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All posts for the month May, 2012

Boschett spears a winner with ‘Harpoon’

Posted by Rob on 21 May 2012
Posted in: Boschett.

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Boschett just started shipping their new Harpoon dive watches, and it looks like they’ve got themselves another winner. I’ve dived with their popular Cave Dweller II in Cozumel and thought it performed exceptionally well in a variety of visibility conditions. But, spec for spec, the Harpoon has taken the CD II to a whole new level.

The Harpoon incorporates many of the most popular features of the CD II, including the bracelet’s ratcheting clasp, which allows for a proper fit over a wetsuit. It also retains the uncluttered dial of the CD II, and the supple five-link bracelet. But the Harpoon packs on the added features, starting with an ETA 2824-2 automatic movement (the CD II is only available now with the Miyota 8215). It features the quintessential “status” feature – that is, one that almost everyone wants on their dive watch but almost no one needs – with an automatic helium release valve. The second status feature is the 1000m water resistance rating, another bit of overkill given that no human has ever dived below 701m – or ever will.

But ridiculously high depth ratings are considered an essential part of what makes a real “tool” watch, so the Harpoon does not disappoint. With its massive case and 4.34mm-thick sapphire crystal, you know it could go that deep, even if its wearer never could.

What really makes the Harpoon stand out is how compact it actually is for a 1000m diver. The bezel features a raised saw-tooth grip that makes turning with even the thickest gloves a cinch. But even with the added height of that serrated lip, the Harpoon is more than a mm thinner than the CD II, at only 15.3mm. And the Harpoon has a surprisingly short overall length of 52mm, owing to short lugs which turn down sharply to hug the wrist. Consequently, despite its nominal 44mm diameter (actually, closer to 47mm across the diagonal), it wears much smaller than one would expect.

Of course, while it might wear smaller in physical dimensions, it makes up for that in weight, topping out the scales at a stout 275g. That’s more than 3/5 pound! If you like a hefty watch on your wrist, the Harpoon will never let you forget you’re wearing it.

The caseback graphics on the Harpoon deserve a special mention. Etched in deep relief is the image of a male silhouette poised to hurl a harpoon into the gaping maw of a horrific sea monster. The intricate design was the creation of Dave March, a graphic artist in the Tampa Bay area, who offered it to Keith Boschetti when he solicited design ideas on WatchUSeek. Frankly, it is one of the most appealing – and theme-appropriate – caseback designs I have seen.

In the water is where the Harpoon really excels, an excellent attribute for a dive watch. Its weight does not seem that significant once you’ve been wearing it for a while anyway, and becomes even less noticeable underwater. As mentioned, the saw-tooth bezel is extremely easy to grip, but it has a strong enough spring that it should not accidentally turn if the bezel should strike a surface at the wrong angle. And the dial is a thing of simple beauty … easy to read at a glance.

The lume is BGW9, which seems all the rage these days (as C3 was not that long ago). So much lumed area is provided on the dial and hands that, fully charged, you might need to tuck it into the bedside drawer, lest the glow keep you awake at night.

Finally, Boschett provides the Harpoon with two interchangeable bezels. The all-stainless bezel was shipped on the watches, and a version with a ceramic insert will be shipped in coming weeks.

The Harpoon is one of the best divers to spring forth from the mind of owner Keith Boschetti. Even more appealing, it is priced less than a hundred bucks more than the ETA version of the CD II, despite all of its extra features. If you like dive watches with some heft and size, no blingy features and excellent underwater capabilities, the Harpoon is hard to beat.

Rolex ups its diving game with Glidelock

Posted by Rob on 18 May 2012
Posted in: Rolex.

The Omega Seamaster Professional clasp was both sturdy and attractive

In 45 years of diving, I have seen the good, the bad and the ugly of dive watch bracelets and clasps.

For many years, the best I’ve used was the foldover clasp on the Omega Seamaster Professional, first introduced in the early-1990s. Its heavy, machined parts and precise operation made you feel confident in its functioning – above and below the surface – as well as delighted with its aesthetic appeal.

The heavy-duty, precisely machined components of the SMP clasp

And I found the flip-out divesuit extension to work quite well, at least when I dived in waters cold enough to require a wetsuit (I’m a committed warm water diver now).

