the typewriter salesman, caught up with him at the cafe one morning. Hoffman invited him back to his apartment for dinner later that week.
It was there that our agent, code-named 'Plier', got him talking after a few glasses of  vodka from a bottle he'd brought as a gift. Hoffman spilled his guts, telling him about our attempts to lure him to the West. Acting as 'a concerned friend', Plier managed to convince Hoffmann to get in touch with me, telling him that 'a fresh start in a new place' might be the best thing for him. 

Another month passed before Hoffmann called me on my secure line. It was a short conversation where I arranged to meet him at the safe house one last time. He would either come over to our side or he would not. I knew I'd have to practically beg him to believe that my organization had nothing to do with Ursula's murder. 
In the meantime, I visited Trude at the boarding house, to thank her for her assistance. As I left the building afterwards, I looked down at the gutter and found a crumpled Gitanes pack poking out from under the wheel of a Beetle.
'Couldn't be', I thought to myself. Carson had returned Stateside after our meeting with Hoffmann at the safe-house in July. 
__________________________________________


THE BRACELET

The bracelet. Ahh, the bracelet. When looking at the watch itself, there was no other bracelet design that was going to work with this watch. It's a classic, three-link arrangement, similar to what was found on Submariner dive watches of the 1950s, complete with a faux-riveted edge. Now, one could argue that this design was heavily borrowed from Rolex, but the rest of the watch is so far removed from the Submariner design that I, for one, can forgive the bracelet similarity. Besides, the three-link design was adopted by so many other brands back then, and it's also a strong bracelet due to its composition. Three links across make for a solid bracelet. The fewer the links, the less that can go wrong. Less stretch, less twist. At least, that's what I noticed over the years in the watch game.


The whole bracelet has a matte finish, which tends to hide scuffs and scratches a little better than a polished finish.
The rivets on the side of the links are non-removable. Removable links are further down, closer to the clasp. It's a simple pin-and-tube arrangement, held together by friction. Each link has a hole drilled through it. The central link has a small tube in it. A long pin is pushed into the link from the outer edge and is tapped into this central link tube. The tube has a slight crimp in it and this holds the pin in place.
This is a basic, tried & tested link design and is used by a lot of brands. It's strong enough for daily use and it helps to keep the cost down. Pins and tubes can easily be replaced if/when they wear out. 

THE MOVEMENT

The Divers SixtyFive houses a Sellita Calibre SW-200 automatic movement. I won't go into too much detail about watch movements. There are numerous websites that offer better information than I could supply. The Swatch Group is the major player in the recent history regarding Swiss watch movements. At the turn of the century, The Swatch Group was supplying movements to a vast majority of Swiss watch brands.

Basically, The Swatch Group owns ETA, the largest Swiss watch movement manufacturing company. In 2003, Swatch Group CEO Nicolas G. Hayek announced that his company would cease supplying watch movements to watch companies outside of the Swatch Group. This would not happen overnight, but was designed to be a gradual trickling down of supply that would be cut off completely by 2011. 
It was a complicated process, nicely explained on the third page of this article from www.ablogtowatch.com;


This left the rest of the Swiss watch industry with a couple of choices; go back to in-house production of watch movements or source movements from other manufacturers. 
Sellita was a watch movement and component manufacturer that was already supplying parts to The Swatch Group for its movements, so this company was already well-versed in the technical aspects of The Swatch Group's movements. Since the patents for many ETA movements had expired some time ago, Sellita was able to reproduce these movements for use by watch brands outside of The Swatch Group umbrella.

Oris is one of the brands currently using Sellita movements.  However, the brand produced its own in-house hand-wound Calibre 110 in 2014, to mark the 110th Anniversary of the Oris brand. 

It takes a lot of R & D to come up with a new watch movement and this one caused a lot of watch geeks to sit up and take notice when it was released. It features a ten-day power reserve with an indicator on the dial. Fully wound, this watch will run for ten days and the dial shows how much power is stored in the mainspring. Think of it as similar to a fuel gauge on the dashboard of a car. 
Oris has since gone on to add the Calibres 111, 112 and 113 to its collection, each with differing functions. No mean feat when you consider that other brands offer similar power reserves with some of their watches, but charge almost double the price of the Oris equivalents.

The Divers SixtyFive contains a Calibre 733, a modified Sellita SW200 calibre. It's an automatic movement with a 38 hour power reserve and hacking seconds -  which means you can stop the watch ticking, to synchronise the seconds hand, like a RAF pilot before a mission over Normandy.

It's dependable, easy to work on, and offers a central seconds hand and date complication. It's a basic workhorse watch movement. As such, it is used by a myriad number of watch brands. Also, with a little tweaking, you can get Chronometer-level timekeeping out of this movement.
What's not to love?
As with almost all Oris movements, the rotor is given an anodised coating in red and this has become a signature of the brand over the last fifteen years or so.


The dive watch is a staple of most watch brands. Their sales and manufacture began to climb back in the late 1950s/early 1960s as scuba diving grew in popularity.
Having amassed a varied collection of watches over the last 20 or so years, I realised that, as far as sports watches go, I prefer a dive watch over any other type of watch with a secondary purpose. These kinds of timepieces (hated phrase) are known as 'tool watches'. Basically, they're designed to provide another function beyond mere time and date. That's my take on what a tool watch is. Another definition explains them as being for a specific purpose or to help perform a certain task. For example, chronographs offer a stopwatch function, GMT or world-timers allow you to set the watch for two or more time-zones.
Even though I have two chronographs, I rarely find myself having to time anything of great importance. As for a GMT watch, while it would be nifty to have one (and I just might one day), I really don't travel enough to warrant having one.

