Diving into the Past

An assessment of the re-issued Aquastar Model 60

2023 or 1963? (Photo: Gishani Ratnayake)

In July of 1963, a small team of divers, led by Australian writer and adventurer (adventurous writer?) Hugh Edwards, set off for the Abrolhos archipelago, 43 miles off the west coast of Australia. Their goal was to explore the wreck of the 17th century Dutch ship Batavia, that ran aground on a reef in 1629. The partial remains of the ship were discovered by a fisherman who snagged his nets on some wreckage. The plight of the Batavia was a well known tale of tragedy, mutiny, and murder, played out on these arid, uninhabited islands, but the wreck had not been found or explored until Edwards and his team arrived.

The expedition was equipped with, as Edwards describes in his book, Islands of Angry Ghosts, with an “international” collection of gear—a boat from De Havilland, outboards from Evinrude, aqualungs from Sea Bee and Healthways, and wristwatches from the Swiss company, Jean Richard. Edwards writes, “Jean Richard made underwater timepieces available at ridiculously low cost.” You’d be forgiven if you’re not familiar with Jean Richard. The brand, which was briefly revived by the Girard-Perregaux group after decades of dormancy, has been shuttered once again for some time. But it was one of the oldest watch companies in the world, dating back to the late 1700s. 

In the late 1950s, the son of the owner of Jean Richard was Frederic Robert, an avid sailor and waterman. Robert saw the exciting rise of scuba diving as a recreational sport and wanted to capitalize on its popularity by making a diving watch. The result, in 1957, was the Aquastar Model 60, a simple but sturdy steel watch in what we now call a “skin diver” case—a rather flat “H-shaped” profile with long strap horns, and unprotected large crown. On the dial back then were both the names, “Jean Richard” and “Aquastar.” Within a few years, the Jean Richard name was dropped and Aquastar became its own brand, focusing on watches for watersports—sailing and diving. 

A member of the Batavia expedition documenting the wreck site, Aquastar on wrist.(archive photo by Maurie Hammond)

Aquastar’s lifespan was relatively brief, as watch brands go. By the late 1970s, it succumbed to the fate of so many Swiss brands in the face of affordable Asian quartz watches. But Aquastar was a supernova that burned brightly, especially in the heyday of dive watches that was the 1960s. We got the Model 60, Model 63, the Atoll, Deepstar, Regate, and Benthos, among a few more. All were no-nonsense watches that largely avoided the spotlight but were favored by those who spent time in, on, or under the waves—people like shark researcher, Eugenia Clarke, freediver Jacques Mayol, explorer Philippe Cousteau, and the Batavia expedition.

In 1960, U.S. Navy Lieutenant Don Walsh wore a Model 60 while piloting the bathyscaphe Trieste to the bottom of the Marianas Trench, the deepest point on the planet. Walsh, and two Navy colleagues from the Trieste project, bought their Aquastars at a dive shop in San Diego before the fateful journey to Challenger Deep. Of course, it was a modified Rolex strapped on the outside of the bathyscaphe that got all the publicity, but that was somehow emblematic of the two brands back then—one for show, one for go.

Aquastar was revived by Rick Marei a few years ago with largely faithful re-issues of some classic watches, most famously the Deepstar and the spinoff Deepstar II. But now we get the original Aquastar—the Model 60—once again. And, true to form, it is a faithful recreation that evokes that early era of undersea exploration.

As diving took off in the 1960s, so too did the discovery of shipwrecks. The advances in scuba diving freed divers from the heavy helmets and umbilical hoses of hardhat diving, and this made the sport accessible to thousands of adventurers, many of whom set off in the world’s oceans to find wrecks. To me, this era holds tremendous romance and evokes a spirit of discovery and exploration—the diver, with his rubber suit and twin hose regulator, wades in off a beach of some pristine reef on the rumor of a wreck, hoping to find an anchor, a coral encrusted sextant, maybe some silver coins. In those days, there was no side scan sonar, nor magnetometers, or deep ocean ROVs. The dive computer was still over two decades away. So the “underwater timepiece” was as essential as a Cressi mask or pair of Voit frogman fins. 