The runner-up for most of those years was Rolex’s redoubtable Fliplock clasp, used on the Submariner and Sea Dweller models. I bought my first Submariner in 1981, to replace the Omega Seamaster 300 that had been lost a few years before. By this time, Rolex was using solid machined links, of which the ones closest to the clasp were removable by way of a threaded pin. Coupled with the micro-adjust holes in the clasp, the bracelet could be precisely fitted to any wrist and to suit any tastes.

The Fliplock featured a safety clasp that locked the clasp in place once closed, so that it could not pop open accidentally. It also had a flip-out divesuit extension, but it was stamped metal like the clasp. In fairness, while this seemed a bit flimsy in retrospect – especially compared to the beefier Omega extension – it always functioned as it should on dives and I never had any problems with it on dozens of dives.

The ‘ratcheting’ clasp on the Doxa 5000T

But, compared to the Seamaster Pro bracelet and clasp, the Sub bracelet no longer seemed the apotheosis of design I had theretofore considered it to be. I often considered buying another Submariner, but kept deciding against it because of the thin, “jangly” clasp.

In the past few years, another clasp – commonly referred to in dive watch circles as the “ratcheting” clasp – has exceeded even the Seamaster Pro clasp as especially well-suited for underwater use. It employs a push-button deployant very similar in design to the Omega clasp, but incorporates a novel divesuit extension that opens by way of another push-button.

The ‘ratcheting’ clasp on the UTS 1000m

Once fully extended – which adds from 12 to 18mm to the length of the bracelet – the clasp is “ratcheted” to a snug fit around one’s wrist (presumably over a divesuit). While variations of the design apparently have been around awhile, it has been extensively promoted on models for Doxa, UTS and Boschett.

But everything changed when Rolex introduced the Sea Dweller Deepsea in 2008. Among its many features was the new Glidelock clasp. Gone were the stamped metal parts of the Sea Dweller and Submariner clasps. Instead, Rolex had designed an entirely new clasp made from cast and machined parts. The closing mechanism used an articulating claw clasp, which provided a very positive “click” when closed, and opened by lifting the hinged head of the clasp, disengaging the claw. Even better, the clasp incorporated an incremental divesuit extension – dubbed Glidelock by Rolex – which allowed a diver to increase the bracelet length a total of 18mm, in 1.8mm increments. In addition, a much sturdier, machined fold-out divesuit extension was provided, allowing another 26mm of lengthening.

The Glidelock clasp on the Deepsea

The Glidelock mechanism worked by lifting the center part of the clasp, which incorporated ratchets to lock the bracelet lengthening when closed. Once lifted, the bracelet could be slid out to lengthen or in to shorten, allowing for a precise fit. Once adjusted, the center section closed to lock the bracelet at that length. Rolex’s safety clasp, which also was beefed up to a machined piece rather than the old stamping, provided the final assurance that the clasp would remain intact during strenuous use underwater.

The completely re-engineered dive clasp of the Rolex Deepsea and Submariner

Two years later, Rolex updated the venerable Submariner with many of the new features on the Deepsea, including a ceramic bezel and a slightly different version of the Glidelock clasp. Rather than a separate section in the center of the clasp that lifted to free the ratcheting mechanism, the Submariner clasp had the ratchet notches cast into the clasp itself, which was substantially thicker than its predecessor. The locking mechanism was incorporated into the links, which, when released, allowed the bracelet to slide out of or back into the clasp, with a full 20mm of adjustment in 2mm increments – enough to expand the bracelet to fit over a typical 3mm wetsuit.

The Rolex Glidelock clasp on the new Submariner

For years, dive watch enthusiasts who gladly – or grudgingly – paid the prices Rolex demanded for the Submariner had complained that the clasp on the watch did not match up to either the quality of the rest of the bracelet and case, or the selling price. With the advent of the Glidelock, however, Rolex has created a clasp which ranks as among the most utilitarian available to divers, as well as one of the most sturdily crafted. As a bonus, it is beautifully executed and enhances the overall appearance of the watch.

Note: I should point out that Seiko has had a clasp similar in function to the Glidelock on its vaunted Marine Master line. However, the Seiko clasp is made of stamped metal, similar to the old Rolex clasps, and exposes an unsightly pierced link when the extension is employed. While almost equally functional, the execution on the Seiko MM clasp pales in comparison to the Glidelock, especially on a watch that sells for almost $3,000.

