Josh Wussow

Josh Wussow is a freelance writer, reviewer, and the questionable mind behind JourneywindJunk, a blog that EveryDayCommentary calls "smashingly fun to read." His more respectable work is published over at GearJunkie, as well as here on BladeReviews. See what he's up to on his Instagram page, @JourneywindJunk.

ESEE Laser Strike Review

by Josh Wussow 9 Comments

Alright, I’ll admit it – I’m a huge fan of ESEE Knives. I own a Candiru, Izula-2, and JG3, and I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing an exquisite PR4. So, when the opportunity to sample their Laser Strike model landed in my inbox, you can guess the speed of my reply.

Buy the ESEE Laser Strike at BladeHQ

Buy on Amazon

While I’m hardly alone in this enthusiasm, much of the halo surrounding ESEE comes from inside the blade-enthusiast bubble. Their American-made pedigree and bulletproof warranty are great for nerds like me, but what about the regular folks who buy their camp knives at Walmart? Tell them you spent $115 on an outdoor blade, and they’ll shoot you some pretty strange looks.

I know this, because it’s exactly what I did. After a few weekends racing around the yard, the Laser Strike’s final lap came on an overnight trip to Devil’s Lake State Park in Wisconsin. A few of my friends were testing their camping kits, and they invited me along for the ride. We had a wonderful evening exchanging questionable decisions: Me, teaching them how to baton through logs and them introducing me to, well…

Don’t drink and play with knives, kids. Now, onward before that stuff kicks in.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

In a brand known for its rugged offerings, the Laser Strike stands out as a damage-duty champ. You’re looking at 10-inches of full tang 1095 carbon steel, with a blade nearly as thick as three US quarters stacked together (0.188-inches).

The blade length is a rangy 4.75-inches, 4.5 of which are sharpened. Its flat grind features ESEE’s rugged “Black Textured Powder Coat” over a 1.38-inch width, broken only by the maker’s marks. The knife’s total weight is 9.5-ounces, which is around half as much as a youth-sized aluminum baseball bat.

Now, let me be clear about the provenance of this particular tool. ESEE was kind enough to send it to notorious Youtuber and (I’m directly quoting him here) “big piece of doo doo” Advanced Knife Bro, who agreed to send it my way after mercilessly pummeling it.

As expected, the blade arrived in need of some love. But, that’s one of the beauties of 1095 – It’s easy to whip back into shape. A quick cleaning and Sharpmaker session were all it took to bring the edge back to shaving sharp. But, with a pile of firewood in the garage and a camping trip on the horizon, it didn’t stay that way for long.

So, how did it do with fire prep? Come on – It’s an ESEE. It powered through a half-dozen camp logs without so much as a hiccup. What really shocked me was its prowess at the picnic table. Our menu on this mosquito-rich evening featured ribeye steaks and flame-grilled veggies. I was recruited to help slice onions, peppers, and mushrooms on a small cutting board, which was probably just as thick as the ESEE’s blade. Here’s how things turned out:

Surprised? I certainly was. While it’s certainly no santoku, the Laser Strike turned out to be a more than adequate prep tool. And this was after I’d batoned through several pieces of damp firewood. You won’t be producing translucent onion slices, but for rustic fare like this, the ESEE is surprisingly adept.

Handle and Ergonomics

I love the way that ESEE’s tend to hold my hand. Is that creepy? Too bad, the statement stands. The company’s canvas micarta is on point, and the forward choil fits my index finger perfectly. I also enjoyed the widely spaced jimping, positioned at the step-down transition from blade to handle. It provides excellent traction for my thumb without any discernable discomfort.

A quick aside, for the sake of comparison: I took several knives on this camping trip, including my beloved L.T. Wright GNS and the Condor Swamp Romper (which I gave away to a buddy who didn’t know any better). I encouraged my friends to handle each blade, and the Laser Strike’s scales were the runaway favorite. This could be considered anecdotal, sure, but it was interesting to get some perspective from folks who’re just getting into the knife hobby.

Now, let’s take a moment to discuss the stuff inside the handle. See that metal washer hanging from the base of the sheath? Well, it’s not just for show. This metal disc acts as a flathead driver, allowing you to remove the handle scales. Stowed within are a fire steel and a couple tinder pellets, all included as part of the overall package.

This further pushes the Laser Strike’s “Survival Knife” image, though I do have a few qualms. While certainly serviceable, this small fire steel is pretty difficult to spark. And, given the powder coat, the only available striking surface is (shudder) the blade edge. Sure, the sharpening choil might work, but I’d need to be in a real-life “Fire or I perish” sort of situation before doing that much damage to the cutting surface.

