Bulova MIL-SHIPS

Sometimes I feel like Bulova is an American version of Seiko. Or maybe Bulova is the more affordable foil to Hamilton, another American company founded in the late 1800s and now owned by an overseas watch conglomerate. All three have legitimate heritage and deep back catalogs, and have earned plaudits from even the snootiest of watch nerds. But unlike Hamilton, which has squarely positioned itself as an entry-level Swiss powerhouse, or Seiko, who has its fingers in every segment of the watch industry, Bulova has kept the bulk of its business in fashion watches: its website lists 615 products and, by my perfectly objective count, less than 10% of those would pass muster at even the most casual of meet-ups.

But it’s not all oversized gold-tone cases and open-heart dials. Bulova has an ear to the ground upon which the watch illuminati tread and has been very busy digging into its archives. The brand made a huge splash in 2015 when it reissued the Lunar Pilot, the original of which was worn to the moon by NASA astronaut David Scott (and was later auctioned for over $1 million), and has since revisited some of its most popular vintage pieces, including the awesome Computron. The latest model to come from these efforts is the Bulova MIL-SHIPS-W-2181.

A bit of history before we proceed. The MIL-SHIPS-W-2181 is a bit different from your average vintage reissue, mainly in the fact that it was never issued in the first place. In 1955, in response to a new type of military diver that demanded a more substantial watch, the Bureau of Ships issued an RFP for a new watch: MIL-SHIPS-W-2181. In 1957, Bulova sent three prototypes for consideration, two of which failed the Navy’s tests. Apparently not willing to re-engineer the design, the MIL-SHIPS was shelved and forgotten. Until now. The newly (finally) released Bulova MIL-SHIPS-W-2181 is almost identical to the original. The awkward proportions make its purpose-driven design obvious, as does the retro moisture indicator at 6 o’clock. Furthering the effect, not a spot of polishing on the whole watch–this was made to be used. (N.B.: I’ve decided to set these photos in a sea ropes and chains and wood to honor the ways of the ancient mariners or because it looked good with the watch.)

I’ll not waste any more time: the dome on this thing is enormous. The double dome sapphire sticks up almost 4mm from the case. It catches all the light, but creates surprisingly little distortion. Of note, the Bulova MIL-SHIPS is offered in a 1,000-piece limited edition with a fancy old diving helmet case and a Swiss Sellita SW200 movement (reviewed here), or a non-limited version with the Miyota 8S20. The former is a full 1.5mm thicker than the latter.

The blasted case means dings and nicks and any sort damage are much less likely to show up. The vintage Bulova logo on the crown (matching the font on the dial) is cool, but the clown itself is undersized. Even on the slimmer 14.5 mm case, a wider crown might have been feasible; certainly lengthening the crown would’ve been possible. As it is, it’s usable, but only at the finger tips, meaning a solid grip isn’t possible. Look at the bezel, though: the bidirectional bezel locks into place when not in use, and must be depressed to rotate, hence the gap between the bezel and the case. Operating the bezel is not just easy, it’s honestly enjoyable. The extra step of pressing the bezel, the smooth rotation, and the satisfying click when it snaps into the desired position all create a more substantial experience.

The watch sits nicely on the wrist considering its proportions. It’s helped by the fabric nylon strap, which by its very nature conforms to the wrists, but the watch still pops up a bit. As mentioned, legibility is excellent, except for the most acute angles where extreme distortion sets in. I’ve been noticing more and more that watches with drilled lugs seem to have them placed haphazardly, with no regard for how they might interrupt the lines of a case. The drilled lugs on the MIL-SHIPS, though, are perfectly situated and make for easy strap swaps (a laughable notion, as I’ll discuss later).

The dial on the Bulova MIL-SHIPS is flat flat flat. No puffy lume, no texture, no dimensionality. Not typically my kind of dial, but this one works–it’s true to its roots, and that’s what matters here (Bulova has a bad habit of changing dimensions and other parts for reissues, and I’m glad they stuck to the original design for this model). The hand style may seem a bit odd for such a tool watch. If you take a look at the Bulova catalogs up through the1950s, they were dominated by small, gold wristwatches. It wasn’t uncommon to see these watches adorned with ornate cathedral hands and the MIL-SHIPS borrowed the silhouette of that style. Perhaps this was out of not wanting to design a new handset for the prototypes or maybe it was a way for Bulova to add a bit of character to watch that had to be built to otherwise strict specifications.

The matte bezel complements the dial and the case finishing and completes the purposeful aesthetic of the watch. You can also see the edge of the moisture indicator in this shot; it’s a paper strip that will change color if the water tightness fails. It supposedly works on the new model, but I obviously didn’t try to make it fail, so I can’t confirm.

Bulova lume is some of the worst I’ve ever encountered. I’ve described it before as “industry-trailing,” It looks good here, but this is a staged lume shot (the exposure was 4 seconds, hence the second hand streak). The lume lights up well enough but it doesn’t last long. If you want to really nitpick, take a close look at the application of the lume, which is a bit mottled. Credit where credit is due, though: the lume is even across the bezel, hands, and dial.

Rolling the watch over, the case is emblazoned with a vintage diving helmet design and loads of text. On the central portion, the text mainly serves to inform you about the limited nature of the pricier edition, including the number out of 1000; this area is a bit sparser on the non-limited version. The outer ring is in fact a separate piece, which was common in older divers and may still serve some benefit. Instead of a single-piece caseback, the main caseback nests into the case and the ring screws it down. The advantage here is that there is no twisting pressure placed directly upon the caseback gasket, reducing unnecessary wear and tear, this disadvantage is another potential (however unlikely) point of failure.

I spoke above about how changing straps on the Bulova MIL-SHIPS was an easy matter thanks to the drilled lug holes, but three issues arise. The first is the obviously limiting nature of 16mm lugs: non-custom, high quality straps are generally made in widths between 18-24mm. Second, most people simply don’t have any other watches with 16mm lugs. Finally, I tried this watch with three other straps, and every single one looked terrible. I don’t think anyone would’ve complained if Bulova had a small concession to modernity and upped the lugs to 18mm. Now, none of this matters if you don’t plan to change the strap (or have an uncontrollable need to do so, like me). The bottom line is that the watch and strap combo works as delivered.

The Bulova MIL-SHIPS-W-2181 offers a unique opportunity in the watch world: owning a vintage design that was never made commercially available, with fully modern specs. Had Bulova chosen to give the finger to the US Navy and go ahead and produce these serially for the public, the new MIL-SHIPS would be far less cool. If you love vintage divers, don’t need to change straps, and can’t resist a dramatic domed crystal the limited edition MIL-SHIPS can be purchased directly from Bulova. However, I’d recommend the Miyota version: it’s cheaper and thinner and no one needs a watch box shaped like a diving helmet taking up space on their shelf.