1961 Automatic K-418

There were a number of "one-year wonders" introduced in the 1960's, or watches that were only produced for a single year.  I sometimes wonder if Hamilton was pulling out all the stops and putting anything that would tick on the market or if their marketing folks were so in tuned with what customers wanted that they killed things that didn't sell well.  Maybe it was a little of both?

Another theory is a shift in their supply base as they moved away from 1950's era Swiss watch movements and into 1960's grades from different makers.  The 1960's designs allowed for thinner watches, which may have been more fashionable.  That's probably a more plausible theory.

A good example is the 1961 Automatic K-418.  It was only produced in 1961 and it was one of the last years to use the Kurth Freres 667 movement.  Most of the automatics in the 1960's were micro-rotors from Buren or ETA-based grades.

The K-418 has a 10K gold filled case, as you would assume since it's a 400 series watch.  The embossed dial is unique because it has a golden ring on the outside perimeter as well as a field of raised rings in the center.  The watch features luminous hands and dots outside the hour markers.

Tucked inside the case is a Hamilton 667 movement.  This movement looks a lot like the 661 that was very prevalent in the earlier automatic models.

The 667 is the grade found in one of the most rare Automatics... the Pacermatic, which is an electric Pacer case with an automatic inside.  If you ever come across a Pacermatic, make sure it's not a fake. The best way to tell is the serial number of the case.  Pacermatics have case serial numbers in the 528500-528800 range and 637700-638200 range so there were only 800 total made.

My project K-418 arrived in relatively good order.  The lugs have a little wear to the inside thanks to a metal bracelet.  The crown is worn smooth - it's so small that I doubt it's original, but maybe.

It's a little hard to read, but the back is engraved with a name and the date "1964".  That's interesting, since the watch was produced three years earlier.

The 667 inside appears to be in good order but I'm sure it will benefit from a trip to the spa.

As you can see, there are a lot of parts to these watches.  There are a variety of different screws too and I think it's interesting how often I find the wrong screw in the wrong place.  You can see I spilled a little of my luminous powder on the cloth as I relumed the hands when everything was in the ultrasonic.

One of the tricky parts to reassembling this style of movement is to get the train bridge on.  Three wheels have to be lined up at once... the 4th wheel in the center, the 3rd wheel to the below right and the silver escape wheel just to the left.  Some of the nickel plating on the main plate has been lost to time.

In the shot below, this is the angle that I have to look in order to tweak the wheels and get their respective pivots into each corresponding jewel in the train bridge.  The bridge will fall into place when everything is lined up.  If it's line up correctly, when I spin the center wheel, all four wheels will whirl around.

After the train bridge is on, I can put on pallet fork (left) and the barrel bridge along with the winding wheel and ratchet wheels (right).

Next to go back on is the balance assembly.  With a few turns to the mainspring, the watch will start running if the balance is in the right place.

The now-running movement goes onto the timer.  Nothing too shabby about this watch.  The amplitude of 183 is a little low, but I didn't fully wind the watch yet.

Now that the watch is running, I can put on the rest of the parts that are needed for the automatic mechanism, there's a rotor carrier as well as a clutch wheel.  The clutch is just below the winding wheel in the shot below.  It enables the watch to wind in only one direction, but allows the rotor to move in either direction.

The rotor carrier can be a bugger to get back on.  There are three moveable connection points that have to be properly aligned for the carrier to seat.  It takes a little finesse to get all three lined up at the same time.

The crown needs to be replaced but the stem is pretty rusty too.  It's not terrible, but I'll replace it with a new one when I install a new crown.

The dial and hands go back on and the movement goes back in to the case.  The new stem is too long  and will need to be trimmed to just the right length.

The best way to hold a stem for trimming is with a pin vice.  I have found that when trimming stems it's best to leave them a little long and slowly work your way to the perfect length.  Too short means you have to start over.

Success.

With the movement running and back in the case, the last thing to go back on is the rotor, aka, the oscillating weight.  As this part swings around on the red jewel, it winds the watch.

The rotor drops in place and is held in place by the little toggle switch above the arrow.

A new crystal and strap complete the overhaul.  The finish on the dial is a little lighter on the right side - I suspect that's the effect of moisture coming through the stem.  It's not obvious though.  I wonder if cleaning the dial would make it look more even but this is a classic "know when to stop" situation.  I could just as easily ruin this dial by cleaning it any further.  It's not perfect, but it's 50+ years old, so not being perfect is okay.

