As someone who has spent many years writing about, talking about, and messing about with, wristwatches, I receive more than a few questions every day about these silly, beautiful, expensive, obsolete little mechanical objects. Some are thought provoking, and I enjoy being challenged to look at a watch a different way, consider other viewpoints, or come up with an intelligent answer to an interesting query about a specific watch or its use in the real world. But the question I get asked the most is both the least specific and the most difficult to answer: “What are your thoughts on Watch X?”
This week I received this sort of question more than usual. That’s because the watch universe was briefly jarred off its axis by the introduction by Tudor of—gasp!—a 39-millimeter version of its vaunted Pelagos diving watch. So I figured I’d turn it into an opportunity to jot down some “thoughts” about this inexplicably controversial new watch that has dive watch denizens agog. Of course, these are merely observations based on photos and specs only, since I have not handled this downsized diver. That said, I’ve had a fair amount of experience with the original Pelagos. I owned one of the first generation versions for a while, took it to Eleuthera in the Bahamas for a week of shark tagging, and then foolishly traded it away. A couple of years later, I borrowed one of the blue dial watches for a press trip to the island of Tenerife, where I did some freedive training with Tudor’s ambassador, Morgan Bourchis.
The original 42mm Pelagos was, and still is, a magnificent dive watch. Rendered in titanium, it wears comfortably on both bracelet and rubber strap, put up with any of the rough and tumble to which I subjected it, and with its matte finished minimalist aesthetic, looked the business. A watch is a visual and tactile experience more than anything. How it wears and how it looks, to me, are 90% of what make up its appeal, or lack of it. Those are subjective criteria and will vary from one person to the next, depending on their taste and their wrist anatomy. Then there are things like the crispness of the bezel action, the smoothness of its crown winding, the glow of its lume, and the accuracy of its timekeeping. Those tend to be more objective criteria and ones that remain of secondary consideration to most people, at least judging by the response I observed on social media and in comments on articles about the new Pelagos.
The new watch seems to be about making compromises in order to hit a specific, smaller form factor, perhaps to increase its appeal across more wrist sizes, and, judging by the marketing photos, across gender. Along with the downsizing of its case by three millimeters, the new Pelagos gets a reduction in its depth rating to 200 meters and omits the helium release valve that was present on what I’m calling the “apex” version. For what is inarguably Tudor’s deepest and most professional grade diver, these changes seem disappointing and unnecessary. I have no doubt Tudor could engineer a smaller, even thinner watch that could maintain 500 meters of water resistance and even with the concession of a shallower rating, the helium valve could have remained, if only as a symbol of the watch’s “go anywhere” intentions (even in a decompression chamber!). Now I’ve gone on record in the past as saying that both deep ratings and a helium release valve are silly and unnecessary, but on a brand’s halo product, give me all the tech. Leave the reef snorkeling to the nostalgic Black Bay lineup. The Pelagos should be uncompromisingly Special Forces grade.
Similarly, what many considered the calling card of the original Pelagos, its spring-loaded adjustable bracelet clasp, is now gone, in favor of a system Tudor calls “T-fit.” Now I haven’t tried this new clasp, but can recall that when the Pelagos debuted, the clasp was the one feature everyone was talking about. It reminded me of the old Expandro clasps on Doxas from the 1960s, a clever way to take up slack on a pressure-shrunk wetsuit sleeve, a flex of engineering and earnestness, a commitment to diving ergonomics, not to mention it was pure fun to play with.
In addition to its tamer diving chops, the 39mm Pelagos also adopts some different finishing to the titanium case, the bezel, and even the dial. The original watch had no brushwork visible anywhere, giving the illusion that, from some angles, it was hewn from a block of matte plastic—in a good way. It reminded me almost of the “Parkerized” finish on some military watches of the 1960s and ‘70s. This was especially true of its bezel and dial, which caught no light reflections, and looked the same no matter from which angle you looked at it. This was part of its brutally utilitarian appeal, but also one of the complaints lodged against it. It left some people cold. The 39mm version attempts to change that with some brushing and circular graining added, that seem to warm it up. To my eyes, this detracts from the uniqueness of the original Pelagos. The dial also loses what I always found the most dramatic aspect of the original watch: the cut out chapter ring (rehaut, en français), the way it looked so three dimensional, so architectural, so brutally modern. I mourn this loss and though I could accept the warmer vibes of its finishing, the lack of this signature feature is the deepest cut for me.
And the size? After all, the new 39mm diameter is the whole raison d’être of the Pelagos 39. It’s right in the name. I’m all for a variety of sizes in watches, and have no problem at all with 39 millimeters. It is almost an archetypal diameter for dive watches, especially in the Rolex/Tudor universe. So I have no quibbles with making a smaller version if it means it will wind up on more wrists. I just wish they’d kept the features of the original 42mm watch that made it so distinctive and special. Imagine a 39mm Pelagos with the full spec—trick clasp, cutout dial, matte finish, deep water resistance? Now that’s a watch I could really get excited about. That said, I’m good with the 42. In fact, in writing this, I’m suddenly wishing I hadn’t sold mine. So it goes.
