Saturday, November 23, 2019

Building a "New Dad" gift watch

Building a watch as a surprise gift 

In the last year I have been building watches from parts.  So far I have built:
  • March 2019: A vintage style pilot watch based on a Swiss ETA 2824-2 automatic movement
  • April 2019: A replica Rolex Submariner also based on the ETA 2824-2 automatic


  • May 2019: A replica Rolex Day-Date with a Sellita SW220-1 automatic movement



I may blog about the first three just for fun later, but in this blog I will talk about a new gift watch.

My eldest daughter and her husband had their first child, Lily, this year on October 15.  Lily is Tara's first, my first grandchild, and my dad's first great-grandchild, making her the first child of her generation on the Reprogle side.  As a result Tara's pregnancy has attracted a lot of attention.

Parenthood in general, and fatherhood in particular, is less highly valued by some these days.  I strongly believe fathers play a crucial role in raising children, and I wanted to express that belief with a gift to encourage my son-in-law to be the best father he can be for Lily.  Giving a watch also symbolizes how precious will be the short time he will spend with her as a child.

Planning for building a watch from parts starts with choosing the style of watch, whether sports watch like the Submariner or chronograph or a dress watch like the Day-Date.  I wanted the gift to be a surprise, which makes it more difficult to choose a style, so I worked with Tara on the design choices.  We decided on a classic design with a gold case and a vintage manual-wind movement, the Swiss Unitas/ETA 6497/6498.

The Unitas 6497/6498 was first produced in the 1950s as a relatively compact pocket watch movement. As a wristwatch movement, however, it is a large diameter at 36.6 mm.  The smallest cases are in the 43-48 mm range, and are usually one of three categories, a classic dress style, an aviator style, or a Panerai style dive watch. Tara strongly preferred a classic-style dress watch in gold with a roman-numeral dial.  

Finding a suitable movement was a priority, and I wanted an authentic Swiss Unitas/ETA movement with some decoration to give Matt (and others) something to admire as a piece of art and craftsmanship.  I was excited to find someone selling the movement, dial, and hands from a 1960s-era Baylor pocket watch (below left).  The 6498 was made in varying levels of finish from plain steel to gold to fully decorated, and the one I purchased features a hammered gold finish (below left).





With the movement chosen, then next step was to select the case. Working with Tara I chose this 43 mm case with an 18k gold-plated finish, a display back to show off the movement, and a sapphire crystal to help prevent breakage or scratches.  The crown is an "onion" or "pumpkin" shape which is a classic style to match the roman numeral dial.  I used the original Baylor hands, which are Louis XIV style. 


The eBay seller listed the 6498 movement as "running", which it did indeed do when I first received it.  Since it was at least 45 years old, I assumed it needed cleaning, lubrication, and a new mainspring.  Also, when installing a movement in a different case, you have to allow that the winding stem will need to be sized to a different length, so I ordered extra 6498 stems.

So the first step is the disassemble the movement for cleaning.  The 6498 is relatively simple and large as watch movements go.  When taking apart a movement I take photos along the way to help recall the positions of parts, screws, and springs during reassembly. I make notes on legal pad that doubles as a work surface.

Starting with the movement side, first part out is the balance assembly, then the train bridge and the ratchet wheel.

 Then the winding "click" (ratchet), click spring, winding wheel, and three wheels.  (In the watch world gears are called "wheels".)

After removing some of the movement side parts, I flipped it over to work on the dial side parts.  Most of the winding and setting mechanism is on the dial side.

Flipping back to the movement side, I removed out the barrel bridge and center wheel to expose the mainspring barrel, the silvery round part at 6:00.  This contains the mainspring that stores the energy to drive the mechanism.


Opened and unwound one can tell this spring has lost much of its capacity by taking a set.

The parts went into the ultrasonic cleaner for several minutes.

They came out of the cleaner shiny and ready to reassemble.

I didn't get a photo of installing the new mainspring, mostly because I didn't have the right size spring insertion tool and had to hand-wind the new mainspring into the barrel, which I had never done before.

It was incredibly satisfying to put it all back together, align the balance wheel, give it a couple of turns on the crown to wind the spring and have the movement jump to life, kind of like doing CPR on a stunned bird.

