Author: Adam Keith

Chopard L.U.C 1860: The Beloved High Luxury Icon Returns In Lucent Steel, And Now (Blessedly) Without A Date

Posted on by Adam Keith

Chopard may be known to many for its exceptional jewelry, but for a good many years now, they’ve shown perhaps even more initiative as a serious–no make that very serious–manufacture of exceptional high horology. While I’ve covered some of their work before, it is a brand, an independent, family-owned brand no less, that deserves to get the spotlight more than it does, because in the modern era, they produce products that rival the finest quality of “Holy Trinity” (AP, PP & VC) watches from the Golden Era of watchmaking. I daresay the Manufacture Chopard even comes surprisingly close to the greatest of independents today, in terms of both mechanical ingenuity and, in a point particularly close to my heart, artisanal movement finishing. Few watches ever exemplified this more than the watch that sort of started it all for the modern Chopard brand, the L.U.C 1860 which emerged in 1997 and very quickly proceeded to blow the collective socks off of watch aficionados who probably weren’t expecting to find such exquisite Geneva Hallmark-signed horological mastery from a company best known for high-end jewelry and cute ladies watches with floating diamonds. To this day, the L.U.C 1860 remains a modern icon in truly fine watchmaking, and it was the watch that first made me fall head over heels in love with the brand. Now, after Watches and Wonders 2023, we can draw those admiring sighs again, as the classic is back…and even better than ever.

Like the original L.U.C 1860, the 2023 model has a 36.5mm diameter case, although this time fashioned from Lucent steel, a recycled alloy the brand has made of use of before, and continues to tout for it’s reduced environmental impact in terms of production, as well as a particularly luminous sheen. Be that as the last claim may or may not be, Chopard certainly understands the ins and outs of exceptional case finishing, both from its background as a jeweler and watchmaker, and this classic case design sets a particularly pleasing middle point between dressiness and daily versatility with a smart combination of polished and brushed surfaces. The dial, however, just about makes one melt. As with the original 1860, the new model in Lucent steel displays a beautiful arrangement of guilloche patterns, and the warm coppery glow of the metallic salmon dial suggests something exclusive yet remarkably inviting, visually—appearing as well attired for dress as it would for far more day to day settings. And for me, the cherry atop it all is the blessed lack of a calendar display, something the original models offered without exception, and I slightly lamented, my love for the aesthetics and quality of the L.U.C 1860 notwithstanding. Of course a date is “practical” but for a watch this perfectly designed, aesthetics were paramount, and always have been; I’d no more want a date on this watch than I would a Dufour Simplicity (if such a thing existed, perish the thought!). That said, the fact that this fetchingly wrought dial sprang from a common producer (Metalem) shared by both the famous independent watchmaker and Manufacture Chopard just makes the newly introduced time only variant that much more a treasure to cherish. In many ways, the Chopard L.U.C 1860 is as close as one might get to an automatic version of the Dufour Simplicity, and it conceptually shares–even more so now with this revised model–a surprising degree of similarity to that greatest of independently-crafted masterpieces. A few may whinge about the “small” case diameter, but for me the 36mm is a perfect delivery for the message of elegance, focused classical beauty, and purity of watchmaking distilled to the absolute. How fortunate that trends seem to be favoring more modest diameters anyway, but even without that factor, I’m grateful the L.U.C 1860s classical proportion has remained unchanged. The 8.2mm thickness of the watch is a delight too, in an age awash with chunky divers and other sports watches that could give hockey pucks a fair run for their money. There is a time and place for that of course, but not in something with a soul like this.

There are few movements created—ever–with the finish quality, proportional elegance, and no corners cut approach of Chopard’s in-house L.U.C 1.96. The only manufactured movements I can think that would equal, or possibly exceed it, might be the Patek Philippe automatics of the 1950s and 1960s, but even then, that’s splitting hairs. The L.U.C 1.96 Caliber is that good. One needs just look at the perfection in the hand-laid Cotes de Geneve, the immaculate hand-applied anglage on the sensually curved bridges, the sensually arched steel swan’s neck regulator adjoining the freely-sprung Breguet overcoil balance wheel, and the richly adorned 22K microrotor feeding the twin, stacked mainspring barrels that lie adjacent it to realize this watch is one serious piece for a connoisseur who truly knows his or her watches, and deeply appreciates watchmaking as both science and art. It features the same distinctive and efficient pawl-winding system that the original 1.96 did, and now, for the first time also has a hacking seconds function, something that is most welcome indeed, given the precision promise of the COSC chronometer certification. That it bears both a Poincon de Geneve stamp, attesting to its impeccable workmanship in the best Genevan norms, and that chronometer certificate, is more of a formality after looking at the uncompromising build of this caliber. Yet, that dual accolade places this caliber in a very elite category of movements, right up there with the ultra rare tourbillon models (such as the Ref 3939) from Patek Philippe. And better yet, this ticking supermodel sits perfectly within that beautifully proportioned case, waiting to greet you each time you take the watch off–yet can’t but fail to turn it over to enjoy this view for a minute, or maybe several. A jeweler’s loupe will definitely be something you’ll want , if you don’t have one already, but the quality certainly radiates through without the aid of any magnification. The final impression of this movement is always that of a movement for watch lovers, by a company who loves watchmaking. The Scheufele family have certainly demonstrated their dedication to this increasingly rare category of very special luxury watches, and the fact that the L.U.C line is so broad ensures that there is really something for everyone.

At least in theory, anyway! While this perfected resurrection of the fabled original L.U.C masterpiece won’t be a limited edition, the quantities produced annually will be very small, in the less than couple dozen range, and available exclusively through Chopard boutiques. According to a recent, refreshingly candid interview by Revolution Magazine, Karl-Friedrich Scheufele himself is on a waiting list for an 1860 in Lucent Steel, which should tell you something! While I expect the family-owned brand’s president won’t have to wait as long as other clients, it definitely hints at the nostalgia and puristic pride behind this outwardly humble yet inwardly remarkable watch, which will remain a sort of shared secret handshake among the super-cognoscenti. The $23,200 pricing, while no outright bargain, as luxury watches go is quite fair given the remarkable movement and historic importance of this classic, and well in line for value–or better–than anything competitive. Even against its likely challengers from the most celebrated names, some of which cost notably more, the L.U.C 1860 in its fresh Lucent Steel guise, could very well be Primus inter pares.

Laurent Ferrier Tourbillon Grand Sport Pursuit: A Study In Exquisite Restraint Within The World Of Heavy Hitter Luxury Watches

Posted on by Adam Keith
Matte, rounded like a pebble and subtle to the eye, this watch is much more than it appears at first

Yes, Rolex is set to release their 2023 models, and everyone’s talking about it, placing frenzied wagers on what exactly the world’s largest and best known watch brand will add to their lineup. But I’ve blathered about Rolex quite a bit of late (when I’ve had time to sit down and pontificate about watches, at any rate), and I don’t want to talk about that….yet, at least. Today, my mind is on the concept of the Stealth Heavy Hitter luxury watch. When I say “heavy hitter watch”, I mean the sort of sybaritic leviathan that could cover the mortgage of at least a modest home, or maybe a not so modest one, depending on the zip code. Often, the heavy hitter is also a super-hyped timepiece, often chosen by A-list celebrities and the like, so often when collectors talk about high echelon watches like this, they mean a limited edition ceramic AP Royal Oak perpetual calendar, maybe a baguette diamond-set Patek Philippe complication, or, since we’re skirting around the crown for today, a platinum Day-Date with Arabic language calendar and time indications, or the always approval-lapping “Platona” Daytona Cosmograph, resplendent in its platinum garb with glittering baguettes marking the time in sinfully lush style upon the “You know what THIS is” glacier blue background. And let’s not even get into Richard Mille, which in just about any model, to say the most extravagant ones, defines a Mike Tyson level of wealth punch that will leave any viewer reeling with envy or scorn, depending on their inclinations. The Stealth Heavy Hitter, on the other hand, avoids all of this, and indeed, would seldom–if ever–be recognized by anyone, despite being exceedingly special and very, very costly.

Very little going on here, just a beautiful salmon dial with white gold markers and hands. The elegant text hints at more, though!

Laurent Ferrier is a practitioner of this welcome philosophy, and I’ve noted my love for this independent brand before. With his background as a complication specialist at Patek Philippe, Monsieur Ferrier understands better than most what exceptional Genevan watchmaking is all about, just like another former Patek Philippe superstar watchmaker did when he introduced his first models back in the early 2000s, and was free from the constraints of his financial backer Carlos Diaz, or later, the mighty Richemont Group. I’m of course referring to the late, lamented Roger Dubuis. Those first generation Dubuis pieces were uniquely inspired, beautifully detailed, and have become highly sought after because of that. In the modern time, Laurent Ferrier now carries a similarly visionary haute horlogerie banner highly, albeit with his own, entirely different blend of daring and classicism. Each Laurent Ferrier piece in the current range has its own charm, but as with many of the top horologists, the sports watch segment can’t be ignored. With that, we enter the Laurent Ferrier Grand Sport Tourbillon Pursuit, a salmon-dialed sporty beauty with 100 meters of water resistance, and an exquisitely adjusted marvel of an escapement beating within it, showing off the genius of Abraham-Louis Breguet’s most famous invention. We’ve seen the model before, but this is its first debut in titanium, a material well known and appreciated across all sectors of the luxury watch landscape, but particularly the sports genre, where its strength and feathery light weight is most beneficial.