The Laser Strike has another option built in. See that divot on the right handle scale? That’s for a bow drill, allowing you to make fire in an even more bushcraft-friendly fashion. Inefficient? Sure, but 100% cool.

Sheath

The Laser Strike ships with a black Kydex sheath setup, including an ambidextrous clip plate and the aforementioned lanyard/washer combo. It’s a far cry from the leather of the Camp Lore knives I’ve been testing, falling more into the ESEE’s number-knife family (3, 4, 5, etc.).

Retention on the Kydex is good, though it’s absolutely possible to shake 9.5 ounces of knife out of its grip with enough downward thrust. Tension can be adjusted using the sliding screw and washer above the choil area, so you can tighten things up if you feel the need. I like ride height, despite my usual preference for leather danglers. It also manages to be fairly slim, making the knife carry much easier than one would expect from a blade of this heft.

ESEE Laser Strike Review – Final Thoughts

Going into this review, I had no doubts about the Laser Strike’s capabilities as a field-first tool. But it impressed me in every application, from batoning to carving to cooking. Expectations aside, part of the joy of this particular test came from the look on my friends’ faces as they watched me hammer it through our firewood, and the smiles when I handed it over and said “Give it a shot.” Being able to follow up with “You’re not going to break it” and watching them realize it was true – Man, that was a neat moment.

Sufficed to say, I’m completely sold on the Laser Strike as a heavy-duty hacker. It’s not going to replace your smaller blades for ultralight outings and day hikes, but it’s a super-solid addition to a hard-use loadout or car camping kit.

Thanks again to ESEE Knives and Advanced Knife Bro for allowing me to check it out.

Sale

Laser Strike Knife, Black Blade, Micarta Handles, Kydex Sheath

Made in: USA
Category name: knives
Made in USA or imported

Editor: I recommend purchasing the ESEE Laser Strike at Amazon or BladeHQ. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Platinum 3776 Century Fountain Pen Review

by Josh Wussow 2 Comments

The Platinum 3776 Century sits at an interesting crossroad in my personal gear journey. Drawing its name from the elevation of Mt. Fuji, it embodies several things I enjoy: Japanese craftsmanship (in food, tools, and monster movies), writing (especially with fountain pens), and wine (reds, in particular). Given that it came along at the peak of my interest in nibs and ink, we were bound to wind up together.

Buy on Amazon

So, how much does all this serendipity cost? Get ready: 180 American dollars. Now, I didn’t pay anywhere near that. This particular wine-red model (known as the Bourgogne) cost me almost a century less – Just under $80 on Amazon. Here’s my full review of the Platinum 3776 Century after more than six months of use.

General Dimensions and Details

If I was asked to close my eyes and picture a fountain pen, my mind would conjure up an image very much like the Century. Its rounded cigar shape, translucent resin, and tasteful branding all fall into the comforting realm of clean-cut familiarity.

Pen dimensions! Here we go: The overall length of this mental picture is 5.5-inches with the cap screwed into place, or 6.3 with it posted and ready to write. The diameter of the grip area is 0.4-inches, with the body widening out to 0.5. Overall weight is a scant 0.7 ounces, excluding the minimal heft of the ink. Speaking of which, the pen’s liquid capacity varies depending on your fill method: 1.27-miliiters for Platinum’s proprietary cartridges, or 0.82ml with the converter.

Let’s dive into some of the details. Take a look at the ring around the base of the cap. It reads, “#3776 PLATINUM – MADE IN JAPAN.” There’s another logo and symbol in there, but the overall effect of the printing and text is very nice. I enjoy the little gold rings on the cap and body, too. They really pop against the wine-red resin, creating a premium look in just about any light. The same is true of the clip, which is polished enough to give off a reflection reminiscent of a funhouse mirror.

The nib, too, is nicely detailed. You’ve got a pair of mountainous-looking lines above a heart-shaped breather hole, and more tasteful branding. And see that “14K” mark? That’s right – This is a real-life golden nib! We’ll come back to its function later, but Platinum nailed the form factory with this pen.

Ergonomics and Capping

The care shown in the Century’s design caries over from the visual to the tactile. The smooth texture of its burgundy surface is welcoming to the hand, and its forward grip section offers just enough purchase for my medium/large hand. The threading can be a touch sharp if your fingers back out of position, but the overall ergos are strong.