Once the movement is running, it's time to check the timing and adjust or regulate it.  I use software on the laptop with a spare PC microphone that listens to the ticking of the movement as the balance spins back and forth and measures the speed to estimate the rate accuracy in +/- seconds per day.  A good number is something less than +/- 20s/d for a movement like this.

I was able to adjust it to +7 s/d in one position, which is very good, certainly for a 50 year old movement.

The timing was measured with the movement in 6 orientations.  This one had quite a bit of rate deviation in the various positions (below), but there was not much I could do to eliminate it.  It's probably due to wear from being old, like my knees.  

The original Baylor dial (left photo below, top) was too small to properly fit the new watch case, so I ordered a vintage-looking roman dial (left photo, bottom) with nice sunburst pattern on the seconds subdial.  The red XII is a classic design detail from Rolex military watches from WWI (below right).


Second Time Around Vintage Watch: 1910's Vintage Military ...






 The movement is mounted in the case, then the stem is cut to the right length, filed, and checked.




The crown is screwed onto the stem threads and secured with Loctite to help prevent being unscrewed if the crown is turned backwards.

Since the timing on the tester was inconsistent, I put it on a temporary nylon strap and wore it for a few days, checking the timing 2-3 times per day (right).  It tended to run a bit fast, gaining less than one minute per day.  I was able to adjust out some of the error, but even one minute per day is livable.

While I was testing it on the wrist, the watch became an icebreaker when I was invited to my DC client's home for dinner.  His 90 year old father was a doctor and a watch collector and immediately noticed the watch, said it was beautiful, and asked the brand.  I replied that I had built it, which led to a conversation about my hobby.


The custom-made strap is from EShandcrafted, and Australian Etsy seller.  A wood gift box with gold tone hinges completes the gift. 


I set the watch to 9:27 to match the time that Lillian Josephine Randall was born on October 15, 2019.



Monday, April 4, 2016

1897 Elgin Pocket Watch Restoration

Part 1 - The Patient's Story:

My mother had this vintage pocket watch in a display globe on the fireplace mantle.  This watch was owned by my grandfather John Heisler (1913-1988) of Etna Green, Indiana.  He was a hardworking guy, a mason and bricklayer with a wicked dry sense of humor.  Here's a pic (left) from Christmas 1962 with my grandmother Fawn Heisler (1915-2012).










Here's a photo (right) of me the same year sitting on Elizabeth Taylor's lap.

Wait... that's not Liz, that's my mother Jo Reprogle, known by all as the most gracious and beloved wife, mother, and grandmother anywhere.









Back to Grandpa's watch.  At first glance we can see the label says "Elgin Natl.Watch Co." Also, that it has "issues": the minute and second hands are gone, the hour hand is bent, and the case exterior shows major wear in the finish, whatever it once was, probably rolled gold plate.  On the bright side, the crystal is good with a few scratches, and best of all the dial is absolutely pristine, clear white with few small blemishes and intact markings.



 While the general design is still visible, the case back is so worn that the engraved patterns are completely smooth to the touch.


Unscrewing the case back we see "PAT.APR.22.1879 Fahys MONTAUK 4940925".  Fahys is the mark of the case manufacturer Joseph Fahys and Co.  The patent date is a clue as to the age of the piece, but  we'll look at the movement serial number to hopefully get the exact date.


Turning to the movement, we can see the two main bridges with some fancy engraving along with a serial number 7024902 at 10 o'clock on the train bridge.  Per Pocket Watch Site, this watch was manufactured sometime in 1897!


Besides the watch itself, Mom had a box of parts that once occupied the interior of our patient in such condition to bring tears to a watchmaker's eye, especially that stretched-out hairspring <sniffle...>. So we have balance cock, wheel, the mainspring barrel (lower right), and a winding wheel (upper right).


Dr. Matt has declared this patient unable to restore from this meager supply of parts.   Our patient is 119 years old and in need of a multiple-organ transplant.

