Tuesday, December 23, 2025

A watchmaker is nothing more than a fancy blacksmith

 As some have noticed, recently we have released three short videos on YouTube. Basically, we are talking about things that are relevant to you and to us. The watch business is a two-way street, and there is always a way to make dealings more efficient, more pleasurable, and more fun.


We know why you buy watches: because you love them. And if we can assist you in some way—whether it is buying, selling, or repairing—we are here to help and serve.

We tried to highlight three topics. First, contrary to all the hype, the watch market is not dead. On the contrary—it is alive and kicking. Here is just one detail that illustrates the point: in the past nine working days, we have only bought two watches! Yes, most of you are busy wrapping up the year, but when it comes to acquiring stock, these are the slowest weeks we have had in years—if ever. https://youtu.be/Phm01t7N3Ww?

The second video is about second-hand dealing. A transactional agreement were both parties have an obligation to act ethically, honestly, and reputably. If for no other reason than the most obvious one: the Sydney market is tiny. And yes, honesty does pay off. The four tips on how to maximize your profit when selling a watch are often overlooked, but they can make a huge difference—to you, the seller. I strongly suggest you watch it. https://youtu.be/xNbdL7BO26g?

The third video is about accuracy—hands down, the most controversial aspect of horology. Understanding and accepting what is practically possible (for a mechanical watch) is the very first step on a journey called appreciation and enjoyment of watch collecting. Unfortunately for many, the journey is much bumpier: excitement with a new watch, high expectations, then bitter disappointment when accuracy turns out to be “low”. https://youtu.be/KSL9Bap0Hok?

I am sure you will find the video educational and perhaps even somewhat entertaining.

Finally, once again, on behalf of my small team, I wish you all the very best and loads of Season’s greetings. Thank you for your subscription to our mailing list and for your business, and we look forward to serving you in the years to come.                         

This is just crazy

 

Earlier this week, a customer brought in a dead Seiko Prospex chronograph. He bought it from another retailer 18 months ago—not from us. The problem was obvious: a broken stem and winding crown.

I suggested he return the watch to the original retailer, but he preferred that we do the repair. Fine by us.

We placed an order for the replacement parts on the 10th. On the 11th, Seiko shipped them. Today, they arrived in the mail.

Absolutely crazy—in the best possible way. And the cost? Less than $40 including postage. Two stems, a steel waterproof crown, and an extra crown seal.
(Andrew wasn’t sure whether the crown came with a seal, so he ordered one just in case. It turns out the crown already had one installed—still, amazing that Seiko supplies a spare part for a spare part!)
We haven’t completed the repair yet, but it’s already clear: returning this Prospex to full working order will be straightforward. Almost trivial.

The final outcome is predictable: one happy customer, a few dollars in profit, and an unbelievably quick turnaround. Another Seiko saved and ready for years of service.

You might be blown away by Seiko’s promptness, their willingness to supply parts, and their commitment to keeping the dream alive.

But you shouldn’t be.

Seiko is simply doing the most basic, most economically logical, and most customer-oriented thing a reputable watch manufacturer should do.

This is how the industry worked since the first branded watch rolled off the bench 120 years ago. Independent watch repairers were always the link between manufacturer and owner—supporting both sides, offering skill, saving time, saving money.

So why in the world can we no longer obtain parts for Rolex, Omega, JLC, Breitling—practically any modern Swiss brand?

Ask the Swiss brands, and they’ll tell you that we—Australian independent watchmakers—are too old, too dumb, and too unwilling to invest. Useless. Unnecessary. And if that insult isn’t enough, they’ll claim that by restricting access to parts, they’re protecting you from us—from our supposed incompetence and inability to serve you properly.

Of course, you know this is nonsense.

While they blame us and deny us parts, they continue ripping you off with outrageous charges, unnecessary repairs, and months-long wait times. It’s monopolistic abuse of power—and in any country that values consumer protection, it should be illegal.

Arrogant bastards.

I won’t beat around the bush: the day Seiko closes our spare parts account will be the last day of my watchmaking career. Not because Seiko repairs keep us financially afloat, but because everyone else has beaten us down, ridiculed us, and stripped our dignity to the point where losing Seiko would simply be the end of the road.

