“Be Prepared.” The Boy Scouts motto suggests that in order to avoid mishaps, you must be ready for any type of emergency that might arise. Designed for action, this selection of military-inspired watches truly are ready for anything—from the frontlines of Hollywood to a weekend of hunting, camping, and fishing. Never be taken by surprise again, and always remember to bring snacks.
Photographs by Junichi Ito Styling by Stephen Watson Prop Styling by Linden Elstran
Breitling Aviator 8 B01 Chronograph 43 Curtiss Warhawk, $7,710; breitling.com Bell & Ross BR 03-92 Nightlum, $3,800; bellross.comZenith Pilot Type 20 Adventure Bronze with “Matrix” Calfskin Strap, $7,100; zenith-watches.com TOP: TAG Heuer Aquaracer Quartz, $1,600; tagheuer.com BOTTOM: Tudor Black Bay Steel 41 MM, $3,525; tudorwatch.com Montblanc 1858 Automatic Chronograph Bronze Limited Edition, $5,000; montblanc.comLEFT: Luminox Navy SEAL, $395; luminox-usa.com RIGHT: G-Shock The Mudmaster Limited Edition, $380; gshock.comLEFT: IWC Pilot’s Watch Automatic Spitfire, $4,350; iwc.com RIGHT: Longines Heritage Military, $2,150; longines.com
Photographer Ben Thouard doesn’t just surf the big waves—he takes you inside them.
Photographs by Ben Thouard
Not to be like this, but you’d really rather be Ben Thouard right now.
The ruggedly handsome, well-mustachioed Frenchman isn’t just a seasoned surfer and a vet behind the camera, he’s someone who’s managed to make a profitable, fulfilling life out of combining those passions. Between commercial and purely artistic projects, he’s managed to forge a photographic style that captures the insides, underneaths, tops, sides, and more of the waves he rides and loves. Along with lensing and publishing SURFACE, a collection of his wave photography, and touring the world behind solo exhibitions, he’s also settled down into true domestic bliss on Tahiti, which serves him as both home base and muse.
It’s this mix of the adventurer and artistic spirits that attracted Ulysse Nardin, who recently added him to a growing crew of endorsed explorers that includes sailors Dan Lenard, Sébastien Destremau, and Romain Pilliard, snowboarder and surfer Mathieu Crépel, Kitesurfing champ Alex Caizergues, and freediver and fellow photographer Fred Buyle.
We grabbed Thouard for a moment to talk about the match between him and the watchmaker, how he managed to become an ardent surfer despite growing up in France, his love of the ocean, and more. It’s a colorful set of answers you’ll wish you were the one giving.
Let’s start at the beginning: how did you get into surfing? I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean and waves, so it didn’t take long for me to focus on surfing. I discovered the sport with my older brothers when I was around 8 and fell in love with it right away.
Why did you fall so hard? It’s just you and the ocean. It takes your mind away from any troubles you have on land.
And how’s the surfing in France? Not many people think of it as a destination for the sport. I’m from the southeast of France, where there are very few waves. You have to be patient and wait for the right conditions to surf—so that probably grew my passion even more.
I read that you inherited your love of the sea from your father. What’s the most important lesson you learned from him? Yes, my father had a sailboat and we spent much of our free time onboard. The most important lesson I learned was to never turn your back to the ocean—not that the ocean is bad, but because it’s powerful and unpredictable. You have to be in constant observation and ready to move and adjust. It’s a continuous challenge, and this is what I like about it.
And when did photography come into the mix?I found my father’s old film camera at home, bought a few rolls, and started playing with it. Since a very young age, I’ve always been attracted to art. I’d been painting for years before I started surfing and long before I discovered photography. Then photography took it all over. Then I started mixing it up with surfing. All of a sudden, I imagined photography as my occupation and the world opened up to me. I knew it was going to be challenging, but being able to create, witness, freeze, document, and show people my work with the ocean was something much stronger than anything else.
And that’s when you chose to become a professional photographer. There was no choice to make—this was it! Once I made the link between surfing or the ocean and photography, I knew.
