It’s roughly ten minutes to two and I’m laying in my bed. I don’t smoke and don’t plan to start, but I’m sure a cigarette would do me well now. My trusty (somewhat) Kienzle travel alarm clock is wound up and running next to my ear. It’s loud, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m used to the sound of a mechanical clock and I’m still waiting for my Hermle mantel clock to be shipped. It’s dark. It’s another cold South African winter night, but it’s slowly warming up after a cold front. I hate that I’ve already lost a few hours which should’ve been spent on sleep. Ag, it’s holiday, I don’t give a rat’s arse about my sleep cycle or what time I get up, so long as it’s early enough to pay the watchmaker a visit.
About half an hour ago, I finished servicing an Oris calibre 461. It was a donor for my Oris military watch, but I was just itching to service a watch. I was kind of spurred on by one of Alex Hamilton’s (Watch Repair Tutorials on YouTube) tips, pegging. Embarrassingly, it caught my attention only because it shares its name with a fetish/kink. I imagined myself narrating my service like this: “pegging is something that all watchmakers should know how to handle… it cleans out the holes… it is pointless without proper lubrication.” It sounded funnier in my head. Now that it’s typed out, I feel that it just makes me look like a sinister pervert. If you’re not familiar with pegging, (outside of the watchmaking context) leave it that way.
Recently, I have taken to listening to music while watchmaking. Well, I always have, but I have played Max Richter’s entire discography ad nauseum, Bach doesn’t do all too much for me, the same goes for the gross majority of other classical musicians/composers. I’m a thoroughbred metalhead, but Marilyn Manson, Slipknot and whatever other bands I listen to (doesn’t matter, purists all say it isn’t “real metal” anyway; they can piss off) doesn’t provide the right state of mind to work on a precision instrument. They relax me, but it’s a different sort of relaxation than that provided by classical music, if that makes any sense. Through a writing project (I have the draft of a novel set in Ethiopia) I had discovered Ethiopian music. I’ve been an Ethio-pop fanatic for about a year now. I don’t speak Amharic. I have never been to Ethiopia ever. A handful of coincidences and specific events somehow led me to this, which I love to reminisce about. If it wasn’t for a random book idea with a random setting and the decision to learn more about my book’s setting’s cultures, I would never have come across some artists I now consider my favourites.
While working on the Oris, I listened to Hewan Gebreworld’s 2022 album Hewan. I watched a documentary on YouTube about it, which gave me an even deeper understanding of this music sung in a language I don’t speak. Music’s all about feeling, I don’t even need to understand the lyrics, at least that’s what some pretentious homeless guy told me. It’s different from what a lot of other Ethiopian artists do in that the album definitely has a more “Western” sound. It’s probably what I would recommend to someone who wants to get into Ethio-pop, tied with Haleluya Tekletsadik’s Tewedaj vol. 1, which was the album that kickstarted my obsession. I’m still waiting for a new album to be released and when it inevitably is released, my inner fanboy will come out.
I pegged the Oris. It was a process that I had forgotten about, but it made sense and seemed to clean all of the holes better. The movement has a broken balance staff and a broken setting lever spring. The broken setting lever spring came from my Oris; this movement had an intact one that I swopped over. I hope my watchmaker has a suitable replacement. The balance staff is what I’m worried about, as without the setting lever spring, the watch will still run, but setting the time requires the crown to be put in the second position manually by means of constant pulling. I’ve lived with that for many months with my Oris, so I won’t mind making peace with the same phenomenon again just to have another working Oris. The dial is also messed up and the crystal yellowed, but intact. I’m just trying to make something out of a heap of spares. It’s not going to be pretty, but I’m hoping to get something working so that I can either throw it in my watch box or pass it on to recoup some money.
Watchmaking is beautiful. I think of it constantly. I really am addicted, as I need to service a movement every now and then. That’s why I’m in this mess, the withdrawals were just too much. Come what may at the watchmaker, spares or not, I have a Certina 25-651 already keeping my workbench/desk warm. That needs a service and the cannon pinion needs to be tightened. That one has loads of jewels for pegging.