I only hope that what we offer Seiko continues to be seen as valuable. That our relationship continues and grows. That Seiko becomes an even stronger player in the Australian market, and that you keep enjoying fine Japanese watchmaking—proudly wearing a Seiko.

One thing is certain, proven over the past decade: we are not dumb, too old, or unwilling to invest. On the contrary—we are young, extremely smart, and fully capable of making anything from a single tiny watch part to complex space-grade devices.

And you know this. And that’s what matters.

Thank you, Seiko—and a very Happy and Merry New Year.                         

Clueless flippers

 

If you are even casually interested in YouTube watch channels, you must have noticed an avalanche of videos warning you that “watch collecting is dead,” “the market has collapsed,” and that you “must sell now before it’s too late.”
The doom and gloom. The horological apocalypse of unimaginable magnitude.

These creators and “watch gurus” are the same fools who, only a year or two ago, were telling you that investing in watches was a smart way to make money — and have fun.

The truth is simple: all those videos come from small-time flippers on limited budgets, whose main activity is YouTubing and e-begging. They feed on gossip and stir up controversy. They are in the game for clicks.

As a long-time subscriber to my daily newsletters, you have a perfect opportunity to see what stock is available, the volumes, prices, trends, what’s popular — and what’s not.

We operate in the entry- to mid-price level, with an average sale of pre-owned Swiss watches at around $6,500. So the facts below reflect that segment. However, this is the price band with the most market activity, and the one of greatest interest to novice and intermediate collectors and enthusiasts. As such, it represents overall trends accurately.

Fact 1
Good quality stock, priced attractively, is almost impossible to find. There is a strong demand for extra-fine, pre-loved Omega, Breitling, Cartier, Rolex and numerous other brands. This demand is constant and unaffected by the economy, interest rates, inflation, or disposable income.
A four-bedroom house on a large block in a leafy suburb with an ocean view will always find a buyer. And so will a mint 1990s Omega Moonwatch.

Fact 2
We see no slowdown in the watch trade. Yes, the COVID years were significantly busier, but COVID was a once-in-a-lifetime anomaly.
We buy and sell multiple watches every day. Most go to newsletter subscribers, but many are sold in our shop, through our website, or via personal recommendation. Business as usual.

Fact 3
We have not seen a major collection liquidation in years. The last time we bought 25 watches in one go, from a single seller, was well before COVID. Collectors are not selling en masse. If we can buy five pieces at once, we consider that a major volume deal.

Fact 4
Prices of new watches are going up — and they will continue to go up.
Manufacturing costs, labour costs, energy costs, and the cost of modern machinery in Europe are constantly rising. The Swiss are not newcomers to horology; they’ve been playing the luxury watch game for two centuries. They know when to increase production and when to slow down. They’ve been through every financial crisis and are playing a long game.
A Swiss industrialist is cashed-up, old-money, debt-free, and running a manufacturing facility that has specialised in a particular field for generations. The economics of watchmaking will not change even if you wake up tomorrow to news that Russia has resumed supplying cheap oil and gas to Europe on a scale never seen before. It won’t happen — so don’t hold your breath. Rolex, Patek, Cartier, Omega and Breitling are not going out of business.
Consequently, prices of fine pre-owned stock will continue to rise.

Don’t waste your time on clueless YouTube fools. But if you’re still puzzled by the trends, ask yourself a simple question: Am I buying a watch next year or not?
I bet you will.                         

Michel Cohen

 

If you’re looking for an hour and a half of documentary drama loaded with twists and turns, here’s a gem that will keep you glued: French art dealer Michel Cohen built trust with galleries before vanishing with $50 million in stolen artwork, leaving dealers searching for answers decades later.

Nothing beats the real-life story of a crook. You’ll love it. But beyond the pure entertainment value, there’s a deeper conundrum to be unravelled: when, and under what circumstances, does an honest person turn into a criminal? I’m not going to spoil your enjoyment, but here’s a clue: it often starts with good intentions—and a failure to honour a deal.