Lens Position: 4745
And that was when you were—what—15? What did your family think?To convince my parents that I wanted to become a photographer was a completely different story, especially since my dad is a surgeon. But they knew I had a strong personality and that if this was what I wanted to do, I was going to do it two-hundred percent, so they followed me and supported me.
What do you consider to be your greatest adventure to this point?When I was 19, I quit school, bought a ticket to Hawaii, and started work as a freelance photographer. Also, when I moved from France to Tahiti, eleven years ago. I realize that all these amazing experiences were related to my wish of adventure and exploration.
And what’s the most remarkable thing you’ve seen underwater?Definitely the images I created for my book SURFACE—you’re able to see the landscape through breaking waves. I imagined these photos in my mind a while ago without really thinking it was possible. Then I realized Tahiti was the place to capture them. I put all the energy I had into this project. It was the most amazing moment I’ve seen out there!
How is an adventurer different than an average civilian? Is the difference something you’re born with? Something you learn?A bit of both I think! It’s definitely something you’re born with, but also something you wish to develop. It’s easy to stay home on your couch and escape from any challenge. To go on an adventure you have to accept challenges and enjoy it. I think that’s a state of mind and some people just don’t like it. You also have to give yourself the chance to experience these challenges.
Many cultural critics believe that we’ve lost our sense of wonder. Do you agree? No! I don’t agree at all—not in my case at least. It’s true that some people don’t have that taste of adventure in their life, but I believe that the next generation has a strong desire to go out there and experience life.
Talk about your process. When you’ve got a new project brief and a clean sheet of paper, where do you start? It starts in my imagination, then I go out there and try to shoot it. This always leads me to shoot new and different photos. Then the inspiration comes from the ocean—magic just happens in front of me and I try to capture it.
How did you get involved with working with Ulysse Nardin?I’ve always been intrigued by the relationship between watchmaking, photography, and the ocean. They’re all related by one main factor: time! Ulysse Nardin truly connects these elements as the brand is deeply rooted in the sea. The ocean is a huge part of my life, so the partnership felt very natural. It began with Ulysse Nardin reaching out, as they wanted to build a team of “Ulysses” to tell stories about the sea. I loved the idea of being in a group of explorers who share my passion.
The UN Diver watch you use can travel to depths of 300 meters—what’s the deepest you’ve been? Personally I’ve only experienced a depth of sixty meters or so in scuba diving, but swimming in the heavy waves, you definitely need a timepiece that can endure heavy pressure. Only the best and the strongest can follow you on your journey. My favorite is the Ulysse Nardin Diver Chronometer. It’s comfortable on the wrist and easy to read even when I’m underwater.
Were you involved with the design of the watch? Are you working with Ulysse Nardin in other initiatives? Not yet but I am of course open to it!
You’ve lived in the south of France, Hawaii, and Tahiti—what are your favorite aspects of each place and what are the differences? Do you have a favorite? Each place is special in its own way. France will forever be home. It’s where I grew up and where all my family is from. I love going back there every year! But Tahiti is definitely the best place I’ve found on earth. Where I live is very quiet, very remote, but it gives my wife, two daughters, and me a wonderful quality of life. I have the perfect playground as a water photographer, and I was able to create my own style of photography.
What unconquered challenge are you looking forward to facing? Is there a place or person that you’d like to photograph, a place that you haven’t visited, or a dream photo assignment? My own large-scale exhibition in Paris where I can show people the amazing power of the ocean as well as its delicacy and fragility! Over the last few years, I have almost exclusively worked on my personal projects, and less and less for clients. I’ve had the chance to devote most of my time to something I loved, which lead me to create my book SURFACE and to producing a dozen of exhibitions over the last year. I will definitely continue to work in this direction and hopefully make that dream happen!
Timex brings American spirit, ingenuity, and craftsmanship to a new lineup of hand-assembled watches
By Scott Christian
What could be more American than a Timex? This is, after all, the brand that first democratized timepieces when, in 1854, it introduced a clock affordable enough for the average working family.
Today, the brand is upholding that heritage with its American Document series, a lineup of four American made, Swiss-movement watches that show a commitment to the patented American values of hard work and ingenuity.
