Hobby Diver: Thoughts on Three Dive Watches

Hobbies have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. The trajectory of joy driven by discovery and novel experience has always been good for my neurodivergent tendencies. Hobbies have been my primary conduit for integrating memorable experiences, knowledge, and skills into my life.

I started to develop a curiosity with scuba diving after seeing a few friends get into it and watching a few Cousteau docs on Youtube. From there my wife and I ended up getting certified prior to our honeymoon in French Polynesia. I was immediately hooked once I witnessed that alien, yet familiar, world below sea level.

While the initial excitement of a new hobby can be a whirlwind romance, I’ve come to temper my expectations of how deep I should dive into the rabbit hole. At the end of the day, it’s not a competition to see how quickly you can assume a monk-like devotion to a hobby. While I used to approach hobbies in that way, I now embrace being a filthy casual and finding that point of equilibrium in a hobby where I can derive as much joy out of it without starting to resent it. There’s love behind every hobby, because they bring us joy when we engage in them, think about them, or talk about them.

Which brings me to dive watches. What a splendid marriage of two hobbies. I’ve been a low-grade, casual watch collector for the last few years, thanks to a few close friendships with RedBar members. They’ve been a great, if sometimes expensive, influence on my life, and dive watches tend to be the focus of my interest in the space.

While a good dive watch deftly marries form and function, they’ve become rather vestigial from a practical perspective for most divers. Even with my advanced PADI license with an open circuit on regular air, I’m never going past 130 feet. And yet I delight in wearing a timepiece that is a-ok at 2 or 300 meters. (I joke that you’ll be able to tell the time off of my corpse if I ever end up that far down.)

The unidirectional bezel, once a practical and necessary means of tracking one’s dive time, is now essentially an ASMR fidget device for me, as dive computers have become the de facto wrist wear. My current dive computer is an Atmos Mission One, which I love and would be happy to review in the future. Even though I’ll never do a saturation dive and I don’t “need” a dive watch, I wear one every time I go down, putting my dive computer on my right wrist and my dive watch du jour on the left. If the watch isn’t necessary, one might ask, then what’s the point of wearing one?

The dive watch has become a sentimental and cultural artifact - a delightful reminder of the spirit of the hobby many of us love. The design, invention, and innovation that went into designing watches that can handle 29 atmospheres of pressure and still tell the time clearly is a marvel we take for granted. When I wear one on land, it’s a sweet little reminder of where I’d rather be: below the surface, in 80 degree water, ogling at a living world that is alien yet innately connected to our collective existence. Every time I check to see what time it is, I experience a little flashback of these sublime experiences: photographing a spotted moray eel with its jaw agape; holding a mooring line while a pregnant bull shark oscillates by, or witnessing an oceanic manta that soaring past me with fluidity and grace. All moments in time where I was witnessing a world we humans generally weren’t meant to see.

As someone who enjoys bringing dive watches on actual dives, I’ve had the pleasure of diving with three very different watches on my last few trips to Curacao, each of which I love for different reasons: The Seiko PADI anniversary edition, the DOXA SUB 300 Carbon, and my current favorite, the Zodiac Super Sea Wolf.

All three are automatic divers, but aside from that I would say the similarities end there. I’ve owned the Seiko for the longest- it’s my lovable workhorse, gifted to me as a wedding present by my wife. It is a classic, heavy, tough diver that can withstand all of my bullshit as well as 200m of submersion. For the money, (<$500) it’s hard to beat considering its features: a 28 hr reserve, 200m depth rating, and a satisfying rotating bezel click. It luminesces well at night and looks great at depth.

Then there’s the DOXA SUB 300 Carbon. To me, it’s the opposite of the Seiko: sleek, super light, smaller, and pretty revolutionary. The forged carbon case says it all- it’s ultra lightweight and the carbon pattern looks great against the orange dial. Those of you who actually dive with a dive watch are in for a treat, because the forged carbon pattern really pops visually when it’s underwater. My only gripes with this watch are that I worry about the case’s durability (especially around the spring bar holes) and it’s not the easiest to read in the dark. But if you’re a lume head, then you’ll definitely be the most interested in the next watch in my review.

The Zodiac Super Sea Wolf was graciously lent to me by Kathleen at RedBar, via the folks at Zodiac. I brought it along on my most recent trip to Curaçao in late September, and have honestly been in love with it ever since. The titanium case is the perfect mix of durability and weight - it’s as solid as the Seiko but approximately 50% lighter. (Ed. note: we know this because we measured both watches on the coffee scale in our office.) The dial is large, in a 42mm case, and extremely legible, something very important in a dive watch.

If you’re into watches that glow, let me tell you: This watch is lumey AF. The entire bezel is lumed and it carries some big “light of Eärendil” energy with it. The fabric strap, with its strong Velcro closure, is functional and secure. It’s also got a super clicky bezel which is intensely satisfying to rotate and has minimal play (for the cyclists in the house, it reminds me of a Chris King freewheel hub). My only gripe here is that the watch is missing a date window. (Ed. note: boy, is that a loaded statement.) A nice feature to have, and one I didn’t realize how much I’d miss it until it wasn’t there. Aside from that, the design is killer, with sharp, crisp lines all wrapped up in a package that’s the perfect size and weight.

One surprising observation: I assumed the DOXA SUB 300 Carbon would have been the lightest watch, but as configured, with the rubber strap and steel clasp, it was actually 21% heavier than the Sea Wolf with the fabric strap (97.5 grams for the DOXA vs. 78.8 for the Sea Wolf.) The Seiko PADI Turtle is an absolute chonker of a unit weighing in at 149 grams, but that’s what we love about it. It’s solid and built to be knocked around. Purists may shudder, but I’ve actually had to replace the entire case on mine due to all the fun times I’ve put it through.

So there we have it, three watches that I absolutely love for different reasons. They’re all fun to have on your wrist while you’re drifting along a coral wall, hoping to spot a frogfish or a little blenny. They’re also a delightful yet subtle reminder of a hobby you love when you’re on dry land, lamenting the drudgery of zoom meetings, commuting, and societal nonsense.