1962 Accumatic A-500

If you've followed my blog or are just knowledgeable about Hamilton watches in general, then you've surely noticed that Hamilton wasn't very creative with how it named Automatic models.  Sure they throw you some curve balls with things like the Rotomatic and the Astramatic line - but for the most part they just numbered them with three digit numbers.  The first number is the case material and I think the second number may be relevant since there are a lot of "X5X" models but from there it doesn't really seem to make much sense.  At least it's not obvious to me, anyway.

To underscore that point, I think it's interesting that some Hamilton models with lower numbers where introduced after models with higher numbers.  It's not common, but it did happen.

For example, there's the 1962 Accumatic A-500.  It was introduced a year after the Accumatic A-501.  Sort of makes you wonder what happened... was it delayed for some reason or was it just a matter of chance?  Regardless, the A-500 was produced for only two years so you don't see them terribly often.

The A-500 comes in a stainless steel case.  It's considered "waterproof" since it has a gasket on the screw-off case back and the crown - but I would never take a vintage watch near the water.  Actually, I wouldn't take a modern waterproof watch into the water either - but that's just me.

Tucked inside a A-500 I would expect to see a Hamilton 689 movement - although my recent project watch below has a 679 movement.  Both were made by ETA and they look VERY similar.  The 689 is based on an ETA 2451 while the 679 is based on an ETA 2465.  They look pretty much the same to me but there must be something inside that makes them different.

Anyway, you can expect to see either a 689 or 679 inside.

My A-500 project watch came from a fellow collector who needed some help with it.  As received you might say it had "good bones" which is a nice way to saying, "boy is that watch ugly".  The dial was either very dirty, very corroded or both.  Of course, the heavily scratched crystal wasn't helping things.  But it did run - so all was not lost.

I was glad to see the screw-off back - I prefer that to single piece cases.  Single piece cases are always a little intimidating to get the movement out... you don't want to break the two-piece stem.  Although sometimes these screw off case backs can be a real bugger to open as well... so it's a tough call.  I guess it's sort of a "pick your poison" decision.

This one opened right up without any difficulty at all.  The movement inside looks to be relatively clean and rust free - so whatever effected the dial didn't impact the movement - which is lucky.

Without the crystal in the way, you can see that the embossed dial is dirty.  The second hand actually has some lint wrapped around the post.  The lacquer on the dial has failed and peeled away around the outside perimeter.  Other than that, it looks great (ha ha!).

While everything is being cleaned, I'll gently clean up the dial.  You have to be VERY careful when the lacquer has failed - as the next thing to go is the printing and then you're screwed.  I've learned and relearned time and again that you have to know when to say when and to stop cleaning before it's too late.

I've also learned that when a dial looks better wet than it does dry, that a "poor-man's refinish" is a good option.  If a dial looks like crap when it's dry, you probably should consider getting it refinished - and in that case, going the poor man's route won't do any harm.

By poor man's refinish, I mean a very quick and light spray of fresh lacquer.  You can get this from any craft store and it's the sort of thing you'd use on model airplanes, and such.  A little goes a long way and you can see below that after the lacquer dries, the dial looks much better.  It's not perfect, but it's not expensive to do either and the dial is technically still "original".

All the parts are thoroughly cleaned and dried before being reassembled.  I'll also install a new GS PHD (high dome) crystal with a 29.8mm diameter.

You can often see the grade of the movement stamped under the balance wheel, along with the maker.    You can see this is a 2465 movement made by ETA.  Back in the day, ETA was an ebauche maker (they still are)... meaning they produced partially made movements that other watch companies would finish and customize.  That's good to know when you need a part, as that part could just as easily come from a Benrus as from a Hamilton.

The movement is reassembled and running so it goes onto the timer.  I'll put the oscillating weight (aka rotor) onto the movement later.  It's easier to make adjustments when the rotor is out of the way.

Everything is running nicely.  I'll leave it running slightly fast for now, as they tend to slow down slightly after a while.

With the movement doing it's thing, I can turn my attention to the rotor carrier.  There aren't that many parts to it, really, but they have to go in the right place and in the right orientation or it won't work properly.

It's ready to be dropped back onto the movement and secured in place with two screws.

Everything appears to be back where it belongs and functioning properly so now I just need to install the dial and hands and put it back in the case.