Using a mix of modern proprietary tech and traditional watchmaking techniques, Timex hand-assembles every American Document timepiece at its Middlebury, Connecticut, headquarters in small daily batches. Notable features include a drop-forged, U.S.-sourced steel case, a precision-machined pendant tube, and a machined stainless-steel caseback.
It’s a very American blend of the modern and the traditional, as well. The forged case—the first in American watchmaking—hosts a made-in-Massachusetts Gorilla Glass 3 NDR crystal and a polymer movement support ring that safely holds internal components under compression. It’s all very of the moment.
But the line looks backward, with a traditional double-layer dial seen in the brand’s original clocks and watches as well as a special edition caseback coin stamped in U.S.-sourced brass and plated with “Aged Waterbury Brass” to match the color of the brand’s original timepieces. A brass crown insert stands as an aesthetic tribute to the material that made the original Timex clocks and watches so precise and affordable. Finally, the line’s stitched leather straps come handcrafted from American cowhide by S.B. Foot Tanning in Red Wing, Minnesota—a company that’s as much a slice of American history as Timex.
It’s the best of America past and present, ready for your wrist.
With its reimagined Kalpa collection, Parmigiani Fleurier introduces a new generation of collectors to an old standby of Hollywood’s leading men: the tonneau-shaped dress watch.
It is rarely absent from any list of the greatest films ever made, but Casablanca seems to possess few of the qualities considered mandatory in any modern production. The budget was minimal, the sets sparse. There is physical violence and passion, yet the quantities of both can seem sub-theraputic to any viewer raised on the bikinis-and-explosions style known—in its most enthusiastic excesses—as “Bay-hem” after the director who perfected it.
What, then, is the secret of Casablanca’s enduring appeal? Only this: glamour, in its purest form. We see it in the peerless, refined beauty of Ingrid Bergman, in a Morocco rendered alternately as unspeakably vital and irredeemably louche. Most of all, we see it in the world-weary Arctic cool of Humphrey Bogart’s idealist turned restaurateur, the man who “stuck his neck out for nobody”—until, that is, the right (or wrong, depending on your viewpoint) somebody walked into his gin joint. Not a gentleman in the traditional sense of the term, he nonetheless is to the manor born in shawl collars, Burberry coat, and carelessly tilted fedora. On his wrist, a tonneau-shaped wristwatch with no pretense of sport or military use, and an unashamed focus on form over function.
The stunning Kalpa Qualité Fleurier, part of Parmigiani’s latest collection.
Our decidedly glamour-free current era, in which volume serves in place of virtue everywhere from Hollywood to Instagram, has been decidedly unkind to the dress watch in general, and the tonneau-shaped dress watch in particular. If there are any expatriate-owned bars placed daringly at the crossroads of violently-contested war zones nowadays, their owners are probably wearing chunky dive watches or aviation-themed behemoths. Not to say there isn’t a market for a watch that remixes Hollywood glamour with haute horlogerie; it simply means that any potential player in that market will have to clear a higher bar than the ones that guard entrances elsewhere.
Enter Parmigiani Fleurier, a Swiss outfit that finds itself in dire need of an unmet challenge. No stranger to the timekeeping equivalent of Bay-hem—the most outlandish watchmakers often source components from Parmigiani’s five distinct factories and workshops—the company, and its founder, Michel Parmigiani, are equally versed in the rarer art of the non-sporting men’s watch. Having accomplished everything from a sub-four-millimeter self-winding tourbillon to pantograph-articulation hands, Mr. Parmigiani has set his sights on something at once simple and murderously difficult: re-engineering the tonneau for modern wear.
Two decades after the debut of his first shaped movement, the award-winning PF110, we have the new Kalpa collection. It consists of four pieces: the Hebdomadaire, the Qualité Fleurier, the Chronor, and the Chronomètre. Each casts a tonneau shadow befitting Bogart and his contemporaries, introducing the subtle felicities of a curved rectilinear case to a generation rarely exposed to anything beyond the dull, heavy pressure of the bathysphere-thick diver.
The Kalpa
Chronor, which uses the world’s first solid gold integrated self-winding chronograph movement.
“I set out,” says Mr. Parmigiani, “with the ambition to create a watch that was comfortable and ergonomic for all wrists… I wanted to create a piece whose dimensions were as universal as possible. I was also keen that the watch should be felt comfortably when the opposite hand was placed on the wrist… You can hardly feel the watch, yet it’s most certainly there!”