The new Aquastar Model 60 has all of this history rolled into it. Funny how a small, sub-$1,000 watch can inspire dreams of faraway atolls. On the face of it, the watch is nothing extraordinary, especially lined up next to the latest and greatest ceramic and titanium confabulations on offer from other brands. But I’ve always believed that the most important function of a dive watch these days is to inspire one to get out and do something adventurous. The cursive Aquastar name on the inky dial, the creamy fat lume plots, and the brushed steel timing ring (refreshingly bi-directional, I might add) immediately make me want to pack my trunks and snorkel and hop a cheap flight for the Caribbean, maybe to find a new shipwreck that has somehow evaded discovery.

At 37 millimeters, this is a tiny watch by most modern standards. But it carries the credibility of its past use by “real” divers, who probably treated it with the disregard of those for whom gear was simply expected to work, without coddling or fetishizing. Islands of Angry Ghosts is full of anecdotes of curious sharks, a near miss with a block and tackle, rough seas, sharp coral, and scorching sun. One can imagine there was little pampering or even notice of the wristwatches worn to time dives. The team excavated grave sites on one of the islands with pickaxes, where the murdered passengers were buried by the mutineers. They hammered away on coral underwater, prying free artifacts to hoist to the surface. They climbed on and off of boats in rough seas and cursed and sweated over fickle compressors. Nowadays we, and our watches, have gotten too soft. 

I caught wind of the new Model 60 last October, fittingly while diving for two weeks on the Caribbean island of Bonaire. Rick Marei wrote and offered to send a watch for me to try out. It arrived about a week into our stay, through a local shipping agent, and in the name of a friend of mine on the island. Just collecting it was a bit of an adventure, with multiple passes on a nameless, potholed dirt road looking for the address of the agent. The watch I unboxed there was a prototype, perhaps even the first one, without any luminescent paint on the dial or hands. The markers were simple white dots and hashes. I joked that it was the “nuclear submarine” issue version, a reference to the watches made for use around sensitive radioactivity sensors, that lacked radium or tritium. I’ve since received a production version to review, with plenty of lume provided by the tastefully tinted café au lait markers and hands.

At first, I found the watch rather sterile and underwhelming. Having worn a Deepstar extensively, this felt small and, yes, a bit bland. But I wore it for several dives and its simplicity grew on me. It’s a watch well suited for tropical sojourns and plenty of time in the water. Its slim, curved profile slides easily through harness straps and the long supple Tropic rubber strap (19mm) fit nicely over a 3mm wetsuit sleeve. Unlike some, I like bi-directional timing rings. They’re quick to set and with a firm ratcheting action, I’ve never knocked one out of alignment. In fact, it was Aquastar who patented the “friction” style rotating bezel, which added a measure of security for bottom timing. If I have one gripe about this reissue, it’s with the width of the bezel (we watch enthusiasts can be a picky bunch). It seems slightly wider than on the vintage edition, and I wish it had kept the proportions of the original. That said, the wider surface does have a lovely radial brushed treatment.

The Model 60 is not haute horlogerie. Sure it has a LaJoux-Perret G100 top grade movement, adjusted for accuracy and boasting 62 hours of power reserve, the crystal is sapphire, and the bezel rides on ball bearings. But to me this watch represents a category all too overlooked these days in the face of so many luxury desk divers—the humble, honest “underwater timepiece.” It feels true to its heritage, unlike so many “re-issues” these days. It oozes nostalgia for those sun baked days out in the Abrolhos islands, the excitement of discovery, the rewards of long hours of hard work, of sunburn and saltwater cracked lips. And while not sold at a “ridiculously low cost” like those provided to the Batavia expedition, at the pre-order price of $990, it’s a well made watch that also doesn’t feel too precious to use.

For a student of diving history and exploration like me, the new Model 60 feels like a time capsule, pulled from a dusty dive locker in Hugh Edwards’s Perth basement. It makes me want to go diving—now!—far away, with a cadre of buddies, a small boat and maybe a speargun. We’ll catch our dinner on the reef and cook it over a driftwood fire on the beach, then suck down warm beer til long after the sun goes down. Then we’ll fall asleep under a tarp to the muted rumble of the compressor filling our cylinders for the next day, with dreams of cannons and bones, and capstans and dead-eyes, and maybe, if we’re lucky, an encrusted lump of silver coins.

(Note: Aquastar has not asked me to send back my sample Model 60, so read my assessment with a pinch of saltwater, if you choose.)