In The Beginning (A)

Photo: "The Scratch" by W. Bronkhorst.

I still remember my first watch, a small Casio, and how much I loved looking at the tiny light in the dark. After that came a watch with a red car on the dial, given to me for Christmas. My cousin received one just like it, and I thought it was incredibly cool that we both had the same watch. The best part was that they were truly waterproof. Later, I discovered Swatch watches and probably owned two before my uncle gave me my first chronograph, a bright yellow Caterpillar. I have owned many watches since, but those early ones are the memories that stay with me.

So here we are in the present. Smartwatches have taken over, and I am starting a blog about mechanical watchmaking. My primary focus for this blog is to document my learning about how mechanical watches keep time and how their main components fit together. I also hope to create a space where other potential watch enthusiasts can gain a basic understanding of what it takes to get started in this hobby.

To achieve this task, I have used and will continue to use online resources such as YouTube tutorials, books, and online parts catalogues. In addition, working on mechanical watches requires specialised tools, which I have started sourcing in stages from e-commerce sites, as well as a fantastic watchmaking supplier located in Ontario, but more about that in my third post.

So, watchmaking, you say. That’s kind of niche. Why watchmaking of all things?

Truth is, I can tell you that it most definitely was a horrible choice, and it may very well come back to bite me in the backside. There are a few reasons for this, and none of them are particularly reassuring.

Watchmaking is a notoriously expensive hobby. It requires a lot of patience, and it also requires an awful amount of time to master. Three things that a restless and very time-crunched person like myself do not have in abundance.

So where did it all begin, and how do I justify the expense, frustration, and time this project will require? As with most things that truly matter to us, it begins with a story.

For a second or two, lets wind back to when I was about six years old. I found an old discarded watch in my dad’s drawer and without permission, carried it to the garage to try opening the caseback with whatever tools I could find. I failed miserably and scratched the back in the process. Defeated, I returned it to the drawer, where it would remain for another twenty-five years.

As an adult, my dad one day arrived at my house and gave me a box filled with old stuff he didn’t want. Lo and behold, inside I found the watch. My dad told me that it had originally belonged to my great grandmother's husband. The scratches I made on the back were still there and it wasn't running. Of course, I had to attempt to open it again.

This time, I succeeded, using a screwdriver and a hammer. What I found inside was a masterpiece of brass wheels, tiny pivots, and ruby jewels. I was hooked. I took a photo of the movement and closed the caseback. I had to have this watch repaired.

I looked up my local jeweller, who told me that the watch was too old for them to work on, and that the only person they knew in town who might be able to help was a watchmaker who operated a tiny little watch repair store in one of the more, dare I say, seedy areas of Port Elizabeth city.

I drove there immediately and stood at the front door. Above the door were the words Tregail’s Watchmaking. The windows were dark, but the sign said open, so I went in.

Behind the counter sat a very small elderly man. Shelves around the shop were lined with clocks, from cuckoo to mantel and ordinary wall clocks. I handed him the watch and asked if he could repair it. He turned it over, noticed the scratches on the case, and slowly raised an eyebrow at me.

Till next time…