To that end, there is hardly a straight line to be found on the timepiece, with the lugs emerging almost organically as ovalized protrusions at each corner, and bending to follow the contours of a human wrist. As a result, the Kalpa makes a notable amount of contact with the wearer’s body. All the better to lighten the weight from cases rendered in precious rose and red gold. For the flagship Kalpa Chronor, mass does increase, albeit courtesy of the world’s first solid-gold integrated self-winding chronograph movement. As with each of the four Kalpa models, the caliber itself mimics the shape and proportions of the enclosing case. Here, Mr. Parmigiani does not mince words: “When you consider the horological masterpieces of the past, you never find any discordance between a movement and its case.”
Manual-wind enthusiasts and long-term fans of the brand will adore the radical Hebdomadaire, with its power-reserve indicator occupying a sort of alcove above an oval inset dial. Meanwhile, the Qualité Fleurier offers a self-winding mechanism and the collection’s subtle visual presentation, its time-and-date-only dial and Hermès alligator strap a lesson in striking restraint. Both are sized at approximately 42 x 32 mm, while the Chronomètre is larger, at 48 x 40 mm. The latter is perhaps at once the most conventional-looking piece in the lineup and the most handsome. It nestles a 36,000 vph column-wheel chronograph movement (code name PF362) behind a deep sapphire-blue face, with luminescent hands and a three-numeral date indicator. The modest water-resistance rating of 30 meters, a deliberate choice by Mr. Parmigiani, is sure to bring smiles to the faces of cognoscenti, as will the heavily engraved 22-karat rotor, shining brilliantly through the sapphire backing.
Transparent backing on the Kalpa Chronor, showcasing Parmigiani’s solid gold PF365 movement.
Parmigiani Fleurier is venerated as being a complete manufacture, among the few to spring from the imagination of a single man in recent times. So the introduction of four mechanically diverse watches at the same time amounts to nothing less than a tour de force—particularly given the intense challenges involved in creating a solid-gold movement to modern standards of durability and accuracy. At the same time, an extremely limited scope of production (the Chronor is limited to 50 pieces, and the entire Kalpa remains statistically nonexistent when considered against traditional, mainstream luxury watchmakers) will restrict the possibility of ownership to those customers who possess the nontrivial quantities of both liquidity and perspicacity. The man in the street might scoff at the lack of a rotating bezel or crown guard. But those who know—will know.
In a perfectly romantic world, these four Kalpa models would easily and naturally make their way to the ones who know, to adorn their wrists as they pursue affairs of the heart or participate in matters of international intrigue. But progress must be recognized. Keeping pace in the era of liquid-crystal afflictions, Parmigiani has also created a KALPA smartphone application, which promises an immersive, augmented-reality retail experience. The prospective buyer can “unlock the mysteries” of the new pieces by scanning photographs that appear on the Parmigiani website. It’s a neat trick, but if you can manage it, try meeting the collection in person. Because if the new Kalpa watches disappear from boutiques and you haven’t tried one, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.
Finding a new vantage point with Montblanc’s 1858 Geosphere Limited Edition.
I grew up obsessed with the Alps. When I was a kid, my family spent six weeks every summer in the Austrian farming village where my father was raised, so that he could work the fields with his siblings. On weekends, he and I would climb the surrounding mountains; from their craggy summits, my father would point out the famous peaks just over the border in Switzerland, their blue-white glaciers shimmering under the summer sun. On the flights back to Boston, we would press our faces to the window as the big Swiss Air DC-10 climbed out of Zurich, and he’d tick off the mountains stitched across the horizon: Matterhorn, Eiger, Jungfrau, Mont Blanc. I’d sit there, in the orange-colored economy seat, ears popping, spindly legs unspooled, wishing we never had to leave.
Some three decades years later, I finally got my wish. When my wife was offered a job in Switzerland, it suggested all the makings of a grand adventure: trading Manhattan for mountains, smog for snow, congested city streets for the opportunity to raise our newborn son in the same rugged region his grandfather loved. I practically accepted the position on my wife’s behalf. We now live in a small city whose cobblestoned streets and half-timbered homes seem ripped from the pages of a Brothers Grimm fable. In a quirky twist of fate, which could feel commonplace only in a country like Switzerland, our new residence is above a watch store.