But here’s the Century’s party trick: See that spring assembly inside the upper portion of the cap? That’s Platinum’s patented “Slip & Seal” mechanism. It creates a seal inside, restricting air flow to the nib. This, if you believe the marketing literature, will help keep that 14-karat tip inked for up to 24 months.

Obviously, I haven’t been able to fully vet this claim. But I can tell you that, even after a month of rest in my pen case, the Century has yet to give me a dry start. I’m inclined to give credence to the better part of Platinum’s claim.

Writing and Filling

After examining the pen from cap to post, it’s time to get to the point. Specifically, we need to talk about that fancy gold nib. For all its beauty and detail work, it’s not that great of a writer. Disappointing, right? But, let’s add a little color to this dreary statement.

First, I should clarify by saying that it’s still a more pleasurable writer than any ballpoint, rollerball, or gel pen in existence. The Diamine Blue Velvet ink flows nicely from the medium nib, with a good amount of color shading in its lines. It should be noted that, as with most Japanese pens, their “Medium” size is akin to a “Fine” nib from other manufacturers. But the problem here isn’t in the pen’s ability to lay down lines – It’s the AM-radio static it sends coursing up from the nib and into my hand. The feedback from this supposedly premium writer was so bad, in fact, that I sent the first pen back to its Amazon seller. The replacement that came a few days later was slightly better, but still scratchier than a humble Lamy Safari.

On the plus side, this taught me a thing or two about nib tuning. I grabbed some emery boards and micromesh and was able to smooth out the writing experience. But, even after these adjustments, I still can’t use this on my favorite Strathmore letter paper. The rough-ish texture of the stationary doesn’t play well with the Platinum.

There’s still some good here, though. While the fine-ish tip isn’t great for premium paper, it somehow pairs well with standard legal pads and notebooks. The feedback is also greatly reduced with my Clairfontaine Triomphe, which offers a much smoother surface. And, while I actually get better line variation with my Faber-Castell Loom and TWSBI ECO, the Century’s shading ability creates some really beautiful visual texturing.

A few quick words on filling. While you can always opt for Platinum’s proprietary cartridges, I paid $7 for a converter on Amazon. It’s a simple screw and piston affair, and I’ve had no issues with bottled ink.

Platinum 3776 Century Review – Final Thoughts

The Century and I have developed a deep love/hate relationship, more so than any other piece of gear in my collection. I love its look, feel, and style, but the limited writing utility makes it a truly frustrating piece. As such, I can’t recommend this particular pen. Especially not at its $180 retail price, which is absolutely unacceptable. I paid nearly $100 less, and I still feel like I’ve been taken for a ride. An elegant and occasionally beautiful ride, sure, but a disappointing trip all the same. If you’re looking to take your pen hobby to new heights, I’d avoid this Platinum’s particular mountain.

Platinum Fountain Pen # 3776 Century Chartres Blue MediumPNB-10000#51-3 (Japan Import)

This refurbished product is tested and certified to look and work like new. The refurbishing process includes functionality testing, basic cleaning, inspection, and repackaging. The product ships with all relevant accessories, and may arrive in a generic box

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Platinum 3776 Century at Amazon. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Giant Mouse ACE Nimbus Review

by Josh Wussow 1 Comment

Last Updated August 14, 2019
Few names in the knife world garner as much respect as Jesper Voxnaes and Jens Anso. Together, they’re a veritable dynamic duo of knife design. So, when the folks at Giant Mouse Knives agreed to send over a loaner of the pair’s new ACE Nimbus model, the clouds parted and I beheld the aura of a truly excellent EDC blade.

Buy the Giant Mouse ACE Nibus at BladeHQ

Mythical and meteorological references aside, this is a surprisingly grounded tool. Based off a venerable midcentury motorcycle, Anso and Vox drew inspiration from the “rugged, utilitarian design objectives of the Nimbus.” The Giant Mouse website hails it as their “take on a great tool knife… the kind of knife you will love to use for years to come.”

General Dimensions and Blade Details

Let’s start with the Nimbus’ centerpiece – Three inches of flat-ground Bohler M390. This beautiful blade is a full inch tall, with a thickness of 0.14 at its well-chamfered peak. The satin finish provides a glow worthy of its namesake’s Merriam-Webster definition, with beautifully etched logos on the clip side. The teardrop opening hole is rounded along its top (where your finger is most likely to make contact), though the lower edge has been left square.

