A Vintage Watch Blog Detour: An Omega, an Owl, and Why Objects Carry Meaning

This space is usually about vintage watches. Today’s post stays on-theme by anchoring to a clean mid-century Omega Seamaster, but it pivots to a companion object with deeper antiquity: an “Athenian Owl” signet ring modeled on the classical silver tetradrachm. Watches mark time. Signet rings mark identity. Together they show how we carry meaning on the wrist and in the hand.

Athena: the city’s namesake and north star

Athena, goddess of wisdom, strategy, and crafts, was Athens’ patron deity. Origin myths put her in a contest with Poseidon to bestow the greater civic gift; she offered the olive tree, promising food, oil, timber, and trade. 

The polis adopted her name and her ethos: intelligence combined with practical skill and disciplined force. In religion, she was Athena Polias, protector of the city; in statecraft, she was the emblem under which Athenian democracy, law, and artisanry flourished.

The Athenian silver tetradrachm: the “owl” that ruled trade

By the 5th century BCE, Athens struck a high-purity silver tetradrachm that became the Mediterranean’s reserve currency. Its reliability rested on:

• Silver source: the Laurion mines south of Athens supplied consistent metal in large volume.

• Standard weight and fabric: ~17.2 g of silver, four drachmas to the coin.

• Iconic design: instantly recognizable and hard to counterfeit at scale.

Value in wages. A common benchmark puts one drachma near the daily pay of a skilled worker or hoplite. On that basis, a tetradrachm equaled roughly four days’ wages. Conversions varied with wartime premiums and market conditions, but in everyday terms this single coin could buy staples for a household for several days or pay a craftsman for nearly a week.

Role in Mediterranean trade. Tetradrachms or "Owls" traveled. Merchants from Egypt to the Levant to Sicily accepted them without assay, which lowered transaction friction. Athens used owls to buy grain, timber, and shipbuilding materials, and to fund fleets and building programs. When you see an “owl,” you are looking at one of history’s most successful monetary technologies: a trusted, portable standard.

Reading the ring: symbols from a civic identity

This signet condenses the coin’s obverse language:

• The Owl. The species on the classical coin is the Little owl (Athene noctua), the bird sacred to Athena. It signals sharp vision and alertness, metaphorized as wisdom. On the coin, the owl faces right, often with a frontal eye, giving a “staring” immediacy that made the type unmistakable even in low light.

• The Olive sprig. A small twig with leaves and fruit appears behind the owl. It recalls Athena’s gift and the Athenian economy’s backbone: food, lamp oil, medicine, wood, and trade revenue. In civic terms it meant prosperity through cultivation, not plunder. In religious terms it meant the goddess’s ongoing guardianship.

• The letters ΑΘΕ. Classical tetradrachms carry ΑΘΕ, an abbreviation of ΑΘΗΝΑΙΩΝ—“of the Athenians.” It marks the coin as a state issue and a statement: this value is guaranteed by the polis of Athena.

• The crescent moon. Many tetradrachms include a crescent, likely alluding to the nocturnal owl and the passage of time under the goddess’s watch. Some later traditions linked it to victories fought by moonlight, but numismatists generally treat the crescent as a lunar symbol rather than a specific battle badge. In practice, it completed a triad: bird of night, moon of night, city under divine clarity.

Personal meaning: how the symbols work for me

• Owl → Wisdom. A reminder to choose clarity over noise, to see in low-signal conditions, and to act with strategy rather than impulse.

• Olive → Resourcefulness. The olive is my favorite plant because of its deep human partnership: food, oil for light and cooking, wood for heat and shelter. It stands for resourcefulness that sustains households and cities.

• Crescent → Success. A quiet emblem of hard-won success, not boastful but steady, like phases that return.

• Silver tetradrachm → Prosperity. A guarantee stamped “of the Athenians,” reminding me that prosperity is collective: trust, standards, and institutions make value travel.

• Unfinished → Continuity. The signet is unfinished and still carries the silversmith's work marks. It serves as a reminder that the attainment of knowledge, resourcefulness, success, and prosperity is never completed.

If you would like an Athenian Tetradrachm signet ring of your own, check out Athena Owl Coin Signet Ring Oxidized Silver 

Why a vintage Omega belongs in this story

The Omega Seamaster is mid-century modernity distilled: precise, legible, engineered to endure. Like the owl, it is recognizable at a glance and prized for reliability. 

Athens made a monetary standard; Omega pursued a timing standard. Both designs privilege clarity, trust, and utility over ornament. Wearing the watch with the ring pairs two technologies of time and value.

