Collecting?

 

"Hi Nick, loving the emails you send out. I know you're a busy man, but any chance you can tell us subscribers about your personal watch collection—for example, how many you have? Maybe show some rare ones or ones that have an interesting story behind them ? Cheers, Wade Leaney"

Hi Wade, Appreciate the question. Let's start with the obvious: watch dealers are pathetic collectors. So are watchmakers. The dealers’ collection consists of unwanted and unsold stock; the watchmakers: of broken, beyond-repair, incomplete and obscure pieces, rarely of any value. Being close to watches and dealing with them daily does not make one a collector. Quite the opposite. Collecting is a meaningful and laser-focused effort which requires time, money, and patience; something that should be enjoyed outside business hours. (I am typing this reply at 6:05 in the morning—why am I not 'collecting'?). Great collections are built by passionate, sophisticated, and wealthy people who have plenty of time to chase that Holy Grail piece to complete their horological jigsaw puzzle. I remember a visit to a private watch and clock museum in Switzerland, where I had the privilege of meeting with a third or fourth-generation collector, who is still building and expanding his family’s collection. A true multi-generational project. The stories about acquisitions, bidding wars, travels and relationships required to obtain those unique pieces were even more fascinating than the watches themselves. Still vividly remembered: a story of a Breguet pocket watch, which started life as a pair. The first was bought by his grandfather, the second one two generations later, reunited at a great cost—“We ended up taking a massive bridging loan, disposing of some pieces in order to complete the transaction”.  Blood, sweat and sacrifices. There are many thousands of passionate collectors out there who have amassed large collections, on almost any horological subject you can think of.  And my personal reward comes from the fact that, in a few cases, I was the one who found and provided that very special piece they were longing for. So, in a way, there is a little of “me” in their life collection, which is kind of cool. At the end of the day, we all have our personal reasons to buy, collect, horde, pile up and amass. My reason is the fear of being judged as stupid. There is no doubt that shortly after I'm gone, someone will open my small deposit box, and curiously and patiently examine its contents. What they find in that box is going to be my final message to the world. Are they going to be amazed to discover two or three sophisticated pieces of real horological value and importance, or will they just find a box full of junk? Will they proclaim, “Wow, what a great find!” or “I can’t believe he sold tens of thousands of watches, but foolishly failed to preserve and pass on a single piece of any beauty, merit or importance.” I am not at all fearful of dying anonymously; I am fearful of dying and then forever being remembered as a fool who wasted his time and missed his opportunity to be someone worth remembering. Am I happy with my current collection? Quite frankly, yes. Of course, I've missed countless opportunities, but I’ve still managed to hide away a piece or two worth preserving and guarding for the next generation. In particular, a certain New Zealand Railway pocket watch, as well as an important ships chronometer by a prominent maker. Both pieces should be held onto, and eventually donated to a museum, not sold. If interested, the story is here: http://nickhacko.blogspot.com/2019/07/sometimes-best-deals-are-those-that.html When it comes to wristwatches, it’s the beauty of the mechanism and the story behind the model that matters. Everything else—condition included—is less relevant. Funnily enough, I am far more tolerant toward imperfections in my own pieces than those offered for sale. In other words, most of my vintage watches are probably a 6/10, but they have plenty of character and stories to tell. Are we running out of stock worth collecting? Not really. Only a couple of weeks ago, there was a spectacular Zenith triple calendar moon on offer here, which was quickly snatched by a collector. I was even able to source one more, identical, for another collector which is rather unusual. I would gladly have kept either—or both—to add to my collection. Those El Primeros are simply superb pieces, which easily outshine any $100K Patek. Beyond the obvious horological value and beauty, there is one important fact that makes them special: for the past 30 years, despite all new releases, and millions invested in marketing, Zenith failed to make a better El Primero than the original one. And they probably never will. If I may—and this is hardly a secret to most subscribers—I have a weak spot for Seiko railway pocket watches. The plan is, to eventually, have one from every manufacturing year, from the 1930s to today. On my last count, there were more than 200 in the collection, a pile in need of classification, labelling, overhaul, and proper storage. I keep a “cheat sheet” on the wall, to remind myself that some years are still missing. 1949-51 were “dry years”, as well as 1971. Yet there is an abundance of stock from the 1950s and 60s. The first quartz model 38RW was only produced for 2 years (1978-1980) and it is an extremely hard one to find. Back in 1978, it sold for over $600 and cost more than a brand-new Rolex Submariner 5513! I am a proud owner of one, which is sealed in a plastic bag prominently marked “DO NOT SELL THIS ONE”. So, my Seiko railway pocket watches are still a work in progress. Again, if I drop dead tomorrow, they should be passed on to a new guardian, rather than a high bidder. Whether orderly, messy, pedantic, sophisticated, obnoxious, public, private, over the top or shy and modest, our watch collection is nothing more or less than our own reflection in a mirror of time.  Happy collecting, Nick Hacko