Behind the blade, users will be treated to 4.25-inches of textured G-10, with stainless steel liners and a reversable wire pocket clip. The Nimbus is fairly wide through the hips, exactly twice as tall in the handle (1.1”) as it is across (0.55”). This brings the weight to a not-inconsiderable 4.04-ounces – Hefty, but not bad for a heavy-use tool.

And indeed, this is how Giant Mouse wants us to consider the Nimbus. They advertise it as “the knife you’ll want to keep in your winter coat, backpack, working jeans or toolbox.” In that vein, here’s a comparison with the two other folders I reach for when the going gets tough: The Spyderco Native 5 and Zero Tolerance 0562.

So, how does it perform? Honestly, this one took a while to grow on me. The blade felt undersized at first, struggling to straddle apples and medium sized onions. The turning point came in the form of several large bookshelf boxes from my construction trailer. These paper behemoths fell to pieces in the face of the Nimbus. Its tall edge glided through six-foot swaths of quarter-inch cardboard, almost reminiscent of a razor knife. Consider me sold.

Performance aside, there are additional advantages to a sub-3.5 blade, legality being foremost among them. From city warehouses to country cabins, it’s a knife that can go where the work is.

A few nitpicks: While I love the cutting capability, I actually feel that the blade may be a little under-branded. The ACE and Giant Mouse logos are great, but the show side has been left completely blank. I’d like to see these split, perhaps with one logo on each side, in addition to a mark announcing the M390 steel.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

The Nimbus is a nice match for my medium/large hand. The humpback design creates a solid grip, especially when paired with the handle’s overall thickness. The thumb jimping is perfectly placed, just forward of the opening hole. The texturing of the G-10 is sublime, marking a nice balance between smoothness and grip. I’d compare it to the feeling of a Micarta handle from ESEE, making it a bit softer than the G-10 on the ZT 0562 shown above.

The weakest point of this ACE’s ergos lies in its lockbar. The slight scallops cut for thumb traction tend to rest in the joint of my index finger, causing a bit of a sawing effect under heavy grip. It’s not a major issue, and just mentioning it makes it sound like more of an issue than it really is. At no point did I develop a skin irritation because of this bit of texturing. Still, you’ll certainly know it’s there.

Speaking of touchy spots, take a look at the tip in the photo below. More specifically, check out how close it is to the top of the liners.

Yeesh. While it’s not close enough to catch a finger as it slides across the surface, this is my strongest criticism of the knife. A slight alteration in the blade’s angle would have dropped the point safely beneath the surface. As it is, it’s not close enough to be considered a fatal flaw. But you’ll definitely want to mind the gap, as our British friends say.

The wire clip, too, is something of a conundrum. While I’m a huge fan of its overall design and deep-carry function, it does create a minor hotspot in the palm. The pros outweigh the cons here, so I’m happy with it overall.

Let’s take a moment to talk about the internals. The folks at Giant Mouse were kind enough to allow me to take the Nimbus apart, and I’m very glad they did. Take a look at the full breakdown:

Beyond the solidity of its machining, there’s some excellent detail work here. The badging on the liners is very attractive, and obviously meant to be enjoyed by tinkerers such as myself. Then there are the washers, inset with a race track for the bearings. There’s so much to like here, and the disassembly process is relatively straightforward. My lone complaint lies in the free-spinning pivot, which requires a TORX driver on both sides for takedown and dial-in. Otherwise, this knife’s maintenance process was a breeze.

Deployment and Lockup

Giant Mouse said it best themselves: “If you are looking for a trick knife to middle-finger flick and play with during office breaks, we have other options coming in the ACE-line.” This held true throughout my time with the Nimbus.

While the finger hole is certainly capable of producing snappy opens, this isn’t exactly a fidget-friendly tool. For one, the lack of a flipper tab/blade guard makes it possible to flick the edge down onto your thumb during closure. It didn’t happen to me, but careless users may find themselves with a nick or two if they’re not careful. This isn’t something I’d consider as a flaw, especially since Giant Mouse straight up warns you that this is a function-first knife. Still, lockup is solid and satisfying, with the linerlock leaf snapping into place flush with the clip side of the blade tang.

Dialing the action in can take a bit after disassembly, due to the nature of a free-spinning pivot. But once you have the screws in right, you’re left with nothing but smooth solidity.

Giant Mouse ACE Nimbus Review – Final Thoughts

The Nimbus looks, feels, and cuts like a $175 knife – Every inch, every penny. From its excellent construction to the thoughtfulness of its design, this is a rare case where the silver linings outshine whatever troubles make up the cloud. Fans of Anso and Voxnaes will find a lot to like here, and newcomers can use it as a primer for their design philosophy. At the risk of making a pun, the folks at Giant Mouse… Well, they ACE’d it.

