Prodigal Questionnaire: 1968 Breitling Cosmonaute
By The Prodigal Fool, published on 4 April 2011
Vanity Fair has the Proust Questionnaire. Theirs is “candid, surprising, fascinating.” Ours? Not so much. It’s more: contrived, surpassed, fallacious. But, when it comes to penetrating the reasoning behind a watch-buying decision, we think you can’t do better than the Prodigal Questionnaire.
One watch. One decision. And 12 little questions that shine a probing, edifying light on them both.
Today, we’re putting Ben Oliver, contributing editor of CAR Magazine and its watch columnist, on the couch to examine his decision to buy a 1968 Breitling Cosmonaute.
One o’clock: Where or how did you purchase this watch?
I loved the look of Breitling’s recent reissue of the 1969 Navitimer Chronomatic, especially the bezel, the clarity of the dial despite packing in a chronograph and a slide rule, and the size. It’s big, but the original was big for a reason – to be more legible in the dim cockpit of an early 747 – and not just for fashion. But as with a lot of reissues and retro-styled watches, it just seemed to make more sense to buy an original; why buy an homage to something, when you can have what it pays homage to? And the originals will at least hold their value. So I started looking around for a big-case Navitimer or the 24-hour Cosmonaute version. I wasn’t too bothered which, and equally wasn’t fussed whether it had the manual-wind Venus movement or the automatic. I was offered this manual-wind, 819-reference Cosmonaute by another collector and I bought it on the strength of a few pictures. It had recently been serviced by a Venus specialist, but more importantly the dial, hands and the caseback with the reference numbers were all in extraordinary condition. The original all-black bezel had just the right amount of wear. A deal was done, and I asked the seller to courier it to me by 9am the next day as I was flying to Germany to attend a lunch with Michael Schumacher. I hoped he’d spot the rare piece on my wrist and we’d get drawn into a watch-geek conversation, and become best pals for life. We didn’t.
Two o’clock: What living person is it most like?
For the space and slide-rule-brain combination I’m tempted to say Elon Musk, but there’s a guy who doesn’t do retro.
Three o’clock: What is the watch’s greatest achievement?
This actual watch? Surviving in such amazing condition since 1968, and then surviving being worn at least once a week by the world’s biggest klutz.
Four o’clock: What talent would it most like to have?
It would probably like to tell me the time better; reading a 24-hour dial takes a little getting used to. But I suspect this is more my failing than my watch’s.
Five o’clock: Where should the watch live?
On my wrist. Failing that, at home with a quietly retired astronaut who’s had it from new.
Six o’clock: Which hero of fiction wears or should wear this watch?
Even though Scott Tracy, pilot of Thunderbird 1, was named after Scott Carpenter, who is supposed to have suggested the creation of the 24-hr Cosmonaute, I’d pick his brother John (named after John Glenn), as he’s stuck in orbit on Thunderbird 5 and would need the 24-hour dial to stop himself going nuts.
Seven o’clock: What are its real life heroes?
Even though it went into space, I think it would have been inspired as a young watch by the original flieger-style watches of the ‘30s and ‘40s. They helped pilots fly when aviation was still properly dangerous, even without someone trying to shoot you down. And they were big too.
Eight o’clock: What’s your greatest regret about buying this watch?
The fact that it’s pretty hard not to wear it all the time. It looks sensational; the size and the subtle orange detailing give it a very modern look, but you can tell it’s vintage, and special. Last month a waitress in Detroit told me it was ‘totally the coolest’ watch she’d ever seen, and I’d already paid the bill. My wife loves it too; it’s in her top three, alongside a 321-calibre Speedmaster and a Chopard Mille Miglia, which makes each of them harder to sell.
Nine o’clock: If it had a name, what would it be?
I’m tempted to call it Cosmo, but that’s way too posh and English. I think Virgil has the correct space and brains connotations.
Ten o’clock: What do you most value about this watch?
Condition.
Eleven o’clock: What is the trait you most deplore in it?
A stiff winding action, and that’s about it.
Twelve o’clock: Keep, sell or trade?
I would consider a sale or trade, as it doesn’t have a strong sentimental value, and I’ve run out space in the watchbox and feel the urge to own a ‘Sophia Loren’ Rolex GMT. I’d regret letting it go, but I’ve regretted selling every watch I’ve ever let go, as I’ve somehow managed to avoid buying a duff one yet.
Who’s next on the couch?
The Prodigal Questionnaire is published on the first Monday of the month.
We’re always on the look out for interesting watches chosen by interesting people. If you would like to be featured, drop us a line.
Prodigal Questionnaire: 1968 Breitling Cosmonaute
The Prodigal Questionnaire: One watch, one decision, and 12 little questions that shine a probing, edifying light on them both. Today, we’re putting Ben Oliver, contributing editor of CAR Magazine and their watch columnist, on the couch to examine his decision to buy a 1968 Breitling Cosmonaute.
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