In Part 5 of my neverending Casio Royale modification saga, I showed you how to replace the LCD screen film and reverse the display polarization. This gave me a black display, which made me wonder, in the words of the immortal Nigel Tuffnel, “How much more black could this be?” In the interest of science, I had to find out, so I grabbed a black steel case, a black metal faceplate, and a black bracelet, all ordered for SKXMod.com.
I won’t belabor the parts as I’ve already reviewed them in previous chapters. I covered the SKXMod steel case in detail in Part 4 ($100), and there are only a few key differences. First, as you can see, this one is matte black instead of brightly polished. It’s a good look that is leagues beyond the factory black plastic case. You can also order the aftermarket with black buttons, which I did because … black. That’s my theme, and I’m running with it. This one also boasts SKXMod’s surface treatment that hardens it to 980hv, adding a healthy measure of scratch resistance. I chose one with engraved but unpainted text. They offer it without any text now, but that was not an option when I ordered, and I think the phantom letters look cool.
The black steel bracelet is the one I reviewed in Part 6’s comparison test ($60). Like the case, it is black and hardened but brushed instead of matte.
The faceplate ($25) is SKXMod’s sterile black version in metal. It looks just like a de-badged factory plastic faceplate but with a smooth and even surface. I’ll do a deeper dive into these in a later review.
So, having assembled all the bits, I popped my black LCD display into the black case behind the black plate and strapped that black bracelet onto my wrist and…
Yeah, something was missing. You see, SKXMod has outfitted its replacement cases with sapphire crystals, but they are not anti-reflective coated. It didn’t bother me so much on my shiny silver case with the standard display, but it really stood out on the all-black mod. Homebrew AR-coating is not an option, so I decided to do what would have been my next project anyway: a hydromod.
Hydromodding is the practice of filling your quartz or digital watch with oil (mechanical watches will not survive). The idea and the name come from the Sinn UX Hydro, a quartz dive watch. Adherents claim that the practice increases water resistance, prolongs battery life, and improves visibility. While the first is logical, and the second seems possible, I can personally attest that the third is absolutely true. Oil-filled cases make the dials appear weirdly flat, almost as if their features are closer to the glass, and the off-angle view is free of distortion. It is a very cool effect.
There are two basic techniques. One is to fill the case with a syringe or dropper, bit by bit, until almost overflowing, then seal it up. It takes time, and it is nearly impossible not to leave an air bubble because of the dished shape of the AE1200’s case back. The other way is to immerse the entire watch in oil. Not wanting any bubbles, I chose the latter.
I opened up the case and pulled the module but left the faceplate. I figured getting the air out from behind it would be relatively easy. I placed the case in a small bowl and poured in my oil. There are several options. 3M Fourinert electronic oil is popular, as is silicone oil. You just want something non-conductive, clear, and non-toxic. Viscosity does not matter in this application. I used mineral oil.
You want to pour slowly so you don’t stir up too many air bubbles, but they will happen. I found them easy enough to sweep away from the surface with a toothpick. When that was done, I replaced the module. More bubbles. I poked it a bit until I had released all I could. When I felt confident that all had been squeezed out, I replaced the seal and caseback. Let me tell you, putting those tiny screws in while submerged in a slippery oil bath takes some patience.
Now that everything was buttoned up, it was time to clean off that oil with paper towels, dish soap, and warm water. The modification was complete. I had only one tiny bubble trapped in there, and it disappeared after a day. The filled case looked great. The black got blacker, the reflection inside the glass was gone, and the glare was greatly diminished.
Before
After
It was like dialing up the contrast on a photograph. You sacrifice some nuance and depth but gain definition. All the buttons still worked, as did the light. I just needed to get all of that oil off. I soon learned this was a long-term project.
The oil gets everywhere — I mean everywhere. This is to be expected, but I had no idea how much everywhere can exist in such a small space. It works its way into the recess between the crystal and the bezel. It seeps into the button recesses. What baffled me was the oil that kept appearing from under the bezel. Was it leaking? I reached out to SKXMod, who said they encountered the same thing with their own hydromod experiments. Their case is constructed with a separate bezel that fits into the dial opening from the front and is welded from behind. It makes a solid seal, but there is still a tight space between the two parts. The oil gets into those infinitesimal gaps and takes its sweet time getting out.
After several good washes and some careful swabbing with a sharpened toothpick and alcohol lens wipe cloths, I felt like I had cleaned the majority of it, I then left the case on a paper towel on my desk, and throughout the day, I’d blot it with a dollop of Rodico cleaning putty. This stuff is a godsend and is particularly good at both squishing into crevasses and soaking up tiny smears of oil. After a few days, the slick spots stopped reappearing. If I try this again, I’ll probably fill a Kranio case, as those are machined from a single block, or at least try the dropper method to minimize the mess and to keep the oil away from the buttons.
With this, I think Darth Royale is done. Yes, there is a weird circle near the PM on the display that was not there before, but I’ll live with that. There is no more blackness to add, and I have no intention of opening its messy innards until a battery failure forces me to. With luck, that will be around 2031. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy my badass Casio.
