1965 M-65-2

One of the interesting niches of vintage Hamilton watches is the M-series.  M stands for Men's and there's an F series as well, for the fairer sex.  They're known to exist but not well documented.  However, they do show up in the 1964 catalog... or at least 12 of them do. 

The M series is believed to have been introduced in 1961 and produced through 1969.  As far as I'm aware, there are 26 M-series models and you can see the 12 that were available in 1964.

Conventional wisdom, or at least my opinion, is the model line was intended for a nation-wide distribution partner.  If you're old enough, you might recall the pre-internet days of catalog stores like Service Merchandise or Best, among others.  These nation-wide chains sold fine jewelry, and the like, through both catalogs and physical stores where you could shop the catalogs and the staff would pull the items from their storeroom.   I have yet to find any advertisements that prove this theory or identify the retail partner, but you can spot an M (or F) series model in the wild when it comes with it's original box - as the box is red.

The nomenclature behind the M series models is not very complicated.  M is for mens and the numbers represent the retail price and the count of that model at that price.  So for example, the first M series model offered at $59 was the M 59-1, the next model at that price would be the M 59-2.

My most recent M series project is an M 65-2.  It's known to be shown in the 1965 price lists but not in the regular retail catalog.  It's artistic rendering leaves a little to the imagination.

The M 65-2 was the second model priced at $65.  It was offered in a 10K RGP bezel with a stainless steel back.

My real life version is true to the rendering, as you can see below.  It looks pretty good but it's not running.  It is fully wound and that brings up an interesting term... "over wound".  That term gets used a LOT and it's a bit of a pet peeve of mine.  The term is valid in certain time pieces, like clocks, when it's wound a little too far to actually release power through the train... like it's jammed.  However, in watches, the "click" prevents the mainspring from jamming like that.  

So an "over wound" watch isn't running because it's been wound too much, it's just not running for some other reason.  I would liken it to a car that won't start, even though the gas tank is full.  It's not "over filled", it just won't start for some reason.

Anyway, there's lots of reasons for a watch to not run... it could be as simple as the minute hand touching the 1 marker or the second hand touching the hour hand.  (that's not the cause for this watch though).

Looking closely at the stainless steel back, I can see a seam between the back and the front so I suspect this case separates.  You have to be really careful though, as often this sort of design opens through the crystal.

My instincts were correct, and the two halves separated easily.  The dial and movement rests within the case back and I should be able to simply lift it out at this point.

Tucked behind the dial is a Hamilton 686 movement.  This is a pretty common Hamilton caliber for entry-level Hamiltons in the 1960s for models with sub seconds hands.  $65 wasn't "cheap" in 1965.  Adjusted for inflation, that's about $700 in today's dollars... pretty much in line with today's Hamilton entry-level models.

There was a little bit of a rattle inside the case.  I think it was simply the movement assembly wigging in the case.  A new crystal is a little thicker then what came with the watch (right), so I'll see if that helps to tighten things up after reassembly.

Everything is cleaned and dried.  Well.... almost everything.  After I took this photo I realized the pallet fork was missing.  After a few minutes of searching, I found the pallet fork on the floor.  It must have dropped during the transfer process from rinse to rinse.

I've got the movement reassembled to the point that power flows smoothly through the wheel train.  Next step is to wind it up and reinstall the balance.

I installed the balance and it wouldn't come back to life.  I realized it's way out of beat... meaning the impulse jewel isn't lined up with the pallet for.  Check out the photo below and the position of the impulse jewel (at 9 o'clock) and the hairspring stud at about 11:30.

Installed on the movement, note the hairspring stud is almost in alignment with the pallet arbor and escape wheel.  Instead, the impulse jewel should be aligned with them, so this balance needs to be rotated counterclockwise about 45 degrees.  That would definitely explain why this watch was not running.

In the photo below I made a best-guess adjustment to put me in the ball park.  The only way to tell for sure will be with the timer.

With the balance closer to being in beat, the watch comes back to life and is ticking away with a good motion.  Now I can install the balance jewels in the balance cock and then check the timing.

Well... it's running really slow but the beat error is good and the amplitude is fine too.  Fortunately that's an easy adjustment, I just have to move the regulator and "shorten" the hairspring.

A tweak here and a tweak there... eventually I bring the beat rate in line.  Note the difference in position of the regulator relative to the hairspring stud.  I moved it quite a way.

Now the beat rate is fine but I moved the balance out of beat a little.  So now I just have to tweak the hairspring stud again.

It didn't take too much, as you can see if you compare the photo below with the one above.   I have no idea why this balance was so far out of adjustment.

Regardless, now everything is looking good to go... a couple of further tweaks brought the beat error down to near-zero.