Giant Mouse ACE Nimbus – From $175.00
From: BladeHQ

I recommend purchasing the Giant Mouse ACE Nimbus at BladeHQ or Amazon. Thanks for reading.

Kershaw Concierge Knife Review

by Josh Wussow Leave a Comment

Dmitry Sinkevich and Kershaw are on a roll. Following the success of the critically-acclaimed Atmos, they’re leaping back into service with the Concierge – A slightly larger pocket knife boasting the same sci-fi elegance and everyday accessibility.

[easyazon_cta add_to_cart=”default” align=”center” asin=”B07BC93ML6″ cloaking=”default” height=”42″ key=”tall-orange” localization=”default” locale=”US” nofollow=”default” new_window=”default” tag=”brdfkdfk-20″ width=”120″]Kershaw Concierge[/easyazon_cta]

With an out-the-door cost of $38 at BladeHQ, the [easyazon_link asin=”B07BC93ML6″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”brdfkdfk-20″ add_to_cart=”default” cloaking=”default” localization=”default” popups=”default”]Kershaw Concierge[/easyazon_link] is a compelling entry point into the mind of one of the world’s premier knife designers. Its dapper handle houses a deceptively simple blade, ready to trim the foil from your morning champagne or cut the rind from your brie at brunch. I spent a few weeks chauffeuring this knife between work and play, thanks to the generosity of the folks at Kershaw. Here’s what I’ve learned over my stay with the Concierge.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The Concierge boasts a contoured, upswept blade some 3.25-inches in length. The stock is rather narrow across the shoulders (0.11-inches), with a hollow grind outfitted in a dapper gray titanium nitride coating. Beneath this lies Kershaw’s ever-present 8Cr13MoV steel.

Now, I won’t go too far down the steel rabbit hole, since the similarly equipped Atmos has proven to be a capable worker. I’d still like to see something like 154CM or 14C28N on Kershaw’s budget models, but at least their 8Cr runs better than most.

The rest of the Concierge’s 7.25-inches is comprised of nicely crowned G-10, within which lies a stainless steel linerlock and KVT ball bearing system. Think about that for a second – Up until a few years ago, this would almost certainly have been running on Teflon or (if we were lucky) phosphor bronze washers. As it is, this newly affordable mechanism is sandwiched in a 0.55-inch thick handle, bringing the knife’s total weight to 4.3-ounces.

Now that we’ve covered the stats, let’s take a minute to talk about the knife’s real-world usage. The long, gentle curve of the blade is well suited for daily tasks. Its hollow grind had no trouble dealing with my typical mediums – apples, onions, cardboard, envelopes, and plastic wrap. The knife came sharp from the factory, and I’ve stropped it back to life with no issues. We’ll cover the details of the ergonomics in a moment, but I’m generally impressed with the everyday ability of the Concierge.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

This is a knife that’s smooth all over – Like a tactical otter, or a slippery maitre d’. The subtle swells and arcs of the Concierge’s handle are really something to appreciate, especially when examined up close. Dmitry Sinkevich is known for his sleek, futuristic designs, and his style is in full force here.

The texturing of the G-10 handles is subtle and smooth. The large, dimpled pivot screws provide an interesting focal point for eye and thumb alike, and the chamfered steel liners are easy on the palm. I appreciate the jimping on the long backspacer, as well. Beyond its ergonomic appeal, it’s another point of visual grace in the knife’s overall design.

One of the more unique aspects of the Concierge lies in its recessed pocket clip. This single tongue of steel dips below level of the rest of the handle, thanks to a pair of unique cutouts. The tip peeks just above the horizon of the surrounding G-10, allowing users to slip the knife in and out of the pocket with ease. It takes a bit of practice, but I’m a big fan of the concept here. A recessed clip translates into a reduction of hot-spots in the hand, and Mr. Sinkevich has nailed its implementation. True, this means you’re left with a non-reversible clip. But for the majority of the knife-buying audience, this should be a hit.

Deployment and Lockup

The Concierge employs some of the best fit and finishing I’ve seen on a sub-$100 blade. But once we transition into the functional realm, several budgetary bugaboos rear their ugly heads.

