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I started diving, in no small part, due to watches. Around the same time I began collecting them in 2016, I became very interested in ocean conservation, marine life, and SCUBA diving. The adventure and beauty of the ocean, paired with the slightly anachronistic and storied world of dive watches, naturally sparked an exploration of these hobbies that would become large parts of my life. When I got my open water certification in 2022 (wearing a Doxa, of course), it was a moment of coalescence. Though I’ve not logged as many dives as I'd like, I’ve had some wonderful experiences in the water, and dove with some great watches and better friends. I still get looks of amazement, and sometimes incredulity, when I tell people I dive my watches. And though it mostly seems compulsory to me now, each time you glance at your watch on descent, the experience is different.
There’s a certain amount of anxiety familiar to those who dive with mechanical watches. You know this watch was built solely for this purpose. You know through batch testing at the factory, quality of design, and perhaps a dash of good luck, this watch should stay dry and running for the duration of your dives. And though there’s always a small chance it could flood, you bite down on your regulator, accept the risk, and take the giant stride.
Now picture this with a vintage watch.
It’s old. Older than you are. You’ve no clue where it’s been, or how it’s been maintained. And although the gaskets look good and it’s passed pressure testing deeper than you plan to dive today, you still have no idea how it will perform at depth. This raced through my mind as I waded into the North Carolina quarry with a vintage Seiko 6309 Turtle strapped over my wetsuit. As I surface kicked further out, I glanced at the Seiko on my wrist, its stark black and white dial already beaded with water. I looked over at my buddies Jacob Van Buren and Brock Stevens, gave the thumbs down, and the Seiko started its first dive in decades.
Earlier this year, I added a Seiko 6309 “Turtle” from 1984 to my watchbox. This is a watch that needs no introduction, but as I have a penchant for being longwinded, I’ll give a brief one anyways.
My 6309, shot by Brock Stevens
Released in 1976 as the direct successor to the 6105 series of divers, the 6309 was a robust, purpose-built dive watch made to be reliable and accessible to recreational and professional divers alike. The built-like-a-tank design of these watches, paired with their relative affordability, made them almost immediately popular with the military; countless photos from the ‘70s and '80s depict SEALS, Special Operations, and other military entities across the globe sporting their trusty Seikos. If these watches could survive daily use by Navy SEALS, I figured it could surely survive a 25’ quarry dive.
Photo by Brock Stevens
The watch industry has several SCUBA diving luminaries who cover dive watches exceptionally well. The 6309 is likely one of the most written about dive watches from both historical and diving perspectives. Although I’m certainly no Heaton, Stacey, or Lowry, my access to a plethora of vintage watches, parts, and pressure testing, begs that I try diving and writing about a few. So, on a muggy day in June with two good dive buddies, that’s exactly what I did.
I slowly descended and settled myself near the rocky bottom of the quarry. As I kicked around in the shallows, refracted sunlight from above dancing on the stones, the 6309 suddenly came to life. Beneath the surface, the 6309 became an organic addition to my dive gear. The cushion case sat comfortable and low on my wrist and the dial, almost magnified under the water, was legible at the quickest glance. The lollipop seconds hand ticked away beneath the mineral crystal, re-assuring me that my watch was indeed still running and confirming that this 40-year-old watch was still water-tight.
As we surfaced from the first dive, I enthusiastically told my companions how well the Seiko performed. I could only imagine how impressive this watch would have been in 1976 when it was first released! Well, as luck would have it, I was diving with one of the foremost vintage diving nerds out there, who “happened” to have brought extra period equipment. I wouldn’t have to imagine much longer. Whether this was happenstance, or part of a long developed plot to get me into a pair of UDT shorts, I’m still not sure.
6309 with period gear. Photo by Brock Stevens. Vintage diving gear (USD Mask, USD Calypso J & 1085 second stage regs, Steel 72 tank with USD J-valve and Mariner pac, pre-1983 MiUSA Scubapro Jet Fins) and UDT shorts provided by Jacob Van Buren.
Diving without a BCD is an odd feeling at first. Using only your breath and swimming direction to control your buoyancy is a bit quirky, but once you figure it out, Cousteau’s idea of the “Manfish” makes a lot more sense. Worn over bare skin and without a dive computer, the importance of a reliable dive watch struck me more than ever. Before modern dive computers, a dive watch and depth gauge were the only two items protecting divers from outstaying their bottom time and running out of air, or getting the dreaded bends. Stripped of my modern equipment, I had to put myself in the mindset of a diver from the 1970’s and put my trust in my minimal dive gear, and my dependable old Seiko. As I swam around enjoying the newfound freedom of light vintage equipment, my mind couldn’t help but play back images of The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau, Sea Hunt, or Thunderball as the 6309 ticked away on my wrist.
It’s an oft repeated cliche that nobody dives with their watches. Those of us that do know full well that they serve, in most cases, almost no purpose to us as divers. We wear them because we like the romance, the story, and the connection to diving history. History has rarely felt as present as it did on this dive. As I waded back into the shallows, slightly adjusting my skin-tight UDTs, I slouched off my vintage steel tank and took a seat on the dock. Jacob and Brock were finishing another photo shoot, and I glanced down at the Seiko on my wrist. A smile spread across my face as I appreciated this time tested icon that performed exactly as it should, despite being over 40 years old. This was the 6309’s first dive of its new life, and almost certainly not the last.
Thank you to Jacob Van Buren for his vintage gear and editing advice, and Brock Stevens for his awesome photos and picking up rental regs and bottles. It’s special when diving with friends can turn into fun content. Check them out @sea_vue and @deepsea.edc. Many articles have been written about the 6309, but one of the best is by Ben Lowry, @submersiblewrist, for Watches of Espionage, which can be read here.