Welp... I went to install the dial and hands and the balance stopped.  I took the balance off and the gear train was locked up.  What happened?

Looking closely, I could see the escape wheel was out of position.  Did I break a pivot?  Is one of the jewel broken?  It was a good opportunity to use a new tool I recently acquired... it's microscope with a large screen so I can see what I'm doing with great ease.

Looking at the escape wheel jewel on the main plate, everything looks fine.

Looking at the jewel on the train bridge, I can see it's not cracked but then I realized it's missing the cap jewel.  This is another great reason why the watch would be dead on arrival and not running.

I pulled out a donor 686 and you can see there should be a shock spring and cap jewel on the escape wheel jewel.  At this point I can swap jewels or just swap bridges.  I'll go the easier route and just swap jewels.

Alrighty then... back to the drawing board and after cleaning the new bridge, I start the reassembly process.

The reassembled movement is now running again.

The performance is the same as it was before - that's not surprising though, it's the balance that counts the most and the train bridge was nice and clean.

It was smooth sailing from this point and the reassembled watch looks great behind the fresh crystal.  It still had a tiny bit of rattle though so I put a teensy dollop of rodico putty between the dial and case back to dampen any movement.  Now it's as tight as a drum, and it runs as good as it looks.

1956 Accumatic

Sometimes Hamilton watches come with a bit of a mystery... especially when come across two of them.  

This post gets to a good example of a mystery model.  Back in 2015 I had the same situation and I called it the 1956 Accumatic.

The Accumatic introduced a new line of automatic models to supplement the K-series that was introduced earlier.  The Accumatic model line really was a continuation of the Illinois automatics that were introduced even earlier - so you could say the Accumatic line came first, depending on what you called the starting point.

The Accumatic was followed initially by the Accumatic II, Accumatic III, etc. all the way up to the Accumatic XI before being continued with numbers like the Accumatic A-501 starting in 1961.  The Accumatic line continued on into the 1970s, long after the K-series ended.

The original Accumatic was produced from 1956 through 1958.  It was distinctive because of the "flying saucer" case but also because of the dial options.  And here is where it gets interesting.

Here's a photo of the Accumatic with the all-numeral dial option shown in the catalog depiction.  If the case looks familiar, it should.  A similar lug shape was used on the design of the 1955 K-503. 

The similarities are definitely there but as you can see in the photo below of a K-503, the bezel isn't an exact match. 

So what is it that makes the Accumatic so different?  Mainly it's the movement inside... the Accumatic line uses ETA movements while the Automatic K series used Kurth Freres movements (primarily).  That means that if you have a mystery watch with an ETA movement, it's going to be an Accumatic of some ilk.

Of course, ETA made different versions of automatic calibers and continues to do so to power today's modern Hamilton watches.  I suppose you could safely argue that the Accumatic is the great great grandpappy of all Hamilton automatics today.

So onto my project watch.  As I said above, it's the exact same setup as my 2015 watch.  It's an Accumatic dial and movement in a case with slightly different lugs.  The Speidel bracelet is a 1970s aftermarket add on and can be safely disposed of, although it does have one of those funny analog calendar scroll do-dads, which is interesting.

The case back is the same setup as the 1958 Sea-Glo I recently did.  It's a pie-pan disc held in place with a screw-on ring.  They can be tricky to remove if they are secured by layer after layer of "old man funk".  This one is engraved with a presentation from 1958... in keeping with the time frame for Accumatics.  If you peruse the catalogs, there are no other options that utilize this case.  Having now found two examples in the wild, I think you can safely say that this is an Accumatic variation.

Tucked inside the case is a Hamilton 672 movement.  This is the same caliber Illinois models used and clearly dates this watch to 1958 or earlier.  Again, by 1958 you only had a small handful of Accumatic models to choose from and this doesn't match the Accumatic II through V.

Black dialed watches are interesting.  The green lume is an obvious add on.  The appropriate color would be white.  The black dots at the numerals are spent radium lume paint.   Part of the challenge with black dials is if you attempt to clean them they usually turn gray - so you have to be really careful with them.

With the dial out of the way, you can see the business end of the movement.  It's a classic ETA design.

Once the automatic framework is removed, you're left with essentially a Hamilton 671 like what was in the Sea Glo.  The difference would be the mainspring and mainspring barrel.  

Everything is cleaned and ready to reassemble.  I relumed the hands with white lume and the dial too.  Before doing the dial, I treated it to a "poor man's refinish" and gave it a light spritz of lacquer after removing the old radium in my watch rinse.

Like the 671, the trick to this movement is to get the train bridge back in place.  It's not as difficult and the later ETA movements with four wheel pivots to align - but it still takes some finesse to get the bridge to drop on place so all the wheels spin freely.