Watches currently offered for sale can be found here:  http://clockmaker.com.au/wfs1.html

The proper way

 

Horology is the study of mechanical watches. And today, you will learn how to answer the most important horological question: what makes a watch horologically important in a traditional, true-watchmaking sense?  When you figure this out, you will be able to 'judge' every mechanical watch the same way a traditional master watchmaker like Breguet would. You would simply see the watch through Breguet's eyes. The concept is simple, yet fascinating: the more complex the watch is, the more valuable it should be. A 'time only' watch is the starting point. A watch with a calendar is more complex, therefore more valuable. If a watch can measure lapsed time (like a stop watch) then such a timepiece is even more valuable. The more 'complications', the better. Each additional feature requires more complex engineering, more parts working together and a reduction in size. An automatic stop watch displaying day, date and month, as well as a 24 hour format is a very complex piece of machinery. Indeed, the most famous watchmakers of all time like Louis Breguet or Alfred Lange, have spent their entire lives squeezing more parts into a ever smaller cases. For them, complexity was the most important matter. Here is a practical example:

Can you tell which one of the two watches is more horologically important? Which one would Breguet buy? In a true horological sense, watchmaking is not about branding, colour scheme, size or even water resistance. Unfortunately, rightly or wrongly, our perception of what should be valued is a result of relentless marketing by megabrands, shaped by online influencers.  As of this moment - and forever on- when handed a watch, the first thing you should do is assess the watch for what it does. Ignore everything else.  Triple calendar chronograph. Moon phase chronograph. Dual time alarm. Or, just a humble 'time only' piece. Because this is what it is.  Only after that, you can move forward: to assess the quality of workmanship and design. Then, the maker and brand name. Always in that order.

The best $13 I've ever spent!

 

This is super cool - I've won an auction! A 1970s Seiko pocket watch write-off for just $13. Judging by the photos, most likely, the poor thing went through a washing machine. Externally, a disaster. Internally - just a blob of rusty mud. So why am I so excited? Because I have in stock every single part for this particular Seiko calibre, and like the Ship of Theseus, I can already see this railway pocket watch looking like new, and keeping perfect time. The whole restoration project shot in 4K would generate hundreds of thousands of views and steady advertising income for years to come. There is only one problem: I don't really have time to do it right now...  By the way, and if you are not familiar with the concept: the Ship of Theseus is a thought experiment that raises the question of whether an object that has had all of its components replaced over time remains fundamentally the same object. This concept is one of the oldest in Western philosophy, having been discussed by Heraclitus and Plato 2500 years ago. Since then, philosophers have been banging their heads to solve this paradox, which in a way remains unresolved to this day. Yet in my mind, the paradox could be easily solved in a very elegant way, by introducing the 'third party' with vested interests. Suppose that the watch was insured for a sum of let's say $1000. Then ruined by a careless owner, then restored by a skilful watchmaker who replaced every single part at the total cost of $1,000. The owner makes a claim to their insurance company who happily pays the watchmaker. Here is the punch line: while both the watch owner and watchmaker could agree that the newly 'recreated watch' may not be the original watch, such a dilemma would not burden the insurer. The insurer doesn't really care; because it is not his job to care about thought experiments, but material evidence. In other words, the paradox exists only if we want it to exist. And even then, it only exists in our minds.