Let’s start with the positives. The opening action is strong, thanks to a solidly designed detent. The blade’s long flipper tab is well-ground and smooth, preferring a button-style press to the old light-switch flick. As mentioned earlier, it’s great to see a KVT bearing system at a price point formerly reserved for Teflon or phosphor bronze washers.

So, deployment is a breeze. Stowage, however, is an entirely different story. My particular test model came with some pretty significant lock stick. Even after a thorough breakdown, cleaning, and repeated application of graphite and Sharpie, it’s still not a terribly smooth process. Combine this with the rather thin (though well-chamfered) lock bar, and you’ve got a recipe for tenderized thumb meat.

This removes much of the fidget-factor that made the Atmos so appealing. I’ve spent a decent amount of time messing around with the Concierge, and the lockbar hang-up isn’t as bad as it used to be. But, at least on my test model, the stickiness took some of the fun out of the experience. It’s a shame, especially given the KVT bearings and the perfect position of the flipper tab.

There’s also an odd note of metallic chatter upon closure, most noticeable between the disengagement of the lock and the blade tang hopping up over the detent. This is a minor issue, and I’m not concerned about the mechanical soundness of the lock system. But, it’s a small annoyance not present on the cheaper Atmos.

Kershaw Concierge Review – Final Thoughts

By this point, my preference should be clear – I ditched the $150 ZT0450 in favor of the Atmos, and the Concierge (while certainly a nice knife) isn’t going to kick its smaller cousin out of the collection. This is largely due to personal aesthetic (I prefer the uncoated blade), but the lock stick comes into play as well.

Minor production hang-ups aside, I still think this is an excellent knife. The recessed pocket clip and upscale aesthetic alone are enough to warrant the price of entry. I’d advise potential purchasers to adopt the try-before-you-buy attitude, in order to avoid picking up a model with the same lock stick issue I encountered. But, this is another strong collaboration between Kershaw and Dmitry Sinkevich. It’s a solid option at a respectable price, especially if the Atmos is too small for your palm.

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Editor: I recommend purchasing the Kershaw Concierge at [easyazon_link asin=”B07BC93ML6″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”brdfkdfk-20″ add_to_cart=”default” cloaking=”default” localization=”default” popups=”default”]Amazon[/easyazon_link] or BladeHQ. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Seiko 5 Sports SNZG15J1 Watch Review

by Josh Wussow 3 Comments

For some time now, I’ve been eyeing a return to the world of mechanical watches. Then, a few weeks back, Editor (and apparent mind reader) Dan contacted me with a proposition: “I bought a Seiko SNZG15J1 maybe six months ago… I see the watch every time I open up my closet and thought it might be a good fit for you.”

Buy on Amazon

Ah, the Seiko 5: Darling of watch hipsters and aspiring horologists everywhere. The SNZG15J1 (I’m going to call it the SNZ going forward) is a $120 piece sitting near the top of the Seiko’s iconic value line. I’d previously owned an SNK809, and the idea of testing its premium cousin was instantly appealing. Dan was kind enough to send it over, and I spent several weeks gathering my thoughts. Here are the dimensions, to start with.

Case Width: 42mm
Case Thickness: 12mm
Depth Rating: 10Bar (100m)
Movement: Seiko 7S36C
Lug Width: 22mm

Fit

By the time the watch reached me, Dan had already swapped the stock canvas bracelet for an aftermarket leather strap. While it looks to be about a millimeter short on each side, I appreciate the added comfort. If you haven’t experienced Seiko’s stock canvas, well, it’s not great. Those planning to buy this watch should seek out a new strap as part of the package.

Equipped with a bit of cowhide, the SNZ wears quite comfortably. The 42-milimeter case sits perfectly on my medium wrist, low and secure against the skin. The lugs curve gently around the bone, creating an effortless ride. I love the way this watch fits, which makes the next few sections all the more difficult.

Movement

Get your crosses and gear oil ready, mechanical purists, because I’m about to speak a whole bunch of sacrilege.

First, some specs. The Seiko’s 7S36C is a 23-jewel automatic movement with 41 hours of power reserve. Hacking and hand winding are absent, with an operating temperature range of 14-140 degrees Fahrenheit. I’d like to supply you with an expected accuracy range, but Seiko doesn’t include it in their operating manual.

Here’s where things fall off a cliff for me. The purpose of a watch, above all, is to keep accurate time. In my few weeks with the SNZ, I was unable to establish a consistent pattern. My Orient Mako 2, for instance, reliably runs between nine and ten seconds fast per day. Its hacking movement makes this easy to correct, so it’s not a big deal. But with the Seiko 5, I encountered variances between three and thirty seconds fast and slow. This is unacceptable in a $50 watch, let alone one costing $120. I had strong opinions on this coming off the similarly equipped SNK809, and time has done little to dull the edge. This variation is completely out of bounds, especially on a watch without a hacking second hand.

