The caseback says R.W. Weldon. Engraved in a flowing italic that someone paid a jeweler to cut, probably in the mid 1950s, when this Cyma Watersport was new and Mr. or Ms. Weldon wanted their name on the back of it. Seventy years later, the engraving is still crisp, the Cyma Watersport still runs on its bumper automatic, and the dial has aged into a uniform caramel lume patina that reads as honestly as anything we have seen on this caliber. In our opinion, that is the whole story of why someone collects a watch like this.
Cyma was founded in 1862 in Le Locle by the Schwob brothers, Joseph and Théodore, and by the 1920s the company was running over a thousand workers across two factories and distributing through Tavannes in markets where the Cyma name did not carry. Through both World Wars Cyma supplied military contracts to multiple Allied governments, most notably as one of the twelve W.W.W. contractors for the British Ministry of Defence, the so-called Dirty Dozen field watches. The Watersport line came later, postwar, when Cyma was repositioning toward leisure and active wear at the same moment the rest of the market was.
The movement is the Cal. R420, and it is the part of this watch we would argue for hardest. Cyma’s first automatic, the R420 (also catalogued as caliber 420) was a bumper, which means the oscillating weight does not spin freely all the way around. It travels back and forth in a limited arc, slamming into spring buffers at each end and rebounding the other way. You feel it on the wrist. There is a small, gentle thud each time the rotor reverses, a sensation no full-rotor automatic produces, and that anyone who has worn an early Hamilton 661 or an Eterna 1247K knows immediately. Seventeen jewels, 18,000 vibrations per hour, around forty hours of reserve when fully wound, and a plate-and-bridge architecture finished in the warm rose gold tone Cyma favored on this generation. Pull the back off this watch and you get the whole effect. The Cyma crest sits on the upper bridge, and the bumper rotor sweeps the left side of the plate.
The case is stainless steel, brushed across the band with the polished tops of the faceted lugs catching light at angles. It is a slim profile by today’s standards, wearing about 35mm by the proportions, and it has the kind of honest surface character you would expect from a watch that has lived a life. The bevels still read clean, and the case has not been polished into a softened shape. The outer caseback carries R.W. WELDON in that engraved italic across the center, with eight evenly spaced dark inset marks around the perimeter. Pop the back off and the inner caseback reads CYMA WATCH CO. inside an oval crest at top, then SWISS MADE, then STAINLESS STEEL, then 2 . 1221 . 6 with the case serial 964 below, all set against Cyma’s signature circular engine-turned waves.
The dial is warm ivory, a single matte zone with the fine scattered speckling that says it is seventy years old and was printed with materials no one uses anymore. Applied metal Arabic numerals sit at twelve, three, six, and nine, with applied dart-shaped indices at the eight remaining hours. The lume fills inside the numerals and arrows have aged uniformly into a deep caramel, almost the same warm tan you would see on a properly broken-in vintage strap. Above center, the CYMA logo in applied metal letters. Below center, Automatic in italic script and WATERSPORT in block capitals, both printed in black and legible across the dial. Broad dauphine hour and minute hands with matching aged lume, a slender straight seconds hand, and a small reddish dot at the central pinion that you only see when you really look. The minute track around the perimeter is unbroken.
It comes on an olive-brown leather strap with light cream contrast stitching that picks up the warm tan of the dial lume in a way that works honestly. The leather has some character of its own, with grain texture and edge softening that suits the watch. If you wanted to swap to a tropic-style rubber, a thicker calfskin, or a heavy waxed canvas, the proportions and the 1950s active-watch positioning give you a lot of latitude.
Serviced in-house at OTTUHR and backed by our 2-year mechanical warranty. For the collector who values mechanical character over case condition, provenance over polish, and the small tactile thrill of a bumper rotor over the smooth indifference of a modern automatic, this Cyma Watersport offers a complete experience. R.W. Weldon’s name is on the back. The R420 is still pushing back and forth underneath. To us, that is not a starter vintage piece. It is the watch you keep.
