Week on the wrist: Omega Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet, ref 231.92.39.21.04.001

Of bourbon, friends, and watches.

One of my dearest, oldest friends lives in Louisville, Kentucky. We’ve been thick as thieves for 35 years, and that time has seen us through the deaths of mutual friends, the loss of our parents, family ups and downs, and two professional engineering career arcs. Probably goes without saying, but there was some drinking in there too, and, as it happens, we are both watch enthusiasts as well. Although separated by 400 miles for the last 30 of those years, we have never failed to make the effort it takes to keep a friendship going. So when the change of seasons from summer to fall put me in a bourbon sipping mood, I knew whom to call.

The Omega Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet.

I’ve been in a white-dialed watch mood lately, too. After nearly two years of being unmoved by new watches and wearing nothing but the very perfect Rolex Explorer ref 214270, the brilliant and affordable Hamilton Jazzmaster Viewmatic rekindled my interest in the watch world again. But rather than completely quenching the fire, it only served to fuel it.

I have always been attracted to the Seamaster Aqua Terra formula, with its handsome looks, traditional Seamaster styling cues, respectable water resistance, and compelling legacy. I lost some of that interest when the “teak” dials came out, but something about the caliber 2500 white-dialed AT with blued hands and indices continued to distract my daydreams. They’re just… so white. And so blue.

The Aqua Terra caliber 2500. Note the subtle differences from the cal 8500. Image compliments of Matt Trenton.

These beautiful, older caliber 2500 watches aren’t difficult to find on the secondhand market, but my research into them revealed that Omega had revisited this design only a couple of years ago with its caliber 8500 co-axial GoodPlanet piece. Emerging onto the market during my two-year watch hibernation, I had completely failed to take notice at the time, but once discovered, this striking watch immediately grabbed my full attention.

The Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet still appears in Omega’s current online catalog, but the only joy available to would-be purchasers is joining an indeterminate wait list. Second hand specimens in near-mint condition seem to sell quickly, in a matter of days when priced correctly, so if you love this watch it’s not like the world is your oyster. Hence, when I found a single-owner watch originally purchased at an Omega Boutique, I did not hesitate.  I had only worn the watch for a few weeks when it inspired me to take a trip with it. And that was how I found myself jumping into my car and heading south to bourbon country with a pretty awesome secondhand Omega Aqua Terra on my wrist. Making the trip even more memorable was the car I’d be taking, a 2012 Jaguar XK Coupe.

The Omega Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet.

The Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet.

At 38.5 mm, the AT GoodPlanet’s case is a perfectly midsized thing of beauty with lovely traditional Seamaster styling. The twisted lugs, the slightly asymmetrical case, and the conical section bezel all speak to its Omega DNA. One thing that did catch me a little off guard is the narrow clearance between the strap bar and the apex of the case. This watch will not accept a thick, burly strap, and, due to the placement of the spring bars relative to the caseback and the watch’s overall shorter length, it also doesn’t do particularly well on NATO-style or one-piece straps. So a thinner strap is the order of the day, and you’d better know a good strap maker because the lug width is an uncommon 19 mm.

Be prepared for the 19 mm lug width. This watch wears exceptionally well on Horween’s Natural shell cordovan.

Countering the case’s somewhat wonky strapability is the AT GoodPlanet’s titanium construction, which translates to a very lightweight piece. You know that feeling when you leave the house without your wallet in your usual pocket or your watch on its usual wrist? The AT GoodPlanet is so feather-light on your wrist, you keep having that panicky “Wait, where’s my watch?!” feeling. And unlike other titanium-cased watches I’ve owned, which are self-satinizing scratch magnets, Omega thoughtfully and no doubt expensively built this one out of Grade 5 Ti, which is actually harder than 316 stainless steel. This also means it will take and hold a finish, quite happily in this instance, since the brushing on the sides of the AT GoodPlanet is magnificently fine and in beautiful contrast to the polished bezel.

Grade 5 titanium means the AT GoodPlanet holds a finish.

The AT GoodPlanet uses Omega’s COSC-certified caliber 8500 master co-axial movement, and it’s really cool. In addition to the shock resistance and maintenance interval advantages, the movement also utilizes twin barrels, which makes for a smooth power delivery and means the watch keeps time very evenly, regardless of whether it is at a state of high wind or low wind. It also means a 60 hour power reserve. Perhaps most amazingly, its hairspring is made of silicon, rendering it totally unaffected by magnetic fields. Its magnetism resistance is listed as > 15,000 Gauss, the use of the greater-than symbol seeming a bit odd to me here; I guess I’ll interpret it as “at least 15,000 Gauss.” Ticking away at the somewhat quirky frequency of 25,200 vph, it is a beautifully finished movement, all adding up to the pleasure of having something a little different on your wrist.

The Omega caliber 8500 movement. Image (C) Omega Watches.

Now to the riotous star of the AT GoodPlanet show, the dial and handset. I live in Michigan, which can be a pretty snowy place in winter, and we are winter people. I love our amazing winter beauty, like fields of fresh, unbroken snow against a brilliantly crystal clear blue sky. Looking at this watch is like that — whiter than white and bluer than blue. The lacquer finish Omega applies to the dial means its surface is perfect and flawless and utterly without texture. It doesn’t have that vintage feel or depth that an enameled dial has, but I can tell you that it is as flawless and perfect and white as that unbroken snowy field.

The blue on white contrast of the Aqua Terra GoodPlanet is ultra-readable in daylight.