A watch can keep you punctual. A signet can keep you purposeful. Together they tell time and tell you what to do with it.

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Molnija 1964: A Soviet Pocket Watch With Swiss DNA

Why this watch matters

A 1964 Molnija pocket watch sits at the intersection of Soviet industrial planning, military and railway timekeeping, and pre-war Swiss movement design. It is robust, legible, and serviceable, with a movement lineage that traces back to Cortebert calibers used by early Rolex pocket and military watches.

The Molnija factory: origins and mandate

Molnija (Молния, “Lightning”) was established in 1947 in Chelyabinsk, east of the Urals. The post-war brief was simple: build reliable timekeepers for state needs. Priority customers included the Ministry of Defense, civil aviation, the railways, and the merchant navy. Output focused on large, easily read pocket watches and dashboard clocks rather than fashion-driven wristwatches. The factory standardized designs, consolidated suppliers, and trained a workforce to assemble, regulate, and overhaul movements at scale. The result was a rugged product engineered for harsh conditions and straightforward maintenance.

Pocket watches in the Soviet Union

For two decades after World War II, pocket watches remained common across the USSR. Wristwatches were not yet universally available and were often more expensive relative to wages. Pocket watches served:

• Field officers, artillery crews, and radio operators who needed a protected time source away from shock and debris.

• Railway staff and stationmasters who relied on large dials and sub-seconds for precision and synchronization.

• Industrial workers and engineers operating in environments where a wristwatch could snag, contaminate, or be damaged.

• Navigators and mechanics in aviation and shipping who preferred pocket formats for on-board reference or panel mounting.

Even as wristwatches spread in the 1960s, the state continued ordering pocket watches for institutional use where legibility and robustness trumped fashion.

The movement: Swiss roots and the Rolex connection

Inside this 1964 example is the Molnija caliber 3602, a 16-size, 15-jewel, hand-wound movement running at a relaxed beat (commonly 18,000 vph). Its architecture is a close derivative of the pre-war Cortebert 616/620 family. Cortebert supplied ebauches not only under its own name but also to other brands; Rolex used Cortebert-based pocket and deck-watch movements for select references and for military-adjacent projects. That is the lineage Molnija adopted: a reliable, big-plate design with ample torque, wide tolerances, and simple keyless works. In practice this means:

• Large, separate bridges for the gear train.

• A generous balance with flat hairspring and curb pins.

• A straightforward, easily serviced barrel and ratchet arrangement.

• Sub-seconds at 6 via a true small-seconds fourth wheel.

Factory marks. The bridge stamp “ЧЧЗ” confirms Chelyabinsk Watch Factory. “15 КАМНЕЙ” = 15 jewels. The two-part date “2-64” is a quarter code: Q2 1964. The “443” is an internal assembly/inspector or workshop code used for batch control.

Caliber. Molnija 3602 architecture. 16-size, hand-wound, small seconds at 6. Separate train bridge, large ratchet and crown wheels, straight-grained nickel plates, polished screw heads. Beat rate ~18,000 vph. No shock protection on the balance (typical of 3602), which fits the pre-mid-60s.

Why the early build matters. This Q2-1964 piece sits at the tail end of the higher-finish era. Bridges show cleaner edge breaks, even nickel plating, and consistent jewel setting. Later mid-60s examples more often show simplified finishing and wider cosmetic tolerances.

Production date on the movement. As noted, Molnija stamped dates on the bridge. On this piece, “2-64” is plainly visible, which is how collectors authenticate period.

Case, dial, hands

• Case: Silveroid (steel, nickel, zinc alloy) with a snap back and a sturdy pendant-crown. Inexpensive and strong, Silveroid d is an ideal material for watches as it is corrosion resistant, making it an excellent choice for daily wear. Diameter around ~50–52 mm. The case is functional rather than delicate, with thick walls and a tall crystal to clear the long hands.

• Dial: High-contrast Arabic numerals, a crisp railroad minute track, and a recessed sub-seconds at 6, built for legibility in low light.

• Hands: Heat-blued spade or leaf hands are common. True thermal bluing shows color shift under different angles and a deep, in-material blue rather than paint.

• Movement finish: Nickel-plated plates with brushed bridges, polished screw heads, and clear, unfussy machining. Early examples often show crisper edges and cleaner surface prep.

Quality before and after 1964

Early Molnija 3602 production emphasized consistency and finish. Jeweling, plating thickness, and regulation targets were tight for the period. After 1964, several changes crept in as the factory scaled and modernized:

• Simplified finishing on bridges and screws.

• More variability in plating quality and edge definition.

• Progressive cost controls that affected cosmetic details more than core function.