In business, a handshake signifies trust, respect, agreement and professionalism. A handshake is the seal on the deal, the signature on the contract—the rock-solid, unshakeable commitment that money and goods will be exchanged. But a seal can come in many forms: raising a hand at an auction, a nod, or a simple “yes” in reply to an email.

Watch dealing is no different from art dealing—or any dealing, for that matter. It is built on trust, respect, and iron-clad commitment. Failing to proceed after a deal is done and sealed is simply disrespectful and damaging to both parties. I’m not going to beat around the bush: those who fail to honour a commitment are not just time-wasters. They are a cancer to our business, and they are removed from our books as customers and from our mailing list as subscribers instantly. No second chances. Ever.

The world is full of honest people—and we are here to serve them.

Michael Cohen doco: https://youtu.be/5RJVbBOb7BQ?

She won't be right

 

Stewart Brand is one of those individuals who always thinks differently. Trying to encapsulate his opus would be futile, but to get just a taste of Brand, the starting point has to be his monumental work, The Whole Earth Catalog—a catalog, an assortment of things that serve as useful "tools": books, maps, garden implements, specialized clothing, carpenters' and masons' tools, forestry gear, tents, welding equipment, professional journals, early synthesizers, and personal computers. The catalog also described where these things could be located or purchased. Its publication coincided with the great wave of social and cultural experimentation in the 1970s, the convention-breaking, and the "do it yourself" attitude associated with the "counterculture." It’s the kind of book Noah might have written while awaiting the flood.

Brand is 86 but continues to write vigorously. His new, soon-to-be-released book is already being labelled a 'future classic.' Titled Maintenance of Everything, it is the first in-depth exploration of maintenance—and a powerful argument for its civilizational importance.

"Maintenance is what keeps everything going. It’s what keeps life going. Yet it’s also easy to shirk or defer—until the thing breaks, the system falters, and everything stops. The apparent paradox is profound: Maintenance is absolutely necessary, and maintenance is optional."

As publisher explains, the book begins with "a dramatic contest of maintenance styles under life-critical conditions: the Golden Globe around-the-world solo sailboat race of 1968. It goes on to explore the insights that can be gleaned from vehicle maintenance, from the zeal of motorcycle maintainers to the maintenance philosophies that fought for dominance in the auto industry, to the state of electric vehicle manufacturing today. There are absorbing detours into the evolution of precision in manufacturing, the enduring importance of manuals, sustainment in the military, and the never-ending battle against corrosion."

Maintenance of Everything is a sophisticated, provocative call to expand what we mean by "maintenance"—not just the tiresome preventative tasks but the whole grand process of keeping a thing going. It invites us to understand not only the profound impact maintenance has on our daily lives but also why taking responsibility for maintaining something—whether a motorcycle, a monument, or our very planet—can be a radical act.

In today’s digital world, buying a paperback may sound retrograde, even archaically trivial. Yet it’s possible that our grandchildren will one day need to restart civilization—and in that moment, they will be in even greater need of thinkers like Brand. The future of humanity is both terrifying and exhilarating!                         

Something still does

 

The latest incarnation of the Moonwatch is the Co-Axial escapement calibre 3861 — essentially, the old 1861 with a new heart.
Obviously, the “Co-Axialization” across Omega’s entire range of movements has not spared the last true straight-lever legend.

Without exception, every watchmaker worth their reputation would argue that the Co-Axial escapement is hardly a step forward in Omega’s evolution — and certainly not a seismic, earth-shaking event in global horology. While it does offer some negligible benefits in terms of timekeeping, the selling point has always been framed around claims of longer service intervals due to reduced wear and tear and less reliance on lubrication.

Yet the escapement is just one of many building blocks inside a watch, and improving a single link in the chain does not necessarily make the whole chain stronger.
Over the past couple of years, we have worked on a number of new 3861 Moonwatches. Obviously, I am speaking from our own limited experience, based on a very small sample, but a pattern is emerging: there appears to be an issue with lubrication at the centre wheel.
The steel pivot running inside the bronze bushing tends to seize up. Whether this is due to inadequate lubricant, improper application, or incorrect quantity — it’s hard to say. But something is definitely off. A two- or three-year-old watch should not be developing power loss issues so prematurely. It would be really helpful if Omega commented, but I suspect a public statement is highly unlikely.