I have limited tools. I made myself a set of hand levers as I have grown tired of using blunt screwdrivers. Taking hands off is less risky now. I’m pleased with myself, despite hand levers being nothing more than brass rods with a curved cut in them. I want more tools. I have the insatiable desire to do my job better. Sure, the ultrasonic cleaner and benzine jars work well for me, but I wonder how much better a watch cleaning machine will be. Regulating a watch by looking at the regulator arm and sayings “eh, that looks alright,” has given me acceptable results, but I wonder what a timegrapher will do. I’m happy with my tweezers and screwdrivers, although I feel the need for another pair or tweezers so that I can start fixing hairsprings.
I can’t finance all of this, but while ruminating on that thought, I realised that being a teenager without a steady source of income has actually done a lot for me. I’m usually less impulsive… well, it’s not because I have self-control, but rather because I can’t afford to be impulsive. I have also learnt how to make things work. If I have a problem, I’ll try to solve it with what I have. No gasket oiler? I’ll just glue some sponges to a tin. No pin vice? A Dremel can grip some of the larger parts, making cleaning and polishing fairly simple. No bluing pan? I haven’t thought about that one yet.
Fast forward a bit and it’s the next day. It’s twenty past ten and I still need to clean up my workbench. That Certina movement that I planned to service went to shit. Firstly, the barrel shot out of my hands while taking out the very dirty mainspring. Then I inserted the mainspring in the barrel upside down. I had a picture in front of me, so it was a stupid miscalculation by my eyes and hands. I’ve been breathing in too much benzine. I had a nosebleed earlier. Physically, I am a little tired, mentally, this movement hit me hard. The mainspring is now thoroughly destroyed. I never really learnt how to cope with loss and failure; self-destructive behaviour was my go-to for far too long, I am pleased to say that it has been at least a month since I last put a blade to my skin. Instead of breaking this streak, I turned the ruined mainspring into a bracelet of sorts. It’s the symbolism that counts. Something about wearing a reminder of my shortcomings is poetic.
I still can’t cope with failure. It’s just ingrained in my head that I need to be perfect all of the time. I can’t and I hate myself for that. I don’t know whether I hate my constant expectation of perfection or my inability to achieve constant perfection more. I’m a perfectionist, but some days I wish I wasn’t.
I was at the watchmaker today and he does not have any of the Oris spares I need. Oh well. My Oris military watch needed a service, which I did. I filmed myself doing it, although I’ll likely do nothing with the video as it would make the longest and worst watch servicing video ever. The watch now runs well. It struggled at first, but it seems to have improved now. It’s a seventy-year-old seven-jewel pin-pallet movement, so I can’t expect excellent performance. So long as it runs, I’m happy. I sanded the seconds hand down to get rid of the corrosion. It’s now a gold colour. I could paint it red to match how it likely originally came, but it’ll be a while before I bother to do that. The result will likely be sloppy anyway.
So that’s a blog post for you. Two days of watchmaking. It’s great fun, but I’m still a little heavy-hearted at the loss of the Certina mainspring. It was a donor movement for a watch I don’t own, so I’m just telling myself that it was no great loss. Servicing my Oris wasn’t east either. It sucked. It was stressful. I shouldn’t have filmed myself doing it. You live and you learn. Come what may, I still love watchmaking. I love it with all of my heart. It’s my biggest semblance of hope in this sick game called life. I’m trying to make the most of my holidays by servicing as many movements as I can. It’s either the most rewarding or most punishing feeling I can know. Don’t mistake this post as me feeling sorry for myself, my life is good; I have been dealt a good hand. I guess that’s what this blog is about, how watches play a role in navigating the great big world.
That Certina movement could have exploded and burnt me, but I will never stop loving watchmaking. Take care all.
The Escapement Room 