Repairing a geometric Jules Jürgensen (ETA cal. 2788)

There’s something about watches from the 1960s and ’70s with retro styling that gives me a buzz. Recently a watch came up for sale that had a squarish “TV-style” case, blocky index markers and other geometric features that seemed to call out to me. Despite not knowing anything about the Jules Jürgensen brand, I was compelled to get hold of it as one of my projects. What would I encounter while trying to repair this funky timepiece for my wrist?

A long history

I did some research online to find out more about Jules Jürgensen as a brand. The Jürgensen family was one of the oldest watchmaking dynasties in the world, having a lineage going back to the mid-1700s in Denmark. By 1830, Jules and his brother were running their father’s company “Urban Jürgensen and Sønner”, and then a few years after that, Jules had started creating timepieces in Switzerland under his own name.

Jules Jürgensen platinum-cased pocket watch from the 1920s. Source: eBay

By 1912, the final member of the Jürgensen family had passed away, however the Jules Jürgensen brand continued up until the Depression of the 1930s when it was eventually sold to an American company. In the following period it changed hands numerous times and saw the introduction of movements from other manufacturers to reduce costs and simplify production.

With the passing of the final American owner in 2010, Jules Jürgensen finally ended. But that wasn’t the end of the story – the rights to the brand were then bought by Urban Jürgensen and Sønner, still an active company in Europe. UJS returned to Danish ownership in 2014 and now produces high-end watches, but they’ve not as yet revived the Jules Jürgensen brand in itself.

Trendy rectangles

So the watch on my bench had come with a long pedigree, but by the 1960s and ’70s the brand had become less innovative, settling into making mid-range watches that echoed style trends of the time. For the geometric design on my particular watch, Jules Jürgensen seem to have taken inspiration from the Rado Manhattan, a model that introduced the unusual combination of a rectangular case and chunky indices in a rectilinear pattern.

The popularity of the styling led other brands to make their own “homages”, the most well-known coming from Seiko’s affordable Seiko 5 range, but derivatives were also offered by Raketa, Titoni and many other minor brands.

Rectangular Rado Manhattan. Source: eBay
Later Rado Manhattan V with a more tonneau-shaped case. Source: eBay

Turning to Jules Jürgensen’s version, I think theirs is a unique interpretation with its variously-sized index blocks tied together with an orange rectangle, and addition of a central light-coloured square. In my opinion the dial would have been neater if the 9 o’clock index was deleted and the brand name moved into its place, although this would have made it more similar to the Rado. Regardless of these minor details, it’s clear that this style of dial doesn’t make it easy to tell the time with much accuracy!

Assessment

Let’s look at the rest of the watch. The rear of the case revealed the brand’s scripted logo and coat of arms. The engraving was difficult to see clearly.

The case was all stainless steel but had a large opening for the stem to pass through, and it also used a snap-on case back that doubled as a movement holder. This arrangement meant the case had zero water resistance, but more importantly, the movement and dial weren’t secured to the case in any other way. If the back wasn’t closed properly, these components could move around, or in a worse case scenario (say if the watch was dropped) even fall out!

Opening the case revealed a Swiss ETA 2788 calibre, a common choice for its time providing good reliability and performance. Its drawback when compared to the higher-spec 2789 movement was the lack of a day quickset. While it was easy for the date to be directly adjusted, adjusting the day required constant turning of the hands to advance the hours until the correct day was shown. Quite annoying if the watch hadn’t been running for a few days. But the movement tried to make up for it by looking attractive with its gold-coloured plating.

The movement and dial were simply flipped out, which revealed the poor state of the dial face.

There were a range of issues: damage from where it had been rubbing against the case; cracked and discoloured lacquer; and an infiltration of green corrosion. I suspect the dial had a more silver appearance originally, not the patchy champagne and green colours it had taken on. All of these issues would be a challenge to sort out.

Setting aside the dial, the movement was assessed on the timegrapher to see how it was performing. It wasn’t too bad, with Dial Up measuring around +12 secs/day at 280° amplitude and 0.4 ms of beat error. This was a good sign that the movement might only need a clean, oil and a slight regulation adjustment to improve it.

Dismantling

So with the assessment done, the dismantling process was started. The first step was to remove the calendar works. Here is the movement with the day disc removed.

At this early point in the process, I came across an old nemesis – the date jumper spring. While previously working on a similar 2789 movement (see here), this notorious little bugger shot out of my tweezers, never to be found. This time I was extra careful when handling it.

The rest of the calendar and motion works were removed. The movement was then turned over to begin work on the reverse side. Here is the movement with the oscillating weight removed.