Dad has turned 82, and today is his last day of trading

Actually, he was supposed to retire on January 1, but he just couldn’t help himself. Breaking away from a daily routine that has lasted for over 60 years is not something that can be done overnight. Our small family workshop is in the same location that it was in 1951 when the first generation Hacko commenced the watchmaking business. Dad will retire on a monthly pension of 300 Euros. Which is plenty for a man who barely needs anything. Being the oldest son, it is now my duty to provide for mum and dad. In return, I am also expected to take over the family shop and continue the trade - closing the shop down or renting it out would be disgrace and an insult to our family name. This is going to be quite the challenge, considering that the shop is located 18,000 km away from Sydney. The transition itself is exactly as expected: painful. I had to call mum last night with the firm demand that dad hands over the keys immediately, without further delay. My younger brother has already organised an electrician, plumber and painter; so the stock has to be put in storage, and bench tools taken home. At 82, dementia is slowly creeping in. He has no hobbies; he does not have a pet. While he is still fine behind the work bench, he struggles with basic stuff: unsure of the day of the week, or who is related to whom. He is stubbornly unwilling to do even basic bookkeeping or keep a social distance, or wear a mask. A few weeks ago, on the way to work, he fell off his pushbike and bruised himself badly, yet failed to tell mum about the accident. "So I wouldn't be even allowed to stop by the new shop? And who is going to do all the repairs?" - he asks over and over again. Right now, I have no answers to his questions. What has to be done, has to be done, and done sooner rather than later. Time waits for no one.  [to be continued...]

Reading time - the Breitling Bezel (part 2)

Great Scott! How many functions are there? Today we will 'go back' into the many functions of the Breitling bezel (really any pilot watch bezel) and how to read them. In the last part we discussed simple multiplications and divisions. In this part, we will explain some conversions (as most pilot bezels default in miles) from miles to kilometres and vice versa. First off, let's just reiterate that we are only using the outermost 2 scales on the watch. The outer sliding track printed on the bezel, and the inner fixed track printed on the outer circumference of the dial. The scales are logarithmic in spacing, and printed with very small text, so most of these calculations are a fairly close approximation. Let's also not forgot the decimal dilemma. 10 on the outer scale is also 0.1, 1, 100, 1000, etc, much the same as for the other numbers on the scales. We use the same calculation on the bezel to convert miles to kilometres, as we do for miles per hour to kilometres per hour (and vice versa, to go from kilometres to miles etc.). For example, let's say we want to find out exactly how fast Marty McFly and Doc got that steam locomotive to travel, when they said 88 miles per hour. First, 1 kilometre is approximately 0.621 miles. So we align 62.1 on the outer scale, with the 10 (in red) on the fixed scale. Then on the outer scale, find 88. The inner track will display the kilometres conversion (either kilometres, or kilometres per hour) which for us says about 14.15. This obviously isn't the speed as that would have been very easy to reach, even for a steam locomotive. So we move the decimal place to find approximately 142 kilometres per hour (flat out on straight track, most steam locomotives back then topped out at 40 to 50 miles per hour). The exact answer is 141.6 kilometres. In much the same way, if you have kilometres you need converted to miles, you do the reverse, without touching the bezel. To find out how many miles it is across Australia, you look for 3860 (kilometres across Australia) on the inner track, to read your miles off the outer track. Your scale doesn't have 3860? You're only partially correct. It does have 38.6 which is the same number as far as our logarithmic scales are concerned. Looking now to 38.6 on the fixed inner track, we read off the outer bezel a hair under 24 (or 2400). The correct answer being closer to 2398.5. Not too bad an approximation when you compare the width of Australia with the circumference of your Breitling. In this way, once you align 62.1 with the red 10 a shown above and below, all conversions for all numbers from 0 to infinity can be calculated at a glance. We will return again with more Breitling Bezel tutorials as there are still many more uses for it. Andrew