The integrated bracelet look keeps with trends, yet doesn’t slavishly imitate the big hype sport stuff from AP or PP

The first thing that strikes me about the Laurent Ferrier Tourbillon Grand Sport in any of its iterations, is how you can’t see the tourbillon when the watch is face up. Madness you say. Isn’t that the point, to show off this intricate little piece of famous early-19th century micromechanical mastery? Well, not really. Breguet pocket watches never did. Nor did the original Girard-Perregaux masterpieces, their modern wristwatch iterations of the breed notwithstanding. And neither did–or does to this day—Patek Philippe, who apparently schooled Laurent Ferrier well in the concept of supreme discretion. Some might say this concealment is embraced so that the finely lubricated and adjusted tourbillon escapement is not exposed to heat and light that might cause oils to evaporate sooner than would be the case were it not hidden away, but I think it’s more so because it’s just an incredibly classy way to protect the image of this highly refined heart, which before the prestige it granted to buyers, originally served a chronometric purpose. Looking at the dial of the Grand Sport Tourbillon Pursuit, it just appears as a simple three-handed watch with a beautiful yet restrained dial color and Laurent Ferrier signature spear-shaped luminous hands in polished gold. To any passerby on the street, it’s just an attractive but very non-bling, matte silver colored wristwatch. But then, in a moment of privacy and quiet, you take the Grand Sport’s light mass into your hand–courtesy of the large, yet deliciously smooth 44mm titanium case and strongly purposeful integrated bracelet–and turn it over. Now, at last, you can finally perceive and rejoice in what the fuss, and lofty 175,000 (CHF) price tag, is all about.

A joy of fine watchmaking with a great many details, and a tourbillon caliber for the puristic buyer

It is the sort of creation that demarcates the highest level of watchmaking from anything lesser. Caliber LF619.01 is an invitation to appreciate uncompromising mechanical and craft excellence, purely and simply so. Note the delicate yet perfect hand applied bevels on every bridge, which incidentally, are nicely separated in a classic yet unusual pattern to show off the gear train, joined to their pivot jewels which sit securely in deeply angled and polished countersinks. Appreciate the mirror polished screws and equally specular-polished, highly refined click spring that moves with exacting precision as you turn the winding crown to charge the manually-wound caliber’s large spring barrel with 80 hours of autonomy. Not to leave anything extraordinary undone, sharp interior angles abound and await discovery with a jewelers loupe. And, of course, there is the animated star of the show, the magnificent tourbillon with its intricately detailed black-polished steel bridge, large jewel with golden chaton and intricate balance assembly, pulsing at a satisfyingly slow 21,600 beats per hour, the cage spinning the entire assembly steadily around at a rate of one revolution per minute, the classic and most commonly encountered one. Less traditional, but a well-considered boost to real performance, is a special system of two balance springs designed to improve rate stability in day-to-day use. Getting back to the delightful aesthetics of the LF619.01, bridges are given a dark ruthenium finish, which, while less immediately showy than Cotes de Geneve, brilliantly highlight the immaculate specular polish of the various steel components, and leave the visual virtuosity to the ravishing tourbillon assembly. On that aspect in particular, this movement greatly reminds me of the understated, yet sublimely lovely Patek Philippe observatory tourbillon movements of the 1930s through 1950s, which under the adjustment of master regleurs de precision like Bornand and Zibach, earned Patek Philippe numerous awards for exceptional precision at Observatory competitions. As with the one in this watch, these very special movements–despite their superlative beauty, to say nothing of constructive quality and painstaking adjustment–were purpose built, and only destined to be seen by the eyes of a few. Those eyes, however, belonged to the world’s most discerning judges, and these movements reflected the knowledge these elites were expected to possess.

Some inspiration from great PP Tourbillon calibers may be present, and that’s a very good thing indeed!

And that’s much like how the aesthetic concept of this one is, so it’s decidedly appropriate that Laurent Ferrier has taken the extra step to ensure that each of these movements aren’t just pretty, but certified as precision chronometers by the Observatory in Besançon. The finest tourbillons, after all, shouldn’t just be a crass, high horology fidget spinner, but an object of timekeeping excellence, if not so much because such a thing is needed in a mechanical wristwatch, but rather because something so painstaking to assemble and adjust should in fact, reflect the pride of the watchmaker(s) who created and assembled it. And that, my friends, is the definition of a Stealth Heavy Hitter Luxury Watch. No need to show anything off, this is a creation for the buyer, to be enjoyed solely by the buyer…and maybe, just maybe a few close friends with a shared delightful madness for the eccentric (and expensive!) world of highest horology.

Discreet high horology: A view of the very best that only you, or your watchmaker, gets to see

Blancpain Fifty Fathoms Tech Gombessa: A Magnificent Diver Instrument And Watch, Even If It Wasn’t The One Many Wanted

Posted on by Adam Keith
(An uncompromising dive tool and superb luxury watch in one, Blancpain’s Tech Gombessa is special and distinctive)

Blancpain has a way with their customer base. The general theme is, they do what they want under the protection of the massive Swatch Group phalanx, and the pandering of their small but passionate customer base and fans be damned. If consumer demand were the prime motivator of Blancpain’s output, we’d have seen a 41-42mm standard production Fifty Fathoms at least half a decade ago, with a plethora of cool variants in tow. Instead, the world gets a handful of tantalizing and all but perfectly attired limited editions that are nearly impossible to obtain at retail and carry significant premiums when available on the secondary market. So close…yet so far! The watches you can readily get, ones which some of us (like me) admittedly love despite it all, represent the gorgeous but sizable classic 45mm Fifty Fathoms, deemed as “the most beautiful dive watch in the world, but too big for most” and the more easily wearable, yet quirky and often misunderstood Bathyscaphe variants which run the same superb caliber in the 43mm variant and suffer from what I’ll playfully call “Excessive Negative Dial Space Syndrome” (ENDS, if you wish). The penny whistles and groans from the forums and Instagram feeds are almost audible at each new Blanpcain release, in the same instant as dreams for the perfect daily wear diver are dashed yet again. Yes, it’s amazing what you can get away with when a multi-billion dollar, family-owned luxury conglomerate has your back.

(THIS is the kind of Blancpain product that most want. Unfortunately, the painfully small limited editions make FF like these a fantasy for most)

Is this really bad, though? Blancpain makes dive watches, which aside from being exceptional examples of classic high horology in every sense, are also some of the most dedicated and purpose-driven tools for that task you will encounter–a strange and seemingly conflicting set of identities in the world of mechanical watches. No, I’m not talking simply making a watch which can go way, way deeper under water: we’ve seen that very recently. No, what I mean in this context, is a dive watch with brains, one that can measure–as a primary or backup to more modern systems–those specific durations of time that those hardcore users need most, lest they fail to return to dry land…alive. Those not sure of the veracity of that statement, need only look back to the extraordinary X Fathoms, which was–and is–possibly the most advanced and ambitious mechanical dive watch ever conceived. This year, while naturally disappointing their clients yet again, Blancpain has created another exceptional tool for modern pushers of underwater boundaries, the aptly named Fifty Fathoms Tech, which is the first dive watch specifically set up to allow for the longer dives that divers can now undertake, the sort of which Laurent Ballesta, a leader in the field of ocean exploration and photography (and happily for Blancpain–a luminary brand partner) does often with his team, as they explore and chart important marine environments, and the creatures they inhabit. Ballesta, who has been known to rely upon the above mentioned X Fathoms in timing the periods underwater in which he does his award-winning work, has now helped the brand to conceive a different Fifty Fathoms model, which–while obviously less complex than the X– is again tailored to specific needs. In a more haute horlogerie kind of way, the Tech Gombessa appeals to me for much the same reason as the Tudor Pelagos FXD–which was conceived with objectives from French naval divers–and like that watch, yet with subtle differences for needs underwater, is very much intended to be a tool for specific work, its lofty price tag notwithstanding.

(The technical demands of long-duration exploratory dives were the driving force behind the Tech Gombessa’s technical features and design)

Let’s discuss the basics, first. The watch movement inside the Blancpain Fifty Fathoms Tech Gombessa is dubbed 13P8…yet astute eyes will grasp quickly that the base caliber is the rugged, refined, and proven 1315 base caliber with 6-position adjustment, impressive 5-day power reserve, and free sprung balance wheel that has for some time now proven its mettle in Fifty Fathoms models such as the 5015 and its slightly less flamboyant Bathyscaphe brethren. The caliber range also has a silicon balance spring now, making these movements champions against magnetic interference. I’m hardly the first to gush over the caliber’s sturdy construction yet beautiful, tasteful decoration (the buttery anglage in particular, the kind of which can only be laid down by hand, is simply sublime) yet the Rolex-like durability and performance under pressure is what keeps this specialized engine a real one, despite luxury touches like the skeletonized 18K gold rotor and the general excellence of every small detail. To reiterate, watchmaking refinement doesn’t necessarily mean….fragility, and the 1315 has proven that the two can in fact, happily coexist. Blancpain has, in this instance, adapted this prodigy to drive a special 3-hour dive time hand, supplementary to the standard 12-hour one, which completes a single trip around the dial in appropriate time. Paired with the unique bezel calibration, we now have a straightforward and instantly legible tracking of dives of up to 3-hours duration–the kind which Laurent Ballesta and his colleagues perform with regularity in their oceanographic adventures. The conical crown at 10 o’clock controls a helium escape valve, a feature which is hyper-specific to certain extreme dive application, but isn’t entirely out of place here given the extreme duration divers that can appreciate the timing capabilities of the Tech Gombessa must endure, and the specialized gas mixtures they must breathe through the lengthy periods they move under water at significant depth. As with saturation divers, recuperation in underwater dwellings may require periods where such gasses are best vented out of the watch via a specialized valve, making it–on this watch–more than just an additional technical boast for serious use with no further qualification.

