[VIDEO] Owner’s Review: the Tudor Black Bay “Burgundy”

I don’t look at Tudor in the same way as some of my colleagues. I’ve always liked and admired the brand, and I’ve owned their watches in the past, but for me they come up well short of a brand that I’ve ever obsessed over. They make very good watches, and represent an excellent value in the larger market, but when a new Tudor is released and the entire Watch Internet stops in its tracks to dissect it to the micron, I always feel a little lost. They just don’t inspire a desire to dive into that level of analysis for me. It’s how I feel about ER versus The Sopranos. Both shows I love and find myself rewatching often. I could podcast every week about The Sopranos, but I just don’t have a lot to say about ER. 

But when I saw the new Black Bay 41 in burgundy at Watches & Wonders this year, it felt different. It was like the Tudor portion of my brain, which might previously have been lobotomized, was magically activated, possibly for the very first time. It could have been the high of that first meeting of the show, the lighting in the booth, being in an over-caffeinated state, or the promise of those little sandwiches in the press lounge in a matter of hours, but I was in a particularly receptive mood for this watch. I remember it immediately standing out among their entire crop of releases, which had not yet been through the cycle of hype to come. I distinctly recall thinking that the new 41mm Black Bay was going to be the star pupil of this year’s novelties, and that the Black Bay 54 and the new white dial GMT were exactly fine and would do well with a niche crowd of enthusiasts. The new 41, I figured, would be this year’s wait-list piece. 

Of course, I was wrong. The BB 54 was the clear hit, not just of Tudor’s releases, but possibly of the show itself. Zach W. did a great job of explaining what makes the 54 compelling, if you’re inclined to be compelled by it. For me, it veers a little too closely into that territory brands like Tudor can get into when they resurrect watches from the archives. I’m fine with “vintage inspired” in certain contexts, but I can’t quite wrap my head around a watch that’s so close to something from the back catalog. 

I’ve always had a soft spot for the original Black Bay, largely because of the way it set a template for vintage inspired watches for the following decade. It’s undeniably one of the most important and influential watches to be released in the last twenty years or so, and I have a ton of nostalgia for the period of time when a watch like this felt genuinely exciting in the community. It was a relatively short-lived period, as brands quickly glommed on to the vintage reissue craze, and pretty soon it felt like every new watch could trace its lineage to the Black Bay. That’s possibly an exaggeration, but also…not really. The forums are littered with the electronic corpses of micro-brands that came out of nowhere to release a Black Bay knockoff, only to never be heard from again. May they rest in peace, I guess. 

That original Black Bay, for many, turned out to be something of a sweet spot for the lineup, possibly up until the release of the watch we’re considering here. The next version added Tudor’s new manufacture movement, made by Kennisi, and it had a profound impact on the size and wearing experience of the watch. What existed before as a modest block of a case wall was now a full fledged slab of highly polished steel, an example if there ever was one of how the visual impression of thickness can rob a watch of its aesthetic pleasure. The Black Bay with Tudor’s fancy new movement looked and felt unwieldy, and it made it incredibly easy for the community to shift focus to other Black Bay projects, which numbered in the thousands. OK, that’s definitely an exaggeration, but there were tons of Black Bays out there, thankfully for Tudor at a time when watch meme accounts were still in their infancy. Just to refresh your memory, among the many watches to carry the Black Bay flag, we had a chrono, a GMT, Black Bays in bronze, a piece of outsider art known as the P01, and, of course, the Black Bay 58. By the time the 58 came upon us, the watch community seemed ready to leave the 41mm version of the Black Bay to the dustbin of history, and indeed I can recall many speculating at various times, including in the leadup to this year’s Watches & Wonders, that the original Black Bay would just be discontinued altogether. 

Well, not so fast. 

The legendary first Black Bay lives on in a new watch, a rethinking of the original original Black Bay, available for now only in the burgundy bezel variety. The big headline with the new watch is its METAS certified movement, which is kind of an insane thing that we’ll talk all about soon. But Tudor also made a series of little revisions to the case, and gave the watch a major bracelet upgrade. For me, it’s turned the Black Bay into something more than a sentimental favorite. Now, it’s an actual favorite. 

The key improvement is with the dimensions and proportions of the case. Yes, that slab sided wall has been effectively eliminated, with the new Black Bay reading as, well, a normal watch. It’s not exceptionally thin or anything, but it doesn’t give off Big Watch vibes anymore, and the overall impact of that long, polished case wall has been curtailed significantly. 

From what I can tell, Tudor has accomplished this by simply recasting that bottom edge, taking material away from the sidewall and rounding off what’s left, with the lugs now coming to a more natural, narrow point. In terms of total millimeters, it’s a very, very small change, but the combined effect is enormous, and the watch has gone from something that gives off rough and tumble dive watch energy, to something considerably more elegant. The new reference is about 13.6mm tall, which puts it right inbetween the first and second generation watches in terms of thickness measurement, but I don’t think there’s any question that this version wears the best. That’s a result of the changes to geometry as much as it is some other new features of the watch. 

