Cartier

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Cartier Tank LC Sapphire Skeleton (WHTA0002): How I got here

This is my watch today, on a gloriously sunny day in London:



The journey to the piece has been an interesting one - for me, at least.

From the first time I saw them as a child, I have been fascinated by Cartier’s mystery clocks - a relatively simple idea, faultlessly executed for a fantastic result. The hands, mounted on sapphire plates, seem to move in mid-air, telling the time and marking the ineffable passage of our lives:



When I grew up (to the extent that I have!) and my interest in watches deepened, that fascination with the Mystery clocks continued. Maybe one day I’ll get one - but not quite now.

At the same time, I started looking at mystery complications - JLC and others - in watches. I have always found them wanting: the requirement to either put in a tiny mechanism behind the hands or to have a thick bezel to contain it has always been more difficult to pull off in a watch than a clock (though I must make honourable mention here of the JLC Reverso 101, which I know at least one member here owns - while not a mystery clock per se, it is a wonderful solution to the problem).



The Reverso 101 is a great bridge (!) to another complication that I became enamoured with, at least on paper: skeletonised movements.

In one sense, this is the opposite of a mystery clock - the mechanism is not hidden but very much displayed, there for the world to see, its beating heart exposed. But it does share something of the same roots - the sheer joy at man’s ingenuity, part of what makes us love watches in the first place, designed to be shown to all.

But with skeletons, I quickly ran into the familiar feeling of all collectors: trade-offs.

Trade-offs are perhaps the defining feature of watch collecting: assets vs price, precious metal vs durability, size vs power, thickness vs water resistance and shock protection and ability to see movements, automation of power vs clarity of movement, complications vs dial design and layout - trade-offs are everywhere.

Landing on a piece, pulling the proverbial “trigger” is always a case of getting those sliders in exactly the right place, finding that Goldilocks point where the trade off between two desirable characteristics is in the right place.

I already dealt with one such trade off recently: I wanted the cake-and-eating-it experience of having a tourbillon but didn’t want it to spoil the dial; wanted to be able to see it but didn’t want the hassle of taking off the watch. With the Reverso, I found that rather elegant solution that was unavailable elsewhere.

In the current case, I like skeletonisation - the idea of it - but often struggle with the execution.

So often, the end result can look like hundreds of tiny parts tipped out into a watch case - connected, working, but lacking any clarity, coherence, and often coming at the expense of legibility (which I can sometmes forgive) and elegance (which I cannot).

What I wanted was something between the Mystery Clock and a skeletonised movement - something with some of the negative space of the former but the clarity of caliber of the latter, an ability to see and observe the functioning of my piece without sacrificing too much the ability to tell the time or to find the holistic whole beautiful.

So, after a number of attempts and considerations of pieces I won’t mention here (they weren’t bad, they just weren’t right for ME), I did the obvious thing.

I went back to Cartier.



The Tank Louis Cartier Skeleton Sapphire is 30 mm x 39.2 mm - large for a Tank, especially on my wrists (but then I’m not really viewing it as a classic, “dress” Tank).



The mechanical movement is Cartier’s in-house calibre 9622 MC - used for this model and this model alone, designed to show off the flow of the bridge and the gear train, allowing plenty of space around the parts to make it legible and clear what is doing what. With 159 parts (including 21 jewels) the total movement dimensions are only 26 mm x 26.3 mm with a svelte 3.6 mm thickness. It beats at 28,800 vibrations/hour - and those double barrels give it a very respectable power reserve of 72 hours.

The bridges are nicely brushed and chamfered - the anglage is hardly going to keep M. Dufour awake at night, but is enough to give the visual interest that’s needed, with a few internal angles (which have become almost a cult) thrown in to show off that use of gentian sticks we all love.

As expected, it has 3 bar WR: I shall not be wearing it diving.

The 18K rose gold case is less of a surprise: it is a Tank Louis Cartier through and through: curved case sides, familiar lugs, beaded 18K rose gold crown set with a blue sapphire cabochon, blued-steel sword-shaped hands, alligator skin strap, double adjustable folding 18K rose gold buckle.

With sapphire on the front and back, the watch is transparent, luminous - those who have not worn it (and, perhaps, those who are more hirsute than yours truly) worry about being able to see arm hair through the watch but it’s never been an issue for me. With a thickness of only 7.45 mm, it is light and wears incredibly well (the reference for this Rose Gold variant is WHTA0002).



As is often the case, the journey of getting here, the emotional attachment to things that fascinated me as a boy, the excitement of landing on a series of trade-offs that make sense to me - and the final result on my wrist - is a constant joy, a source of discussions with both collectors and “muggles”, a delight.