• Introduction and parallel use of shock-protected variants (often labeled 3603) with different parts interchangeability.
  Performance remained solid for institutional needs, but collectors often find pre-mid-1960s pieces better finished on average.

Who carried them

• Military: Officers, artillery timekeepers, signals units, and armor crews who needed a stowable time source away from shock.

  
  
  

• Railways: Conductors, dispatchers, and stationmasters who synchronized timetables and flags.

• Industry: Supervisors and machinists in plants where a wristwatch could be fouled by coolant, oils, or protective clothing.

• Medical and scientific staff: Nurses and lab technicians, timing procedures with a clean, pocketable instrument.

Living with a Molnija today

A 1964 Molnija is straightforward to service. Parts availability remains good because of long production runs and movement simplicity. When buying or overhauling:

• Verify the movement date stamp and matching case period details.

• Check endshake and side-shake on the train; these watches tolerate use but reward careful adjustment.

• Inspect the blued hands for repainting; true heat bluing is distinct.

• Expect ±30–60 s/day without heroic regulation; better is possible with careful work.

Bottom line

This 1964 Molnija is a working piece of Soviet industrial history with Swiss movement DNA. It was built to keep railways running, troops coordinated, and factories on schedule. It remains honest, durable, and collectible—especially in earlier, better-finished trims.

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A 1961 Omega Seamaster 14704 SC-61 Cal. 591 on a Bonklip Bracelet

The Watch: Omega Seamaster 14704 SC-61 (1961)

This reference 14704 SC-61 houses the caliber 591 automatic movement, part of Omega’s evolution into mid-century, thin-profile automatic watches. With 20 jewels, a bidirectional winding rotor, and a smooth sweep, the 591 represents the refinement of Omega’s pre-COSC movements before the later chronometer-grade calibers dominated the lineup.

The dial is particularly striking: an “Explorer” style 3-6-9 layout, reminiscent of tool watches of the era but paired here with the elegant Seamaster script. The patinated lume plots at the numerals and dagger indices reflect natural aging, a prized trait for collectors today.

The case, stamped 14704 SC-61, is stainless steel with a screw-down Seahorse caseback, engraved with the emblem that became synonymous with the Seamaster line. The crown carries the correct Ω logo, and the overall design balances utility with understated mid-century elegance.

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From the Dirty Dozen to the Seamaster

Omega’s connection to military tool watches runs deep. During World War II, Omega supplied thousands of wristwatches to the British Ministry of Defence, including their contribution to the famed “Dirty Dozen” issued to the Allied forces. Those watches were simple, durable, and resistant to the harsh conditions of war.

Post-war, Omega leveraged this military expertise when launching the Seamaster line in 1948, designed as a civilian waterproof watch with military DNA. The early Seamasters borrowed from the hermetically sealed cases and durable construction developed during wartime. The 14704 carries this lineage forward—rugged enough for daily wear, yet elegant enough for post-war prosperity.

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The Bonklip Bracelet: WW2 Innovation, Postwar Utility

The Bonklip bracelet, first patented in the 1920s and popularized through the 1930s–40s, was widely used by RAF pilots and military personnel during World War II. Its stainless steel ladder-link design offered several advantages:

• Lightweight and breathable in hot, humid climates.

• Instant adjustability, allowing the bracelet to be worn over uniforms.

• Corrosion resistance, crucial in tropical deployments.

For these reasons, Bonklip bracelets became synonymous with military-issued tool watches.

Pairing a 1961 Seamaster with a Bonklip bracelet is period-correct and historically meaningful. While leather straps often degraded in tropical service, Bonklip bracelets endured. Collectors today appreciate the practical elegance of this combination, which ties directly back to Omega’s wartime legacy.

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Technical Specifications

• Reference: Omega Seamaster 14704 SC-61

• Year: 1961

• Movement: Omega Cal. 591, automatic, 20 jewels

• Case: Stainless steel, screw-down Seahorse caseback

• Dial: Explorer-style 3-6-9 dial with applied indices, luminous plots

• Crystal: Acrylic (hesalite)

• Bracelet: Bonklip stainless steel

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A Watch of Continuity

This Seamaster tells a story: from Omega’s wartime production of robust tool watches, through the civilian boom of the Seamaster line, to the enduring practicality of the Bonklip bracelet. It is a piece where history, engineering, and aesthetics converge—a mid-century timepiece that remains as practical today as it was over sixty years ago.

Images above: The crisp white dial with Explorer numerals, the copper-toned cal. 591 movement, the Seahorse caseback, and the period-correct Bonklip bracelet advertisement and patent drawing.