Aside from the case, the other factor that put this watch into a category that had me emailing my AD from Geneva between meetings is the fantastic five-link bracelet. For me personally, this was a surprising development, as I’ve never thought of myself as a Jubilee guy, even though we’re definitely not supposed to call this bracelet a Jubilee. But here’s the thing: this bracelet, on this watch, is basically a perfect marriage of style and intent. It seems to me to be an admission by Tudor that the Black Bay, at its core, is a pretty thing, and not a tool watch, and that it must be paired with a bracelet that is ornate, and almost chic. The five-link style reinforces the aesthetics-first prerogative behind this incarnation of the Black Bay, which as someone who only wants to wear watches I find visually appealing (because, you know, I have a cell phone, and I don’t spend a lot of time underwater, and I’m definitely not hanging off cliffs for fun) I’m drawn to like a moth to a flame. 

In addition to being beautiful and exceedingly well made, I’m happy to say that the bracelet is also among the most comfortable I’ve owned. It’s perhaps a little thicker than its Rolex counterpart, but the comfort of the drape that you can only get with those small links more than makes up for it. The T-Fit clasp is also a great solution for on-the-fly adjustments, making it easy to get the watch dialed in to exactly the right size. Shortly after taking delivery of my Black Bay Burgundy, I found myself on a work trip to a very warm part of the country south of the Mason-Dixon line. In addition to the heat, we were fed rather well, and between the salt intake and humidity, I had plenty of opportunities to put the clasp to work. Not that I’d expect it to, but it never failed. 

The dial, too, is executed really well, in a way that’s easy to take for granted if you handle every new Tudor that comes out, as most of us here at Worn & Wound are lucky enough to have the chance to do. The black dial has a very subtle sunray gloss with just a hint of fine texture that comes out when you really get it right in the sun. This makes for a more dynamic and less tool-ish dial than the simple matte black of the previous Black Bays. All of the accents (on the hands, minute track, and hour plots) are of the gilt variety. Gilt accents are almost always a dealbreaker for me, as I tend to think that they are somewhat self-consciously leaning on heritage details. Let the fact that I still decided to purchase this watch in spite of the gilt be the fullest endorsement possible for the way this case fits on my wrist. 

On the more technical front, the new Black Bay is powered by Tudor’s MT5602-U caliber, which has a 70 hour power reserve and in addition to being COSC certified as a chronometer is also METAS certified. This is a relatively new venture for Tudor, making it the second watch to get the “Master Chronometer” certification after the Black Bay Ceramic a few years ago. The METAS certification is most often associated with watches made by Omega, who have now integrated the certification process throughout most of their catalog, but Tudor reminds us that the certification isn’t brand exclusive, and they too have plans to blanket their catalog with METAS certified watches over the next several years. 

Unlike COSC certification, which is focused strictly on uncased movements and the timekeeping and rate stability of a movement, METAS certification looks at the entire watch and how it handles the potentially negative impacts of magnetism and water ingress. To achieve METAS certification, a watch must maintain its precision after a magnetism test to 15,000 gauss, as well as waterproofness to 200 meters. METAS certification also stipulates that a watch already have a COSC certified movement, and that it maintains better than COSC standards at multiple temperatures, in six positions, and at full and ⅓ power in the mainspring. From a practical perspective, METAS certification should mean that a watch will be problem free and keep great time under virtually any scenario for years, and anecdotal evidence from Omega owners would seem to indicate that’s been the case. It makes sense for Tudor to want to replicate what their chief competitor has done in terms of technical watchmaking and robust durability. 

I haven’t owned the watch long enough to bring it to the Large Hadron Collider to test out the anti-mag qualities, but I haven’t experienced a single issue with the movement, and timekeeping, to the extent that I’ve tracked it, seems to be just about perfect. I continue to be blown away by the ability of Tudor and other brands to get these watches locked into such a stable rate right off the production line. These are not, after all, low production watches. The fact that so many are churned out year after year with so few issues is kind of incredible, and speaks to the commitment to quality that many of the big Swiss brands have invested in. 

When it comes to daily use, the simple act of time telling is, as you’d expect, a breeze. The lume is exceptional, and has a knack for being activated by just a hint of natural light. There have been many times when I’ve noticed the dial glowing faintly during the day, picking up light through the windows as I’m working, or possibly from a nearby lamp. The point being: that’s not something I tend to notice on other watches, so points awarded to Tudor on lume application. Legibility, in general, is very good. I have always liked the look of the snowflake hour hand, and find that it helps draw the eye where it needs to be while still providing a distinctive Tudor visual trademark. There’s been some discussion and debate on the forums about Tudor’s decision to do away with the diamond shaped “snowflake” running seconds hand featured on previous references  in favor of a “lollipop” style decoration. To that I say: I simply do not care. When I was asked about my feelings on this decision in an Instagram post soon after picking up the watch, I had to confess that I didn’t even notice. 

And that’s a good encapsulation, I think, of how I feel about owning this watch within the greater community of Tudor-aholics, the watch enthusiasts for whom details like the ornamentation on the running seconds hand is (potentially) controversial, and could even impact their buying decision. Because of Tudor’s place in the watch world, and the overall high quality and consistency of their watches, fans of the brand put a laser focus on every aspect of their watches, to a degree that I frankly find difficult to relate to. 