(Luxury, durability, and proven performance: the 1315 base caliber has been adapted for the 3-hour dive hand here)

The Grade 23 titanium case is large, there’s no denying that point. At 47mm, and just shy of 15mm tall, this Blancpain diver isn’t exactly for the faint wristed—and that’s where a lot of the complaining in the webisphere is coming from (“another giant Blancpain dive watch?? C’mon man!…”) Yet, the case design, reminiscent to me of early Ikepod watches that first surfaced in the 1990s, and sort of space saucer like, has an interesting aesthetic appeal all its own, much like other pieces of specialized diving gear. Besides that, when married to the curved rubber strap that plunges right off the edge of the case at integrated lug attachments, it becomes quite clear that this sea creature will indeed wrap itself very compactly to the wrist. This, in concert with the feathery weight of the titanium, gives the design a lot more utility (and adaptability to myriad wrist profiles) than might otherwise seem to be at first glance, so I’d suggest taking a closer look if the watch tickles your fancy. I feel too, that with the dedicated tool watch ethos that brought this specialized Fifty Fathoms variant to life, the large size just makes sense. While the hoots and jeers of the peanut gallery tell us that the mechanical tool watch is now nothing more than an utter anachronism, you know, “no one” uses them, and luxury dive watches should reflect market realities for the Desk Diver, Blancpain has, nevertheless, done it their way. (And really….just because you don’t, doesn’t mean some other enthusiast, somewhere, might not.) The Fifty Fathoms Tech might be nearly thirty grand, at retail price, but the heads of the stubborn little manufacturer intended it to be the best, mission-specific diver they could, all while giving us the usual Blancpain attention to finishing detail, and watchmaking quality that can only be found at the haute horlogerie level. This is apparent in every aspect of the watch, from the base movement, to the case finishing, the dial detail rendered over a base in nearly “absolute black” finish for exceptional light absorbtion, and the superbly rendered luminous bezel with its glossy sapphire cap. Some may scorn the brand for making an oddball hybrid high luxury hardcore dive tool, and insist that this is why Blancpain remains in comparative obscurity next to its peers as relative to the quality of its watches, but the contrarian in me quite profoundly admires the sassy bastards at Blancpain all the more for it. Maybe someday the magical standard-issue Fifty Fathoms in a 40-42mm size will see the light of day, but I’m honestly pleased with what Blancpain is doing now…but then again, I love the underdog Bathyscaphe and standard 45mm Fifty Fathoms plenty, so I can’t really wish for more, minus my own desire that fellow watch lovers someday find a Blancpain diver they can see donning with pride. Should that day come, I promise you…you will find the Blancpain diver on your wrist something quite special, against anything else on the market.

(A great mechanical backup for specialized divers, and a luxurious mechanical watch all in one. Classic Blancpain recipe!)

There are lots of classic looking dive watches out there, most of them homages to the Two Greats of the 1950s: the groundbreaking Blancpain Fifty Fathoms, and the eternal Rolex Submariner. Being that Blancpain started the genre we now know and guard so much, I think they have earned the privilege to do as they like. The fact that brand CEO Marc Hayek is a hardcore diver, and actively plays a role in the development of watches like the Fifty Fathoms Tech Gombessa is massively cool, and in fact, if it weren’t for his role, the Fifty Fathoms line might never have seen the resurrection it had beyond the tribute model in the “Trilogy” line from the late 1990s. The modern Fifty Fathoms occupies an interesting niche, both a beautiful luxury watch, and a tool for serious use. But what I admire most about the Fifty Fathoms, is that its origin was rooted in real life use, and it has stayed true to that mission, even with the high horology credentials of Blancpain that emerged from the brand’s resurrection in the 1990s onward. The Tech Gombessa is obviously a tool first, and a luxury object next, an idea which is anathema to some, but will appeal to a select few. Will most of these watches see hard use under the waves? Doubtlessly no, but to say that no one will, is rather presumptuous, and those who will will probably find great utility in the Blancpain Tech as a backup instrument. The remaining buyers will enjoy a unique object with superior watchmaking inside it, as well as a purpose-built aesthetic. I appreciate that Blancpain continues to have a purpose-focused approach to building its dive watches, even if those watches happen to be among the most beautifully finished and constructed in the world. Indeed, quite probably the most. Who says you can’t have Beauty and Beast, all in one?

(Superlative lume! Not just a lightshow, the indications are clear and concise, in the manner of a proper instrument)

Rolex Deepsea Challenge: Who Can Best The King Of Dive Watches Now?

Posted on by Adam Keith

(There’s no ocean on earth too deep for this Rolex watch, a culmination of the brand’s mastery in water resistant construction)

“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster”. Or so mob associate Henry Hill was known to have said, in a line that kicked off 1991’s “Goodfellas” in explosively red-hued and violent fashion. In my case, though, what I wanted, was Rolex dive watches. They caught my attention as a young preteen obsessed with mechanical watches, and I couldn’t be taken out in public (translation: typically, a then-thriving American upscale mall) without drooling in front of a family-owned Rolex authorized retailer, an institution that is now sadly getting far more rare, but that…is a topic for another time. The Submariner, Submariner Date, and the storied Sea-Dweller in production then (Ref. 16600), far less commonly seen in the retail case, were on the brain, and I wanted one in the worst of ways. The Sea-Dweller in particular ignited my imagination the most, because it was so utterly more suited for deep water–four times more in fact–than the already very capable Submariner, and its association with COMEX and the rapidly developing deep diving industry made it mythic beyond any proportion. A legend amongst dive watches. It so happened, that due to fortuitous circumstances—and some help from a loved one–that the Sea-Dweller would be my very first Rolex watch in my early 20s. What a time! And not just for how amazing this watch felt to me as a budding watch fanatic who finally achieved “the dream”, but also for the hindsight perspective of a sadly bygone period when Rolex watches were readily available via authorized channels, and, relatively affordable as well.

(Ads like this kept me fascinated with Rolex as a teenager and young adult. They still do, to be honest!)

But, I digress. Rolex and the dive watch are an inseparable association–even though rivals like Omega and Blancpain have innovated just as much, and in some cases more, Blancpain for being the first to innovate the features we know as being integral to what a dive watch is and Omega for offering watches every bit as technically demanding as those from the crown, even if those watches–such as the famous Ploprof–never got the commercial recognition they deserved when they equaled or even outdid their rival Rolex in certain ways. (Click here for a great video on the revolutionary Ploprof, and ultimately, Omega’s disappointing fortunes in their battle with their greatest rival, despite it all.) So, why Rolex? These watches were the epitome of the Oyster Case development that dates back to 1926, and even now, knowing what I do of other brands, there is an almost magical invincibility to the idea of a Rolex dive watch, that no other brand really conjures in quite the same way. Part of that is certainly the technical competency of the product, and equally certainly is the nearly black hole-level pull of Rolex marketing, emblazoned across the pages of National Geographic, Smithsonian, and myriad other popular lifestyle and environmental publications. And of course, there were the most insane examples of specialized Rolex creations, such as the Deep Sea Special, which went all the way down to the bottom of the Marianas trench on Jacques Piccard’s submersible “Trieste” in 1960, itself the ultimate expression of the Rolex Oyster’s capability, as strange and alien as it looked in its quirky, prototypical might. The concept was refined again–greatly so–in 2012, when director James Cameron piloted a craft to the bottom of Challenger Deep in the Pacific, its robotic arm wearing a piece unique stainless steel prototype that clearly very closely inspired the creation of the sensational titanium watch we’re discussing now. Omega followed up with their own ocean-conquering masterpiece in 2019, the gargantuan Ultra Deep Professional, that also headed to the bottom of the Marianas Trench in their own expedition/adventure with Victor Vescovo, a feat that even bested Rolex’s earlier descent with James Cameron by a few meters. Even today, the idea of a watch withstanding the unimaginable pressures at the deepest chasm in the Pacific Ocean is mind-boggling. Without any doubt, both Omega and Rolex have both achieved the ultimate technical feats in mechanical dive watches, but Rolex has again cemented its ultimate reign by offering a commercial version, officially ending the “Deepest Diving Dive Watch You Can Buy” contest. (By contrast, Omega’s obtainable version of the Ultra Deep, introduced earlier in 2022, “only” goes to 6000 meters.) There is quite literally nowhere left to go in the depth contest, and Rolex’s crown is firmly back on, where the ultimate diver is concerned. So what is this Rolex leviathan, the Oyster Perpetual Deepsea Challenge, all about?