A dive watch, though, I can easily justify, despite the fact that I don't dive. For me, the appeal of this kind of watch lies in its sharp legibility. A well done dive watch displays the time with no margin for error. Its readability is its greatest strength, as far as I'm concerned.
That's the visual appeal. Function-wise, aside from telling the time, the rotating bezel comes in handier on dry land than you think. Set the bezel marker against the minute hand and you can count down a lunch break, a hard-boiled egg, or a parking meter at a glance.
Also handy is the water-resistance. The Divers SixtyFive is rated down to 100 meters, more than enough for recreational dives. For mere mortals like myself on a day-to-day basis, this watch is water-protected against splashes at the kitchen sink, reaching into a bucket of water, days at the beach, and also an occasional shower, provided the crown is screwed down properly and the rubber seals are doing what they should.
For me, this is the appeal of a dive watch on a practical and aesthetic level.

Although, beyond that, a dive watch holds a greater allure for me in terms of what it represents on a sub-conscious level.
I associate dive watches with scuba diving, for one thing. Even though, as I say, I don't dive or ever have. This in turn ties in with the worlds of deep sea exploration, ancient sunken treasures, National Geographic articles and photo-shoots.
I also associate them with James Bond, having seen my first Bond movie as an impressionable kid back in the mid '70s. Certainly, his Submariner has it's place in cinematic 007 lore, but he's also worn Omega Seamaster dive watches on-screen for almost 25 years now.
In short, a dive watch represented the type of watch that a man of action would wear, whether he was a fictional British super-spy, famed French oceanographer Jacques-Yves Cousteau, an '80s Formula 1 driver, or actor Steve McQueen.

_____________________________
West Berlin, Christmas Eve, 1966

We got Hoffmann into West Berlin a week ago, in the hidden compartment of a refrigerated meat transport van, with 'Schneider Butchers' painted across its sides. He was shaking like a leaf by the time we got him out of there. I poured him a hot and strong black coffee from a thermos I'd brought along before he was taken to Federal Intelligence Service headquarters (the Bundesnachrichtendienst, or BND for short) and given a physical. He was then debriefed by his new handlers. 
He stayed hidden in West Berlin for a week or so before boarding a C-130 at Ramstein Air Force Base which would take him to the US. Langley would be his next stop after that, where he'd be welcomed with open arms. My job here was done. Two days from now, I'd be back Stateside. Just in time for New Year.
Meanwhile the BND got to work. Agents stationed in East Berlin took Hoffman's Trabant P50 from outside his apartment one night. That same evening, the Schneider Butchers truck crossed over into East Berlin via Checkpoint Charlie. With the body of a 55 year-old hobo in the hidden compartment. He'd died in Spandau of pneumonia. Police found him slumped over on a park bench the day before. It had been a particularly cold winter. He was a few years older than Hoffmann, but of similar build. A BND agent was made up to look like Hoffmann, with a wig of greying hair and tortoise-shell glasses. The hobo's body was loaded into the trunk of the Trabant. Along with a can of gasoline. The agent drove out to the Stadtforst. It would all go to hell if he was stopped by police. 

The body was burnt beyond recognition, making a positive identification impossible.  The Stasi listed it as a suicide. Perfectly understandable given the recent events in Hoffmann's life. His desk was cleaned out and another staffer took his place at the Directorate. 
The hobo was buried in East Berlin, under the name of Gunther Hoffmann, while over in a small church cemetery in West Berlin, the BND spent the necessary money for a casket. And a tombstone with his real name, Otto Kreisler, chiselled onto it. The grave, of course was empty. He had no next-of kin. Well, none that came forth. 

I was packing my bag on my last night in Berlin, at the motel that I'd called home for the last six months, when there was a knock at my door. It was Carson, with a bottle of Old Grand-Dad. No doubt procured from his black marketeer. 
"A night-cap, to say bon voyage", he said, as he headed for the kitchenette to fetch a couple of glasses. "And a Happy New Year", he added after he poured us a couple. I still didn't like him.
A little time passed and we made small talk as he poured me a second drink - it was free, after all - I opened the desk drawer, fished out the crumpled Gitanes pack and tossed it on the bed.
Carson stared at it a long time. 
"Found it near his daughter's rooming house", I said. 
He took his time to answer. "He needed a push. A reason not to stay. So we gave him one." He took a long pull of his bourbon. 
"I get back to Langley, I'm reporting you. I already checked. HQ didn't sanction this. You're done for."
"Take it easy, Ritts. We got the outcome we wanted, what do you care? Like I say, he needed a push. Here, have another drink. Relax", he drawled as he reached for the bourbon.
"We got the outcome you wanted. You're through, Carson", I replied, resisting the urge to slam my knuckles through his face.
Carson took the bottle by the neck and in one swift move, swung it toward my head. It clocked me on the left temple and sent me reeling across the room. I felt a vise instantly tighten across my skull as I fell and my face and hands went cold. I heard quickened footsteps on broken glass. Carson wasn't gonna stick around to get me an ice-pack. 