Or, more precisely, behind a watch store. Like a wardrobe to Narnia, the stairwell to our apartment is accessed by—and here, I’m not exaggerating—a secret door behind a display window. Everytime we come home, we pass by expensive and intricate timepieces.
This has not been lost on my wife. She’s taken to saying that I should “invest in a nice watch,” frowning at my cheap, utilitarian Timex as we push our baby boy in his stroller through our front door.
“We live in Switzerland now,” she’ll add with a laugh. “You write for a watch magazine!”
So you can imagine her pleasure when Montblanc’s new 1858 Geosphere Limited Edition arrived in the mail before the holiday season. It’s a gorgeous piece, and a historic one, as it pays homage to the 160th anniversary of the brand’s iconic Minerva watches. Known for their robust and precise movements, many of those pieces from the 1920s and 1930s were built for mountaineering, when the sport’s popularity was exploding across the Alps.
With its handsome, 42 mm case (stainless steel or, for this special-edition version, bronze) and weathered, calfskin bund strap (made small-batch at Montblanc’s leather goods atelier in Florence), the new Geosphere feels as elegant as it is ergonomic, and built for exploration. But it’s the
worldtime complication—powered by the super-smooth, ever-reliable MB 29.25 automatic movement—that sets this watch apart. Two turning, domed hemispheres make 24-hour rotations (one clockwise, the other counterclockwise), bringing the world’s time zones to life with an effortless
movement. It seems to both broaden and compress our globe—a comforting feature when the rest of your family lives an ocean away.
The twin globes are also marked by seven red dots, denoting the highest mountain on each of the world’s continents. It’s a subtle design touch dedicated to the Seven Summits mountaineering challenge, which sees the world’s best climbers attempting to conquer Denali, Everest, Kosciuszko, Kilimanjaro, Aconcagua, Vinson, and, of course, Mont Blanc.
Despite our spitting distance proximity to the Alps, my outdoor adventure these days is limited to gentle hikes and bike rides through Switzerland’s rolling Appenzell valley. Really, anything that’ll keep my encroaching dad bod at bay. The landscape here is gentle and pastoral and impossibly green, even during autumn; the mountains loom in the near distance, rocky and vertical, dusted with snow. As I hike or ride, the Geosphere’s presence is palpable, not in a cumbersome way, but thematically, almost like it’s magnetically attracted to those heady summits on the horizon.
On Sundays, our small city empties out. The shops remain shuttered. Invariably, it seems, the fog rolls in from nearby Lake Constance, adding a ghostly layer to the narrow, winding streets. The only signs of life seem to be the cathedral bells, echoing through the mist. It was on one of these days that our small family did what any self-respecting Swiss family does: We headed to the mountains.
My son is nine months old, still far too young for anything resembling a serious hike. So we took the cable car to the top of Säntis, an 8,000-foot peak with a precariously perched restaurant befitting a Bond villain. Halfway up, we broke through the clouds; at the treeless summit, over piping hot plates of cheese spätzle and cold local beers, we looked out and took in the view of our new life.
There were the clouds, like white lakes running through the valleys far below. Above them were the serrated, snow-capped Alps of Switzerland, Austria, Italy, and Germany. And then there was the light, so strikingly clear yet soft, golden, otherworldly, as if God herself was developing new Instagram filters.
On that observation deck, I held my son at my hip, standing next to my wife, the red-billed alpine crows riding the thermals, mountain climbers snaking up the steep rocky face below, and I caught the Geosphere’s bronze case winking in the light. I looked at the dials: one marking the local hour, the other smaller and set to eastern standard time, where my father—now in his mid-seventies, but ever the mountain man I worshipped in my childhood—would just be waking up.
Standing there on the summit, looking at my son’s dark eyes go wide with wonderment at all the splendor below, I felt like my father for the first time in my life. I thought of him. I thought of my own son, the mountains, the pioneers who’d conquered them. All this continuity and appreciation, the outdoors blessing our lives. And the watch strapped to my wrist, keeping track of it all.