Part 2 - The Donor
Enter our donor, fresh from an eBay auction for $92.  Seller says the movement is complete, but we can see cosmetically it's a mixed bag.  The crystal is missing, the dial is cracked and blemished, but it has all three hands.  In other words, it has everything GrandpaWatch does not (hands and movement), so with a little luck we can keep the entire case and dial and much of the movement including the main plate, bridges, setting/winding works, and some of the wheels.

Here's the Donor watch with the case back removed.  Everybody ooh and aah over the engraved balance cock, the regulator (F/S), and especially the blued steel screws. Donor's serial number 3261642 puts date of manufacture in 1888.


Watchmakers used blue screws not for the aesthetics but because that is the color they turned during heat treatment for hardness.  Yet even now high-end watch makers, especially German brands like Lange, like to use blued screws on some intricate movements like this Glashutte Senator Rattrapante, which goes for about $40,000 in gold.

Back to DonorWatch, the hands are good, though the small second hand is a little bent.  Hands are removed with a special tool called, you guessed it, a hand remover.  This is a prerequisite to taking apart the movement, as well as just being a good idea to protect them from damage.  Same is true for the balance assembly, which is exposed and one of the more delicate parts.  We can also see that the dial is cracked and blemished.


The hands are also blued and a bit tarnished, but definitely better than nothing.  Some cleaning may restore some lustre.


Removing the train bridge exposes the wheels (gears) and shows the mainspring barrel peeking out from the barrel bridge here at top.  At this point, I was trying to get the barrel bridge out from between the case and the main plate, and as I wiggled it, the barrel teeth disengaged and disgorged all its springwound energy in about 0.1 seconds, throwing the seconds wheel on the bench and the escape wheel (bottom) onto the floor.



At first I was really afraid I had lost other parts such as the escape thingy (anchor), but after crawling around with my nose in the carpet I went back and looked at the train bridge, and there it was safe on the back side. WHEW.



In retrospect, the next step should have come before dorking with the barrel and spraying parts all over.  I removed the screw holding the movement in the case then found how to separate the dial from the movement.  Three small set screws in the edge of the movement hold the dial pins.



The dial itself is enamel (see Pocket Watch Dials 101 for all you want to know) made from firing finely ground glass powder (enamel) onto a metal substrate.  Only high end watchmakers still use this technique to make dials today.  And I thought enamel was just a kind of paint that comes in tiny square bottles.

Under the dial is the winding and setting mechanism.  I am not sure if this watch has been serviced in more than a century, and the only reason it is not running today (besides me taking it apart) is the accumulated gunk and spoo throughout the movement.  DonorWatch is now disassembled, including the winding and setting mechanism, and it's time for a break.




Next steps:

  1. Disassemble GrandpaWatch and see which parts can be used. Take special care with the dial and crystal.
  2. Thoroughly clean all parts to be used, including the mainspring. Winding the mainspring into the barrel will be a challenge.
  3. Reassemble and lubricate GrandpaWatch movement with transplanted parts.
  4. Get the movement running and regulate timing.
  5. Clean the case and reassemble.
  6. ...?



Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Part 3: Hamilton Myron caliber 980 - Completing assembly and regulation

I managed to get a replacement click spring and install the click and ratchet wheel.


I'm waiting to install the balance assembly until everything else is assembled since it is somewhat delicate, and the less handling afterward the better.  So now we flip over to the dial side and install the cannon pinion on the shaft of the center wheel, in the center of the photo below.  The minute hand attaches to the cannon pinion shaft.


The hour wheel slides over the cannon pinion, so it gets a dab of oil.  (The hour hand attaches to the hour wheel, logically).  The brass dial washer is placed on the shaft of the hour wheel, I believe as a spacer between the hour wheel and the back of the dial.


Now only two parts remain, the balance assembly and its screw.  This took a long time to place.  At first it would not swing freely, and it would scrape against something.  I found one of the balance screws around the periphery of the wheel was partly unscrewed and was wobbling and rubbing against the pallet cock.  This may also have affected the timing of the balance, making it run slower than it should.

After tightening the balance weight it still would not run freely.  The balance wheel would swing only about 90 degrees for a while then stop.  I took it out and reinstalled, but still the vibration was too small, so I looked closer and found microscopic bits of lint or hair, about three of them stuck in the hairspring and the pallet, messing up the works.  

