A three-year project, a family heirloom, and a debate in the collector community about authenticity, preservation, and what it truly means to honor the past.
The Omega demi-hunter before conversion. Left: the guilloche outer case with inner dial aperture. Right: the original movement.
My great-great-grandfather left me a silver Omega pocket watch. It was a beautiful watch, part of my family history. Sometimes I would wind it and listen to its ticking — louder than any wristwatch. Despite being over a hundred years old, it kept time perfectly.
I worked in banks for a long time and could afford to buy new watches from the best manufacturers from time to time. First a Longines, then an Audemars Piguet. When I was promoted, I bought a Vacheron Constantin. For my anniversary, I was given a Lange. But my favorite was a Panerai — my wife bought me this watch for our wedding anniversary. It wasn't new, with a Cortebert movement and trench-style wire lugs, but it went with a wide variety of outfits.
Over the years, I accumulated quite a few decent watches. But every now and then, I'd take out my vintage Omega half-hunter and examine its guilloche, the hand-engraved coat of arms on the case, and listen to its resonant ticking. When I opened the inner cover, the sound grew louder, and the measured movement of the balance and the rhythmic breathing of the blue hairspring were literally hypnotizing.
I dreamed of one day converting it into a wristwatch — to wear it as part of my family history and at the same time have a watch that no one else in the world had.
A Collection Built on Vintage
It should be noted that all the modern watches I bought or was given, except the Panerai, predictably lost value. But the vintage Panerai rose in price. That observation led me deeper into the world of antique pocket watches. I started buying at auctions and accumulated what I considered a fairly good collection. Jurgensen, Breguet, and Patek became the crown jewels. By then I had already quit my banking job and could devote myself to my hobby — and eventually, to a craft.
But the idea of transforming the family Omega into a wristwatch kept returning.
The Conversion: Three Years in the Making
I disassembled the watch, removed the movement, and carefully smoothed out any dents, polishing the covers and case. To do this I had to study an old tool for straightening pocket watch cases and make a set of punches.
I did not want to weld wire lugs like the Panerai ones — that would have meant wearing it on a vintage strap with a backing. I wanted full-size lugs with the ability to mount a regular strap with standard pins. This required designing the lugs from scratch. They had to be compact on one side, since the pocket watch case was already 50mm wide, and on the other side allow the back covers to open fully.
A precision jig was needed to weld them exactly parallel. It took three years to create a jig capable of welding lugs to watch cases with the required precision. I subsequently refined it until I achieved a quality worthy of fine Swiss antique watches.
Finally, I realized my dream. After cutting the cannon and shortening the pusher tube to allow the top case to open, I shortened the stem and relocated the winding crown. The cut-off parts were saved. Then, on the jig, I precisely welded the lugs and finished the welds.
After conversion. The demi-hunter case opens fully; lugs allow a standard strap with spring bars.
Left: the original movement, undisturbed. Right: lug detail — welded and finished to the standard of a fine Swiss case.
The completed conversion on a black leather strap. The watch retains its original movement, dial, and case — the lugs are the only addition.
The Debate: Restoration or Desecration?
On the recommendation of collector friends, I posted a photo of the finished watch on the NAWCC forum. The watch sparked a heated debate. Some admired the work; others claimed I had ruined a precious artifact.
"This topic has fascinated me for a long time. Antiquewrist.com has taken a broken Omega demi-hunter pocket watch and converted it to a trench-style wristwatch. Some see this as an act of loving restoration of a memory of the past. Others see it as an act of desecration performed on a precious artifact. I wonder if it is possible for those with these contrary views to understand one another?" — NAWCC Forum Moderator
The moderator's position was clear: the watch retained its authenticity and could easily be restored to its original appearance. First, it had changed less than ten percent — keeping it firmly in the antique category. Second, the conversion is fully reversible: saw off the lugs, clean up the weld area, weld the cannon back on, and extend the stem and pressure tube on the top cover.
As the moderator noted, a hundred years ago such conversions were commonplace — ladies' pendant watches became men's wristwatches as the wristwatch era arrived. The vintage Panerai I had long admired was itself born of exactly this tradition.
Wearing History
I was simply delighted when I could finally wear it. I had never seen anything like it on anyone's wrist. When I first wore it in public, not a single one of my friends remained indifferent. I still notice the surprised and intent glances people give this watch. I am filled with pride at those moments, and I happily tell its story when people ask.
Watch the conversion process and the finished result on the wrist.
This is what pocket watch conversions have always been about — not destruction, but continuation. A watch that would have sat in a drawer for another century is now worn, admired, and still telling its story.