Once the movement is reassembled and wound up a bit, the balance comes back to life and it can go on the timer.

Not too shabby at all.  I can tweak it a smidgeon from here.

The finished watch looks great with a fresh strap and a new crystal.  The new lume looks a little like new shoelaces on old sneakers but it's a load better than what I started with.  Applying lume, especially to dials, is very challenging.  At least it will glow in the dark again.

1958 Sea-Glo

The first "sea something" was the 1957 Seabrook.  Over the next 15 years there would be almost 50 models with Sea in the name somewhere.  I don't know what the origin story is for the theme, but there surely has to be a reason for it.  Perhaps it's because most of them were "waterproof"?

In 1958 the Sea-Glo was introduced.  It was listed in the 1958, 1959, 1960, and 1961 catalogs and nothing changed from year to year, not even the price.  By 1961 the catalog showed "sold out", which sometimes occurred in the catalog.  Makes you wonder why you'd do that though... why list a watch and say it was unavailable?  Maybe all of the examples for that model year were already allocated, so you couldn't order it.

As you can tell from the artistic rendering, the Sea-Glo came in two dial options, white or black.  The dials were embossed with white (silver) numerals and markers and the dial has a really interesting scallop-shell pattern.  Perhaps that was keeping with the Sea-theme.

Tucked inside the case you'll find a 17 jewel Hamilton 671 movement, based on an ETA 1080 caliber.

My project watch has been patiently waiting it's turn at the spa for several years.  I've had it for a long time and it never came up in my queue, mainly because it looks like it had a three-pack-a-day cigarette habit and the white dial has a yellow-ish tan look to it.  The crystal is a bit beat up too, and that adds to it's "rode hard and put away wet" aesthetic.

Now this is interesting... the case back is my least favorite design... the old pie pan with a screw-on ring.  Actually, that's not entirely accurate... my least favorite design is the snap on case back that no longer snaps on firmly - and that can actually cover quite a few models.  However, this screw-on ring design can be a bugger to open if you don't a good case wrench.

Another reason that it's noteworthy is the Sea-Glo that I posted on back in 2013 (has it really been 13 years?) had a snap on case design.  That begs the question... in what year did the case change and which style came first?  Regardless - it would appear that the Sea-Glo came with two different case designs... go figure.

My Bergeon case wrench made short work of opening the case back... once the old grime and DNA broke free, it opened right up.  Apparently the gasket may not have been properly seated the last time it was closed - whenever that was.  It's been a while, based on the green funk inside the rim.  The movement looks fine though.  Once the stem is removed, the movement should drop out the back.

Now that the movement is outside the case, you can see the dial has an even coating of grime... notice the numerals and markers have no shine.  This is going be a judgment call... I can try to clean it but I might lose the Hamilton logo, or I can leave it as is and call it an "honest patina". Hmm....?

All the parts get disassembled and cleaned and while that's going on I decided to work on the dial with some Rodico putty.  That's basically like a cross between an eraser and silly putty.  I was able to remove a good portion of the grime and left the logo alone.

While the parts were in the cleaner, I also applied fresh luminous paint to the hands and dial so it will glow in the dark again.

The trickiest part of reassembling the movement is to get the train bridge to seat.  It's not the most difficult movement but the wheels all have long arbors and you have to get all three pivots to seat or the bridge won't go into place.  At this point, in the photo below, the wheels all spin freely - that means the power from the mainspring will flow smoothly to the pallet fork and onto the balance, once they're installed.

Next in place is the barrel and mainspring, along with the barrel bridge.  Then the pallet fork and it's bridge.  At this point I can wind the watch and once the balance is in place it should spring back to life.

My camera has captured the balance frozen in time, but it's actually ticking away with a good motion.  After over a thousand watch restorations, I've learned to judge how well a watch is running just by looking at it.  Well, that's not entirely true... I can't tell how well it's running but I can tell if it's not running well.  I still need a timer to tell how well a watch is running, and that's where the movement is headed now.

That's not too shabby...I'm going to leave it just as it is.

I have found that these old gaskets shrink if you heat them but will expand if you put them in cleaning rinse solution.  I was able to get it to soften up and take it's proper shape.  Now when I close it up, it should stay in place thanks to the compression of the threaded ring.

The last finishing touch is to replace the crystal with a fresh PHD-style.  28.5mm should do the trick.

My camera doesn't do the finished project justice.  The dial is an even honey color and the numerals and markers have a little shine to them now.  The new lume looks fine on the hands and, when charged with light, they will glow in the dark.  A fresh mocha-colored strap completes the restoration and this drawer-queen of a watch is finally ready for a little well deserved wrist time!