The first noticeable issue was the damaged screw heads, caused by poorly fitting screwdrivers. The damage really detracts from the otherwise nice appearance of the blue screws against the gold-coloured movement. It also makes it harder not to cause further damage as screwdrivers can now slip more easily.

Here, the automatic works, barrel bridge and balance have been removed.

The mainspring barrel was opened to see what horrors might be lurking inside, but it wasn’t too scary. There was a bit of wear on the barrel surfaces but nothing serious.

Once the mainspring was removed, I could see that it wasn’t sitting flat. Ideally it would be replaced with a new one, but I wondered if it could be manipulated to improve its flatness. I gave it a go, and it seemed to look better (but I didn’t take a photo so you’ll just have to believe me…). I also wiped down the worst of the gunk so it wouldn’t significantly contaminate my cleaning fluids in the cleaning machine.

And here are all the parts ready for cleaning. The balance was reinstalled on the mainplate (minus the shock protection jewels) to protect it while swishing around in the cleaning machine.

Microscopic discoveries

I had my birthday recently, and my family were very generous to get me a fancy microscope as a gift! It can magnify between 20X and 40X which will make it much easier to inspect parts for cleanliness and wear, especially things like pallet levers and cap jewels.

So after the parts were cleaned in the machine, I took them out and inspected them individually under the microscope. Some parts were fine, like the escape wheel.

Escape wheel at 20X magnification

Other parts were not as fine, like the ratchet wheel.

Ratchet wheel at 40X magnification

The teeth on the ratchet wheel had tiny white flakes attached to it. Other brass parts had the same issue, as well as the jewels. Looking closely at the cleaning fluids I couldn’t see anything inside floating around, so the origin of the flakes was a mystery. I found myself having to clean the affected parts by hand with brushes, pegwood, Rodico and methylated spirits (except on the pallet lever – metho dissolves shellac). This was a long and tedious process.

With a bit of research, I concluded that the flakes were probably tiny pieces of wax created by my cleaning fluids. In an attempt to save money I’ve been making my own solutions using recipes found online and solvents obtained easily from the hardware store. They’re made with various proportions of shellite, odourless mineral turpentine and trace amounts of isopropyl alcohol and olive oil, in an attempt to replicate the contents of genuine cleaning fluids.

Many people seem to get good results with these mixes but others haven’t had much luck. There was some discussion about mineral turps leaving behind a waxy residue if it wasn’t well-refined – could this be the problem? One test was to freeze the solutions and see if any wax formed, but when I gave this a go, no wax formed. I also didn’t have access to other brands of solvents to check if they were any better.

My theory is that the flakes are being created during the cleaning process while the fluids are swishing around – this would explain why the fluids appear clear at rest. Also the problem was most obvious around small parts and in particular the teeth of brass wheels. Maybe this is due to small eddies being created and setting up just the right conditions for wax flakes to form. Maybe temperature also plays a part? This would be an interesting problem to investigate more deeply.

Alas I’m not a chemist, so I decided that I would get myself proper cleaning fluids for future projects. Even though expensive, they would eliminate any doubt as to their effectiveness, and it would save me from having to clean away pesky little flakes!

Reassembly

Now with the parts finally clean, reassembly could begin. The mainspring was greased, and after applying braking grease to the barrel wall, the mainspring was reinstalled. It appeared to sit quite flat which meant my earlier manipulation efforts had met with some success.

Here are the keyless works being installed. The yoke spring is the first of many springs that likes to fly into oblivion if not handled carefully.

And here’s the click spring. When behaving itself, it sits beneath the click and is held in place by a retaining arm and screw.

Here are the train wheels installed, as well as the barrel, barrel bridge, ratchet and crown wheels.

One thing I hadn’t done yet was install the balance shock-protection jewels. These were covered in those waxy flakes and needed 30 mins in the ultrasonic cleaner with acetone to finally get them spotless. This also revealed that one cap jewel contained a dimple due to wear, so it would need replacing. I was able to take one from the 2789 practice movement I’d worked on as the jewel was identical and in good condition.

The shock-protection jewels were oiled, and after installing these together with the balance onto the movement, the movement had returned to life. Time to put it on the timegrapher to regulate it.

After a few attempts, I managed to get it to +2 secs/day with 0.0 ms beat error in Dial Up position. The amplitude was a healthy average of 305°, which was great considering the issues with the old mainspring. In other positions the beat error increased slightly to 0.2 ms but it was still acceptable, while timing varied between -6 to +4 secs/day. Amplitude in the vertical positions was between 265° and 275°. All of this made me happy.

