Cardio's recent hiking adventure in the Catinaccio mountains serves as a compelling reminder of the unpredictable nature of both the wilderness and vintage timepieces. His detailed account of an unexpected water ingress into his IWC Ocean 2000, and the subsequent factory service, offers invaluable insights into the realities of owning and maintaining a legendary tool watch. This article explores the balance between preserving horological history and ensuring a watch's continued functionality.
I did some hiking in the Catinaccio in late June. Weather was unusual compared to previous years during this time. Before my arrival, an unseasonal storm came through and dumped quite a bit of snow in the mountains. Making mental plans that my plans might be severely disrupted, I nevertheless headed up from the Veneto area. Thankfully, the updates from the rifugios were positive and with some caution, most of the trails I planned to use were opened. I had the good fortune to hike up 542 that Monday, and barring some tricky spots, reached the glacier basin Gartl (where they also filmed 'Cliffhanger' long ago on the peaks of the Vajolet towers). It was magical, and the food was very good at 2700+. The descent back on 542 was quite the opposite; it was more than tricky and I slipped a number of times on steep snowfields. Thanks to the gracious help of fellow hikers who were fortunately right behind me, I was helped several times so that I don't slip further downhill. A little shaken but otherwise unhurt. An elderly gentleman right in front of us broke his ankle on the way down and we had to witness the entire Pelican rescue operation for him which was torturous for him to say the least but for me, an awe for the tireless dedication and expertise of a crew of mountaineering and voluntary rescuers in action and truly, how treacherous the mountains can be (or as they say, #prudenzainmontaga).
Slipping on thick and steep snowfields incurred other cost than trauma. My Ocean2000 was probably caked with some melting ice and dirt, and when I reached my room (finally!), I proceeded to rinse it under the tap. And then it happened when I saw it again in the morning. Moisture--lots of it--got into this legendary watch (see photo), and when I realized what happened, the true cost of this adventure sank in. The patinated tritium dial would be replaced as the first certainty, and the cost of repair would be exorbitant (both sadly turned out to be true...). Miraculously despite the water damage, the watch continued to tick and kept time flawlessly. Upon return (nearly two weeks later), I immediately headed to the boutique and turned the watch to service.
What I received was should I say...nearly a brand new watch. The dial was replaced; the inside of the glass was cleaned so it appears strangely sparkling and with great clarity even from afar; the entire watch was sandblasted (unevenly I might add) and looked very grey and feels a tad rougher than the older patinated bracelet; the black enamel 'OCEAN' was blasted clean with some show of the glittering metal underneath (sigh). I think they also replaced the bezel, originally with two small dent-holes, with a brand new one. The crown on the other hand looked like it came from a different batch of titanium manufacture: brighter and smoother in contrast to the bracelet. I don't mind these discrepancies--I am still alive.
I suppose the watch now looks older yet new-ish, and with one more adventure to tell in its journey with me.
Sentiero 542
Rifugio Re Alberto 1
Rifugio Passo Santner
Waterlogged
Marmolada
Serviced
