Bald Head Island - Tales of Cold War warriors and vintage Seiko's

Bald Head Island - Tales of Cold War warriors and vintage Seiko's

33.8737° N, 78.0015° W

I suppose that it was standing in the chow line, at the position of parade rest that I first noticed The Watch. I was barely 17, muddling my way through my first day at Recruit Training School. I was a junior in high school and was spending the weekend at the armory in Gunpowder Falls, Maryland in 1986. Large signs that said “Airborne” and “Special Forces” and pictures of men doing audacious and adventurous things adorned every vertical space.

Wearing my brand-new Battle Dress Uniform and hastily shined boots, I was one of a hundred or so new inductees into the Maryland Army National Guard and the 29th Infantry Division (Light). Ronald Reagan was president, and the Soviet Union was the enemy. All was right with the world, and I was going to be a soldier. Gunpowder Falls was the home of a company of National Guard Special Forces soldiers from the 20th Special Forces Group (Airborne).

 

Jack MacTavish 
These giants among men who professionally ran us through pre-basic training were clad in a mixture of old OG 107’s and the new BDU’s. Many of these men sported giant Seiko Dive Watches. I would later learn that the watch was known as the turtle and was officially a Seiko 6309. It didn’t matter to me. For me, the watch was part of being a soldier. It was a tool, one that professionals wore. It was part of the brotherhood, part of the uniform, part of the mystique of these men that I wanted to be like. It was the start of a love affair with tool watches, the basis for a passion that has spanned the decades.

Later that summer, I graduated from Basic Training. I had no need for a watch, as a drill sergeant controlled every aspect of my life. On my graduation however, flush with cash as a private E-1, one of my first stops was the post exchange where I bought a cheap Timex- not a Seiko, but damn it, it was a dive watch. Black, Waterproof. Rotating Bezel. The works. It was awesome.

Months passed. I finished high school, and soon shipped off Fort Sam Houston for training as a Combat Medic. Several of my classmates were those godlike special forces soldiers, men who would go on from 91Alpha training to 300 F1, the Special Forces Medical Sergeants Course. Most of these men wore Seiko Turtles. Heavy chunks of stainless steel with either heavy rubber straps or thick nylon NATO style bands. A freaking real bezel.

My platoon sergeant, a man who by his own admission had made his way up and down the ranks of the army several times wore a Seiko 6309 along with his stiffly starched OG 107’s. I began to look at my Timex with less than full appreciation as my desire for a real dive watch increased. Graduation came and went. I returned home from Texas to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I got a job, and immersed myself in becoming the best infantry medic that I could be. I was quickly assigned to my battalion’s scout platoon where my Vietnam veteran platoon sergeant sported an issued dive watch, probably a Benrus Type II. Not a Seiko, but really awesome. As my platoon daddy somewhat forcefully told me, it was not a watch for brand new private.

 

Huey, M65 woodland cammies, tool watches all round. Not an Apple Watch or a Garmin in sight. 

Christmas 1987 came. My Pop, a former marine handed me a small box. Weighty, but not too much. I eagerly opened it up to find a Seiko 7043-7009. It was a Pepsi- red, white, and blue. I was flabbergasted. I had not asked for one. Money was not something that was easy to come by in the home I grew up in. I had grown up watching my dad work from sunup to way past sundown building our house with his own two hands, paycheck to paycheck. For him to give me such a lavish gift was nearly unthinkable. I quickly strapped it on, and it didn’t leave my wrist for years.

 

Seiko 7043-7009
Life has gone on since then. That “First Seiko” became one of many watches, each very special in its own right. The Pepsi 7043 was my constant companion as I learned to parachute, scuba dive and rappel from helicopters. It was on my wrist during my first trip overseas to Honduras. I wore it the day I made Sergeant, and the day that I became a Lieutenant. It was with me during my first platoon command as a young officer in the 82nd Airborne Division.

It was on my wrist during dates, parties, and fights. It kept time during the long philosophical conversations over beers that one has as a young man and during that first trip to the altar. The watch counted the hours as I devoured histories, biographies, and the military and espionage thrillers written by the authors who would eventually become my literary heroes. A few years later, it was sidelined, replaced by a slightly nicer Seiko Diver, the “Second Seiko,” one with a jubilee band and a cyclops, similar to the Rolex GMT worn by my mentor and idol, a legend in the special operation’s medical community.

That “Second Seiko” stayed on my wrist through a first deployment to Haiti, graduate school and first babies. I wore it for a couple of decades. More parachuting, more adventures. War, training for war, vacations, kids, dance recitals. Promotions, commands, trials, tribulations. Victories and defeats. Triumph and tragedy. A dive watch has been a constant companion since the day I strapped on that first Seiko. Along with some version of a pocketknife, it is part of my daily uniform.

Several other watches have made appearances throughout the decades. A nice Steinhart Ocean One that dressed up my suit during my time working as a contractor in the intelligence community. It was the Steiny that was on my wrist when I finally met the love of my life at age 50, the woman who suddenly changed my life for the better. The “Second Seiko” and the Steiny have since been replaced. The “Second Seiko” is now on the wrist of my third generation United States Marine nephew. The Steinhart graces the wrist of his older brother.

 

Jack MacTavish - American, Writer and fly-fishing veteran dad. 

At 54, I have a permanent watch tan and a small dent in my wrist where the strap goes from years of never taking it off. I now primarily wear a Tudor Black Bay 58. It’s an iconic watch that harkens back it’s big brother, the Rolex submariner watches from the 1950’s. It’s a beast of a tool watch, wrapped up in a 39mm frame that fits well. It’s the watch that I wore on my last day in the Army, where surrounded by friends and family on Sicily Drop Zone, I said goodbye to my mistress of 36 years- the United States Army.

 

Jack wore a BB58 on his final day in the US Army, retiring after 36 years of service. 

The Tudor looks great with a suit, keeps time when I’m running a chainsaw or a fly rod and looks amazing paired with a nice bourbon in my hand. I’ve worn the Tudor while writing my first three novels and it is the watch that my protagonist wears. It will likely be the watch I wear for the next decade.

The “First Seiko,” the one my Pop gave me, still comes out every so often. It’s currently on my wrist now. The vintage Seiko 7043 Pepsi is on its third crystal and bezel. The lumen has been replaced with a modern upgrade. The beefy rubber strap has been replaced a dozen times, and now it wears a sporty leather strap from Watches of Espionage. The small markers that denoted the time to change the battery ran out in 1999. It is a watch that has seen some life.

 

Perhaps one of the best dive watches on the market, the 39mm Tudor Black Bay 58.

It’s unthinkable that I would venture forth without wearing a watch, specifically a dive watch, be it a Seiko, Steinhart, or Tudor. My Pop is still alive and kicking, despite the three heart attacks he’s had- all of them on boats. As of several days ago, he is a great grandfather and I’m now “Grand Jack” to young James. I’m sure that one day, the Seiko Pepsi will be on the wrist of my first grandson. Until then, it will remain a trusted tool, an inspiration for future adventures and a reminder of great days gone by.

- by Jack MacTavish

 

 

 

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