Does size really matter?

Posted by Rob on 15 May 2012
Posted in: Potpourri.

This 36mm Rolex Datejust was my “daily wearer” before the size mania took over

Has it really been only a decade since I became infatuated with large watches? It seems almost a quaint notion now, but in the years before then I considered my 41mm Omega Seamaster Pro as huge, and enjoyed wearing my Seamaster 120 and Rolex Datejust more than any other watches (and at 37mm and 36mm, respectively).

Blame Sylvester Stallone, I suppose. I happened to catch him in “Daylight” late one night on cable, and really liked that cool watch he was sporting (it probably was the only thing that kept me watching that stink bomb). A little research revealed that he was wearing a Panerai Luminor.

The 44mm Panerai Luminor Submersible looks perfect on the Rock’s massive, 6½-foot frame in “G.I. Joe: Retaliation.” Me … not so much.

Given that Stallone and I are about the same height (I’m ignoring the fact that his physique is a bit more brawny than mine, although my Pillsbury Doughboy frame does give me a stout wrist), I was certain I could pull off the look. I immediately started checking out Panerai in cities I would visit on my travels, and fell in love with the PAM 188 chronograph.

Now, I had owned quite a few Omegas and Rolexes at that point, several in stainless and gold, but I really wasn’t prepared for the price of that Panerai in plain ol’ stainless steel. Fortunately, my wife recognized it would take a long while for my watch lust to overcome my Scottish frugality, so she bought the watch for me as a gift to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary.

[As an aside, the wise watch aficionado will try to discourage having a significant other purchase such an expensive item as a gift. We’re a fickle lot, but a gift from a loved one has an immediate status as “permanent” in one’s collection … oftentimes the only watch in the collection so designated.]

I’ll never forget the sheer size and weight of that watch (which, for the record, was 44mm). Everyone noticed it and I loved the attention. But I eventually tired of the weight and switched to an Italian rubber dive strap (dive straps, for those not familiar with them, have ribs or corrugation in the rubber to allow the watch to stay snug as one’s wetsuit compresses in deeper waters; the bulky strap perfectly complemented the PAM). I found I really liked the strap, both from an aesthetic standpoint (it got even more admiring glances) and comfort (the strap was much more comfortable than the wide stainless bracelet that came with the watch). Of course, it bothered me that the expensive bracelet was gathering dust in my jewelry box (did I mention my Scottish blood?), so I would occasionally – heck, often – put the bracelet back on. Then, I’d grin-and-bear the heft of that watch.

The PAM is almost never worn today (mostly on my wedding anniversary; my wife is too sweet to ask why not more often), but my tiring of it did not discourage me from exploring other large-case watches. I had discovered what is referred to on the watch fora as “boutique divers” – dive watches made by small companies who subcontract most of the parts – and sometimes the entire assembly – to manufacturers in China. They’re able to sell their wares at a much lower price than one would expect to pay for a mainstream Swiss brand such as Omega.

The 44mm Zixen Trimix GMT

The first to catch my eye was a Deep Blue Master 2000, which I saw in a section of International Watch magazine on dive watches. As a diver for 45 years now, I always have had a weak spot for dive watches, and that Deep Blue attracted me on two levels – it’s sheer size (46mm and almost 300 grams!), and it’s low price (at the time it was like 500 bucks).

It was the whole Panerai experience all over again – the admiring glances (actually, in retrospect, I realize they mostly were curious stares) and the massive heft. It wasn’t long before I found myself tiring of both the weight and the size. But it didn’t matter … I was hooked now on these behemoths and started scouring the horological landscape for others.

The 45mm Doxa SUB 5000T Sharkhunter

In quick succession, I discovered other watches which had “wrist presence” (the euphemistic expression employed by all watch lovers who prefer watches that bear more than a passing resemblance to a satellite dish): Doxa, Helson, Boschett, Zixen, Prometheus, to name just a few. It wasn’t long before I had a collection of almost three dozen watches. Worse, I had sold off most of my “tiny” watches to feed this new addiction, including an original Omega Broad Arrow (at 39mm) and a Seamaster 120 Plongeurs DeLuxe (the watch Jacques Mayol wore in 1981 when he set his 101m free-diving world record).

