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Watch Geeking
Jan. 9th, 2010 11:39 am
I've been shopping for pocket watches, for no good reason. I picked up a few interesting things about watches; interesting to ME, anyway.
My current favorite wristwatch is a simple Timex "Easy Reader." It has a white dial, heavy black hands, heavy black Arabic numerals, a tick mark for each minute, and a 24-hour dial; that is, the numbers 13 through 24 are also on the dial, in their appropriate positions. It turns out that (aside from the backlight and the day-date window) what I have here is a railroad watch dial. What's more, it's a CANADIAN National Railroad watch dial. All railroads had strict standards for the watches their employees were required to carry. Among these, CN was unusual in that they used 24 hour time in their recordkeeping rather than AM and PM as was done in the States. And CN required their employees' watches to have that 24-hour dial.
Later on CN introduced and authorized a watch dial with a true 24 hour dial. If you stop and think about it, the standard 24 hour dials, with 12 at the, well, twelve o'clock position and 24 in smaller text beneath that, are not correct. Nobody ever writes time as 24:12, for example; it would be 0:12, zero hours twelve minutes. The revised CN watch dial had a main hours track with 00 through 11:00 on the main circle of numbers and 12:00 through 23:00 on the smaller inner track. "It is rare," the article points out, which is kind of unnecessary as I have never seen one. It is logical, though.
Railroad watches were a big deal because accurate time was a matter of life and death on the railroad. In 1891 a four-minute error in a conductor's watch led to a train collision that killed eleven railroad employees. That led to strict requirements for watches. Railroad employees were required to carry them, the watches had to be good, and they had to be inspected weekly to make sure they were in good operating order.
There were many requirements for the movement. I won't bore you with those. I'll just say that the typical railroad watch was a pocket watch. It had to be open-faced-- only glass over the dial, not a flip-open metal cover. It had to have the winding stem at the 12:00 position. It had to be accurate to within 30 seconds a week, which was very good accuracy back then. It had to be adjusted so it ran at the same rate whichever end or side was up when you were carrying it; it also had to run the same speed across a wide range of temperatures and whether the mainspring was freshly wound or almost run out.
The watches were "lever set," meaning you had to unscrew the crystal to get at the watch face, then pull a lever there, before you could reset the time. That was to prevent accidentally resetting the watch. "Civilian" watches seldom had this feature, since dealing with it would have been a pain in the butt, and not worth it if the only consequences of accidentally resetting your watch would be showing up late for dinner. Some non-railroad watches did have lever setting, though, and often because the watches, even in styles the railroad would never authorize for their employees, had railroad grade movements. It was just a good, tough watch movement, and many customers wanted one for that reason, even as some people today want military specification outdoor gear for this or that purpose.
Early on, a dial with Roman numerals was OK. By 1900 or thereabouts, depending on the railroad, new watches coming in had to have Arabic numeral dials. The individual minutes needed to be marked. In some cases this was done with tick marks, in some with tiny numbers around the outside edge of the dial, either a number for each five minutes or a number for each minute.
It's remarkable how people geeked about their watches back then. It was much like the way people geek about their computers now. You could buy a watch ready-made, but you could also have one assembled from parts you picked yourself. The movement, case, and dial could all be purchased or changed separately. There was much discussion about the benefits of Breuget coil springs, various trunions, and how many jewels (jeweled bearings, that is) were adequate. Seventeen jewels would cover all the main wear points in a standard watch mechanism, but early on some held that it was better to have only 15, since jewels were easily damaged by shock, and there was little need for them on the slowest-moving parts. Later on shock-protected movements with 21 jewels became the standard.
They even had their operating system wars. Microsoft, or rather Mr. Ball, the fellow who set the original Railroad Watch Standards and who was Chief Watch Inspector for many Eastern railroads, had an ongoing feud with Mr. Montgomery, Chief Timekeeper for the Atchinson, Topeka, and Santa Fe, in the Southwest. The Linux-- excuse me, Montgomery-- dial had all the minutes marked out around the outer edge of the dial. The Santa Fe used that dial on all their station clocks and encouraged it on watches; it was popular on other southwestern railroads too. But Ball claimed all the little numbers made it hard to read the time and tried to get the Montgomery dial banned wherever he could. An Operating System War ensued, with much heat, little light, and no consequence, but it kept the watch geeks entertained for a few years.
You can still get a railroad style pocket watch today, but unless it's an antique it's not the real thing. There are a few specific wristwatch models that are Railroad Approved to this day. But for the most part, advancing technology has killed the railroad watch.
After all, the conductor's watch is no longer the only bit of technology standing between the train crew and passengers (if any) and flaming death. There are two-way radios, tracking systems, in-cab signals; heck, if all else failed, there are cell phones. As I understand it the only railroad watch requirements still in effect are (a) you must have one and (b) it must be accurate to within 30 seconds a week, which is dead easy these days; a three dollar disposable watch will do far better than that.