Allow me to digress for a moment. Are you familiar with the difference between polychronic and monochronic societies? In short, a monochronic civilization operates on a sense of temporal propriety. If a meeting is supposed to start at 9 AM, participants are expected to show up on time. Late arrivals and interruptions are generally considered rude unless an acceptable excuse is supplied.

In a polychronic society, however, start times are considered to be more of a suggestion. Arrivals could show up to said meeting as late as 9:30, with little to no thought given to the lapse. For those of us raised in a monochronic model, this sort of cultural divide can be a source of immense frustration.

Let’s bring this back into focus: How can Japan, a monochronic culture so hell-bent on punctuality that a 25-second early train departure necessitates an official apology, put out a movement that performs this poorly? Long story short, I’m flatly unimpressed with the operation and accuracy of the Seiko 5 series.

Case and Crown

So, it’s pretty clear where I stand on the SNZ’s functional capabilities. But what about its form? This is what I consider to be the great tragedy of the 5’s, because these watches are actually pretty well finished.

Let’s start with the case. The front side is composed of brushed stainless steel, with just the slightest breath of texturing. Things get prettier out back, with polished steel surrounding a transparent plastic window. This is the most alluring part of the watch, allowing you to see the mechanical movement in action.

The crown is small, unsigned, and basic. There’s nothing particularly memorable about it, but its action and setting is easier to access than that of the SNK809. For what it is, the setup is perfectly functional.

This case/crown combo features a water resistance rating of 100-meters. Sorry, guys, but I just don’t buy it. Take a look at this fingernail cutout tucked behind the crown:

Now look at the crown shaft, visible through the case back.

You’re telling me that this setup is supposed to ward off 10-Bar of pressure? I’m no hydrodynamics expert, but this doesn’t seem like a terribly watertight system. I’d be comfortable with handwashing and maybe a shower, but full on immersion in a lake or pool? I’d avoid it with the Seiko 5.

Dial, Bezel, and Crystal

Here we come to another SNZ strong point. The dial is clean, readable, and attractive. Its standard Arabic numerals are complemented by small 24-hour digits, with wide lume strips on the raised outer ring. A black day/date window is positioned at 3 o’clock, with a sharp white border for effect. The hour and minute hands are thick and well lumed, and even the red-tipped second hand features a touch of the glowing goop. My favorite aspect of the dial may actually be the applied “Seiko 5” badge. Its raised silver and white shapes really pop against the matte black dial, creating an appropriately sporty effect.

There’s not much to say about the bezel, beyond complimenting the subtle texture of its brushing. It sits ever-so-slightly below the top of the crystal, with just enough of a gap to accumulate debris from daily wear.

Speaking of the crystal, this is another watch utilizing Seiko’s proprietary Hardlex. It’s a material generally agreed to be on par with mineral – better than plastic or acrylic, but nowhere near the hardness of sapphire. At just over $100, I have no complaints with this choice in crystal.

Strap/Bracelet

As mentioned above, the stock Seiko canvas strap isn’t good. It’s coarse, inflexible, and generally plain. Time and wear would break it in, but just about every Seiko 5 photo on social media will include a different strap.

If you’re looking for alternative options, I’d highly recommend the folks over at Cincy Strap Works. Their NATOs generally accompany my Citizen Pro Master and Orient Mako 2.

Seiko 5 Sports Review – Final Thoughts

Last time, I opened the Casio Duro review with an ode to second sight. And it’s true – Sometimes, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. But with apologies to Cinderella and their hair-metal classic, “Now I know what I got… It’s just this overpriced, unreliable watch riding on its reputation.” I think that’s how the song went, right?

Look, I understand the mechanical appeal. The idea of a watch that’s essentially living off your body’s movement is pretty compelling. But, for around $30 more, you can get an Orient Mako or Ray II, with superior construction, accuracy, and a movement that hand-winds and hacks. Or, if you’re wedded to the field watch aesthetic, Citizen makes several excellent alternatives in this price range, such as the BM8180. Sure, they’re not filled with cool spinning gears, but their EcoDrive movements could also be said to be “alive,” feeding off the power of the sun.

This is a watch with a huge fan base, many of whom I hold in high regard. I wanted to love it, like the cool kids do. But, if I can’t trust it to keep accurate time, then why am I even wearing it?