Reading Time - the Breitling Bezel

Here it is: The long awaited Breitling 'how to' component of our reading time newsletter articles (or at least part one for Breitling). How to use a Breitling bezel, or any other flight type bezel for that matter: We should first start out by defining the points on the bezel and what they mean, so as to ease our understanding of the calculations and how to make them. Firstly, the bezel is technically called a slide rule. Pilots have used them for decades to calculate anything from simple multiplications, to how far to turn the nose of their plane into a crosswind so as not to be pushed off course. Below we can see an actual slide rule (or in this very complicated case, 'flight computer') used in the training of pilots, which was kindly donated to us by a loyal supporter. This is a standard tool across the aviation industry and when Willy Breitling first released his Navitimer in 1952 at the behest of the US Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, he designed the slide rule to be as similar as possible to the below training tool. This instantly made the watch familiar to the AOPA members and is one of the main reasons the Navitimer is the go-to for pilots worldwide. The slide rule is made up of two rules or tracks, the fixed (inner) and the sliding (outer). The fixed rule or track is on the actual dial, and like the name suggests, does not move. The sliding rule or track is on the bezel itself and is what you rotate to make the calculations. Most pilot watches will also have a tachymeter and then a minute track for the running time, printed inside the two slide rule tracks. When making the calculations below, the only numbers considered are the ones on the two outermost tracks.

Another thing we must understand is that the decimal point is not found on a slide rule. For example the 16 on the outer bezel also represents 0.0016, 0.016, 0.16, 1.6, 160, 1600, 16000 etc. A little bit of common sense is needed here, and will become apparent in the explanations below. The slide rule is also not a linear scale but a logarithmic one. This just means the physical distance on the scale between similar intervals is different, for example the distance between 10 and 20 on the outer ring is much further than between 20 and 30. The best thing to do for practice is make different calculations with your watch and check them with a calculator to gain confidence. First off, let’s start with everybody's favourite calculation: Division. This calculation is fairly easy actually. Let’s say we want to divide 75 by 12. Maybe it's a shared Christmas gift for someone (a little late I know but a good example). Line up 75 on the sliding outer track with 12 on the fixed inner track. The 10 (in red) on the fixed inner track will point to the answer which is 62.5. Now the decimal place dilemma comes into play. We know that 62.5 is much too large an answer for our question. So we mentally slide the decimal place across to either 6.25, or further to 0.625. It’s easy to see that 0.625 is way too small to be the answer, so we stick with 6.25 or $6.25 per person. Percentages? Even easier. Say we want to find 19.8% of 57,500 (keeping in mind a complex calculation like this is difficult to find the exact number as there just isn't enough room on the bezel). We line up 57.5 on the outer sliding bezel with 10 (in red) on the inner fixed track. We then look for 19.8 on the fixed inner track and the answer on the bezel reads a tiny bit under 11.4 which with decimal place adjustment is just under $11,400. A short trip to your iPhone calculator confirms the answer as 11,385. Without moving the bezel, you can see any percentage of 55,700 or 557 or 0.557. You just read from a different number on the inner track to its corresponding number on the outer track, and keep the decimal place dilemma in mind.  Second cab off the rank: Multiplication. Remember your 17 times tables? Absolutely not. But now you've not only got a Breitling Navitimer, you know how to use it. Slide your bezel so that 17 on the outer track is lined up with 10 (in red) on the fixed inner track. Now the result for any fixed number (inner track) multiplied by 17, is displayed on the outer track. For example, 17 x 25 = 42.5. But we know that number is much too small to be the correct answer, so we move the decimal point over to either 425 or 4,250 or 42,500. A simple calculation like 20 x 25 = 500 makes it easy to confirm the answer is indeed 425. For the case where the numbers do not line up exactly, either an approximation can be made, or you can just mentally work around it. For example 17 x 26 = looks like maybe 44.1 or 44.2 (441 or 442) by reading off the bezel. Alternatively, you can just calculate 17 x 20 and 17 x 6 (6 being the MPH marker at the top of the dial, which reads as 10.2 but is actually 102) as they are easier to see. Adding these gives us 340 + 102 = 442. Or you can just look around the bezel for the closest whole number even multiplication and add or subtract the rest in your head. I do apologise again if these explanations are getting a little too confusing to understand. There are so many more calculations that can be made with the sliding bezel but for this newsletter I will leave you with these two most common everyday calculations. We will get back into Breitling soon. Andrew