It wasn't a hard enough blow to knock me cold, but it hurt like hell just the same. I shook my head quickly to clear it (didn't work), touched my throbbing temple and felt some swelling already. I looked at my fingers. There was blood on them. 
The door to my room was wide open and I heard the staccato sound of steps on the stairs. I got up off  the floor, staggered over to the door and shook my head a few more times. Bourbon flicked across the wall from my hair. Then  I went after him.

I stumbled down to street level and looked left and right. Carson was about a hundred yards away. He made a dash into an alley. I got there   in time to see him clamber over a wooden fence half-way down. So much for dead-ends. I reached it about ten seconds later and hauled myself over it, cursing the fact that I didn't grab the Colt from my motel room. 
I landed on my feet in time to see him exit the other end of the alley and run across the road. 
He got almost half-way before he was struck by a large white van.
With the name 'Schneider Butchers' painted across its sides.
'Merry Christmas, Carson', I thought to myself as I slowly approached the alleyway exit trying to catch my breath.
Before I passed out.
________________________________________

Anything else, Teeritz?

Okay, since you're asking.
The Divers SixtyFive occupies a nice place among today's dive watches, as far as I'm concerned. Oris did a great job in delving into its past to create a modern dive watch that incorporates elements from the previous model.
The case offers a sleek profile that will slide under a shirt cuff for the office, while also offering a robust sports watch that can handle the pool or the beach with ease.
The dial, love it or hate it, is like no other dive watch on the market, offering clear readability and beautiful contrast. This two-tone dialed model brings a nice point of difference to the table, helping to further distance this model from the stable of black-dialed dive watches on the market from other brands. The '60s-font numerals at the cardinal points of the dial are an added bonus. Your views may vary.
This is the kind of watch that will appeal to somebody who wants something a little different to the traditional dive watch dial configuration.

It might also appeal to somebody who already has a few dive watches and is after something just that little bit different to the rest of their collection.

I got mine in November 2016 and it very quickly became the wristwatch that I wore most often throughout 2017. The bracelet has a nice worn-in look to it now. Small scuffs here and there. The watch is now truly mine. Every scratch makes it more personal, more unique to oneself.

Surprisingly, this watch works very well on a black or blue NATO strap. Oris itself offers a dark blue NATO strap with a thin black stripe running down the length of it. Although, I love the bracelet on this watch and I tend not to switch things around.

______________________________
Paris, January 4th, 1967
                                   
Needless to say, I didn’t get out of Berlin on Christmas Eve. Carson and I were rushed to Charité Univesitätsmedizin (the university hospital). He was in much worse shape than I was, but the way my head felt, I’d argue that was debatable.

It was a six-minute ride at breakneck speed. Didn’t make a difference, though. Carson was pronounced dead on arrival to the Emergency Room.

They took care of my head wound and gave me some painkillers. I spent Christmas Night in a very comfortable bed and woke up late the next morning to a visit from a couple of the boys from the BND. I gave them the run-down of the previous evening’s events, but blurred the truth a little and spun them a tale. 
Something about him coming to my hotel room drunk, depressed and angry after missing out on a big promotion back at the Los Angeles field office. Told them that he blamed me for missing out on the job and he came to see me to 'voice his disappointment'.  They took some notes and left me alone after that. I checked myself out of the hospital next day. 



I hopped a military transport flight out of Tempelhof Airport the day after that and reported in at the Agency’s New York office for a debrief on the second-last day of 1966. Head-of-Station Henderson agreed that Carson had acted without Agency approval. His body was flown back to the US and buried at Arlington National. It was better than he deserved. 


New Year’s Eve saw me on an afternoon flight to Paris. The General Intelligence Directorate had evidence of ex-OAS members planning an attack on the US Embassy in Paris.

I rung in 1967 over the Atlantic with a glass of champagne and a pleasant conversation with a Pan Am stewardess named Gloria, who bore a striking resemblance to Angie Dickinson.
She told me she spoke fluent French and said she had a three-day stop-over in Paris. 
"I'd be happy to show you around, Tyler. I know a great little bistro in the 2nd Arrondissement", she added. 
Only a fool would have said 'no'. 

EPILOGUE

By chance, I ran into Hoffmann in Washington in the middle of '71. He asked if we could have a coffee someplace. I heard myself say 'sure'.  I was uncertain as to what I would say to him, but I owed him some form of explanation or clarification. We found a nearby diner and grabbed a booth towards the back. 
After the waitress delivered our coffees, Hoffmann spoke. 
"I know it was your friend who killed Ursula."
I raised a hand to protest, but he waived me off. I kept quiet. He had to get it out. And I should give him the opportunity to do so.
"Well, I know he wasn't your 'friend', as such, but rather your colleague", he continued. "The BND agents explained to me during my debriefing that Carson operated on his own", he said.
"I'm sorry, Gunther", was all I could muster. 
"No, don't be, Mr Ritts. You should carry no guilt or blame for it. I long ago realized that you were the angel in all of this, but you were outnumbered by demons."
"The Agency had no idea of Carson's intentions. They didn't authorize it", I added. 
"Oh, I'm sure that is true. But one demon is enough. And we were all in Hell, after all."
It was either very eloquent or very flowery. I'm not sure which. 
But it was true nonetheless. 