Yet one “Holy Grail” loomed on the horizon – the Rolex Sea Dweller Deep Sea. At 44mm, it was the largest watch Rolex made and had oodles of “wrist presence.” But it retailed for almost 11 grand, so some room had to be made in the collection – or, rather, some cash had to be accumulated in the bank account.

One after another, my watches disappeared to new owners. As each was purchased, packaged up and shipped off, I had to grudgingly acknowledge that it was not really worn very much, if at all. I just wasn’t ready to admit the reason why most were not worn often.

Finally, in a bit of serendipity, an acquaintance on WatchUSeek let me know he was planning to sell his Deep Sea and would sell it to me for a price that was simply too good to pass up. It took almost two weeks to reach me via USPS Registered Mail (the service that really puts the “snail” in “snail mail” – the Pony Express could traverse the entire western frontier in less time), and I was beside myself with impatience and anticipation. Finally, it arrived and I excitedly tore through the many layers of packaging to reveal this coveted watch, which fit perfectly when I fastened it around my wrist.

The 44mm Rolex Sea Dweller Deep Sea

Then a strange thing happened. I thought to myself, “This is one big freakin’ watch!” When I stole the occasional glance at it on my wrist, I found myself less admiring its looks and more eschewing its mass. It reached in hours the level of discontent achieved with the PAM 188 only after months of wear.

Finally, I casually mentioned to my wife that I thought the Deep Sea just might be too big for me. “Thank God!” she blurted out, “I didn’t want to say anything, but it just looks ridiculous.”

I was stunned. Not just because she had never expressed so direct an opinion about one of my previous timekeeping leviathans, but because I realized she was right. The Emperor, as the young child had revealed, was not wearing any clothes.

Exactly seven days after I received the highly anticipated Deep Sea, I placed it in the hands of its new owner … and quietly said a prayer of thanks for the mound of cash in front of me that represented the full recoupment of my investment (not, I must say, a common experience up to that point).

The clarity of that quick boom-to-bust experience with the Deep Sea led me to reassess my fascination with large watches and the appropriateness of them on my wrist. I pared my collection down to a few quality watches, all of which were between 40mm and 42mm. The centerpiece of that effort was a watch I had theretofore fastidiously abjured: the Rolex Submariner.

Ironically, I had previously owned three Submariners, beginning with the first in 1981. The last I sold about 10 years later because I felt it was “too large.”

But, in the grip of huge watch mania, I felt the Sub was downright dainty, and only the very manly Deep Sea would satisfy my craving. With the all-too-brief tenure of the Deep Sea, I determined to give the Submariner another look. And, as fortune would have it, a female friend (who has a thing for large men’s watches) had just purchased a new Submariner and, deciding it was just not to her liking, sold it to me at a great price.

The Rolex Submariner 116610LN appears to be a better “fit” than the Deep Sea on the right.

The 40mm Submariner (the new squarer-cased 116610LN with the ceramic bezel) brought into stark focus my self-deception on watch sizes. I realized that the central issue was not how I thought a watch looked on someone else’s wrist, but how it looked on mine. And as I pored through photographs of me wearing watches both large and small, I gained the perspective not available to me sitting at a desk or driving in my car … and saw just how appropriate those smaller watches looked on my wrist, and how out-of-place the larger ones appeared to be.

I still look at the big watches on the wrists of others, think they look good on them, and feel a familiar pang of longing. But I’ve learned my lesson. Regardless of whether large watches persist in popularity, I realize that I have found the size that works best for me. And, when I catch myself wondering if a 41mm watch really is “big” enough, I recall how huge my first 41mm SMP was.

To use a metaphor from another eternal size debate, it’s not the size of one’s boat, but the motion in the ocean.

In Memoriam: Planet Ocean cal. 2500

Posted by Rob on 9 May 2012
Posted in: Omega.

My first dive watch, received as a gift upon completing my dive certification in 1967, was an Omega Seamaster 300 on a rubber strap. For more than a decade, it was my almost constant companion … with the exception of a pocket watch fetish I developed in college and a brief dalliance with digital watches in the 1970s. Sadly, it was lost at sea in 1978, and I have never stopped missing it.