An Annual General Meeting - all welcome

We owe you. It has been 13 months since the last project update - and you, our loyal supporters, have the right to know what is going on with our 'Manufactured in Australia' project.   The past year was tough, and as I type this, the future is equally uncertain. This is true for any business - small or large; and especially so for start-ups and micro brands who run on dreams while burning hard earned cash.   The title of our live stream is "How to make a watch without going bankrupt". The question mark at the end of sentence is intentionally omitted. This is not a question we would be asking ourselves. It is a statement, company credo and a policy.   Josh, Andrew and I will do our best to present you with the facts and answer all of your questions in real time, unscripted. As we call it: Horology Live and Uncut.   Check out the YouTube video:   https://youtu.be/g3OLSr9JqIw

Long Now: monthly dose of 'staying focused'

Signing up for a Long Now membership was worth every cent. The monthly newsletter is priceless: it keeps us focused on 'thinking long' about our own project. Setting up a watchmaking facility in a country with no horological manufacturing history is as planning long term as it gets and we are not talking years or decades- but generations. This month the focus is on counterbalancing forces which actively work against long term thinking: immediacy, ephemerality, and myopia. Immediacy is 'the quality of bringing one into direct and instant involvement with something, giving rise to a sense of urgency or excitement'. Of course is nothing wrong with excitement about a project, but the urge to act urgently and make a quick decision could be fatal. Ephemerality is 'the property of lasting for a very short time; an impermanence that suggests the inevitability of ending or dying'. Indeed, human life is short;  'Man, born of a woman, lives but a few days, and they are full of trouble' proclaimed the prophet. But when Hans Wilsdorf started Rolex with borrowed money in his tiny office, he wasn't worried much about mortality. Neither did the builders of the pyramids or those who built the Harbour bridge. Myopia is a vision condition in which you can see objects near to you clearly, but objects farther away are blurry. While we are yet to lay down the first brick in Mittagong, I can clearly see the finished building, every room, every window, bench, tools and watchmakers and machinists working together making Australian watches. Strangely to some, this future reality is as real today as it will be in years to come.

BIG NEWS:

 

The European Parliament voted on Wednesday to support the right of consumers to repair their own phones, tablets, laptops, and other devices, without going through the companies that produced them. The recent EU survey found that 77% of EU citizens would rather repair a device than replace, and 79% thought that manufacturers should be legally obligated to facilitate the repair of devices or the replacement of parts. MEPs call on the Commission "to grant consumers a right to repair by making repairs more appealing, systematic, and cost-efficient, whether by extending guarantees, providing guarantees for replaced parts, or better access to information on repair and maintenance." This is exactly what we have been preaching for years: the right to repair is a fundamental consumer right and access to spare parts and technical information should be unrestricted. A washing machine, a tractor, your personal computer and mobile phone, your automobile - as well as your watch - are not throw-away goods. Manufacturers limiting access to spare parts are doing that for two reasons only: to force you to buy a new product or to maintain a monopoly on repairs. Ironically, the only reason that Swiss watch manufacturers are able to perpetuate and prolong the restriction on the supply of spare parts to consumers and watchmakers is because of - watch owners themselves. You, the watch owner, are sold a lie that only the Swiss megabrand service centre can repair your precious watch and no one else. Because your watch is expensive and has sentimental value, and because you don't want it to be repaired by a 'sub-quality repairman', you are willing to surrender your rights and pay more. The biggest opponent of the 'right to repair' movement in Europe is Apple. The biggest opponents to the change in Media laws in Australia are Netflix, Google, and Facebook. Swiss watch megabrands are no different. There is something perverse with those corporations; the bigger they become, and with more market share acquired, there is less will to share the profit and more determination to squash the competition. Watch repairing is not rocket science. There are many skilful Australian watchmakers who have been servicing complex watches for decades and who can do an excellent job on your watch – if only Swiss brands would allow them access to spare parts. Yesterday, I got a delivery of Seiko spare parts. Casing seals, spring bars, bezels, clicks, crystals, and rubber straps. My order was processed same day, with next day delivery. All original parts, neatly labelled. Compared to the same Swiss parts – cheap as chips. Opening a spare parts account was a matter of a single email to Seiko's headquarters, and the fact that I am a professional watchmaker was sufficient to have access to the spare parts granted. I was not required to sit for an exam to prove my expertise; I was not required to invest tens of thousands of dollars in Seiko equipment, nor to have a showroom or service desk of any size, type or shape. Nor to sign an agreement that I would charge a certain amount for a certain service. Why? Because Seiko knows so well that if I fail to provide decent and professional customer service to you, then I will go out of business – and that’s how capitalism works. If Seiko can do it, why can’t the Swiss?  My only hope is that the European Parliament will continue to fight mega-corporations in the future. The Australian Competition and Consumer Commission should follow the path – and do what the Australian Government has commissioned it to do: to protect your consumer rights and my business rights and obligations, and to prevent illegal anti-competitive behaviour.