We talked a little about his life in America. He still couldn't believe how different it was to where he had come from. He said he was happy here. He felt free. 
He finished his coffee, stood up and held out his hand. I got up and shook it, looked him in the eye and gave him a slight nod. 
Then he turned and walked out of the diner. After a few minutes, I signalled the waitress. She came over and I ordered another coffee. 
I wanted to think a little more about it all.
____________________________________________________


While the Divers SixtyFive was perhaps aimed at the recreational dive watch market, the truth is that your average customer was more likely to wear their dive watch sitting at a desk rather than at the helm of a Zodiac inflatable. At least,that's what I noticed over the decade of selling watches.
Dive watches were, and still are, a popular type of wristwatch.
Which is why I chose the Cold War angle for the narrative vignettes in this review. To me, it seemed to fit perfectly, since I've always considered the dive watch to be a great, all-purpose kind of wristwatch for daily wear. Robust, clearly legible in any light, and with a handy rotating bezel.

There are a myriad number of dive watches on the market today. Virtually every brand offers one. However, the Oris Divers SixtyFive is a true stand-out.
In or out of the water.

Thanks for reading!

*******************





CREDITS

- Thanks again to wikipedia.com for the info regarding East and West Berlin during the Cold War and Saigon during the Vietnam War.
Any errors and inaccuracies regarding the facts are my own. As usual.
And once again, all my cutting and pasting from Word has resulted in a variety of fonts. Ahh, well...

Thanks to my daughter for posing as a hand model in one of the story photos.
Thanks to my son for helping with a couple of photos.
Thanks to my wife for putting up with me. 

Story photos copyright, Teeritz, 2018.
Story photos taken with an Olympus Pen-F on Key Line Art Filter setting.


PLEASE NOTE: Some of the creative snippets were edited on April 24th, 2020.  
EDIT: 22/9/2020 - I used to refer to this watch as the Diver SixtyFive, but it is actually known as the Divers SixtyFive. I've gone through this review to add the letter 's' on the end of the word 'Diver', to reflect the correct name of the watch.

Sunday, 23 September 2018

Cat in The Dentist's Chair, My Wallet is a Sieve, Smoke Gets In Your Nose + Recent Wristwatches.


As a result of being so busy at work, plus the fact that the job involves staring at a computer screen for most of the day, I've found myself spending less time online in my spare time.
Which explains the reduced frequency of my blog posts these days.

Say 'Aaah'. Here's a shot of Madame yawning. Right place at the right time. You can see that the left side of her mouth is missing the long upper canine. When we got her home, I noticed her making some chewing motions from time to time, with what appeared to me a confused look on her face.
When I took her back to the vet a week later for a follow-up visit, the gum had gotten swollen a little and infected. I asked the vet if there was a possibility that the cat's lower tooth might have been biting down on the tender area where the upper tooth had been. She said that this was a possibility. A round of antibiotics was in order. Thankfully, it all subsided a week or so after that. Still, just to play it safe, I think Dussy is off the super-hard foods from now on. Maybe some small dry food in the morning and softer stuff for the other meal. With her usual afternoon snack thrown in.

Watch-wise, I've been wearing the Rolex Submariner a little more;

I managed to snag another copy of the 1960s Bond analysis by Kingsley Amis, The James Bond Dossier.
About 20 years ago, when I was working at the first Borders Bookstore in Australia, a lady came in asking about a hardcover copy of a George RR Martin book, I forget the title.
We didn't have it in stock and looking through the store's database, there were no plans for us to bring it in. It appeared to be out of print at the time. She went on to tell me that she owned a second-hand bookstore nearby. I took her details and told her I'd give her a call if the book ever showed up.
A few months later, we opened up a parcel of remaindered books sent to us from headquarters in The States and there in the box was a hardbound copy of the book that this lady had asked about months before. I made a mental note to check it out once it had been processed into the system and priced.
A couple of days later, the book was in our bargain section, selling for the princely sum of $3.50.
I bought it at the 30% staff-discounted price, put it in a bag and spent my lunch hour walking over to the lady's second-hand bookshop nearby.
I walked in, reminded her of who I was, and then handed the book over. She was ecstatic. "How much do I owe you?, she asked, beaming as she looked at the cover one more time.
The book had cost me less than a cup of coffee.
"Don't worry about it", I replied as I began to turn to leave her shop. She thanked me again and we bid our goodbyes. As I made my way to the door, I spied a copy of the Amis book on display.
"How much is the Amis book?", I asked, pointing to it.
She picked it up of the shelf, flipped open the cover, glanced at it and then said; "It's yours. Take it."
We did the old 'Oh, no, I can't/ Oh, yes, but I insist' dance for a moment or two before I accepted the gift and she wrapped it up in brown paper.
It was a win/win for the both of us.
When I got it home later that evening, I unwrapped it and flipped it open. The price was written in pencil in the top corner of the verso page - $65.oo.

A few weeks ago, I was in a thrift store when a checked the bookshelves and found a handful of old Bond paperbacks. In amongst them was a hardbound copy of the Amis book.
I flipped it open and saw the price- $1.oo.
Hmm, an absolute rip-off compared to what I paid for my first copy, but an absolute bargain nonetheless. I took it over to the counter and gave them two bucks.

I came across an Oris Artelier Hand-Wound last month;




Despite its 40mm diameter - a modern concession - the watch exudes an old-world charm. Powered by the 17 jewel Peseux 7001 hand-wound calibre, it has a power reserve of 42 hours and will run very accurately.