In the past few years, I have learned about vintage SM300s that could be had for a reasonable sum. Even more interesting were those Watchco versions. Watchco, an Australian company, at one time was an Omega service center and parts distributor. When the service center relationship ended, Watchco began assembling Seamaster 300s from factory-new parts, and inserting a vintage movement to create a working watch. While not cheap, it was a good way to get a modern version of a vintage watch, right down to a new dial with SuperLuminova.

For whatever reason, I have managed to resist the urge to snag one of these beauties. The price, which probably was about 10 times what my original cost new, certainly could be one reason. But the other is that we tend to romanticize things from our past, remembering the good things but forgetting the bad. As exciting as the possibility of owning a NOS (new old stock) version of my beloved SM300 might be, it was not perfect. The crystal had to be replaced several times, the watch was not the most accurate I have owned, and bracelets from that era were not nearly so refined as what we have today. So, from the standpoint of my personal collection, the SM300 remains where it is most valued – as a memory.

Not to worry, though. Omega extracted a generous portion of the “good” DNA from the SM300 and used it to create an entirely new, modern watch: the Planet Ocean. Introduced in 2005, the Planet Ocean (or PO to its legions of admirers) has become a favorite of Omega fans (for example, after its introduction, the Omega forum on WatchUSeek gradually metamorphosed from a predominantly pro-Speedmaster site to a pro-Planet Ocean site). And it is little wonder that such was the result.

The PO bore a striking resemblance to the original SM300, right down to the fonts used on the dial. But the PO was a decidedly different watch. It featured a COSC-certified calibre 2500 movement, which is the co-axial escapement version of the calibre 1120, itself based on the venerable ETA calibre 2892-A2. The domed crystal was scratch-resistant sapphire. The caseback was an elegant carving of the famous Omega hippocampus. And the bracelet was a beautifully finished reinterpretation of the original SM300 bracelet, with solid links and endlinks, along with the famous Seamaster Professional fold-over clasp.

I was an early adopter of the Seamaster Pro when it was introduced as the watch of James Bond in the 1990s. It was an excellent watch for use on dives, not the least because of that superb clasp. It featured a double push-button deployant and a foldout divesuit extension that allowed the watch to fit comfortably over a 5mm wetsuit. For the PO, the bracelet was tapered slightly so that the clasp was 2mm narrower than on the Seamaster Pro, but the effect of this taper was to make the bracelet more gracefully conform to the contours of the PO case, and to make the clasp much more comfortable on the wrist.

Omega created several versions of the PO. It was available in either a 42mm or 45.5mm diameter. It was available with either white numbering on the dial, or orange. And there also was an orange bezel as an alternative to the traditional black. But the model that most clearly evoked the watch on which it was based – the Seamaster 300 – was the 42mm version with white numbering and a black bezel, Omega’s ref. 2201.50.

The PO was not a thin watch, however. It carried a 600m water-resistance rating, as compared to 300m on both the Seamaster Pro and the Rolex Submariner. The Seamaster Pro was only 12.7mm thick, whilst the PO gained to 14.5mm. The profile still was enough to allow the PO to fit beneath a dress shirt, so that it could make the transition from divesuit to business suit.

Sadly, the Planet Ocean was modified by Omega to allow it to incorporate a new in-house movement, the calibre 8500, and was reintroduced at Baselworld 2011. But the proportions were changed with this update, most especially with a thicker case. To accommodate the thicker cal. 8500 movement and an exhibition caseback, the case thickness increased to 16.3mm. This was almost 30% thicker than the case of the Seamaster Pro. The bezel teeth were modified to be a greater percentage of the bezel sides. And the bezel insert was changed to a matte black ceramic, which looked more gray than black. Whatever its positives, the new PO looked considerably less like its Seamaster 300 forebear.

Then, earlier this spring, Omega announced the discontinuation of the original Planet Ocean models with the cal. 2500, ending forever the production of this beloved dive watch.

Hence this retrospective, to commemorate a superlative dive watch that was itself a paean to another famous dive watch. Certainly, the PO continues as the ceramic bezel, cal. 8500 version. But many fans of the Planet Ocean, myself included, struggle to accept this newer incarnation. For us, the Planet Ocean will always be the cal. 2500 model.