(Two great predecessors from the Abyss: the 1960s Deepsea Special on right, and the experimental Challenge model from 2012)

Think the alreadly formidable Deepsea…but on the craziest dosage of steroids you can imagine. Any semblance of reasonable wearing is out the window with this one, where perhaps…just perhaps…a large-wristed individual of probably notable stature could pull of the already imposing Deepsea as a daily wearer, this one can only be reasonably wielded by a very few supersized humans on the planet. (Like say, Hafthor Julius Björnsson, the late Andre the Giant, or maybe Ronnie Coleman in his prime if we must include someone just a little more diminutive in height, if not sheer physical mass!) With a thickness of 23mm and a lug-to-lug span of 61mm (!) the measurements speak for itself. But be assured, those of less Brobdingnagian physiques are already giving it their best shot, as a quick search on various watch fora shows. And, you know what? More power to them, I say! The new Deepsea Challenge is certainly a conversation piece, and underwater, for those who choose to take this $26,000 (MSRP!) Rolex dive watch along below the waves, the size won’t seem out of place at all, amidst the myriad of other technical gear atop a diving wetsuit. It is after all, the distillation of every Rolex diving advance since the word Submariner first appeared on a dial, so why not indeed? If a Rolex watch were ever made to do a demanding job, this is the one, and while the long-honored idea of Rolex as a mechanical tool watch seems to be deader than the dinosaurs, there’s no doubt the products made by the Geneva powerhouse can still perform the role in spades. That said, it’s clear that the vast majority of Oyster Perpetual Deepsea Challenges that manage to find their way out of an authorized dealers will be just be for showing off, with nary a body of water in sight. Shame really, but it is what it is.

Thirty six thousand and ninety feet of stated water resistance, with another 25% safety margin of pressure engineered by Rolex, as per all their diving models. Think about that for a moment, and consider the sheer technical feats, to say nothing of exacting manufacturing precision, wrapped up in producing a watch like this: The thickness here, as admirable or abominable as you may find it, serves a very real purpose, that–along with the 9.5 mm thick sapphire crystal, and the pressure defying Ring Lock system first seen on the standard Deepsea model, all working in tandem to stave off the incomprehensible tons of merciless water pressure. The watch is also–very notably–Rolex’s first foray into the use of titanium for the entire construction of the timepiece. The long-serving Ref. 16600 Sea-Dweller 4000 had a helium release valve component in the metal, and the Deepsea offered an innovative case back with titanium at its center for flexibility under extreme water pressure, but that was the extent of it. The new king of Rolex dive watches is full titanium, from the case, through the bracelet. Not content with some lower grade of the material, Rolex uses their own iteration of Grade 5 Ti alloy, and machines it expertly as you might expect, with some interesting polish contrasts that distinguish it from more typical Oyster models, as well as recalling the now-nostalgic chamfers so associated with four and five-digit Rolex sports models. Not only hypoallergenic and nearly impervious to the ravages of saltwater, the titanium construction is a blessed relief from the relatively monstrous weight this veritable hockey puck would have in a typical 904L–excuse me, Oystersteel–variant. And, it somehow seems appropriate for a true Titan of a watch. And yet, despite the Deepsea Challenge’s size, those dimensions are entirely reasonable, even modest, when considering what this watch can withstand. Were it not for the aforementioned Ring Lock technology, which provides ample pressure dispersion between the crystal and the back of the watch, the end result would’ve been much chunkier yet, rather like the 1960s Deep Sea Special. And then there’s the special titanium Oyster bracelet, which with a ratcheting Glidelock system, offers the ultimate adjustment factor to get the brute secured properly, and comfortably. To say that Rolex has certainly learned a thing or two about dive watch technology in their many years of manufacturing would be a supreme understatement!

(A creature engineered for extreme pressures; case, crystal, crown, and back must all do some very heavy lifting!)

I like it. I like it a lot. It’s not an everyday watch and its in no way intended to be. For a lover of Rolex history, and appreciator of their contributions to water resistant watch technology like yours truly, the Ref. 126067 Oyster Perpetual Deepsea Challenge is an object to nerd out over like few others. The price is extreme, even at the retail level–and I shudder to think what secondary market prices will be for those that start ending up there–but given the cost of research and development, as well as the years of testing and evaluation, things sort of make sense and explain the significantly increased ask compared to their already impressive Sea-Dweller Deepsea, and even the (now) almost modest Sea-Dweller 43 and classic Submariner. The fact that Rolex produced this as a non-date watch is for me, another big plus, and a nod to the hardcore enthusiast. The Deepsea Challenge generates an excitement that transcends the watch itself, stimulating our imaginations about exploration, adventure, and the world around us. That, to me, is the Rolex brand I always remembered, and have grown to miss dearly. I’m glad to see a watch like this bringing some of the old magic back, even if modern prices (and the inevitable brand hype) make it unfortunately much more an ownership fantasy than the references of decades past.

Audemars Piguet Code 11:59 Starwheel: A Beloved Alternative Time Display Gets A Futuristic New Face

Posted on by Adam Keith
(Futuristic and space-age in its new form–the AP Starwheel is back!)

Time displays on watches and clocks with hour and minute hands are right up there with the ancient sundial in terms of what people think of as the very fundamentals of marking the days and nights in an ancient planetary reality that passes by oblivious to our cares of tracking it. But watchmakers in their endless ingenuity–and desire to distinguish themselves, as well as appease noteworthy clients–have certainly produced many interesting alternatives to the good old methods we so often expect. One of the most beloved, and bewitching, emerged from the house of Audemars Piguet in the 1990s. Known as the Starwheel, its entrancing system of rotating satellites in transparent sapphire were based on a wandering hours complication devised more than three centuries earlier at the behest of a Pope who’s sleep was continually marred by the incessant ticking of conventional clocks. The Brothers Campani (Giuseppe, Matteo, and Pietro) succeeded in creating a clock with a silent escapement, solving the Papal Predicament, but also delivered an additional delight: an unusual time display that substituted rotating discs for hands, and when backlit by a candle, could be easily read day or night. It was this ancient clock that inspired the Starwheel watch, originally produced in a variety of precious metals and in several different case designs, but Audemars Piguet would finally pull the plug on this mysterious beauty by the early 2000s, consigning the Starwheel to history. But now, Audemars Piguet has brought it back, this time in the controversial new Code 11:59 collection. Does it still bring the magic?

(An original Starwheel watch from the 1990s. A couple other variations were made, including a Millenary model, before discontinuation.)

Personal views about the Starwheel, and its charms aside, there’s no question that the Code 11:59 Starwheel is a radically different interpretation than it’s 1990s predecessor. The latter, sized at a traditional 36mm represented the Audemars Piguet of “Holy Trinity” old, when it stood as much for ultra-thin, highly complicated, and dressy watches as it did for a coveted sports watch shaped vaguely like a Porthole, and all the associated variants of that line that would issue forth. Aesthetic details on the original, such as the classic hobnail (or in some variants, hand engraved filigree) pattern on the golden dial elements, the font of the Audemars Piguet signature, and the semi-circular minute track upon which the sapphire discs each with four “hours” slowly traverse, and then turn, to show the passage of time, all represent a bygone era before “Royal Oak mania” consumed all. The Code 11:59, a watch line AP has brought forth to show that the brand is more than just the Royal Oak, had to turn up the stylistic heat. The case, at a healthy 41mm in diameter, brings a lot of modernity to the concept, without straying into ridiculous excess the sorts of which the early 2000s trends were known for. This happy medium, you might say, has been buoyed further by an intricate case construction in which 18K white gold and ceramic create a union that is luxurious, yet somehow readily wearable and not overly formal. That aspect is an important one for times in which classic principles of formality are out the window, and buyers expect watches that can ride along with their lifestyle, not bog it down or look out of place.

(The case and crystal, like the movement, is highly complex and multi-dimensional. A feast for the eyes!)

Impressive indeed is the way in which the gorgeous aventurine glass on the dial’s lower level creates the ambience of a starry sky, giving some added mystery to the hour numeral bearing discs, now no longer in transparent sapphire, but PVD-coated aluminum. Compared to the predecessor, what charm might be lost from the view you got through the sapphire discs to the underlying mechanism below, you gain on a different level from an overall more futuristic, and bolder, to say nothing of easier to read, format. One could certainly argue, pretty effectively, that Audemars Piguet may have drawn a lot of inspiration from the many delightfully quirky wandering hour watches produced by Urwerk, but given how ridiculously cool Urwerk watches are, that’s hardly a bad thing. The complex (and costly to manufacture) double-curved sapphire crystal of the Code 11:59 is a thing to behold, and it’s optical tricks really play to the beautiful dial materials, and three dimensional thrust of the central satellite bearing the curved hour discs. In this respect, the Code 11:59 has an entirely different vibe than the classic 1990s era Starwheel watch, and stands on its own, aesthetically. It might not be as dressy or representative of a classic era of watchmaking, but it presents a face that is undeniably attractive to behold, and really showcases the high luxury aspect of AP finishing, materials, and concepts—all while not being a Royal Oak. And, wasn’t that the point after all? AP could have just thrown out a Royal Oak Starwheel, but they chose to use their controversial new design to reintroduce the complication, and that…takes some horological balls. No matter how it may be received by the public, I respect Audemars Piguet for venturing out of the almost expected Royal Oak and RO Offshore arena, and showing us why they are one of the preeminent watchmakers in the world. And in horological quality, the watch definitely shines, from the wandering hour workings (of course), to the constructive quality of the base in-house AP 4310 movement which you can see just below, a contemporary yet elegantly constructed caliber that shines with characteristic Vallee de Joux finishing finery, yet fills the case nicely as a proper movement should, all while offering a pleasingly lengthy 70 hour power reserve. Unlike the original Starwheel (which used a Jaeger-LeCoultre 889 base movement elaborated by Audemars Piguet for the wandering hours), the Code 11:59 offers up a centrally-mounted sweeping seconds function. I’m not sure I personally favor this, as the lack of a seconds hand on the original rather added to the mystery and visual calm of the slowly turning table of subtly rotating hour discs. Then again, the overall presentation of the Code 11:59 is busier and more modern than the first generation Starwheel, so a center seconds isn’t really discordant here. The second hand also creates some activity for the dial, that will certainly be preferred by some. As with many things, it really comes down to preference.

