Case No. 002

Case No. 002

1965 Ref. 165.024 Omega Seamaster 300

The Call I Almost Ignored

Every so often the phone rings and something about the conversation immediately puts you on alert. In this business you speak with people from all walks of life, and over time you develop a sense for situations that might not be what they seem. Sometimes the watch turns out not to be genuine. Sometimes the circumstances surrounding it feel unclear. And sometimes you simply have a feeling that the situation itself might not be entirely safe. Experience teaches you to pay attention to those instincts.

This was one of those calls.

The woman had found me online and got straight to the point. Before I could even properly introduce myself she asked if I bought Omega watches. Her tone was direct and impatient, and the conversation felt rushed from the beginning. My first instinct was to politely wrap things up and move on, which is something I have learned to do over the years when a situation does not feel quite right.

Instead I paused and asked what she had.

She told me it was an Omega Seamaster that had belonged to her aunt’s husband. When I asked roughly how old the watch was she said she thought it was probably from the 1960s. That was enough to make me curious, so I asked her to send a few photos and told her I would take a look.

The pictures that arrived a few minutes later were exactly the kind of photographs you often receive when a watch is surfacing for the first time. The lighting was poor and the angles made it difficult to see much of anything clearly. But if you have been doing this long enough you learn to look past the quality of the photos and focus on small details that reveal what something might be.

Through the glare and scratches I could make out the shape of a no-date Omega Seamaster 300 from the 1960s, reference 165.024. The last photo she sent immediately got my attention.

She wanted to meet that evening, but by then it was already early evening and I was in the middle of family time, getting ready for dinner and the usual bedtime routines with my kids. The urgency in her voice made me cautious, and situations that feel rushed rarely end well. I told her I would be happy to meet the following day, but only at a bank. Meeting in a public place is something I have learned to do whenever possible. Cameras are present, people are around, and there is an added level of safety if something unexpected happens.

We agreed to meet the next day around noon.

The following morning I tried to confirm the meeting, but she did not answer my call. I sent a text and still heard nothing. At that point I assumed the opportunity had probably slipped away. Sometimes people simply need money quickly and move on to the next buyer.

About an hour later she finally answered when I called again. Her tone was still abrupt, but she said she was waiting on a ride and could meet shortly. We pushed the time back a bit and eventually agreed to meet around one o’clock.

I arrived at the bank a few minutes early and waited.

When she walked in, the watch was exactly what the photographs had suggested. It sat beneath an acrylic crystal so scratched and cloudy that it was difficult to see much of anything underneath. The case looked honest, and the bracelet appeared correct for the period, but the condition of the crystal made it almost impossible to evaluate the dial or hands with any certainty.

I made a conservative offer, keeping in mind that something about the situation still didn’t quite sit right.

Later that afternoon when I returned home I sat down at my desk and began polishing the crystal. As the scratches slowly disappeared, the dial underneath began to reveal itself.

What emerged was an exceptional example of the Omega Seamaster reference 165.024. The case was unpolished, the dial was remarkable, and the bold font bezel was flawless. It was the kind of watch that reminds you why pieces from this era can be so special. In many ways these Omegas were every bit the equal of their Rolex counterparts, and this particular example had clearly spent decades untouched.

It was not long before I was able to learn more about the watch’s history. A friend with a connection at Omega Switzerland was able to confirm that the watch had been delivered in 1966 to the United States Navy, most likely through a military PX.

With a bit more research we were even able to identify the man who had originally owned it. His name was Lawrence Arthur Everett and he had served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and later in the Navy during the Vietnam era which is when this watch would have been purchased.

After he passed away in the early 2000s the watch appears to have sat tucked away for roughly twenty-five years, completely untouched.

Watches like this have a way of appearing when you least expect them. Sometimes the calls that feel the most uncertain at the beginning end up leading to something remarkable.

This Seamaster was one of those moments, and I am very glad I decided not to ignore the call.

Fresh to Market documents the hunt. Sometimes it begins with a quiet introduction. Other times it starts with a phone call that doesn’t quite feel right. This was one of those calls.

If you have a watch with a story behind it, I would be glad to hear from you.

Previous
Previous

Case No. 003

Next
Next

Case No. 001