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) Keep the work area clean. 2) The longer it takes, the more gunk you collect.

Another issue I saw was that the hairspring is not perfectly centered, meaning that the coils of the spiral are tighter on one side than the other.  This is not something I have any business trying to fix at this point, so I left it at is.

Also, because of my less-than-deft handling of the balance, the hairspring had come out of the guide pins that keep it secure to the balance cock.  Once pressed between the pins the balance wheel could move freely and began beating strongly.  It was alive with a beating heart.


I don't have the instrument to measure amplitude, the degrees of rotation of each swing of the balance spring, but to my eye it appears to be well more than 180 degrees.  HandyDan says >200 is the goal, so I think it is enough to be healthy.  Here's a clip of it running:

I wound it fully to see how long it would run, and I was excited to see it running after 6 hours, then 12, then when I woke the next day, eventually running down after 25-26 hours.  After the hands and dial are attached the full run time can be measured.

I tried to regulate the watch timing with the movement out of the case, but it was so quiet that my makeshift audio rig would not pick up the ticking sound over the ambient noise in the room (mainly computer cooling fans).  So I decided to go ahead and assemble the face and hands to the movement because the regulator adjustment was easily accessed by removing the case back.  So regulation was left for the end.

Final assembly

Before installing the dial I cleaned the faces of the numerals very gently using just a toothpick dipped in cleaning fluid.  The dial was in pretty good shape as is, and I didn't want to take a chance of cleaning off the printing. So the only other thing to clean was the hands by sticking them in a piece of pith wood and taking them for a swim in the ultrasonic cleaner.



Honestly, I didn't notice a huge difference, but they did look good.

Next was to install the new crystal.  The old one (below, middle) was slightly scratched and probably could be polished, but I was able to get a new crystal (below, right) from G-S.  This crystal glues onto the front of the bezel.  It happened to fit perfectly, and maybe because I built so many model airplanes as a kid I managed to avoid getting any excess glue on the crystal. The old crystal is curved with beveled edges all around, while the new one is curved top to bottom and is probably more original.


Seeing the final product I think it went together pretty nicely.  The original dark crocodile strap happened to be the wrong width, 17mm instead of 16mm, and was jammed between the lugs so tight that I could not remove it without damage.The new Hadley-Roma genuine lizard strap was fitted, and I think the color is nice with the gold finish.  I had to steal the gold color clasp from the original strap, but it wasn't using it any longer.






Before and after.

Regulation

The last part of the process was to regulate the timing and test the run time.  I laid the watch in the case atop an old computer microphone connected to a laptop, then covered it with towels in an attempt to reduce ambient noise.



The Audacity freeware audio recording and analysis software allowed me to record the escapement ticking sound over a period of time and measure the period between a number of ticks to extrapolate the standard "seconds per day" accuracy rating.  I arbitrarily chose to record 100 seconds of ticking then used the cursor the compare the the time for 500 ticks.  (The 980 movement beats at 5 Hz or 18000 vibrations per hour or 0.2s per tick.)  With this rig I don't know how to measure beat error or amplitude, though there is probably some way to derive it by analyzing the waveform. (Note that in the waveform below the ticks are the big impulses while the shorter regular waves are 60Hz hum, possibly from the lamp on the table or a fan.)


The first test was with the regulator set to the 2S (slow) marker, and the result was about 80 seconds/day slow.  I moved the pin to 0, and the timing was about 27s/day fast (image above). The final adjustment setting was 0.5 Slow, and the result on the test was a pretty decent 7s/day fast.  (In the waveform the 500th tick occurred at 99.992s,)  It is desirable to set the watch to run a little fast rather than slow since a) they tend to slow down a little, and b) if you are early, you are on time.

Run Time

The final observations were to measure the run time on a full wind.  First I set the time to match my radio clock, which is always on the exact time to the second. (The 980 does not stop the seconds while setting the time, so there is about 30 seconds difference.)  After 38 hr 22 min, the watch is still dead on!  About two hours later, it stopped running, which says the run time on a full wind is around 40 hours.


I was probably insufferably pleased with myself at this point.  Not only does the watch look sharp if not exactly new, it is a functional timepiece and not just wrist bling.   I could not be 
happier with the results!