That’s not to say I don’t admire that level of enthusiasm. Some of my favorite reads on this very website over the last few years have been Zach’s previously mentioned discussion of the BB 54, and Blake’s analysis of the Black Bay Pro, which saw him comparing it quite thoroughly to a Rolex Explorer II, reference 1655. For me, however, the Black Bay Burgundy excels largely thanks to a certain generic quality that fills a hole in my collection, and it would almost defeat the point to put it through such an analysis. 

Let me try to put it another way. I own another watch, a Louis Erard regulator made in collaboration with Atelier Oí, a Swiss architecture firm, that is one of the strangest watches I’ve ever laid eyes on. To me, that watch asks all sorts of interesting questions about the nature of collaborative limited editions, and how principles of architecture can be represented in a watch dial, not to mention the technical accomplishment in creating the thing. It’s also, in my opinion, an incredibly beautiful design, and one that I could probably ramble on about for several hundred words, at least, if I’m not careful. That watch feels like it’s begging to be analyzed from every possible angle. 

And then I also own an Arcanaut Arc II, which I did write about quite extensively earlier this year. When I bought the Arcanaut, it didn’t take me long at all to figure out that I had a ton I wanted to say about it, mostly concerning the idea of finding real artistry and independence at an approachable price point. My Bell & Ross BR 03 Multimeter, again, has been a watch that’s inspired a lot of thought, and might be, low-key, the most talked about watch on our podcast. And there are other unusual watches in my watch box, too. I have a Spinnaker with a glow-in-the-dark squid on the dial, and a Citizen diver that looks like an unused prop from an Alien film, and a Kurono Tokyo chronograph with a dial that has so many layers of lacquer applied that it takes on a nearly liquid, 3-D look – the pad printing appears to cast a shadow. The point here is that I have amassed a small collection of weird and distinctive watches. These are watches I love, that inspire thought on my part and conversation at watch meetups. But sometimes, I just want to wear something I don’t have to think about, and that’s where the Tudor comes in for me, and how it fits into my collection. 

It’s clearly not of a piece with the rest of the watches in my watch box. If you were to ask a random person to pick out the watch that doesn’t belong from my collection, I think they’d immediately identify the Tudor as the least “Zach” of all the watches in my regular rotation. And that’s by design. 

I can remember reading a piece in Hodinkee a few years ago by Stephen Pulvirent where he described his Swatch Skin Classic as a kind of palate cleanser – a watch that he could put on when he just wanted to wear a watch, without all the weight (literal and figurative) of the larger horological landscape around him. Maybe this is something felt uniquely by people who work in the industry, but I’ve found, at times, a real need to cleanse, do a hard reset, and just keep things kind of simple for a bit. This Black Bay, for me, is that palate cleanser watch, so it feels strange to dive into the details and examine it with the same rigor as other watches in my collection that are, in one way or another, more complex in what they bring to the table. 

I want to be clear about something here: all watches are worthy of a close analysis. That’s one of the principles behind Worn & Wound, which started over a decade ago as a platform for watches that were genuinely interesting and not getting a fair shake from the larger watch media world. But this is a watch from my personal collection (and it’s new to it, as well) and when I think about the watches I own, this one stands out for being aggressively normal, and a watch that doesn’t require even a second of explanation to enjoy. And I really enjoy wearing it. My palate, you could say, has been cleaner than it’s ever been over the last few months of ownership. Sometimes a watch just works so well in terms of its proportions on your wrist that you find yourself not wanting to take it off. It has some kind of secret sauce that makes it impossible to take off. 

On a recent podcast, Kat Shoulders and I found ourselves discussing the prospect of which watch you’d save if you could only grab one as your house was burning down. Of course, the real answer is “insure your watches and get out,” but it made me think that the Black Bay Burgundy serves another purpose in my collection, and that’s as the “Last Watch Left.” Imagine a hypothetical scenario where you decide you’re just done with the hobby altogether, and you’re selling everything, but keeping a single watch strictly for practical, day to day use. I can’t think of a better candidate for that job in my current roster than the Tudor. I mean, I love my Arcanaut, but that’s a weird watch to wear every single day if you’re not a serious hobbyist. A diver that can stand up easily to the elements and could be worn with a suit in a pinch seems like a far better option. 

Sometimes, even a fan of the avant-garde just wants something simple. Generic, if done well, can be incredibly satisfying, particularly when a watch in that category is surrounded by a bunch of stuff that for one reason or another are not “everyday” pieces. In the “very, very nice, but still under the radar” category, it’s hard to think of a watch that is better, for me, than this one. In watch collecting, it’s easy to get caught up in trying to define every watch, and put them all into specific buckets, or to take a stand on social media against something like a vintage inspired diver (I’ve been that guy!), but you also have to admit to yourself when a watch just clicks. And when I close the clasp on that five-link bracelet on the new Black Bay, it just clicks. Tudor