It’s funny how, to an outsider who is not versed in the nuances and madness that is watch enthusiasm, the 39mm Pelagos looks altogether the same as the old one. It’s only for those of us who look closer and obsess over details, that any of the changes matter. And that, in a nutshell, is what watch enthusiasm is all about—the details. And when you’re considering a product that costs what it does (over $4,000), you’re justified to get all nerdy about clasps and helium valves and dial features you can’t pronounce. I’m sure the new 39mm Pelagos is a superb watch, as rugged and high quality as the apex version. Most modern dive watches are these days. And when it comes right down to it, the more cool watches in the world, the better. Especially dive watches. Tests and reviews and comparisons are largely irrelevant. As I wrote earlier, most of what makes or breaks a watch like this—or any watch—is how it looks and how it wears. If the smaller size of the new Pelagos is Goldilocks “just right” and the warmer finishing makes your heart pitter patter, none of my “thoughts” are going to matter much. And I’m fine with that.
Another question I get asked a lot, and one that is impossible to answer is, “is this watch worth the price?” The answer depends on a person’s criteria and her budget. And let’s face it, nothing that merely tells the time should cost over $4,000. But here we are. As watch enthusiasts, our sense of financial reality becomes suspended, our view of value changes, so that “in-house movement” and “name prestige” become justifications for added zeroes. The short answer to the question of a watch’s worth is, “if it sells well, then it was priced correctly.” But these days, we are spoiled for choice, and there are so many well made watches, exciting watches, and interesting watches for a lot less money than, say, this new Pelagos 39. I have a hard time looking at much over $2,000 now without a very critical eye. Because there’s a razor-thin difference in quality and capability between watches that cost $1,000 and $4,000 in my opinion. Then the difference is visible only under a 10x jeweler’s loupe, or in the fickle value on the secondary market. So, is the new Pelagos 39 worth the $4,400 asking price? Is a new Land Rover Defender worth $80,000? Is a Ranger fishing boat worth $93,000? Probably not, but as long as there are people who think so—maybe.
Of course, all these thoughts are idle ones until a watch is on the wrist. Then it becomes a tangible, almost living object. More than most things, wristwatches have a way of making us suspend reality, and overlook rational arguments and criticisms. Either you bond with them or you don’t and a week of diving someplace exotic with the Pelagos 39 might make me fall in love with it and call it the most exciting watch of the year. Until then, all you’re left with are my thoughts. More than a penny’s worth, I hope.
How about you? What your thoughts about the new Pelagos 39? Leave them in the comments below.
I hadn’t quite realized the 39 strips a lot of “Pelogosness” from the Pelagos platform until reading this. And you’re right, that is a shame. But I think with the Black Bay platform skewing vintage in aesthetic, the Pelagos name is Tudor’s only place to make something like a modern Sub, and really that’s what everyone wants.
I’ve thought about this for a while listening to TGN, that both yourself and James have such love for the brand and yet, to my knowledge, neither of you own a modern Tudor. I think that speaks to this belief that Tudor has all the right ingredients to make the Goldilocks built-for-purpose dive watch, and you guys like myself believe the Pelagos platform to be the place that will come from. But at least for me, the FXD and 39 just aren’t quite there.
Jason,
Congratulations on a brief return to focused watch journalism. As I have noted in the past, I will read anything you or your pal James Stacey write and this is no exception. A crisp piece on a new item. Well done.
As to the new Pelagos, I have no dog in this fight. As you said, the price tag basically eliminates me from anything but the most Walter Mitty of thoughts. If I owned a dive boat in the Bahamas, would I own a Pelagos? Perhaps. It would be a perfect one watch collection. But, I am far more likely to own a Corvette or explore the Rockies than even ride in a dive boat in the Bahamas.
So, is the Pelagos attractive? To be sure. Do I covet the Pelagos FXD? Sure. Does it matter, not at all because luxury watches are not in my budget and I would be loathe to bang that watch once it was on my wrist.
BTW, for a wrist check, today is VJ Day marking the end of WWII. It is important for many of the baby boomers because war’s end meant our fathers survived and built a new world in America. I am wearing a Bulova A11 with all the stock numbers and the nomenclature. Was it worn by an aviator flying or navigating a B17 over Guadalcanal or a C47 flying over the hump? Or did it spend the war in a cardboard box in government stores waiting for its time of glory that never arrived? I will never know, but I do know it cost me less than 10% of the new Tudor (including the complete servicing so that it runs as well as it did in the 1940s).
As you said, watches are little anachronisms that we attach to memories and fantasies. I’ll keep my fantasies in check as I hunt for other pieces of 20th century history.
Cheers, mate