Completing the inspired-by-winter-beauty look is a bluer-than-blue set of hands and indices which has been applied on top of the whiter-than-white dial. The combined effect is striking in contrast yet chromatically complementary, and incredibly legible in daylight. You could read the time on this watch from across the room on someone else’s wrist with but a millisecond’s glance. The date window is a plain-cut aperture with no beveled or stepped edge, but it is trapezoidal in shape and totally works in terms of not distracting from the perfectly white and perfectly smooth dial surface. Happily, the white of the date wheel matches the white of the dial, which we can’t say about the older caliber 2500 AT, where they are ever so slightly a couple shades apart.

The AT GoodPlanet makes a good case for itself lume-wise, at first.

So far so perfect for the AT GoodPlanet, but now comes the only piece of bad news, which is nighttime legibility. To be frank, it’s among the worst of any modern watch I’ve ever owned; maybe even the worst. Speaking for myself here, all I can see upon waking up in the middle of the night when I’m all sleepy-headed and partially befuddled is a crazy, confusing jumble of triangles. It might be better if the hour hand had more lume and the stick part of the minute hand was also lumed, but the scant sliver that the hour hand does have fades fast, and the minute hand’s floating arrow head just gets lost among the indices. Never before have I known a watch that was so easy to read and so breathtakingly beautiful to behold in the daylight, but so pathetically, impossibly difficult to read at night. It’s enough to drive one to drinking, so let’s move on to the bourbon tasting.

Friday, hitting the road.

Tire pressure, check. Overnight bag including bike gear, check.  Yeti full of fresh joe, check. New playlist ready to go on iPhone, check. For this trip I’ll be taking a Jaguar XK coupe, the last of the true Jaguar grand tourers. The 5.0L V8 roars to life and settles into a purr, the big cat preparing to stretch its legs on our journey to Louisville. This car simply excels in this setting, as a proper GT car should. The seats are ridiculously comfortable and adjustable in more ways than you can count, and the Bowers & Wilkins sound system is the cleanest, purest, loudest musical playback you’re ever likely to damage your hearing with. Entering the highway is like jumping to light speed with the Jag’s 0-60 of 5 seconds, and when it’s time to pass a slow poke, you’ll find the car goes from 60 to 90 faster than you can think of it, all with a feline’s poise and confidence. It’s simply an amazing experience driving a car like this, and I count myself lucky.

Adjusting tire pressure, then a couple hours later at the Union Coffee House in Buchanan, Mich.

The Jaguar XK was designed by the great Ian Callum, who had earlier penned the Aston Martin DB7, and the family resemblance is undeniable. Callum was at Jaguar for 20 years, from 1999 to 2019, but something I didn’t know until I looked into it was that in 1968 he had sent Jaguar a car design and asked for a job. At age 14. It’s fun to imagine  Jaguar going to their drawer of promising résumés and calling him up thirty-one years later. And like the Aqua Terra GoodPlanet, the Jaguar XK is amazingly affordable on the secondhand market. It is entirely plausible to get into a single-owner, low mileage XK for used Subaru money.   If Q Branch were on a budget, this is the car they’d be accessorizing for the Double-O guys.

The exquisite and affordable Jaguar XK Coupe on the morning of departure. TP shrine keeps vigil over my garage.

As the miles roll by on my way down to Kentucky, my mind sifts back through the decades of friendship with my old friend. When we were undergrad roomies with scarcely two dimes to rub together, we’d scour the shops for a $4 case of beer. If you had told me then that someday I’d have a car or a watch like this I don’t think I would’ve believed you. But so it was that I arrived in Louisville feeling unfrazzled and untroubled and ready for some fun. Let the bike riding and bourbon tasting begin.

Saturday, Five Distilleries.

I must’ve brought the Michigan weather with me, as we woke Saturday morning to a clear and cold day, the XK’s silver paint positively sparkling with frost. After coffee we loaded up our bikes and went to a nearby park for some fantastic single track riding. A quick bite of lunch and a hot shower later and we were ready to set out on the main adventure.

Frosty kitty.

There are 68 bourbon distilleries in Kentucky. To visit them all would be quite a feat, and would obviously take longer than one Saturday afternoon. Fortunately for the bourbon lover with limited time, there is Bardstown. This small city boasts eleven distilleries, and proudly proclaims itself the Bourbon Capital of the World. It’s a charming place with a great vibe, and it seems everywhere you look you see another cluster of rackhouses, the characteristic buildings where bourbon ages and matures.

A fairly modern rackhouse, also known as a rickhouse, with characteristic whiskey mold visible.

Another thing you’ll notice is the black whiskey fungus that grows on the rackhouses. If you tour a distillery, you’ll learn about the “angels’ share,” which is the ethanol that evaporates and escapes from the barrels during the aging process. Turns out the angels aren’t getting any of this bourbon at all, as it condenses on nearby buildings and fosters the growth of a black mold named after the first mycologist to study it in 1872, Anton Baudoin. Oh well, seems like angels should be sober anyway, doesn’t it?

My haul for the day in Bardstown, Ky.

In just a couple of hours, we visit Four Roses, Willett, Preservation, Heaven Hill, and Lux Row. The latter distillery was our favorite and we ended our adventure with one of their finest bourbons on the patio. The Kentucky sky was clear and blue, and as we sipped we reflected on the remarkable and enduring friendship we shared. Nice things, like watches and cars, are attainable to most of us. But the real value in life, and what makes it so sweet, is the human relationships we form along the way and the experiences we share. Like a carefully aged whiskey, this friendship is improving with age, developing deep complexities based on trust and respect. We’ve moved in different directions in some ways, but it’s clear that the original mash bill of friendship from over three decades ago was a winner. If our friendship were a bourbon, it would be rare. And priceless.

Marty, left, and the author, right. 35 years of friendship.

This concludes my review of the Omega Seamaster Aqua Terra GoodPlanet. Do you own an Aqua Terra? I always enjoy hearing from other enthusiasts and welcome your comments and factual corrections.