And here's the finished project.  I think it turned out very well and much better than I thought it was going to based on how rough the dial was at the beginning.  The dial doesn't look new by any stretch of the imagination but I bet you wouldn't guess how bad it was if you didn't see it at the start.  This watch is now ready for another 50 years of faithful service.

WWII Hamilton H-37500 Elapsed Time Clock

By far the coolest and most complicated Hamilton clock I've ever laid hands or eyes on is the WWII-era H-37500 Elapsed Time Clock.  This specialized clock was designed for the US Navy for use in the F-4U Corsair as well as several other platforms.  It also goes by the part number AN-5741-1.

Although the H-37500 was first produced in 1944 - it was used on various platforms into the 1980's, including on US Navy P-3 Orions.

So what's so cool about the H-37500?  Well - it is an 8-day, 16 jewel movement with two mainsprings.  It has 5 different registers that do things like indicate the date, serve as a stopwatch, track elapsed time, and of course, tell the time of day.  That's pretty cool - right?

Well how about installing it behind a 2,000 horsepower motor, sending it into harms way, landing it hard - day after day onto a carrier deck and then leaving it the rain and blistering sun 24x7?  There are over 400 parts inside that make the clock "do it's thing" so overhauling one of these bad boys is not a do it yourself project.

You can see it in the upper right of the cockpit photo below.

The clock was jointly developed for the military by Hamilton and Elgin.  So you can find the Hamilton H-37500 or the Elgin E-37500.  They are largely identical - although you can bet the Hamilton version is better (ha ha!).

Accurately measuring elapsed time is a critical part of navigation.  Imagine taking off from a carrier, flying a few hundred miles, kicking the crap out of the enemy and then having to make your way back to the carrier at a different location without running out of fuel.  You'd need to know how long you'd been flying and in what direction in order to have any prayer of getting to where you wanted to go.

I've wanted to get one of these for a long time.  They are readily available but I wanted to get one that was already in good shape and not too much of a project for me.  Call me a wuss, if you will, but I draw the line at say, 50 parts.  416 is way too complicated for me to figure out on my own.

You can tell by looking at the clock that it's meant to be installed in the instrument panel.  Although it's quite capable of standing upright on it's own.  There are different dial patterns, depending on the installation of the watch.  Sometimes they are white on black.  In my case, it's the WWII green and yellow pattern that shows up well when UV lamps illuminated the cockpit instruments at night.

The clock is secured inside a gasketed case.  There's a screw-off plug that gives access to the regulator if the beat rate needs to be adjusted - that way you don't need to unscrew the myriad fasteners that hold it all together.

I couldn't help myself, I had to open it up and see what makes this watch tick - literally.  Here's some shots of the inside.

I think I can honestly say that if I took this clock apart I would comfortably have 20 extra parts left over when I was finished trying to get it back together.  There is a repair manual though, AN05-35A-11, should you feel the itch to tackle one yourself.

Going back to the front - I'll give you an orientation of what does what.  The knob on the lower left winds the watch.  Just turn it clockwise and you're off to the races.  The dial is a 24-hour dial so 12-noon has the hour hand pointing down.  The register on the left is the date - so when the hour hand goes around the dial once, the date will index to the next day.  The little "set" button next to the winding knob will index the date one position when it's depressed.

The knob on the upper right actuates the chronometer (stop watch).  Push it and it will start the stop watch.  The large second hand in the center (pointed at 14)  is the second hand for the chronometer.  The little green hand in the small right register is the clock's second hand. When the chronometer second hand goes around one minute, the yellow hand in the upper register will index one space and will continue for 60 minutes.  If you push the upper right knob again it will stop the chronometer and pushing it a third time will reset it to zero.

The register at the bottom is the elapsed time indicator.  This 12-hour register is a stop watch too.  There is no second hand though, just a minute and hour hand.  If you push the winding knob on the lower left, it will start this function.  Since there's no second hand, the indicator dot will switch to red - to tell you the elapsed time indicator is running.

If you push the winding knob again, the elapsed time indicator will stop and the window switches to yellow and red.  Pushing it a third time will return it to zero and the window switches to yellow.

Although my clock has been serviced, it was running about 70 seconds slow per day on my timer.  That was an easy fix though - as just a tweak to the regulator got it running right in line with a good amplitude and low beat error.

I bought my clock from Historic Aviation Supply - they did a fantastic job on this clock and I'd highly recommend them if you're in the market for something similar or need some help with yours.  Check them out at http://historicaviationsupply.com/pages/hamilton-37500