Seiko

The watch is an icon. I have a background in hiking and climbing (if not mountaineering, per se) which matches the watch’s early history, and I didn’t want something flashy. I view the Explorer as the “plain-clothes” Rolex. However… which model? I imagine most of you are familiar with a script similar to this one: “Hmmm. A vintage 5500 in good shape might fetch close to $10K. Damn! Hey, honor the past with a 114270 instead! It’s got the upgraded caliber 3130, but is still small by modern standards at 36mm. Nah. the 214270 is really the perfect size for my wrist at 39mm (and it has the 3132, as well, with greater accuracy and additional resistance to magnetic bother), but…the hands are too short! (What were they thinking???) 214270 second try? Afraid not—the decision to lume 3,6,9 when upgrading the length of the hands has, imho, limited the versatility of the watch; now, sadly, it looks like a sports watch only….” And so on, and so forth.

Thus, as I was treading water (to put it mildly—more like thrashing about, really) and consulting WUS each day (I’ve been a member for three years and have made numerous purchases on that forum—including the 003), I began to be attracted to Grand Seiko—a world of its own. (So many models! So little time!) Little by little I was pulled in another direction, and after my official “graduation” from medical oversight in April I found myself looking for something altogether different from that “run of the mill Rolex” I had been planning to buy. The SBGA111, Spring Drive 10^thAnniversary, in steel, seemed a “perfect” choice—thoroughly modern, with advanced technology and a dial as comfortable with jeans as with a business suit. (Maybe a tad large, but….) Bingo!

I’m sure you’ll all agree, looking at this stunning image from iadxb’s post, I couldn’t have gone wrong with that timepiece. But during the week in which I found one for sale, yet was subsequently disheartened by photos of its condition (a nice example is not easy to find), I ran across the (far rarer) 003. “Wow, that’s interesting,” I thought. “I know I’ve seen that before. But where?” And so began a search for more information about this unusual watch.

Enter “Cazalea.” In no time I was reading several of the moderator’s excellent posts, feeling more and more a sense of urgency to strike quickly if I were to acquire the prize before someone else snapped it up. I quickly joined the WatchProSite, and read every word he had written about not only this watch, but about its cousins, as well. 

And the more I read, the more I wondered if the 003 might be merely a starting point—that the other references in this series might call me as fatefully as the Sirens did poor Odysseus! This clear danger notwithstanding, only a day or two later, after pleasant negotiations with a most trusting seller, the 003 was on its way to me. (Only time will tell whether or not my wife will have to “bind me to the mast”—read: freeze our retirement accounts!—to prevent the alluded to catastrophe!)

How can I thank you enough, Cazalea! Not only beautiful, I’m finding the watch practical, as well. It’s still a surprise on my wrist in the morning, seeming too nice for the flannel shirts of my retirement. Yet, it doesn’t look entirely out of place, either. It feels a bit like I’m wearing my father’s watch (though he never had a nice watch, himself), principally because the dial’s “eggshell” coloration gives it a vintage air. And it looks stunning with khakis and a sport shirt (I rarely wear a suit or sport coat any more).

The fellow I bought the watch from, a terribly affable man—a Mainer—had been looking for one for some time, and found this example on the ’bay from a dealer in Japan (full set: registry card, hang tags, inner/outer boxes and all).