Perhaps its one drawback may be the tendency for the mainspring to snap if the watch is aggressively over-wound. There's an easy way to avoid this. Count each turn of the crown as you wind it. Everybody will get a different number depending on how fully you wind each turn. I get around twenty full winds. I wind the watch in a normal manner, the way my Dad used to, with his Wyler Incaflex back in the '70s. When I get to fifteen turns, I continue winding, but in a slower fashion. Five more slow turns and I feel some resistance in the crown.
Done. The watch is fully wound.


My wife and I were watching a Japanese-style step cabinet on eBay last week. I put in a bid before heading off to work that morning and we ended being the winning bidders. That was the easy part. The hard part would involve taking both cars and driving out to the other side of town to pick it up. Half of the relatives on my Dad's side lived out that way and I have strong memories of going out there back in the '70s and '80s. This would be a trip down memory lane. Some areas looked the same as they did back in 1976 and some didn't.
The piece comprised of four parts. The large section (with the wine bottle on it) was able to be fitted into my hatch-back while the other two drawer units went in the back-seat of my wife's car. The rectangular base section slotted in to my car next to the large piece.
These types of pieces were used in Japan in days of old. Like the name suggests, they doubled as staircases to elevated levels of homes. The wood, usually a light timber such as pawlownia, was used so that, in the event of an earthquake, it would pose a lesser risk of crushing you.
This piece is not a genuine Japanese antique, but a reproduction. Yes, it has seen better days, as there's evidence of it having been repaired here and there, but it should suit our needs just fine.
Now we just have to get rid of some other bits and pieces that aren't being used to their fullest potential.

I've been wearing the blue/black Oris Diver Sixty-Five a lot lately. The watch now has some nice scuffing on it which is consistent with its age (November 2016) and its regular use. This is, after all, what a watch is meant for.
And yes, I've said it a few times over the last couple of years, but I'm gonna have a decent stab at getting rid of some watches that don't get worn enough. I can think of one or two right now that will be first cabs off the rank.
This picture here was a test shot for the review that I'm writing of the Diver Sixty-Five. The review is about 80% finished. Just a couple more aspects of the watch that I want to write about, a little tweaking of what I've written already, one or two more photos to take and then it should be done.
Coming soon to this very blog!
The Gitanes pack that you see here is a photocopy of the real one, shown above in the photo with the Oris. I didn't want to destroy the original -which I've had since around 1990- so I figured I'd try making a copy printed on some card stock that I had. Some strategic folding, a few staples and it was done. Turned out surprisingly authentic, I must say.  Seemed almost a shame to then crumple it up for the sake of a photo. Sometimes, I go to a little too much trouble for a picture. Ahh, well...

Here's a watch I haven't worn much since last Summer, the Omega Seamaster Planet Ocean;


The Olympus OM-2n SLR has a roll of film in it. Wish I could remember what photos I took.

We had a work function at a cigar lounge this week. I declined to have a stogie and opted for a cigarette or two instead as the night wore on. A colleague started off with a Partagas Serie D and took about 90 minutes to finish it.
He then had another smaller cigar a little later. On the way back to the office, where our cars were parked (NEVER take one car to events like this), we had to pull over so that he could throw up.
And that's why I declined to have a cigar.

I got home at around 1:00am, and quietly got into my pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt in the study, so as not to wake up my wife.
Had a shower next morning, got dressed, put on my Omega Railmaster, ate breakfast and went to work.
And I could still smell cigar smoke. It must have gotten into my pores! There must've been an oily coating on the inside of my nostrils or something, because, for the next three days, I could still smell the aroma of these fine Cubans.
I kept thinking to myself; How do these regular cigar smokers do it? They must reek of the stuff!
The one that I was given on the night stayed nestled in the breast pocket of my jacket. It sat on my desk at home for a day or two and then I took it in to work and gave it to my boss. He likes a stogie from time to time.  

And that's it for now, gang. I'm wearing the Oris Movember Edition Diver Sixty-Five;


Thanks for reading, and have a great week ahead!


Friday, 24 August 2018

Reply To A Reader's Comment No. 1 - Patina On Old Wristwatches. Yay or Nay?

First of all, I wanna say 'thank-you' to all of you who read this blog of mine, and especially to those of you who leave a comment. Except for the spammers out there. You guys just waste my time and your comments - usually linked to roofing repair companies or fake watch sites - are promptly deleted. 
I try to reply to all comments and from time to time, I read a comment related to wristwatches and I feel that a longer reply is required on my part. 

Here's a recent comment;

I have been collecting typewriters for many years now, but only recently started to get interested in watches. One thing I learned is that watch collectors like their (valuable) pieces as original as possible, preferable without ever having been serviced. Therefor, the most valuable Submariners sometimes have hour and minute markers where the tritium almost falls out. I wonder if some time in the future, collectors will treat typewriters the same way, admiring patina and worshipping discoloration of keys. Maybe you should be careful when you swap the keys of your Smith Corona! Just kidding. By the way, I am waiting for a Seiko Marinemaster to arrive in the mail. It's officially far to big for my wrist, but I decided I don't care. Do you wear your huge Hamilton sometimes (I think to remember you wrote about it a while ago)?
--------------------------------------------------------------

I'm one of these collectors who wants a vintage watch to look as pristine as possible. Certainly, I have vintage watches that show their age, but wherever possible, I always aim for the best condition that I can afford. 
Needless to say, I've only managed to snag a couple of pieces that were in impeccable condition. And one of them was put-together from parts!