But in 1910 a railroad man's watch was built as if his life depended on it, because it did.
My current favorite wristwatch is a simple Timex "Easy Reader." It has a white dial, heavy black hands, heavy black Arabic numerals, a tick mark for each minute, and a 24-hour dial; that is, the numbers 13 through 24 are also on the dial, in their appropriate positions. It turns out that (aside from the backlight and the day-date window) what I have here is a railroad watch dial. What's more, it's a CANADIAN National Railroad watch dial. All railroads had strict standards for the watches their employees were required to carry. Among these, CN was unusual in that they used 24 hour time in their recordkeeping rather than AM and PM as was done in the States. And CN required their employees' watches to have that 24-hour dial.
Later on CN introduced and authorized a watch dial with a true 24 hour dial. If you stop and think about it, the standard 24 hour dials, with 12 at the, well, twelve o'clock position and 24 in smaller text beneath that, are not correct. Nobody ever writes time as 24:12, for example; it would be 0:12, zero hours twelve minutes. The revised CN watch dial had a main hours track with 00 through 11:00 on the main circle of numbers and 12:00 through 23:00 on the smaller inner track. "It is rare," the article points out, which is kind of unnecessary as I have never seen one. It is logical, though.
Railroad watches were a big deal because accurate time was a matter of life and death on the railroad. In 1891 a four-minute error in a conductor's watch led to a train collision that killed eleven railroad employees. That led to strict requirements for watches. Railroad employees were required to carry them, the watches had to be good, and they had to be inspected weekly to make sure they were in good operating order.
There were many requirements for the movement. I won't bore you with those. I'll just say that the typical railroad watch was a pocket watch. It had to be open-faced-- only glass over the dial, not a flip-open metal cover. It had to have the winding stem at the 12:00 position. It had to be accurate to within 30 seconds a week, which was very good accuracy back then. It had to be adjusted so it ran at the same rate whichever end or side was up when you were carrying it; it also had to run the same speed across a wide range of temperatures and whether the mainspring was freshly wound or almost run out.
The watches were "lever set," meaning you had to unscrew the crystal to get at the watch face, then pull a lever there, before you could reset the time. That was to prevent accidentally resetting the watch. "Civilian" watches seldom had this feature, since dealing with it would have been a pain in the butt, and not worth it if the only consequences of accidentally resetting your watch would be showing up late for dinner. Some non-railroad watches did have lever setting, though, and often because the watches, even in styles the railroad would never authorize for their employees, had railroad grade movements. It was just a good, tough watch movement, and many customers wanted one for that reason, even as some people today want military specification outdoor gear for this or that purpose.
Early on, a dial with Roman numerals was OK. By 1900 or thereabouts, depending on the railroad, new watches coming in had to have Arabic numeral dials. The individual minutes needed to be marked. In some cases this was done with tick marks, in some with tiny numbers around the outside edge of the dial, either a number for each five minutes or a number for each minute.
It's remarkable how people geeked about their watches back then. It was much like the way people geek about their computers now. You could buy a watch ready-made, but you could also have one assembled from parts you picked yourself. The movement, case, and dial could all be purchased or changed separately. There was much discussion about the benefits of Breuget coil springs, various trunions, and how many jewels (jeweled bearings, that is) were adequate. Seventeen jewels would cover all the main wear points in a standard watch mechanism, but early on some held that it was better to have only 15, since jewels were easily damaged by shock, and there was little need for them on the slowest-moving parts. Later on shock-protected movements with 21 jewels became the standard.
They even had their operating system wars. Microsoft, or rather Mr. Ball, the fellow who set the original Railroad Watch Standards and who was Chief Watch Inspector for many Eastern railroads, had an ongoing feud with Mr. Montgomery, Chief Timekeeper for the Atchinson, Topeka, and Santa Fe, in the Southwest. The Linux-- excuse me, Montgomery-- dial had all the minutes marked out around the outer edge of the dial. The Santa Fe used that dial on all their station clocks and encouraged it on watches; it was popular on other southwestern railroads too. But Ball claimed all the little numbers made it hard to read the time and tried to get the Montgomery dial banned wherever he could. An Operating System War ensued, with much heat, little light, and no consequence, but it kept the watch geeks entertained for a few years.
You can still get a railroad style pocket watch today, but unless it's an antique it's not the real thing. There are a few specific wristwatch models that are Railroad Approved to this day. But for the most part, advancing technology has killed the railroad watch.
After all, the conductor's watch is no longer the only bit of technology standing between the train crew and passengers (if any) and flaming death. There are two-way radios, tracking systems, in-cab signals; heck, if all else failed, there are cell phones. As I understand it the only railroad watch requirements still in effect are (a) you must have one and (b) it must be accurate to within 30 seconds a week, which is dead easy these days; a three dollar disposable watch will do far better than that.
But in 1910 a railroad man's watch was built as if his life depended on it, because it did.