(The elegant bridges are adorned with a combination of machine and hand finishing, and the open-worked rotor is in 22K gold)

Yes, the Code 11:59 Starwheel is very much its own watch, despite springing from the same house as its illustrious predecessor, and bearing clear inspiration of that legend. So does it succeed? I think it does! There is room for both Starwheels in a collection, and I suspect the hardcore Audemars Piguet collector–especially with a genuine penchant for the house as a watchmaking powerhouse rather than a mere luxury lifestyle juggernaut–will probably feel much the same. For those customers, the steep yet not preposterous $57,900 asking price of this unusual, heavy-hitting Audemars Piguet will be a reasonable one, and the resultant presence on the wrist will create plenty of happiness as time…dare I say, rolls on by?

(Sweep seconds weren’t present in the original Starwheel, but it isn’t aesthetically out of place on the Code 11:59)

MB&F Legacy Machine Sequential Evo: A Madcap Luxury Chronograph Unlike Any Other In The World

Posted on by Adam Keith

When MB&F Friend (perhaps more accurately, “watchmaking wizard“) Stephen McDonnell gets together with the brand’s founder Maximilian Büsser, and the pair decide its time to envision any noted watchmaking complication in an entirely new way, the world of horology had best strap itself in and prepare to be thrilled. As Stephen did with the perpetual calendar, the Legacy Machine Sequential Evo we’re looking at today is a creation which pushes both technique and aesthetics to new heights. Beyond haute de gamme craftsmanship and hyperexclusivity–both of which this watch has in spades–the Sequential Evo reflects a joy of creation and a dynamic approach to solving technical problems that elevate it well above your typical luxury mechanical timepiece. While the chronograph complication itself is extremely prolific in the marketplace, in implementations from unremarkable mass production workhorses to the finest examples of the watchmaker’s art, at MB&F it has been nearly entirely reinvented, creating something of the excitement we might have felt well over a century ago, seeing a great complication appear for the very first time. The resultant watch is deserving of the resounding accolades it has received since introduction: In simplest glance, a handwound movement of 585 immaculately finished parts, drives two separately usable column wheel-controlled vertical clutch chronograph mechanisms, these all under the governance of one escapement and balance wheel; yet, a unique and never before attempted “Twinverter” function operable via the button at 9 o’clock allows the chronographs to be synchronized or made independent from one another at will, allowing timing possibilities that no chronograph before it has ever been capable of.

(The mechanism is fully exposed on the dial, spanned by a beautifully polished 3D bridge and gently pulsating balance)

It’s easiest to simply see the watch in action to appreciate how unusual and remarkable it is, and the MB&F team’s entertaining video does a great job of that here. If there were ever a more engaging timepiece to interact with–with the possible exception of maybe an erotic automata minute repeater–I can’t imagine it. This piece is also a thing of real beauty, one of the most mechanically intricate chronographs since the A. Lange & Söhne Datograph blew our collective socks off back in 1999 (and still does, frankly). But the solutions that this piece employs are quirky and unique in a way that can’t be compared to anything out there in the high horology realm, as is the situation with other watches….excuse me, Machines!…from Maximilian Büsser & Friends.

(Three dimensionality and complex finishing reigns, creating an object as visually striking as it is technically wondrous)

The technical characteristics of this groundbreaking high horology chronograph have been well described elsewhere, and the team at MB&F haven’t been shy about divulging its many unusual and breathtaking mechanical summits. As an enthusiast, what grabs me about this watch–and very viscerally so–is the remarkable way in which these feats have been joined in conjunction with the finest demonstration of classical watchmaking finish and attention to aesthetic nuance. Moreover, the many aesthetic details, from the finishing of bridges and wheels, to the case and crystal, whilst being classic in nature, do not pander to classicism for its own sake; rather, they serve to emphasize just how avant garde, virtuoso–and somehow, subtly futuristic–the Legacy Machine Sequential Evo really is. As a counterstudy, consider Montblanc’s resurrection of Minerva, and the achingly beautiful chronographs finished to perfection we’ve seen emerge from that atelier: in short, laudatory examples of traditional watchmaking craft with the best in 19th century technology and finish. By contrast, the MB&F Sequential Evo is no less impressively crafted, but it strikes for a different and more audacious mark, and achieves something that no one–not Patek Philippe, not Audemars Piguet, nor even A. Lange & Sohne or another lofty house of high horology–has. Not content to simply produce a chronograph worthy of Willy Wonka levels of pure imagination, Max Büsser and his company went the further step to ensure the Sequential Evo would even be surprisingly practical and non-fussy for day to day life. A so-called “FlexRing” shock absorber insulates the movement nicely from day to day jostles, and protects the complex caliber it encircles. Also highly notable is the excellent 80 meter water resistance of the immaculately finished and sculptural 44mm case (of 74 parts, and in Zirconium no less!), no mean feat for a case with this many controls, buttons, and hence…holes for moisture to ingress. Pure badassery, if you want to be blunt about things!

(Note jewels in gold chatons, exquisite interior angles on the bridges, and the exceedingly fine detailing of the two large wheels)

While the price tag is certainly (and predictably) astronomical, MB&F’s Legacy Machine Sequential Evo somehow seems an actual good value, at least relative to other hyper watches in this rarefied echelon. When you consider the sheer mechanical boundaries that have been broken, fanatical attention to traditional watchmaking craft, and refreshing–even daring–aesthetic parameters it embodies, One Hundred And Eighty Grand seems much more digestible. If you have the funds. And…IF you can get one, as the word has been out on the extraordinary pieces of MB&F for some time now, with wait lists extending out many years. At least in this instance, the wait would be well worth it. Until then, and for the rest of us mere financial mortals, the fantasy is pretty satisfying too.

(The “Atomic Orange” color variant of the Sequential Evo. Hot, like the watch!)

Cartier Pebble 2022: Ravishing Style At The Intersection of Fine Watchmaking And High Jewelry

Posted on by Adam Keith
(It’s back! One of the rarest Cartier beauties has reappeared for 2022 as a numbered, limited edition of 150 pieces)

Just look at it. Those sensual curves, the intersection between the 18K gold case, which almost appears as it were a melting cube of finest butter, and the inverted square crystal which seems melting back into the former in turn. It is a subtle duet to bewitch the eye and create the illusion that the iconically elongated Roman numerals are bending and distorting, yet that impression is not deceptive enough to take away from instant readability of the time shown upon the impeccable canvas of discreet eggshell white. Upon it, where we note the famous “CARTIER” signature tucked away within the seven marker, fire-blued sword hands slowly move their way through the implacable passage of time, in steady measure with absolute confidence that only the most stylish objects–much like rare individuals–can project. The Cartier Pebble, a reissue of an extremely scarce Cartier wristwatch dating to the early 1970s and produced in only the smallest handful, is back and destined to take its place among the most beautiful and iconic Cartier designs….even if we discount the almost dismissive nickname it acquired here in the United States, suggesting our most famous pastime and the shape of the field that sport is played on. And if we talk about icons and the name Cartier in the same breath, there’s certainly been no shortage of those since the multi-generational family of jewelers and artists made the eponymous brand a near synonym with the highest points of refined luxury, confident iconic design, and refined workmanship. The client list over the many decades since the early 1900s on certainly speaks for itself.

(Do clothes–or a watch–make the man, or woman? A Pebble must at least increase one’s debonair factor considerably! The one pictured is one of the rare originals, which inspired this edition. With few minor exceptions, the reissue is nearly identical)

Models like the Tank (and its many scintillating variations such as the Asymetrique), the Santos, the Tortue, and the playful, nearly psychedelic Crash are visual icons almost without peer in the world of luxury at large, instantly recognizable and classic, yet dashing and stimulating to the senses. While the Cartier brand is no stranger to making fine mechanical watches, occasionally even highly complicated ones, they are just as often seen as a house of fine jewelry, and alternately as a house of high fashion. In truth, the multiple identities of Cartier overlap endlessly, creating something of a unique phenomenon in the world of luxury. For me, it’s always been the magical simplicity of the greatest Cartier watches that distinguished these pieces, and even if dress watches haven’t often been my number one go-to, how could you say no to owning (or fantasizing about owning) something so beautiful as the Pebble? It would almost be worth going out and getting a fantastical, dapper wardrobe merely to keep pace with the watch itself! There aren’t many ticking objects for the wrist that get one into that mindset, but Cartier is among the few that invite such impractical flights of fancy.