This circa 1962 Omega Seamaster was a real find. Snagged it from a watchmaker who sold vintage pieces back around 2002. 
Had it serviced a few years later by another watchmaker who only charged me $40 bucks. It's 35mm in diameter and the dial and hands are in beautiful condition. I've put it on an after-market bead-of-rice bracelet, but I think I'll switch it back to a leather strap sometime soon because I think it looks better that way. More representative of its era. 





 Does look good on the bracelet, though.


The other one was a WatchCo-built Omega Seamaster 300. WatchCo was a second-hand watch dealer which put period-correct movements into new-old-stock cases. Purists consider these to be Frankenwatches. This is a term used to describe a watch that has been cobbled together from parts. However, all the parts are correct for this model, and I have no problem with it. 
I spent about five years watching these Seamaster 300s come up on eBay. They were either heavily water-damaged originals or Vietnam-era fakes. 
The water-damaged originals would require extensive replacement of corroded parts, to the point where you'd end up with something akin to a Frankenwatch anyway. 
The Vietnam fakes - produced in the late 1960s and sold to unsuspecting GI's on leave in Saigon - would contain a genuine Omega movement and that's all. The cases, dials and hands were all fake. 

In the end, I contacted WatchCo and grabbed one of these before the parts ran out and the prices skyrocketed. 
The upside is that the dials and hands glow like a new watch and the case has been tested and is water-resistant down to 200 metres. Not that I've ever submerged this watch in water.
No regrets.

When it comes to patina on vintage wristwatches, I've noticed a trend over the last five or ten years, particularly with vintage Rolex sports watches, whereby the aspects that were once considered flaws are now considered attributes.

Spider dials.
                    There was a period where Rolex used a particular type of lacquer on the dial of their Submariner model which, over time, began to crack on the surface, giving it a webbed, mosaic pattern now referred to as a 'spider dial'. These models are quite sought-after by collectors, but I know my tastes well enough to know that this kind of dial would drive me nuts.
Sure, they stay intact and it is indicative of the authenticity and originality of the watch, but the cracked pattern would have me running to the nearest Rolex Service Centre to have it replaced.
Still, they are coveted by collectors looking for true original cosmetic condition that has been untouched. This 5513 model (photo courtesy of della Rocca watches.com) looks like it has a mid-1980s dial on it.


Pumpkin markers
                       Any pre-1983 (or thereabouts) Submariner 5513 would have had plain white luminous Tritium dots on the hour markers, with a rectangular baton at three of the cardinal points and a V-shaped wedge at the 12 marker. Over time, exposure to UV light would begin to darken these white dots to a soft cream-coloured hue. Left alone, these dots would continue to change colour, to the point where they would achieve a pale, pumpkin-orange shade.

Now, given the choice, I would prefer pale white or cream markers any day of the week. However, if you were to offer me a spider dial or a dial with pumpkin-orange hour markers, I would probably choose the latter. Maybe.
This pic courtesy of Sweeping Hand.co.uk

Although, I spent a few decades yearning for a vintage Submariner (actually, it was about 1974 to 2015) and its entire design and look was so infused into my subconscious that I can pretty much declare with confidence that all I wanted was an off-white set of hands and hour markers. Expecting to find a vintage Submariner in pristine original condition with bathroom-tile white markers would be a long and drawn-out exercise.
Again, these pumpkin marker dials are quite sought-after. To me, though, they just look a tad too sunburnt for my liking.

Ghost bezels
                     Ahh, now this one particularly irks me.

The rotating bezel starts off as black. It is an anodised aluminium insert that's fitted to the stainless steel bezel ring. Over time, exposure to sun and surf can fade the bezel from a deep black to a faded light grey. And beyond.
I had a customer who once brought in an Omega Seamaster for servicing. The dark blue anodised bezel had faded to a pale blue. He informed me that, until recently, he used to go surfing every day. The salt-water had faded away the colour of the bezel. It looked great. It showed that the watch had been used for one of its intended purposes. Could I wear it? Nope.
A lot of dealers have been selling Submariners and GMT Masters with faded bezels and, again, a lot of folks love 'em. To me, though, it drastically changes the look of the watch.

Patina is one thing. It's nice to see a watch and notice the scuffs and scratches, to see marks on the crystal. It gives you an idea that the watch has been worn and worn well.
However...pumpkin markers? Ghost bezels? What next? Is somebody gonna drill a hole right through the watch and call it a 'ventilated case'?

To answer schrijfmachine's comment, yes, wristwatches can be a slippery slope. Collections can start off small and get out of hand.
Regarding collectors and their preferences for  originality, yes, many of them will go for patina from a cosmetic point of view, but a watch that's never been serviced will not run very effectively.
Loose tritium can fall away from the hands and get into the movement via the date window or central dial post aperture and one should always be careful regarding this.
When I took my Submariner to Rolex for a repair quote last year, they said the hands needed to be replaced because the tritium had become brittle. This was a deal-breaker for me. Changing the hands would change the entire look of the watch. I said 'no' to their quote and took the watch to a watchmaker who was able to stabilise the cracked lume by applying varnish to the underside of the hands, effectively gluing the lume in place.
If the lume ever breaks away, that's when I'll consider replacing the hands.

