Incoming! Czapek Antarctique 'Secret Alloy'

[mongrelnomoad]

[This review was lost during The Great TRF Hack of 2021. Here it is once more, slightly adjusted and reposted for posterity. Enjoy ]

Strange times can lead to unexpected ends. And so it has proved with our little hobby.



Five years ago, perhaps even three, if I’d been looking for a new sports watch, I would simply have walked into my nearest Patek or AP boutique, handed over a credit-card and walked out with either a 5711, or a 15202.


But the world has changed, and the watch environment too. In 2018, as my young family grew and I realised that my trusty 5066a would probably not survive its third decade once introduced to my three rambunctious children, I set off to my local Patek boutique, and ‘my’ AD. I had expected to buy a new watch there and then, didn’t expect the snarling and derision, and I left realising that buying a watch was no longer a straightforward, pleasant experience to be savoured.

What I wanted was quite simple: a watch capable of being unceremoniously dunked into a bubble-bath, smeared in baby-snot, stolen from the bedside table and hidden in the freezer (true story) without missing a beat. Before two kids became three, I had bought a Rolex BLNR as the ‘ultimate beater’ (probably, unbeknownst to me, part of an implicit 'bundle' with the Lange 1 I’d previously purchased from the AD), and though it weathered the storms admirably, it was too large, too loud, too Rolex. I found myself pulling down my cuff, embarrassed by that shock of blue and black. Yes, I wanted something bulletproof, but I realised that couldn’t come at the expense of also being both exquisite and understated.

So I searched. Once Patek and AP fell by the wayside, Vacheron was the obvious choice, but the Overseas proved bulbous and awkward. I tracked down new and upstart brands previously unknown to me: Urban Jurgensen One (incoherent design), Blugari Octo Finissimo (monolithic on my wrist), FPJ Line Sport (too large). Owning a Lange I was terribly excited by the launch of the Odysseus and duly fell in love with it when I happened upon the press day in the London Lange boutique, but despite owning a Lange and discussing the watch with the company CEO, I apparently did not warrant an allocation.

Lange's gorgeous Odysseus



Dejected, I resigned myself to the Rolex ever more.

Then, a news flash fizzed on one of the many watch blogs. Czapek - a company I had never heard of - had launched a new sports watch. It resembled a bezel-less Vacheron 222 (my all-time favourite of the genre), and as I scrolled through the photos, it just looked… right.



But who would be crazy enough to throw $20k at an unknown? Not me, I thought, and so I closed the browser window and tended to the kids. Yet as the house quieted and the sun dropped, I kept coming back to that page. After several dozen reads and re-reads, I sent off an exploratory message, just a request to ‘know more’. Following from my recent experiences with other brands, I did not expect a reply, let alone a ping on my phone from Xavier de Roquemaurel, Czapek CEO. As we talked, so his friendly confidence, his openness and clarity, proved a breath of fresh air.

Despite myself, I placed an order.

On New Year’s Eve, a handful of hours before my home exited the European Union, the watch arrived. With that familiar excitement and trepidation nibbling at my gut, I opened the box.



What a relief when your (high) expectations are realised; what a pleasure when they’re exceeded. A watch that seemed compelling on the screen was even better in the flesh. Though the 40.5mm diameter was larger than I hoped, with the Antarctique’s short flanks and its tonneau case, the watch sits fantastically even on my 6” wrists. Though not exceptionally thin - 10.6mm in height - it wears much much thinner due to the scalloped cutouts on either side, the tiered construction of curved bezel and gorgeous vintage-style top-hat crystal. It does not wear dissimilarly to my Aquanaut at 7mm, though on paper it is substantially thicker.



Similarly smart and thoughtful details are in evidence throughout. The quick-release for the bracelet (a round switch manipulated by a tool or a fingernail) is well incorporated, while the crown is deeply engraved with the Czapek logo, and winds with a mechanical precision and confidence reminiscent of my Lange. The brushing of the case, too, is deceptively simple: on close inspection, it forms a starburst radiating out from the centre of the dial, and the cut-out for the date window follows the same lines. Swinging through its arc, the bright red tip of the second-hand gives a pop of colour to a starkly monochrome piece.



The watch launched with five dials - I chose the ‘secret alloy’, an unusual, raw metal that has been gently scraped with an uneven brush to reveal a random vertical texture, ringed by a highly polished minute track. It is almost impossible to capture in photographs, playing with the light to shift from ice-cold steel to a warm golden brown. The sword hour markers are as intricate as a Grand Seiko - multiple facets always twinkling - and to return to Japan, the case itself boasts razor edges sharper than anything I have seen except an unworn 1960s GS 45.



I swore aloud when I first turned the watch over. I own an open-backed Lange and PP, so I am no stranger to beautiful movements. This Antarctique, though… it’s a different breed. It is a testament to Czapek’s balls - a statement of intent really - that they didn’t try and compete with the big boys but instead sought to plough an entirely different path for their first home-grown heart. I like to think of the contrasting philosophies as divergent architectural styles: whereas the Patek and Lange are John Nash neo-classical terraces, the Czapek is Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water House.

John Nash's Regent's Park Terraces




Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water House




Though beautifully ornate, the Patek and Lange movements are inherently conservative in their design and construction: the delight comes from those embellishments. The Czapek, however, is intended from the outset to be innately dramatic. Though the fundamental quality is there, the movement is sparingly decorated in comparison to the more established brands. Yet, with the micro-rotor whirring, plunging down into the depths of the watch to reveal every layered piece of the machinery ticking away in its unique purpose, the resulting vista is absolutely mesmerising.



After living with the watch for two months, I believe this rear view, this conscious decision to be different, is emblematic of the spirit of this little company. What they've achieved is quite remarkable, gathering together - in a global pandemic - a collection of some of Switzerland’s pre-eminent suppliers (for instance, the dial-maker, Metalem, also manufactures for Philippe Dufour) to create a watch that can take the fight to any of the big boys, and perhaps win. I own a Patek Aquanaut, and I own an AP Royal Oak, and in no way does the Antarctique feel a poor relation.

Beside my AP 14790



Are there things that I believe could be improved? Though the bracelet is beautiful and comfortable (more flexible than an AP RO, less so than an Oyster or an Odysseus), coming in the box pre-sized and complete with an adjustment tool and a selection of full-size, half-size, and extra-large links, I still haven’t been able to find quite the right length. Xavier has told me that a new quick-adjust clasp is being designed, to be fitted to future Antarctiques, and sold at cost to existing owners. This will correct the one criticism I have.



With the supplied bracelet and rubber strap.


More instructive, though, was the time spent - via video and text - by Xavier personally, helping me adjust the bracelet on my watch. His enthusiasm and patience knows no bounds, and he has always been eager to help, day and night, weekends too as I hacked at the bracelet with the supplied tools.

Tools, warranty and instructions supplied in the 'toolbox'.


Czapek is clearly a proud and dedicated company, one that has already demonstrated a willingness to go over and above, a desire to be better than the competition, and better than they really need to be to sell the minuscule numbers of Antarctiques they will produce. I shouldn’t be surprised, though, because in an era of clamouring consumers, when watch companies don’t really need to try at all to have their watches snapped up in a frenzy, every inch of this watch screams that Czapek tries harder.