(The Crash–another unusual yet impossibly attractive Cartier wristwatch, very different from the Pebble, yet of the same creative cloth)

And what of the Pebble Reissue, and its origins? Produced in a very small series of six to perhaps ten watches in 1973, and then only for the daring London market, it remains one of the rarest and least discussed Cartier wristwatches, despite that it seems something so effortlessly debonair and surefooted as to be a natural addition to more typically encountered Cartier models like the aforementioned Tank or Santos. Like those classics, but subtly quirkier in keeping with the wilder times it was born in, the Pebble is simple, yet somehow enticing–a pillowy round 36mm case of yellow gold, with a square crystal tipped on its edge are the basic ingredients, yet the resultant product is indeed compelling to both eye and fingers. Appealingly thin thanks to the manual-winding movement that animates it, it lives up to its name–appearing like a smooth little rock rounded by countless eons of tossing by the rolling ocean. Grasping the little golden crown with its row of beaded projections and the gleaming sapphire cabochon set atop, it goes without saying that winding this watch to get the balance wheel swinging would be a true delight, and the fairly short 38 hour power reserve of the Piaget base caliber would only mean more opportunity to interact. The lack of small seconds is also an advantage here, as its absence gives a sense of serenity that would be lost with the extra hand whizzing about, and really….this is a watch that should take us away from anxiety over time’s passage, and into the pure of enjoyment of the finer things that can occupy it. It would be hoped that your time is full of enjoyable experiences; and, if you’re wearing this watch, I think it’s safe to say the odds of that being the case are certainly greater than average. (And if not, they’ve certainly gotten one hell of a lot better.)

The only regrettable point to this utterly charming gold wristwatch is the sheer scarcity of them. Just 150 will be made, and while that’s a goodly greater quantity than the original, it will remain a rare and hard to acquire item. I suppose that’s the way of truly desirable luxury, though. The nearly $45,000 price is quite a high hurdle as well, and while I can certainly agree there are far more technically artful watches with simple three handed displays and for considerably less money to boot (the delicious A. Lange & Sohne Saxonia Thin, for example), there is a certain intangible design magic to this watch for the right buyer, that will simply prove irresistible against even the most lofty horological champions. That, in a nutshell, is the power of Cartier.

Omega Speedmaster Chrono Chime: Powerful Superflex Against The Crown

Posted on by Adam Keith
(The most complex watch Omega has ever produced, and a world premiere combination of complications!)

The battle between Rolex and Omega for the heart and souls of buyers in the upper-mid tier segment of the Swiss watch industry is one of the enduring sagas of the luxury world. A strange thing to consider, given the age disparity between the two brands–Louis Brandt’s 1848 atelier that would later become the Greek symbol had a goodly head start on Rolex, which didn’t emerge from the consciousness of already enterprising young sales genius Hans Wilsdorf until 1908, and even further take shape as the watches we know and covet until 1926 onward. However, looking at it from the perspective of our current times, it’s still quite easy to forget that there is anything but Rolex as the dominant king, the very archetype, of what a luxury wristwatch is. Indeed, the Rolex inventions of an incredibly sturdy waterproof case, a revised and extremely reliable selfwinding movement of exceptional functional and chronometric excellence, and designs that have aged beautifully and consistently have all contributed to that assurance, and with it, the prowess of an object that has exceeded the very concept of a watch to become a talisman of success, or an alternative form of currency at times; of late, the Rolex aura has gone even farther into the realm of a speculative investment, for better or worse. In short, Rolex is a nonpareil within the market, when compared to products both below and well above its tier within horology. Much of that has certainly been due to an excellent product combined with equally superlative (*ahem*) marketing. If it weren’t for the latter, and the consistency of the brand message, would we still see Rolex as we do? When considering Omega’s own massive contributions to horology for well over a century, some may begin to wonder a bit, and when products like THIS are revealed…it also begs the question, is it an outright travesty that Omega isn’t the undisputed master in this ongoing battle for buyer affection?

(A fusion between high tech and traditional watchmaking craft, the 1932 Caliber is extensively hand-finished, including its bridges of frosted 18K “Sedna” gold. The beautifully beveled hammers stand ready to strike the gongs when activated, and the Co-Axial Escapement with it’s silicon hairspring ensures antimagnetic resilience to 15,000 Gauss.)

Behold the new 18K Sedna gold Speedmaster Chrono Chime and consider what watchmaking fireworks it brings to the table. The most complicated Omega caliber to date, and replete with the now obligatory Co-Axial Escapement, as well as a master chronometer certification, it offers the world’s first minute repeater variant on the beloved chronograph complication, and not just any chronograph complication mind you, but the notoriously complex split-second variety (all complete with a rapid 5Hz balance frequency and the resultant 1/10th second timing precision)! But let’s get back to the most romantic part of this highly technical watch, and what makes it a different from the already prestigious “normal” minute repeater: as a standalone complication, the typical repeater chimes the hours in a low tone, the quarter hours with a high-low combination, and the remaining minutes on top (if any) in individual treble peals when the slide piece on the case is activated. In the Speedmaster Chime, the minute repeating mechanism chimes not the hours and minutes of the time your watch shows, but rather the elapsed time presented by the chronograph display after its use to measure a sequence. So for example, if you were to activate and run the chronograph for 5 minutes, and 53 seconds, and then halt it before activating the repeater mechanism, you’ll hear a series of these notes: low tone (x 5) to indicate the five minutes, a high/low combination x 3 (to represent the three quarters up to :45), and a finale of eight individual treble tones to mark the individual minutes. The tempo of these strikes is beautifully controlled by a patented governor mechanism to allow maximum sonority and clarity of sound as well, something which only a few of the greatest companies (like Patek Philippe) really have down to a wondrous science. Have a listen for yourself here, to hear what you can expect should an Omega Chrono Chime cross your path.

(A dial of starry aventurine glass enamel, and beautiful guilloched details but scratch the surface of the complexity and craft contained beneath)

Omega’s long and rich brand heritage is sometimes lost in a sea of limited edition offerings, and I think–as many probably have lamented as well–that this has been its biggest consistent weakness. It is, perhaps, an inevitability with Omega’s status as the commercially mightiest brand within a corporate portfolio of the mighty Swatch Group, where new (and not always inspired) product is constantly being produced to keep brand revenue and stock market share prices up. Yet, while this Devil’s Due of having the might of the corporate giant behind it has had this occasionally cheapening effect on the perception by hobbyists, the very considerable positive side has been hugely deep pockets to develop the horological might of the great Omega, much as we’ve seen with smaller, more niche brands in the group, such as Breguet and Blancpain. Indeed, it was the deep high horology expertise of the group’s sister Blancpain brand, which was tapped to bring this project to fruition, a long-term benefit to both maisons, at least as far as I see the situation. And make no mistake, the inspiration of creations like the Chrono Chime (as well as other less complex but appealing releases) certainly make up for the occasional Swatch Group peccadillo here and there.

(Holder of 15 patents, and 5 years in development before release, Omega’s Chime caliber comprises 575 hand finished parts. On top of its exceptional complications, it offers 1/10th second timing precision, and all the remarkable magnetism resistance of a Master Chronometer)

Despite what sometimes seems to be, Omega as a whole is much, much more than gimmicky Agent 007-themed divers, and the umpteenth basic Speedmaster Moon Watch edition. Nor is it even “just” about making dependable everyday luxury watches of fine quality at reasonable prices, such as the versatile Aqua Terra or the now-iconic wave-dialed Seamaster 300M line. Omega is a brand that has crossed horological disciplines like few others. As a start, its fanatical devotion to chronometric excellence through the years is remarkable, and like arch-competitor Rolex, Omega have devoted themselves to manufacturing series-produced movements of exceptional practical quality, culminating in the series production of the Daniel’s Co-Axial Escapement, a really remarkable thing if you consider the almost universal hegemony of the Swiss Lever across the watch industry. Omega’s long-standing commitment to creating tool watches suitable for adventures above the earth, and below the deepest oceans is equally impressive, and while Rolex may have great chops in this arena as well, Omega’s mightiest technical watches of both past and present can rival anything the crown has made, and sometimes arguably surpass them. And while haute horlogerie has not been the Omega’s bread and butter compared to the great Swiss patricians like Vacheron Constantin, AP, or Patek, the brand from Biel has certainly produced more than their fair share of remarkable tourbillon watches (both within the parameters of chronometer competitions and production watches such as the Central Tourbillon), minute repeaters, perpetual calendars, and of course…exquisite and innovative chronographs, such as the masterpiece under discussion. None of this sort of mechanical art can be claimed by Rolex, and while one can say that this isn’t Rolex’s game and be right in so doing, it means that Omega offers a combination of diversity, quality, watchmaking prestige, and technical audacity–all with a certain humility of sorts–that is scarcely matched by anyone. It’s been said by a lot of fans that Omega has been on a real roll for the past decade, and I’d have to agree. While not many may have the resources to buy a Speedmaster Chrono Chime or its more subtly luxurious mechanical twin, the 1932 Chrono Chime seen below, the unadulterated watchmaking craft and engineering behind this titan is a tacit nod to the ingenuity and quality contained, albeit in smaller measure, within every Omega currently offered, as well as many references from the past. In a world where luxury watch delivered value is seemingly ever more smoke and mirrors, that kind of authentic prestige is the sort that can make one really proud to wear and support a brand.