As for the Seiko Marinemaster being too big for your wrist, schrijfmachine, well I'm of the opinion that there's nothing wrong with having one big, loud wristwatch in your collection. 
Yes, I still wear the Hamilton Khaki from time to time. At 44mm in diameter, it's huge on my wrist, but that was the look I was going for. I wanted a watch that looked like a wartime spy's piece of kit.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxHVMK51E_8QGInm8wXMo6KSC9__VcY25C7Hz61Bo71jDikU08rZJuoZxOf-YmNCWvQeM2nfPXiezR53h6wNVtHBR339BlMJxlue-qpBYU0nL0OWqd1bM1yuy6Wrp2jetq46l9AGq75qS/s1600/P7081540.JPG

I've had my eye on a more sedate 40mm Hamilton Khaki for a while now, but I'm not sure if I'll go for one. 

If anything, I think I should get the collection down before I add anything more to it. 

I hope this info helps, schrijfmachine. 

Thanks for reading!

Sunday, 12 August 2018

Sunday, August 12th, 2018 - Still Kickin', "Mission: Impossible - Fallout", Aching Blades & Recent Wristwatches.


Wristwatch-wise, I've worn this one since my last post;

It was the Oris Movember Edition Diver SixtyFive on a plain black NATO strap. Very comfy to wear. It's resting on a bone-coloured H&M denim jacket that I picked up. I'd been passively looking for a lighter colored trucker's jacket for a while. Figured it would be good for the warmer months ahead and add a little contrast to the darker colours that I usually wear.


"You should go see a movie, Dad. You keep saying you want to", my son said to me last weekend.
I quickly checked the session times at my local mall cinema and figured 'Why not?'

The latest installment in the M:I franchise finds IMF agent Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his small team tasked with recovering a trio of nukes that have been procured by The Apostles, a terrorist organisation intent on setting them off at The Vatican, Jerusalem and Mecca. Behind this terror plot is a mysterious figure known as John Lark. Keeping an eye on Hunt and his team is August Walker (Henry Cavill), a CIA operative who may or may not have his own agenda. 
Okay, let's get things straight; when you have a government agency called the Impossible Missions Force, you're pretty much assured that John Le Carre didn't write the screenplay. This film is a big, escapist adventure and if these kinds of movies are not your cup of tea, then that's cool. 
Skip ahead to whatever else I end up writing about other stuff further along in this post. 
Whatever it is. Even I don't know right now. 

The movie sprints along at a good clip. Cruise is back doing much of his own stunts - he loves speeding along on a motorcycle without a helmet on - and the scenes are inventive. 
See this clip, courtesy of flickering myth on YouTube;


I can never compare these movies to the Bonds. I find the action in the M:I films over the top (not that I mind), and while Bond these days is still some kind of superman, Ethan Hunt appears to be indestructible.

Say what you want about Tom Cruise. Sure, the whole Scientology thing is questionable, to say the least, but as an actor, the guy definitely has a solid work ethic and he's not afraid to show it. It would be an insurance nightmare to have your lead star zipping between cars around the Arc de Triomphe without a green-screen in sight, but the guy has the clout and the chops to be able to do it and I have to say he knows his way around a motorbike, since he's been in the saddle of one at least as far back as Top Gun in 1986.

Director Christopher McQuarrie seemingly came out of nowhere when he wrote the screenplay for The Usual Suspects (Dir: Bryan Singer) in 1995. It was a clever script and he went on to write other films before slipping into the Director's chair for Way of the Gun in 2000.
His screenplay for this installment features a sub-plot that ties in with the last three M:I films, effectively closing the loop on this story element's arc. McQuarrie does a great job with this film. The story is the age-old spy thriller trope concerning stolen nuclear warheads and the chase to recover them and it's good to see that a deft screenwriter can still put a new spin on a tale like this.
The cinematography is wonderful, as evidenced by the short clip above. I'm a sucker for a roving camera that stays focused on a character as it does a 360 degree turn around them.
The supporting cast is good, particularly Rebecca Ferguson, reprising her role from the last film, as MI6 operative Ilsa. Henry Cavill is good as CIA operative Walker. Methinks he's building up a decent resume, just in case they come knocking on his door to slip on OO7's holster once Daniel Craig hangs it up. That would suit me just fine. Cavill has a literary-Bond look about him.

One can easily argue for the merits of a well-made dramatic film which gives us a well-written story, sure-footed direction, and brilliant performances that highlight the art of acting. I'll always sit down to watch a great drama.
On the other hand, I can also respect and champion the sheer level of work that goes into a well-made action film. There's a stunt driver behind the wheel of every car that Cruise is dodging in that scene up above. The logistics, precision and timing involved are staggering, which is why I tip my hat to films like this, where people's health and safety are literally on the line.

I wore the Omega Seamaster 300 WatchCo build at some point over the last month. I think the bracelet will need one more link in it to give a comfortable fit.

I picked up this Ken Follett hardback called Jackdaws from a nearby thrift shop.
Here's the blurb from inside the dust-jacket. I'll lay it out in italic Courier, to make it look like an intercepted communique;

Two weeks before D-Day, the French Resistance attack a chateau containing a telephone exchange vital to German communications - but the building is heavily guarded and the attack fails disastrously.