Whatever the time is made of

 

"Hey, do you remember this?" asked Andrew while handing over a flyer which flew out from a pile of magazines. Of course I do: the 'Opening Special' invitation to the good people of Parramatta; an announcement that a migrant watchmaker from the Balkans has arrived, fresh off the boat. The list of watches accepted for repair was simply a reflection of what 1994 jewellers had on display. The clock repair service was a reality: and in no time, I was flooded with cuckoo clocks, junk mantle clocks from the 1950s, the usual stuff no other reputable watchmaker would touch.  But I had no choice and 12 hours per day behind the bench was standard. Sunday was a normal trading day too, but keeping Shabbat was a big deal - an obscure family tradition of a Judeo-Christianity; a sign of non-alignment and independence. As for the promise of 'friendly service': well that one was broken soon. To be perfectly honest, most of my customers only wanted good workmanship at a low price and could not care less for that extra bit of free friendliness. I've learned quickly that in my new country, friendliness is rather an expensive commodity, one to be given away and shared to the deserving, and only when the relationship is based on mutual respect. True experts in their fields - surgeons, flight controllers, mathematicians, micro-machinists and watchmakers are highly motivated, highly focused nerds, grumpy and edgy, focused on chasing either time itself or whatever the time is made of. Parramatta was tough. The lack of sophistication was unbearable, and $650 rent for 17 square meters of retail space paid every Friday to St. George Bank was the biggest rip-off. As my mother would say: pay the fine, but keep the receipt. Last night we were ready to deliver two crucial components to an Australian business. I can't tell you who the customer is, what the parts are for, or even for what industry. But we - our small team of makers - delivered micron precision components in less than four days. We've solved the problem our customer was struggling with for months. We’ve also secured an order for nine more parts, to be delivered next week. Manufactured in Australia. Twenty six years in the making, worth every second.

I hate late night meetings

 Last night was no different. As much as both Josh and myself avoid discussing touchy issues at midnight, this one could not have been avoided. And quite frankly I didn't see it coming.

"Why are you spending so much time promoting Seiko? You should promote our own watches. One day, in maybe 5 years or even sooner, Seiko will get rid of you and you will end up like any other discarded Swiss 'authorised dealer' out there."

Make no mistake - Josh is a fantastic maker, and without him there would be no NH watches. But our project is much more complex than just NH watch. In order to grow, we need locally trained, clever, enthusiastic young watchmakers. And my role is not to promote our watches. My role is strictly defined: to create an environment that will allow us to grow. From building a workshop and importing machinery and tools, to the training of new apprentices. Growth takes time. Growth takes patience. Growth needs money.