(The “other” version of the magnificent Chrono Chime is seen here, in the “Olympic 1932”, an homage to classic Omega sports chronographs which cemented Omega’s proud status as official timer of the Olympic Games. While more austere than the Speedmaster Chrono Chime, with movement oriented differently to shift the subdials, it has a charming pocket-watch adapted style and a classic hand-fired enamel dial)

Tudor Pelagos 39: An All In One “Best Hits” Dive Watch That Tantalizes And Frustrates

Posted on by Adam Keith
(A splash of red is a little touch, but has huge gravitas, especially within the confines of dive watches in the Rolex universe)

Wow, it’s been over a month since my last post! Time sure does fly when you’re embroiled in the busybody machinations of a move, and all the sundry re-organizing that accompanies it, but such is how things go, as nearly anyone who’s been there a time or four can begrudgingly attest. Now that I’m in new and tidier quarters, Dear Readers, it’s time to get back to our favorite idiosyncratic hobby. And while there are many watches I could blather on about to dust off the keyboard, I think the proverbial crosshairs will settle on some low hanging horological fruit–the new and blazingly white hot Tudor Pelagos 39, Reference M25407N-0001. A titillating mashup that combines beloved design cues from both vintage Tudor and it’s big brother Rolex, as well as appealing, practical modern materials, and near-perfection in the realm of universal sports watch proportion, the Pelagos 39 is a new superstar of luxury divers that ticks so many boxes–and that’s even before considering the shockingly reasonable price tag. Indeed, one might wonder what out there can possibly challenge it as the watch to beat in its segment.

(It might be marketed as a lifestyle watch, but the Pelagos 39 is as capable as any Tudor Diver. Style points are just extra!)

Nothing is perfect of course. But the Tudor Pelagos 39 comes shockingly close, at least in the beloved realm of sports watches, and the dive watch genre particularly. I’ve stated before, and I’m far from the first to make the point, that watches in the 38-40mm range occupy a rare happy medium that satisfies arguments for large and bold, as well as smaller and more classic, watches with equal aplomb. At 39mm, the Tudor Pelagos can be worn beautifully on daintier wrists at six inches in below, and behemoths over eight inches, a feat smaller or larger timepieces can’t really pull off to the same degree, its feathery lightness from the soft gray, hypoallergenic Grade 2 Titanium making it almost an afterthought of effortlessness. The dial, blessedly free of a date display to mar the classic symmetry that makes us all sigh a little, recalls classic plexiglass-adorned 5512 and 5513 Rolex Submariners. At the same time though, it adds new spice of its own with Tudor’s three-dimensional block luminous plots, which incidentally are matched in brilliance by the fully luminous bezel insert, a real feat of pyrotechnics when the lights go low on your Pelagos 39. And we can’t forget that alluring “Pelagos” in crimson, a nod to famous references made by Rolex in the 1960s and 1970s, such as the wildly coveted “Double Red” Sea-Dwellers and the “Red Submariner” variants of the 1680 Submariner Date. The bezel and crown and both crisply and usefully knurled, the former extending usefully past the case edge, giving just the slightest amplification to the 39mm case diameter (making it wear more like a 40 or perhaps 41mm watch) and assuring operational ease no matter how slippery the hands turning it may be; the large winding crown now far more recalls the design and look of it’s famous Rolex counterparts than previous editions of Tudor divers, and with the backing of Big Green (Rolex) behind it, you can be certain that water most certainly will not pass its many protective gaskets…at least assuming the owner attends to servicing at even the most modest intervals. And man do those pointed crown guards look good, providing both plenty of protection to the winding crown, and recalling the profile of some of the rarest 1950s and 60s treasures of Rolex and Tudor alike. Yet at the end of the day, the modern Tudor concept remains potent, chiefly through the signature Snowflake hands and seconds hand lume pips. It looks the business, yet keeps tool watch functionality undiminished. In keeping with that theme, the all brushed case and bracelet flow together lithely, just as you’d expect from a hardcore, titanium dive watch bearing the redoubtable Tudor shield, now with no faux rivets to spoil the party. It seemed that Tudor heeded the laments of its faithful fans, who’d been rather unhappy for some time about these sorts of overwrought vintage design elements. And Tudor even went a step further to rectify those sins of the recent past by throwing in a complimentary, very well designed rubber strap with the Pelagos 39, as if to sweeten the deal, and show these buyers and enthusiasts that versatility and value are the way forward.

(Low-key, lightweight, and impervious to corrosion, titanium construction defines the Tudor Pelagos 39)

Less harmonious perhaps is the modest sunburst effect on the dial and the sheen of the subtly striated ceramic bezel, and that brings us to our first points of discord. Would a (*sniff*) “real tool watch” have these crass, glamorous cues? Does this seem in fitting with the Pelagos design ethic that brought forth such technically brutish beauties like the original Pelagos 500M, to say nothing of the purpose-built Pelagos FXD, with it’s unique strap lugs and unflappable connection to the hardcore combat swimmers of the French Marine Nationale-an outfit who still relies upon that watch’s capabilities to this day? Is this new addition to this distinguished company–the upstart Pelagos 39–conceived to be a dive watch that might be a fashionable tag-along…or a fashion item first that just happens to be a kickass tool that any diver would be happy to tote as a backup? Tudor’s marketing angle suggests the latter, and while that’s just marketing–not the essence of the product itself–it really does sort of affect how buyers might be swayed by the watch. Ah, but the general luxury owner and the true enthusiast are zebras of very different stripes, aren’t they? Needless to say, it is us (the watch geeks) that seem to be less unsure of the combination offered us, even if we recognize that the result is, like a multi-platinum song we hear far too often, damn catchy to say the least, even great…despite being a well-calculated commercial juggernaut. But Rolex and its more modestly priced sibling brand have not achieved the success they enjoy by being blind to the larger public, so should we be surprised? This is indeed a watch created to sell supremely well and increase Tudor market share. At the same time, there is nothing cheesy or inauthentic; it is quality through and through, and a watch worthy of admiration beyond the hashtags of a fawning consumer base. As I result, I suspect that many aficionados who might now feel aloof to this Prom King of dive watches, might just be tempted to pick one up when pre-owned examples begin to circulate at prices too tempting to pass up, and more are seen in the wild. I mean, just consider what you get…

(Much has been made about the sunburst dial, but it really only comes alive in the light…still, can’t a tool watch be pretty too? I think it can!)

I see the Tudor Pelagos 39 for exactly what it is: a ridiculously well-balanced and attractive diver with a useful and entirely appropriate, but not necessarily overpowering, amount of water resistance. On that issue, 200 meters is more than enough for the vast majority of serious dive usage, and while helium valves might excite the dive watch tech-heads, the fact is, beyond the hyper specialized world of saturation divers, the presence of one of these little gas release valves means just another potential vulnerability in the case, a tiny hole that might fail when the chips are down. So, the lack of that specific feature might actually make the Pelagos 39 a better tool for most, be said buyer be a dedicated diver, swimmer, or an active person who happens to be around aquatic environments of any kind, and in fact, the aforementioned Pelagos FXD is similarly non-equipped for exactly the same reason. The MT5402 movement inside the Pelagos 39 is of the same COSC-certified dependable Kenissi/Tudor family tree that powers the Black Bay 58, and most other modern Tudors. In short, the full balance bridge, silicon escapement, and 70-hour power reserve means the movement within is exceedingly well matched to the task at hand, and offers quality of the highest practical level, mechanically speaking, minus any decorative or finishing excess. And what of the bracelet? In addition to the lightweight and corrosion resistant titanium material that means featherweight comfort for just about anyone, the Pelagos 39 offers a brilliantly engineered “T-Fit” clasp extension system that really leaves you wanting for little (where slick on-the-fly fine and gross adjustments are concerned) even when directly compared to the rightly adored Rolex Glidelock unit found on the far more expensive Rolex Submariner; if for some reason you don’t like said bracelet, then swap it out for the very nicely designed rubber strap with titanium buckle (and clever wetsuit extender piece!) that comes along at no additional surcharge. Great looks? Check. True dive and all-round sports watch capability? Check. Brand heritage? In spades. So, what exactly is the problem? Perception. By that, I mean that had the Pelagos 39 been introduced in a campaign showing professional divers moving about in dimly lit water, signalling to one another whilst glancing purposefully at the brightly lumed bezels of their 39s, rather than models lounging in the pool on a set, this watch would have come up nothing but raves amongst the cognoscenti…well, at least for those who can accept an exceptional all-rounder. As it stands, Tudor’s newest Pelagos entry somehow appears too slickly packaged, too commercially coiffed, like a superstar athlete such as Tom Brady, or chart-topping songs by one of several Butt Rock bands over the years that everyone claims to hate, but has probably hummed–or perhaps even sung along with–more than a few times, at least when no one else was around, because y’know…the lyrics and riffs were in fact, just that catchy. Only here, the salability of the thing doesn’t diminish its excellence.