Flick Clairet, a young British secret agent, proposes a daring new plan: she will parachute into France with an all-woman team known as the 'Jackdaws' and they will penetrate the chateau in disguise. But, unknown to Flick, Rommel has assigned a brilliant, ruthless Intelligence colonel, Dieter Franck, to crush the Resistance.
And Dieter is on Flick's trail...

I've never read any of Follett's work, but the guy is prolific and he's been around long enough. The premise sounded intriguing, as I don't tend to read wartime spy fiction. However, I thought I'd give this one a shot.
Next to the book is an empty Teacher's Scotch Whisky bottle which might make a nice water bottle during dinner. Or it might end up in the recycle bin.

I was going to write about some aches and pains that I've had for quite some time, but I think it'll even bore me to write about it.
In point form;
  • I did something to my right shoulder blade last September when I turned at the waist and leaned over across a trolley to grab a heavy parcel. A few days later, my shoulder blade felt like it had an arrow stuck in it. 
  • I found a nearby physiotherapist and he gave me a series of exercises as well as a 'dry needling' technique whereby acupuncture needles were inserted into the surrounding muscles. I saw this physio every four to six weeks.
  • Admittedly, I didn't do the exercises on a regular basis.
  • Further treatment was done on my neck also, as I found it difficult to turn my head around far enough when reversing the car out of the drive-way each morning.
  • Throughout all of this, I kept thinking that all I needed was a series of stretches, to give my neck a better range of movement. The physio explained that stretching was not the answer. What I had to do was strengthen the surrounding muscles. When I later mentioned this to my wife, she said; "I've been telling you that for years! Stretching warms up the muscle so that you don't tear or aggravate it when doing weight training. You have to strengthen the muscles if you want the pain to disappear." I should have listened to her, since she is a trained masseur and was a personal trainer once.
  • As I kept going to see the physio, new aches would manifest, culminating a month ago in a sore lower back. 
  • This pain soon settled on my right hip, towards the back. Sciatic nerve?  Iliac crest? My core strength is practically non-existent, so this is something that I'll have to work on. About five years ago, I leaned forward to pull a couple of typewriters from the boot (trunk) of my car and felt a shooting pain in my lower back that had me unable to lift my foot high enough to put a sock on the next morning. 
  • Anyway, I had my last appointment with the physio a few weeks ago. I have enough exercises that I can do now, and I'll give these a proper shot and see how I go. The back pain has subsided, but my shoulder blade is a weird one, as I don't know what I might have done to set it off. 
  •  Either way, I'll work on it.
Jeez, that was the short version!?

Sticking with the dive watch theme, I wore the Omega Seamaster Planet Ocean this week. This one has not gotten a lot of wear so far this year, but I plan to wear it more as the weather hots up. I recently sold a quartz-powered TAG Heuer Formula 1. That was a watch that never got any wear at all and I'd really like to clear out the watches that don't get much (or any) time on the wrist.
Next up on the chopping block is the Omega AquaTerra Co-Axial. This 36mm watch has the same dimensions as my Omega Railmaster and I have found myself rarely wearing it over the last year or two. I'll be seeing my buddy Mike sometime over the next few weeks to see if he can shift it for me on consignment.

The AquaTerra is a great watch. In certain lighting, it looks outstanding, as seen in this photo. However, my eyesight these days isn't what it was when I bought the watch back in 2006 and I find that the hands disappear against the rich, glossy black dial at certain angles. So, it's time to move this one along.
After that, the Dan Henry Compressor will be the next one to go. Maybe. I'm not sure. This was a watch that I bought on a whim and in hindsight, I shouldn't have done so. It's a well-made watch for the price ($250USD) and very accurate, thanks to the Seiko NH35 calibre inside it, but with a few other watches in the collection, this one doesn't get much wear. 
This watch was cheap enough - in the grand scheme of things - that I could keep it as a knock-around watch for those times when I don't want to risk damaging something more expensive. Then again, if it isn't being worn, then it's just taking up space. Not a lot of space, but you get my drift.
Anyway, back to what I am wearing. The Oris Big Pilot Pointer Date got a lot of wear last week;
I'll have to get a sharper picture of the dial. Or you could just look at my previous post to see a slightly better photo of this watch. I love the intricacy of the dial on this watch. Especially when one considers that Oris was a lower tier brand in the mid 1990s when this watch was made and yet, here they were, making a dial with five different textures on it, thus giving the impression of a more expensive watch than it actually was. 
It has such a nice, classic look to it, owing much of its aesthetic to the 1938 Big Crown model on which it was based. 
Looking forward to when the weather warms up this year, so that I can bust open that bottle of Gordon's Pink Gin. 
And party like it's 1929.
Finishing off this post with this weekend's wristwatch,the Rolex Submariner 5513;
I don't tend to wear this one throughout the week, but it gets its turn when I get home from work on Friday afternoons. The mineral crystal has a few light scratches on it that weren't there a few months ago, but a watch IS meant to be worn. 
I'm still careful with it. No point tempting fate by wearing it in situations where the possibility of damaging it is heightened. 
After all, it's not the same watch that it was when it rolled off the production line in 1982. 

Well, gang, that's what I've been up to lately. It's now almost 9:00pm on Sunday night, my shoulder is reminding me that it's there, and I think I'll have a cup of tea and retire to the lounge room to slip off my shoes and see if there's anything on TV worth watching.

I hope you've all been well, and I hope you have a good week. 

Thanks for reading!