To blame a salesman for being enthusiastic about Seiko is like blaming a terrier for being enthusiastic about chasing rabbits. I've spent decades spruiking second hand Omegas, Rolex, and Breitling. I got nothing in return. Not even a lousy Christmas card. And while Swiss brands were doing their best to prevent me repairing their watches and providing an honest service to their customers, I have nothing against the watches themselves. 

Unlike the Swiss, Seiko does respect us - and always has. Most importantly, many of our customers absolutely love Seiko watches. At this stage, Seiko does not restrict supply of spare parts to independent watchmakers. If they ever decide to follow the path of Swiss megabrands, or to close our dealership - then I will re-evaluate my stance. But Seiko was always good to us. My grandfather sold Seiko, and my dad still sells Seiko. So will I - and so should Josh.

Seiko simply makes sense. There are only so many Omega buyers out there, and even fewer people who can afford a $20,000 sports Rolex. Yet every person you see on the street, in the food court, or on the bus to work, is a potential Seiko customer. Millions of people in this town alone could easily afford a brand new, retro looking, robust Seiko watch. Selling just two Seiko watches per week would provide wages for one full time employee. It's as simple as that.

Seiko is no longer a $250 watch. Surely there is plenty of room for improvement (better bracelets, expansion into ladies' range, better timekeeping) but as the prices of new watches are going up, Seiko will have more room to make even better watches.

Our watch - the NH2.1 - is no longer a watch. It is a mechanical piece of art. And art is extremely difficult to sell. Artists have no choice but to do what they do. They don't chase customers. They don't scream 'buy my art'. They don't beg. Most of them struggle until death and die anonymous and poor. That's art for you. But that piece of art which will outlive the artist, bearing the maker's name, will provide enjoyment and pleasure for generations to come. 

Our customers understand what our project is all about. Many of them are great supporters and will continue to support us, and help us grow. We are blessed because at the end of the day, it's the journey that matters, not the destination.                         

With a half life of 1600 years, radium is here to stay

 

The other day, yet another vintage Rolex came in for repair. The original dial and hands were well preserved with a rather heavy and thick coating of luminous material. A perfect collectors’ example. However, this was a bit worrying as the 1930s luminous material was a mixture of phosphor and radium, and while the phosphor no longer glows, the radium is still as potent as it was 90 years ago. Clearly before we proceeded with disassembly, we needed to measure the radioactivity level, and the ensuing reading was undoubtedly concerning. 4 micro-Sieverts per hour, about 6 times more than the safe level. I called the customer to let him know that while I have no problem repairing the watch, a restoration would make little sense as, if he were to wear the watch for 8 hours a day, he would be exposed to the same levels of radiation as flight attendants or nurses working in a hospital. There are two problems with radium. One is the radiation itself and secondly the creation of radon gas. I am not an expert in this field, but it is the radon gas that is far more harmful than the radiation which comes off the watch dial. A single World War II military watch with a heavy coating of radium can blast 20 µSv/hour or more, which 40 times the safe level. The same goes for military Panerai watches, and if you have a collection of a few stored in a safe deposit box you are protecting yourself from radiation, but not radon gas. According to well documented medical research, radon gas is the second leading cause of lung cancer, with smoking being the first. Radioactive substances are invisible killers and should be taken seriously. If you have a watch with radium dial, and you come in, I would be more than happy to assist. If you wish to dispose of it, call the specialists: https://www.industry.gov.au/strategies-for-the-future/australian-radioactive-waste-agency Here is an interesting article on recent findings of radium in the Swiss watchmaking industry. "Nearly 1,000 watchmaking buildings and workshops in Switzerland could be contaminated by radium, a radioactive element that was used to add luminescence to watch dials and hands until the 1960s." https://www.swissinfo.ch/eng/watchmaking-fallout_one-thousand-swiss-buildings-could-be-contaminated-with-radium-/44070300 And here is the photo of the radiation level of the watch we recently restored. Safe to wear! You can find the link to the entire restoration here: https://youtu.be/iJv5vGt2Us0

Finally a whole box of railway pocket watches, again well within a safe level. Bottom line is collect railway pocket watches and avoid military.