You’ve certainly heard of Poljot. The Russian Brand that supplied Yuri Gagarin with the first watch ever worn into space? Sure you have. Well, since being founded in the 1930s as a state company, a lot has happened. First and foremost is the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991; it was then that the fate of a number of state companies became uncertain. For Poljot, which had been producing watches at the First Moscow Watch Factory since its inception, the fall of the government led to a German company forming and, it seems, taking things over. Poljot-V GmbH was formed in 1992 and the new watch brand, Poljot-International, was launched in 1994. Since then, they’ve continued the story of Poljot while capitalizing on the quality that German manufacturing provides. Perhaps no better model exists to exemplify the blending of new and old than the Poljot-International Samara: a watch design from the 1960s, revised and outfitted with a classic Poljot caliber and limited to 100 pieces.
What you will first notice when you open up the Poljot-International Samara is that the dial has a beautiful purple tint to it. The stock photos show a blue watch, but it is not truly blue, and that’s a great thing. Other elements that stand out — maybe not for the better — are the “Vintage movement” script and the minute numerals.
Poljot Samara Specs | |||
Case Diameter: | 38.5mm | Crystal: | Sapphire |
Case Thickness: | 11.5mm | Lume: | None |
Lug-to-Lug: | 44.5mm | Strap: | Leather strap |
Lug Width: | 20mm | Movement: | Poljot Cal. 2609 |
Water Resistance: | 50m | Price: | $575 |
The dimensions don’t lie and this watch wears wonderfully on the wrist. The sweeping curve of the case makes it contour to just about any wrist, though bigger circumferences may dwarf the case. Check out the polished stepped bezel and how it drops from the big domed crystal down to the satin-brushed midcase. The transitions here aren’t the sharpest, but the watch nevertheless looks beautiful on the wrist.
You can see what I mean: the edges are just a bit soft, but I’d never let that get in the way of buying this watch, as the brushing adds a nice break to the otherwise polished case. I also dig the use of Poljot-International’s logo on the push-pull crown (the iconic Kremlin onion dome). The crown itself is very nicely sized, taking full advantage of every millimeter of the case to allow for easy grip.
Speaking of domes, look at that bad boy. Without the dome, the Poljot-International Samara measures just 9.5mm thick. More importantly, though, look at the case shape. Lots of brands do fancy facets or just a slab side; the rounding on this calls to mind the Traska Summiteer. It makes the watch wear even better than if it were to have slab sides, as it creates the illusion of thinness (on top of the reality of the watch’s thinness).
The dial is a stunning shade of purplish-blue, and it really depends on the light you’re in as to which will be dominant, purple or blue. I’ve long yearned for a purple dial that doesn’t hit you over the head with its color, so this one resonated with me. Overall the dial design reminds me of the Glashutte Original Senator Sixties, which is certainly not a bad thing and makes sense given the Samara’s vintage roots. That said, there are elements here that seem at least a bit curious.
First and foremost, for me, are the minute numbers. I just don’t know why they’re there. I suppose they’re a curiosity more than an offense. Next, both the dial and hands feature a lacquered finish, and that gives them a richness, but the handset (seen more clearly below and in other photos) initially seems like it must be lumed, and yet they aren’t. The fact that they are entirely white had me convinced, to the point that I went to light it up with a UV torch and had to try several times before realizing there wasn’t any lume. Now, there’s nothing wrong with a watch not having lume; this watch is certainly more formal and lume is far less common on such watches.
Then there’s the “Vintage movement” script. Why isn’t “movement” capitalized? Plus, this is the fifth font on this dial, causing some issues with design cohesion. Forgiving the “Poljot International” fonts, you still have three fonts; the script betrays the sans serif 1960s style of the others. I’ll admit I couldn’t find a picture of the specific watch the Poljot-International Samara is based upon, and it may well be that they’ve done a 1:1 reproduction of the dial. If that’s the case, there’s a bit of wiggle room for all these issues to be accepted in the name of historicity.
I will remark on the strap: It’s a decent strap, and while somewhat stiff, it seemed like it would break in quickly with regular wear. However, the two-stitch style and thickness seem at odds with the dressy softness of the watch. That’s why I paired it with thinner, more elegant straps when I had it on. The movement, though, deserves some consideration beyond the usual regurgitation of specs (manual wind, 17 jewels, 38-hour power reserve, 21,600 vph). The Poljot 2609 has been in production since 1972, and is a mainstay of the historic brand. It is exactly what you’d expect from a movement made in a communist country: no frills and exceptionally rugged. It’s unclear, but the Samara seems to be equipped with a newly produced 2609, not a NOS original movement. If so, that means it’s a bit more reliable because it’s fresh off the line.
For all its contradictions and question marks, the Poljot-International Samara is a decidedly lovely timepiece. It wears well, is nicely finished, and features a radiant purple-blue dial that captivates when glanced upon. Any discussion about fonts and hands is admittedly nitpicking, as the whole package does come together nicely — none of those things ever distracted me when I had the watch on the wrist. If you’re interested in owning a watch from one of the big Soviet brands, complete with a robust Soviet movement, the Poljot-International Samara is your chance.