Again, I am not pointing fingers — merely reporting what we have observed.

However, there is another issue with the latest batches of Moonwatches that bothers me greatly: the decoration.
The pattern on the mainplate is known as Geneva stripes. This traditional technique is now applied with modern CNC machinery, but extreme care must be taken not to alter the tool’s speed or angle of movement across the surface, as this results in an uneven and irregular finish.

The key to Geneva striping is uniformity — and what we see, even on watches with display casebacks, is anything but refined, regular, or precise.

Not only do the stripes vary significantly from watch to watch, but even within a single movement. The balance cock and bridges often look as though they were produced with a great deal of inconsistency.

The pictures say it all.

Here are three photos of the 3861 movement. You can see that the balance cock, 4th wheel bridge, and main bridge stripes are finished very differently.
And here is another lot, from a different watch.
I am trying to remain calm, professional, and even as kind as possible — but this is Seagull-level decoration.
It would be unacceptable on a $3,000 watch, let alone on a $15,000 flagship model. Many makers have mastered CNC Geneva striping to absolute perfection — Grand Seiko and Patek Philippe, for example. Even a lesser Swiss-made movement like the Soprod, decorated in Switzerland for our Mark I and Mark II watches, offers far greater consistency and visual pleasure.
The truth is, the Speedmaster Professional 321 and 861 movements were never intended as breathtaking examples of horological decoration. These were hardworking, robust, and reliable chronographs — easy to service and built to last for decades, running ten, twenty, even thirty years without attention.
Unlike those legendary pieces, the latest Moonwatch lives in a different space — marketed and sold to a different kind of collector, at a price only they could justify.

If you’re in doubt — whether to invest in a brand-new piece or a vintage Speedmaster from the ’70s or ’80s — my suggestion is to take your time. I always say: nothing beats a brand-new watch.
But today, I feel — something still does.
There is no doubt that most readers will struggle to see the difference in finishes and perhaps ask, “What’s really wrong here?” The best way to answer that question is to compare Omega’s decoration with that of A. Lange & Söhne. The benchmark was set a long time ago — if it doesn’t look like a Lange, then there’s plenty of room for improvement.


Rolex Explorer Restoration, Part 2.

 

A couple of weeks ago, we left you with images of a completely rusted-out Rolex Explorer in pieces. At first glance, it looked like a hopeless case but as any restorer knows, the real story is in the details.

The process begins with carefully removing every component from the main plate. Rust, stubborn and unforgiving, is painstakingly scraped away by hand with a soft wooden stick. Each crevice is coaxed clean, then the plate is soaked in oil, scrubbed again by hand, and finally given a gentle ultrasonic bath- a sort of spa day for this weary timepiece.

Next comes the delicate task of removing all broken and corroded steel screws. The main plate itself is brass, plated with rhodium to give it that signature “white” sheen, and here lies the trick: steel parts are best dissolved rather than forced out. A soak in vinegar for two to three days works like magic, leaving the brass unharmed while the rusted steel vanishes.

Before this acidic bath, of course, every jewel and steel pin is carefully removed, tucked away to return later. The result? A main plate reborn, etched clean, jewels reinstalled, and ready for the next chapter.
And now begins the real adventure: sourcing original vintage Rolex parts. Some will arrive as pristine new-old-stock treasures, others salvaged from donor watches -each piece a tiny victory. With 50 to 60 parts required, patience is key. Delays are inevitable, and the occasional wrong part is almost a rite of passage.

But that’s all part of the journey. Restoration is never a sprint, it’s a conversation with time itself.

Yet all this epic restoration could be a piece of cake if Rolex would simply release spare parts to independent watchmakers. There are millions of those spares sitting neatly stacked in Swiss bunkers. And if not, all those parts could easily be re-made, distributed, and supplied. But Rolex won’t budge.

The hypocrisy and corporate greed of Swiss mega-brands is just pathetic. Not just in the corporate sense, but in their indecency, blaming watchmakers for a “lack of skills.” Ask Rolex, “Why won’t you supply spares to watchmakers?” and the answer is always the same: Only Rolex Service Centre can service a Rolex watch to Rolex standards.