(On male or female wrists of many dimensions, this 39mm diver will be a handsome, versatile companion)

And therein lies the watch purist’s conundrum. This is a very capable dive tool that just happens to be a ravishingly good looking wristwatch on top of it, and fully ready to be the companion for anything a wearer might desire…even if those wearing habits are far more poolside (or river side, or snowy mountain side even) than on the slimy slop inside a diving boat or bell. That this watch can take on the hardcore adventure duties with ease is just frosting on the cake, but Rolex/Tudor know you (the watch nerd) know that. They also know that the general luxury buyer who desires image and lifestyle above all else is the prime force that drives their revenue, and if a few watch idiot savants want to come along, well…so be it. Unlike some, I accept that my proclivities are not what drives growth in the industry, but I’ll take my victories when I can. And, when compared with the indignity of admitting you’ve hummed a Nickelback song, there’s really no need to save any face if you return from the authorized dealer with one of these buckled on. It might not be the most hardcore Tudor diver ever designed, or laden with the edgiest personality, nor a replacement for Rolex’s all-important icon (the Submariner and its kin), but the Pelagos 39 does everything a great everyday watch needs to do, while looking superb in the process, and can accompany you to more elegant places after you conquer the wilds atop or below the waves. Come to think of it, that comprehensive talent would make the Pelagos 39 just about the very archetype of the wristwatch ideal envisioned by Rolex (and not long after, Tudor) founder, Hans Wilsdorf, back when the Oyster case was but a gleam in his mind’s eye. The clincher? All of this goodness comes at an asking price of just $4,400. And with that, there’s nothing more I can add other than saying, “go on…treat yourself“. Stop being the contrarian elitist, and quietly succumb to the worthy charms of a timepiece whose popularity will be unstoppable, and understandably so; be it an addition to a watch collection, or a first and only watch for the aspirational watch lover, the Tudor Pelagos 39 is a winner already poised to be a contemporary classic.

(The rubber strap would be a cool addition to buy…wonder what it costs? Oh wait: it comes with every watch standard! Bravo, Tudor.)

TAG Heuer Carrera Red Dial Limited Edition: A Crimson-Hued Chronograph Sure To Quicken The Pulse

Posted on by Adam Keith

Colors are big passion items in the world of luxury watches, more specifically the world of watch dials. Metallic greens, the famous (or perhaps even infamous) “Tiffany blue”, yellows, purples, and other vibrant tones have created a huge excitement around references from the most beloved–and at times overplayed–brands like Rolex, Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguet, as well as plenty of others. TAG Heuer is no stranger to the game, and is clearly committed to not being forgotten where such audacity is concerned. One of their most recent hat tosses into the ring of conspicuously colored timepieces is this particularly luscious red dial for the iconic and faithfully retro 39mm Carrera Chronograph. While the Carrera red dial variant will be a scarce commodity due to its limited edition status of 600 pieces, it’s worth taking a moment to appreciate all that this classically handsome–and all in all, quite reasonably priced–Swiss chronograph offers.

There is a lot to love about this watch. While cases sizes, and fashion trends around that fabled ideal for whatever kind of timepiece is under discussion (dress watch, dive watch, etc…and lets not even get into “appropriate” sizes for ladies and men!) fluctuate more than the prices of cryptocurrencies, it’s very hard to argue with a watch in the 38-40mm range as anything less than ideal when considering The Whole. In fact, if there’s been one constant in the years I’ve followed the luxury watch scene is that a timepiece in that range is about as close to mythical perfection as there is. And on a personal level, I can’t really disagree: indeed, a watch in this range straddles a nuanced line between the dress and sports watch with aplomb and works well for slender as well as decidedly girthier wrists, and a range of statures. At 39mm, the Carrera Chronograph Red is bang on that bullseye, and possesses all the versatility this seemingly optimal size envelope commands. At 14.7mm thick, it isn’t exactly a ultraplate dress watch, but given that it possesses a keenly engineered integrated chronograph movement, it’s not a bloated hockey puck either; weighed against the 39mm case diameter, the case thickness creates a sense of harmony and proportion, that ideally suit a watch that can go zany-dressy, or casual chic with effortless charm. While no watch will probably ever dethrone the Omega Speedmaster Professional as the strap whore of all time, this ticking red light district by TAG Heuer will certainly give it a run for its money. And of course, I mean this in the most respectful way possible! The power of a strap to transform a watch’s character and presence is not to be underestimated, and the Heuer Carrera and its descendants are among the best of the breed. Dress, casual, and everything in between: this is a wrist chronograph that can become what you require, and regardless of material, color, stitching, or other variables, the end result can bewitch….all ruled over by the ruby red dial with its achingly beautiful and uncluttered, early 1960s aesthetic. Just using the word “ruby” reminds me of a famous set of slippers from a legendary Hollywood production, and indeed, the color here is not far off from that seen on Dorothy’s magical kicks! The adventures the Heuer Carrera red dial reminds us of, however, are found less inside a vortex spawned by witchcraft, but a specialized ring of asphalt engineered for high speed pursuits.

What do I mean? Well, the descendants of this Carrera chronograph were the brainchild of Jack Heuer, and these watches were one of the ultimate creations of their day, a time that auto racing was, shall we say, really taking off, and chronograph watches were in increasingly fevered demand by everyone from the average weekend hobbyist, through the hardcore Hollywood racers like Paul Newman and Steve McQueen, and up to true race car drivers by profession. This clearly legible chronograph wristwatch carries on that legacy, with an enduring tricompax layout, the 30-minute and 12-hour counters horizontally arranged to be distinct from the continuous small seconds subdial. Beyond the luscious coloration, it’s hard not to enjoy the finely engraved little rings on the subdials, the finely polished facets on the hour markers and hands, and the sloped rehaut that, to me at any rate, rather recalls the old “banked” racing tracks of the early 20th century, a time when the thrills of great speed in an automobile were intoxicating for their novelty, but due to few safety limitations, exceedingly risky to life and limb for those who dared! The creamy luminous material applied to the hands has a distinctly yellowish hue, which will please some and annoy others. I feel the aged lume effect worked a bit better on certain other versions of the Carrera (such as an older silver dialed option, where it created a nice contrast) but the ecru is hardly worth any serious objection, and the thin strips in no way overpower the total effect. Instead, we fixate on that beautiful dial, and the charming visual distortions the boxed sapphire crystal creates with any shift of the wrist, or a change in lighting. This is a classic chronograph, and will be appreciated as such, all the more so because “TAG” has been omitted from the dial signature, a respectful nod to the days when the mighty Heuer reigned supreme as a notable producer of Swiss chronographs, minus the additives of an acquiring company who’s vision–while valuable in its own right–represented vastly different values than those of the “early years” from whence Heuer brought forth its wares. Still, we have to respect what TAG has brought to the game, including their movement manufacturing might, so let’s cut right to that…

(A cool, modern chronograph caliber that still has the goods connoisseurs cherish keeps the Carrera 39mm more than just a pretty face)

The TAG Heuer Caliber HEUER02 movement appearing through the sapphire screw-in caseback may not be of A. Lange & Sohne level artwork, but it combines technical prowess and manufacturing precision admirably. Vertical clutch for efficient gear meshing and stutter-free operation of the chronograph central seconds hand? Check. Integrated rather than modular chronograph construction? Yep. Connoisseur-desired column wheel switching? You got it! Modern self-winding efficiency and an impressive power reserve expected in a current production caliber? Yes indeed, the latter topping out at a full 80 hours, which should give this ample running time to be a solid rotation if you have a collection of watches that need shared wrist-time through the week. The decoration, such as the Cotes de Geneve on the bridges and heavily cut-out rotor are machine applied but very neat, and project a sportive flair, that aspect being further enhanced by the bright red column-wheel and the matching caliber markings on the rotor. The movement is rather like a high performance car engine that has been engineered for performance above all else, but still gives the intrepid pilot a mighty fine show through a glass engine cover.

(The luminous dots and strips aren’t a torch, but still create an easily readable display in darkness)

At the end of the day, this is one of those refreshing watches that satisfies all our urges for past glories from “Watchmaking’s Golden Age”, yet doesn’t sacrifice mechanical excellence solely for the mere appearance of a nostalgic comfort. Here, in a perfectly sized chronograph with a historic model lineage, we don’t get yet another ETA or Sellita-based modular rehash (the functional capability of those solutions notwithstanding)…but instead, a manufacture exclusive, integrated column wheel caliber with vertical clutch and a generous power reserve. And, with the Carrera’s 100 meters of guranteed water resistance, that refined engine is also quite well protected, something you don’t always get with a chronograph timepiece, especially one so classically attired.

(The stainless deployant buckle, complete with the HEUER logo is, like the watch, a classy affair)

Perhaps best of all, the entirety of this vintage-inspired goodness comes at a pretty reasonable asking price of $6,750! The TAG Heuer Carrera Red is a refreshing example of a watch that one can get excited about on multiple levels, and the solid value proposition keeps it honest, as such things go. Even those blissfully go-lucky souls who demand style above all else, generally unconcerned with the inner workings, will be left with no want, as this is a sensual and beautiful to behold watch, its dial merely frosting on a very handsomely ribboned package: from the powerful angled lug tips, to the graceful and piston-like pump pushers that brings the stopwatch function to life, pause, and back again, the Heuer Carrera red dial limited edition is the sort of graceful yet saucy companion that could be buckled on the wrist via its deployant clasp, and leave the wearer very content with only it along for Life’s fast ride. (But, perish that thought, naturally!)

(A travel pouch is included, complete with matching red stitching. Who’d want to take this Carrera off, though?)