Let’s talk about reviving brands and models. Something many of us raved about when it began and that many of us are now upset about because too many brands have done it too many times. It was overdone in a matter of a couple of years and its scope was too expansive: from re-editing past designs (which Swiss and Japanese brands were too keen on doing, especially those in the likes of Tissot, Longines, and Seiko with catalogs as thick as old school phone books) and re-imagining previous references to bringing back to life entire brands that were long dead and gone. It was just too much, too quickly, and too everywhere (not a proper phrasing but necessary nonetheless) and so we became tired, feeling a bit of a dagger being plunged into our horological gut each time mainstream watch media would talk about yet another re-edition. 

But—and there is always a but—there is one particular genre of revival which I’m all for: that of a watch that was never mass-produced or even produced at all. Which is why I raved about the Tornek-Rayville Type 7B, why I will be raving about the MKII Fulcrum 39 in the near future (though for sliglty different reasons,) and why I’m raving right now about the Eska Amphibian 250-BS.  The latter is a gem of utilitarian underwater horology from the 1950s, allegedly, only four of which are known to exist in the world, and which by the Horological Gods should have been made into a thing. As it is fashionable to do, the brand was brought back to life after it had ceased to breathe in the 1980s, by two watch collectors and entrepreneurs, but what is different is the fact that they decided to resurrect, modernize, and commercialize the ultra rare Amphibian. 

Doing so was a huge gamble, a risky gamble (so double trouble should they not have been successful), and that’s partly why we’re going to talk about it. 

Specifications

So when we talk about modernizing an old watch, this process often comes with the increase of its dimensions which is true here. The original came with a 38mm diameter and the modern has a 40mm diameter case (so nothing outrageous,) a lug-to-lug of 46mm, a total thickness of 13.5mm, and a lug width of 20mm. The dimensions are the gold standard for contemporary divers (so in the past decade) and match those of popular models from Swiss and Japanese giants. In this article, for once, I thread many connections with other parts of the watch industry I believe to make a point, but that won’t be clear until the end of this review. The Amphibian comes with 250 meters of water resistance (it is tested for 300) hence the inscription on the dial. The original model, by the way, had a depth rating of 600 feet (not meters) hence its inscription on the dial too. 

250 meters is unusual as modern divers tend to boast 200 or 300 of them, and getting this exact rating has to do with the case construction—how thin or thick it is, the profile of the case-back, the thickness of the crystal. The latter is a double-domed piece of sapphire by the way which comes with a few layers of anti-reflective coating. This particular shape of crystal is very much reminiscent of old-school hesalite ones and instantly adds a 20% vintage factor to the Amphibian. Another 20% stems from the semi old-radium/cream colored lume of which there is plenty and some, on the hands, hour markers, and minute markers on the bakelite-looking sapphire bezel insert. The Amphibian actually has a sandwich lume construction for the baton-style markers so that their visual footprint does not equal* that of the large Arabic numerals at the cardinal points. Already a clever design trick which works oh so well. 

If you wish to, you can slide the Eska into the skin diver category, even though the original seemed to have been created in the 1950s**—when dive watches first appeared, you know the super iconic Blancpain Fifty Fathoms and Rolex Submariner—whilst skin divers, if I am correct (and I’m probably ain’t,) came about starting in the 1960s. I mention this because the Amphibian shares a few technical and design traits with skin divers, for example the unguarded screw-down crown which comes with a whopping 6.7mm diameter, the thin and elongated lugs, and the bulbous case-back. The latter has an incredible profile but I will gush over it later on. In terms of movement, the current version of the Amphibian is equipped with a Swiss made Sellita SW200-1 caliber (4Hz/38 hours of power reserve,) and I say "current" because the first versions modern Eska released were fitted with a Seiko NH38A movement. 

*This is good! And we will see why in a second.

**We can only suppose it was designed in the 1950s due to its Blancpain-esque design as the re-creators of Eska couldn’t find any advertisement of the Amphibian. 

Design

Alrighty then, let’s talk design because that’s what we’re mainly here for. Because I always say that you won’t care for the watch if its design doesn’t resonate with you and today this couldn't be more true. The Eska Amphibian 250-BS has a very singular design which you will love or hate. I love it of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you to read this review and I wouldn’t bother writing it. Putting the old with the new side-by-side as you can see below, modern Eska did follow the original as closely as they could in order to revive its charm, and they did it in a way that is, to me, extremely interesting because there are aspects of the old they perfectly reproduced whilst taking a few liberties to make it their own. For example, the aforementioned sandwich lume construction is new and helps in creating a subtle visual hierarchy between the batons and the numerals. 