But that’s a lie. As I type this, our team of machinists is making superbly complex, ultra-tight-tolerance parts for the space and medical industries - fields with standards far stricter than anything in horology. Day after day, batch after batch, we produce those parts and supply them with full metrological reports as proof they meet every engineering and performance specification. Replacing a worn-out part in a watch isn’t rocket science; it’s just a job for a technician.

I asked AI to generate a picture of an old watchmaker screaming “Release the parts!”
And the image it produced - an old man working in a dim, primitive workshop, fixing outdated watches — is exactly the picture Rolex wants you to have in your mind. “Don’t take your watch to those old, small, untrained, unsightly, non-corporate watchmakers,” they say. “They’ll cause more damage, they’ll fit fake parts, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

How about this, Rolex: just release the parts. We’ll take care of our customers to the standards they expect and demand, at a price they’re happy to pay, with turnaround times in weeks, not months.

Release the parts - and shut up.

(To be continued.)

Is the latest Alpinist worth $1,550?

 

There is no doubt that the freshly released teal, green, and black Alpinists are not just eye-catching watches but also well-made, robust pieces. The finish is impeccable. If there ever was a Japanese-made, Rolex-looking case- this is it. Smooth, low-profile steel bezel and sapphire crystal with cyclops – just perfect.

The Oyster-style stainless steel bracelet with deployant clasp looks every bit Swiss in design and execution.

The same goes for the dial and hands: the depth and contrast is to the highest standard of horology.
Yes, it’s mass-produced, but mass-produced in Japan, using the latest high-tech machinery and techniques.

The new Alpinist is fitted with the 6R55 movement. It has a 3-day power reserve and is also made in Japan.
The straight-line decoration and gold-plated rotor won’t blow away a serious watch collector, but that’s expected. I was far more interested in the actual timekeeping: from six pieces tested, the “worst” performer ran at +13 seconds per day, and the best at +2 seconds — with an impressively healthy amplitude of 288 degrees. Considering Seiko’s specs for the 6R55 are -15/+25 seconds per day, these results were far better than expected. A small curiosity: the exact same calibre is used in the latest King Seiko line.
The green dial model comes on a brown strap, while the other two are on bracelet.

The only word of caution concerns the winding crown: it’s small and rather delicate for a 200 m water-resistant watch. If you have large fingers, be very careful when screwing it down — the alignment is precise, and an impatient user will sooner or later cross-thread it. Again, if you have a big wrist and big fingers, the Alpinist may not be the best choice for you — especially if patience isn’t your strong suit.

Now, back to the original question: is the new Alpinist worth $1,550? Absolutely yes.

Should you pay full retail? Absolutely not.

There’s an unspoken rule that newly released watches shouldn’t be discounted — and I’m all for it. However, as a subscriber to this fine newsletter, you are a special customer who deserves a special price.

Of course, if you wish to pay full retail, you’re more than welcome to place your order now. But if you’d prefer to chat discreetly about it, simply hit “reply” to this email and I’ll see what I can do for you.

All three models are in stock and ready for immediate delivery.
Seiko Prospex Alpinist Automatic Green/Leather SPB507J

39.5mm case size. Stainless steel case and brown leather strap. Forest green dial. Sapphire crystal. Date and compass functions. Automatic movement - calibre 6R55. 72 hours power reserve. Water resistance 200 metres. 

Boutique price: $1,400
Seiko Prospex Alpinist Automatic Teal/Steel SPB503J

39.5mm case size. Stainless steel case and bracelet. Blue dial. Sapphire crystal. Date and compass functions. Automatic movement - calibre 6R55. 72 hours power reserve. Water resistance 200 metres. 

Boutique price: $1,550
Seiko Prospex Alpinist Automatic Black/Steel SPB505J

39.5mm case size. Stainless steel case and bracelet. Black dial. Sapphire crystal. Date and compass functions. Automatic movement - calibre 6R55. 72 hours power reserve. Water resistance 200 metres. 

Boutique price: $1,550