1955 Helvetia reference 351 (caliber 64 manual winding, sub-second movement)

Helvetia Watches: A Legacy of Swiss Craftsmanship

Helvetia Watches, renowned for their precision and elegance, has a storied history that intertwines with the iconic Swiss watch brand, Omega. Helvetia, the Latin name for Switzerland, perfectly represents the brand's commitment to Swiss horological tradition and craftsmanship.

In April 1892, Louis Brandt & Frere, a prominent Swiss watch company, registered the name 'Helvetia' as one of their brand names. During this period, they also introduced the name 'Omega' for a new line of high-quality lever movement pocket watches, showcasing their pioneering manufacturing techniques.

The success of Omega watches led the Brandt brothers to establish a new company in La Chaux de-Fonds called 'Société d'Horlogerie La Générale' in 1895. This move allowed them to allocate more resources to the production of Omega watches by transferring the manufacturing of their other watches to this subsidiary.

However, in 1911, Omega Watch Co decided to withdraw from La Générale, resulting in the official transfer of the registered brand names that were still under Omega's control.

During the 1950s to 1960s, Helvetia flourished in the era of dress watches, characterized by slim profiles and sophisticated aesthetics. The brand's dress watches from this period showcased exquisite craftsmanship and attention to detail - this example being no exception

Notably, Helvetia introduced the reference 64 movements, which were renowned for their precision and durability. Introduced during the 1950s, this hand-wound sub-second movement was renowned for its exceptional accuracy and reliability. The movement shows many similarities to contemporary Omega movements.

The caliber 64 movement emerged shortly after the introduction of the 830 family and showcased Helvetia's adaptability to the changing trends of the time. A larger 13.5 Ligne size reflected the growing preference for larger watches, while the caliber 64 movement was thinner than its predecessor, the 82C, making it ideal for slim dress watches of the era. With a frequency of 18,000 vibrations per hour, it provided precise timekeeping and powered numerous Helvetia timepieces.

This piece has a serial number on the inside back cover dating it to 1955:

I found this piece in a second-hand shop in Århus, and was drawn by its wonderfully patinaed dial, rose gold hands and markers and large sub-second dial. It's 35 mm was large for the time, and the narrow bezel makes it wear larger - it would certainly have stood out in the post-war years!

The movement is pristine, starts up with a few winds of the crown and is still accurate to within seconds a day - internal markings indicate that this watch was serviced and maintained. Fitted to an olive drab NATO strap this watch becomes informal, with the rose gold hands and markers highlighted by the contrasting olive green of the strap, but can quickly be transformed to a formal dress watch by fitting a dark brown Horween leather strap.

Rolex 1603 Sigma Linen dial - so... when is a dial rare?

I recently liquidized a fair portion of my vintage Seiko watch collection to acquire my first steel vintage Rolex - 1967 Rolex reference 1603 Sigma Linen dial. I chose it specifically for the "rare" combination of 1603-specific stainless steel machined bezel (most DateJusts have the white gold fluted bezel; reference 1601), pie-pan textile-like "linen" dial (most DateJusts do not have textured dials), and white gold "Sigma" indices and hands (most DateJusts have steel indices and hands). I like the utilitarian look and resilience of an all-steel DateJust (especially on an Oyster bracelet with the discretion (and corrosion resistance) of white gold hands and indices:

During my pre-acquisition search phase, I saw a Chrono24 ad calling a linen dial a "rare piece" and speculated what the definition of "rare piece" is. After some thought, I defined "rare" as:

A watch I can expect to see "once-or-less-in-a-lifetime" by chance 

...and had a basis to determine whether the combination 1603+Sigma+Linen is rare - or not.

I started with the date range of 160X four-digit Datejusts (1960 to 1979) and the serial numbers starting and ending this range (0,5M to 5.7M) for all references which gave 5M pieces produced, assumed (optimistically) 40% of all Rolexes made in this period were DateJusts (2M 16XX) produced of which half (1M) remain. I then checked Chrono24 to see the distribution of the various 160X references and dial types: 30% were 1603s, 4% 1603 Sigma, 3% 1603 Linen and 0.4% were 1603 Sigma + Linen dials. 

So - are the 4.000 remaining 1603 Sigma+Linen dials "rare" (by my definition)? 