On the original, all markers commanded equal amounts of the wearer’s attention for being printed on the same plane and in the same manner. On the new, the Arabic numerals are slightly easier to see than the others which, to me, helps in reading the time faster. And this further helps in differentiating the two-hour segments which live in-between the 12, 3, 6, and 9, and again to read the time faster. I don’t know if you noticed the red lines painted at the outer edges of the recessed markers? A tiny design detail which—again!—is different from the original and which further aids in making the dial legible and making the visual hierarchy ever so slightly more pronounced. Another impossible detail to see with the naked eye and which adds 50% brownie points to the owners of modern Eska is the intricate yet subtle play on textures within the hour markers family and the dial itself. 

The Arabic numerals are wide and thick and (pad) printed in a way that they come with the same type of texture as the original did. I would best describe the texture as being that of finely ground gold sugar as it comes with a pearlescent and granular finish, which is indeed reminiscent of the texture of radium painted lume of the 1950s. And there are very fine lines printed in white framing each numeral as it can be seen (upclose) on the vintage model. Conversely, the lume plate located underneath the dial is endowed with a glossy textured finish which, by its location and appearance, does help in creating a contrast with the rest of the dial. The dial comes with a finely sanded matte texture which is quite delightful as well. And the brand name and logo as well as the depth rating are printed crisply on it. 

Last but not least, let’s talk about the case, and in particular, its fabulous case-back. So to me it is bulbous as it is domed—and the dome part begins at the base of the lugs and not only where the screwed-down portion is—and that it has a flat top. Excluding the crystal the entire rear portion of the case occupies half of the total height of the watch which further aids in creating the fab-u-lous bul-bous effect. And I further appreciate the thin and polished mid-case which shoots down towards the wrist, the thin and short profile of the lugs which are brushed on top, and how wide the rotating bezel is. The bezel, on account of its width, material, as well as how flat and close to the edges of the mid-case it sits, adds another 20% vintage factor to the Eska Amphibian 250-BS. The remaining 20% stem from fastening apparatuses the watch comes with***. 

***Either a pale yellow tropic-style FKM rubber strap, a two-piece black seatbelt-like NATO-style strap (a delight) and the optional ladder-style stainless bracelet which is light, comfy, and well-manufactured. 

The Heart of the Matter

At the heart of the matter is the fact that the Eska Amphibian 250 is a sort of UFO in the trendy world of reviving the old. As far as we know and can tell, the Amphibian 600 was just a prototype Eska never put into production. Why that is will remain a complete mystery until the end of mankind and it’s ok. What we can assume, however, is that it inscribed itself within the horological design zeitgeist of the 1950s/early 1960s, the time of the first professional dive watches, the beginning of commercial underwater exploration, and when watch brands could create anything they wished as nothing had existed before. What we know from the original Eska Amphibian is that it measured 38mm in diameter, had a seriously domed hesalite crystal, radium-painted hands and hour markers, a rare AS 1382 N (A. Schield) caliber, and that only four of them are known to exist in the world. That is a wild fact to base a recreation from. 

It turns out I didn’t make as many allusions to the rest of the watch industry as I thought I would, but the idea of doing so, I believe, was to demonstrate how unique the original Amphibian 600 was, on account of its design which is indeed reminiscent of the first Blancpain diver, the Fifty Fathoms which is so iconic that quite a few contemporary watch brands homaged it, and of its proportions and functionality. Even the aforementioned Blancpain had a count-up bezel whilst the Amphibian had a count-down one—so does the modern version—which was and still is rare today for a dive watch. (This type of bezel is generally assimilated to pilot watches.) In other words, the Eska Amphibian 250-BS is a sort of Fifty Fathoms we can buy and own as it was a genuine design from a brand that wasn’t Blancpain but which model is endowed with the exact same cool factor as the former does. 

Does that make sense? I hope so. 

Conclusion 

So we can look at the new Eska Amphibian 250-BS as both being a nod to an unknown and niche past and as a modern diver from the second half of the 21st century. One that comes with all of the good specs we expect to see in a tool watch today—good movement, incredible lume, superlative legibility, sapphire crystal, and functional bezel (endowed, by the way, with 120 solid clicks)—which clearly is anchored into the 1950s by way of its design. The Amphibian 250-BS is a superb creation that will set you back a reasonable $1,125 USD (including VAT) which I believe is a fair price to ask on account of the build quality, the singularity of the design (which required that all elements of the watch be custom-made for Eska,) and its good spec sheet. 

The two humans who recreated Eska did indeed make a huge gamble by reviving an unknown diver from a brand you have never heard of, and by working out all design and technical details to such minutiae. Lastly, Eska also makes a white version of the Amphibian and did a couple of limited editions. 

Thanks for reading.