The remaining parts on the movement were now installed: the automatic works, motion works and calendar works. And here we were confronted by our old nemesis again: the date jumper spring. This time it was smothered with Rodico so it couldn’t fly away while I fought against its resistance to be installed. Thankfully it didn’t disappear this time .

The dial

The real challenge was next – cleaning up the dial. Here it is in its ‘before’ state.

Dial cleaning can be contentious amongst watch restorers and collectors. Flaws on dials resulting from dirt or age can sometimes be quite attractive, and many people have come to appreciate the ‘patina’ of these old dials. Cleaning is also risky as it can accidentally remove lacquer or printing, causing irretrievable damage. In this case I was willing to attempt it as I didn’t find the patina very attractive and I was keen to see the dial as originally intended, without any aged lacquer or corrosion. I would also be very careful while doing it…

Using cotton buds, I first tried a few gentle cleaners: water, Windex (a mild ammonia-based glass cleaner), and even spit (yes, it has natural enzymes with mild cleaning properties). None of these did much in spite of my rubbing efforts.

Deciding that I really wanted to remove the lacquer, I chose to be naughty and brought out the solvents. I’ll just say now – I strongly recommend that you DO NOT use solvents – there is a supreme chance of permanent damage to anything printed on the dial. While solvents are good at dissolving things like lacquer, they also dissolve printed lettering and lines. On this dial, the printed features had been placed on top of the lacquer so they would be even more susceptible to damage. This meant I could only rub the lacquer around the edges where it was cracked and dirty, and not rub other areas where it was close to printed features.

The solvents I tried were methylated spirits, then isopropyl alcohol, and finally acetone (I can just sense the outrage amongst some readers). These spread out easily so it was a challenge to avoid damaging the printing. One corner of the rectangle did start to soften but didn’t cause much damage, while some letters in the “Swiss Made” text did end up getting lost.

The final result: a reasonably clean dial with no green gunk or cracked lacquer, but the dial was far from perfect.

There were differences in colour between the remaining lacquer and the bare metal areas, but I figured it wouldn’t be too noticeable once the dial was back in the case.

The dial should have ideally received a fresh coat of lacquer, but I don’t have the space or equipment for doing this. Perhaps it’s a task that can be tackled in the future. Finally the indices were cleaned with Rodico, returning a nice shine to them.

Casing up

The case parts were cleaned in the ultrasonic cleaner, and the case’s polished surfaces given a light going over by hand with metal polish. I didn’t intend to remove all the scratches but just make it more presentable.

The dial was refitted to the movement and the hands reinstalled. The blocky indices didn’t offer much clearance for the minute hand above it!

The dial and movement were then simply plonked in the case, ready for the snap-in back to secure them in place.

And here it is all back together. It didn’t look too bad.

Now for the finishing touch – the watch band. I’d spent some time trying to work out what to use, whether it be a leather strap or a metal bracelet. It was a tricky choice as the lug width was a massive 24mm (most watches use 20mm straps) so whatever was selected would become a prominent part of the watch. I felt a large leather strap wouldn’t suit the watch as much as a large bracelet, so I decided on the bracelet.

There are many bracelet designs around but I went with an ‘Engineer’ bracelet as the flat, evenly spaced links gave it a blocky appearance that could work really well with the blocky dial features. The final result was quite bold, and perhaps a bit over the top…

Project reflections

I have to admit I haven’t worn the watch outside yet; having it on feels like I’m hosting a celebration of stainless steel, and it might draw a little too much attention! But I like the way the bracelet pairs with the watch and works to update its appearance. A possible alternative to the bracelet could be a leather strap that tapers down from 24mm to 20mm – I wasn’t aware that such straps existed when I first started looking. This might help to tone down the dazzle, so I’ll see if I can find one that suits.

It would be interesting to explore proper dial restoration techniques as I suspect I’d enjoy returning unsightly dials back to original condition. There are specialists who can strip a dial back to bare metal before applying new coatings and new printing to accurately match the original. While I acknowledge that some dials should be left in their patinated glory, a high-quality restoration can bring life back to otherwise unappealing watches.

The issues I had with my home-made cleaning fluids made me wonder about the cleanliness of parts in my previous projects, although I’ve only used the cleaning machine with these fluids a few times since getting the machine working. Hopefully the switch to genuine fluids as well as using the microscope to inspect parts will eliminate any issues going forward.

While this Jules Jürgensen was ultimately built to a budget, it did offer a stainless steel case, a reliable movement and trendy geometric styling that would have appealed to some people. It certainly appeals to me, and over the course of this project I’ve enjoyed discovering more about the brand and also finding out what else the watch offered beyond its blocky looks.


Please note I have no affiliations with any of the brands or links mentioned in this post.

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