Well, assuming 8B people globally and 4000 1603 Sigma+Linen dials, my calculation suggests there will be 2 million people for every 1603 Sigma+Linen (or 3 in Denmark -pop.6M - where I live). I asked Google how many people faces (or in this context - watch faces :-) I will see in a lifetime (ie. be within eye-identification-of-the-watch-on-their-wrist distance) and the estimate was 1,5M people. And with that, we have the number of 1603s I can expect to see in a lifetime as:

(1603: 56; 1603 Sigma: 8; 1603 Linen: 6 and 1603 Sigma+Linen: 0.75)

From this, I deduce that there might be 3 or so 1603 Sigma+Linen dials in Denmark (population about 6 million) but I'll be lucky to see one in a chance encounter in my lifetime... 

Of course, I'll now probably see a 1603 Sigma+Linen dial in the queue in Aldi tomorrow, and another next Thursday... I'll keep you posted!

1967 Rolex DateJust 1603 Steel Chronometer, Piepan Sigma Linen Dial

As an avid collector of 1960's Seiko watches, I have focused on the attributes that make Seiko watches attractive to me: the solid build quality which allowed these pieces to survive and be useable after more than 50 years, the cross-compatibility and availability of donor movements for maintenance and repair, industry-leading innovation, long and colorful brand history, classic design elements and extensive information available through books, forums, and blog posts.

One other brand provides all of the above and adds an additional attribute: a superlative brand image. That brand is Rolex. 

My passion for watches was kindled reading Rolex advertisements on the back cover of National Geographic as a youngster back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and an aspirational dream was born to one day own a Rolex.

Life - and priorities - came in the way, but the aspirational dream remained. Eventually, I was able to indulge in the watch passion, and vintage Seiko offered an affordable entry into vintage watches. I read, researched, and blogged my way into building up themed collections, which I traded up for fewer, better pieces, but Rolex prices kept increasing, and the brand remained at arm's length for me. 

After nearly 20 years of collecting I was finally in a position to celebrate a professional aspiration (two years of successful self-employment), sold much of my existing collection, and acquired my first vintage Rolex: a 1967 Rolex DateJust 1603 with linen dial and 18K white gold coronet, markers  (sigma dial) and hands and stainless engine-turned bezel:

The 36mm Oyster case is a perfect size - perhaps THE perfect size for a "gentleman's steel wristwatch" and together with the jubilee bracelet, engine-turned bezel, and cyclops date lens possibly the quintessential Rolex wristwatch. The steel engine-turned bezel is a discrete, sober alternative to the shinier 18K white gold fluted bezel of the contemporary reference 1601 DateJust.

The chronometer-certified 26 jewel 1575 automatic movement running at 19800 bph is currently within 1 second a day - a tribute to the precision and durability of a 53-year-old watch. Much of this precision comes from the trademark Rolex free-sprung balance and Breguet overcoil which are less susceptible to positional variation and state of wind than conventional fixed-inertia regulator balances. Together with automatic winding, vintage Rolexes tend to be awesomely precise, decade after decade!

The trademark of the DateJust is the instantaneous date changeover at midnight, facilitated by a spring-loaded jeweled yoke operating a cam mounted on the reverse of the calendar wheel. The date function on these vintages is non-quickset and requires you to invest a few minutes and quite a bit of hand-turning to change the date, but this is an acceptable compromise allowing you to own a pie-pan linen sigma dial only found on these vintage four-number series pieces from the 1960s and early seventies... it's the price of admission to an exclusive club!

While much of the robustness comes from the overengineered 1575 movement, the classic Oyster case with its trademark screw-down case back and screw-down crown provides a water-and dustproof environment that has protected the movement and dial from the ingress of the elements for more than half a century.

Vintage Rolex watches are far from cheap, but is the price justified? For me it most definitely is. The 1603 Datejust is a "portable, tangible asset".

To be able to purchase this watch, I had to release ten vintage Seiko pieces from the collection I had carefully curated over the last 10 years. While it took me six months to sell my Seiko pieces and realize my initial investment in them, there are always ready buyers for a vintage DateJust, especially for less-common variants with linen- or sigma dials, and prices have steadily increased - doubling over the last decade, corresponding to a very reasonable 7% return on investment.

Tangible assets are however more than financial investments. In the DateJust I attained my aspirational goal, a watch that speaks to me, connecting me to my boyhood dreams and lifting my spirits every time I wear it. 

 

In a single watch, I have a design icon that defines the canon of perhaps the greatest design generation - 1950-60s RayBan Wayfarers, Levi 501s, Zippo lighters, Porsche 911s... and the Rolex DateJust.

As a design icon, the DateJust is perfect for everything from a t-shirt and jeans to a formal business suit, and as a portable asset I can - unlike say a classic car - wear and enjoy it, and have it lift my spirits all day, every day.

So yes, a vintage DateJust is absolutely worth it. 

Check out my Instagram profile for more pictures and impressions:

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