Proselytizing aside, only you can determine whether a Seiko 5 belongs on your wrist. I’ll admit, those looking to dip a toe into the mechanical waters could certainly do worse. But, if you dig a little deeper, I think you can definitely do better.

SEIKO 5 Sports Automatic Made in Japan Black Dial Nylon Strap Watch SNZG15J1 Men's

Featuring a Black / Blue Band, Silver-tone Case, Scratch Resistant Hardlex Crystal
Stainless Steel Case with Black Nylon Strap
Day/Date Display with Arabic Option, Luminous Hands and Markers, Hardlex Mineral Crystal for Durability

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Seiko 5 Sports SNZG15J1 at Amazon or Jomashop. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Also, if you like the watch reviews, here is a link to all our watch reviews.

Casio MDV106-1A “Duro” Dive Watch Review

by Josh Wussow 18 Comments

You know what they say about love at first sight? Well, sometimes second sight comes with the benefit of experience, once absence has worked its magic on the heart. (Re)Enter the Casio MDV106-1A “Duro,” a $44, stainless steel dive watch running on batteries and quartz. I owned and sold one of these 20bar bargains about six months ago, before purchasing a second one for the purpose of this review

Buy on Amazon

With many of the watches here on BladeReviews featuring price tags of at least three digits, the Duro’s sub-$50 cost may cause readers to overlook its incredible value and capability. This was certainly the case with me, when it left my collection after I got my hands on the Citizen Promaster Diver. But, now that I’ve handled a few higher-end pieces, the humble Casio shines all the brighter.

Enough backstory – Let’s get to the figures and review. I should note that these measurements are an amalgamation of generally-agreed-upon figures, since my tools are still packed away from my recent move. Here you go:

Case Width: 44mm
Case Thickness: 12mm
Lug to Lug: 48mm
Depth Rating: 20Bar (200m)
Weight: 3.2oz on the rubber strap
Movement: Casio Quartz Movement (Module 2784)
Lug Width: 22mm

Fit

As you can see from the dimensions and comparison shots, the Duro is a rather large watch. It’s about as big as my medium-sized wrist can support without appearing to make a fashion statement. The stock rubber bracelet keeps this ticking chunk of stainless secured, and the single keeper and metal buckle operate without issue. More on the bracelet later, but it’s a solid functional design.

Here’s something to note, if you’re thinking about swapping out the stock strap: While most websites list the lug width at 20mm, I’ve found this to be closer to 22mm. So, if you’re eyeing up a NATO, be sure to buy accordingly.

Overall, the Duro wears pretty darn well. It was on my wrist for all but one day on my recent cross-country move, as well as the week of packing beforehand. Despite its size, at no point did it become a nuisance. Quite the opposite, in fact. There were many times, whether packing, driving, or moving in, when the weight of the watch on my wrist served as a welcome bit of reassurance. This sentiment held through four states worth of hotel gyms, showers, and pools.

Movement

Try as I might, I haven’t been able to dig up the exact specs for the Duro’s movement. I’m not alone in this, either – Folks like TGV from The Urban Gentry Youtube channel and other far more qualified reviewers have encountered a similar barricade. The general consensus seems to be that Casio employs one of their stock quartz movements, shown on the case back and manual as module number 2784. This crystal-controlled setup is powered by a three-year SR626SW battery, with an accuracy rating of +/-20 seconds per month.

Now, before you get too bent out of shape over that third of a minute, let me state that both of the Duros I’ve owned have come nowhere near that figure. At most, they’ve gained between one and two seconds per week. Accuracy here is on par with the Citizen and INOX, and significantly better than the mechanicals in my collection.

The Duro’s most striking feature is its second hand. Unlike many quartz pieces in this price range (I’m looking at you, Timex), its red-tipped ticker hits each of the indices with laser precision. There’s no waggle, stutter, or hesitation in its arc, which isn’t something I can say for my $250 INOX. This is excellent, and it’s been the case on both of my Duros.

Then there’s the date window. It’s nothing fancy, but visibility is decent and the changeover is solid. Setting is accomplished by pulling the crown to the first position and spinning counter-clockwise to advance the day.

Speaking of setting, I do have a minor nitpick here. Full disclosure – I’m a little obsessive-compulsive when it comes to my minute hand lining up with the markers. When the seconds hit zero, I want that long hand to be pointing dead-on at the desired minute. On some cheaper watches (or, again, the INOX), the minute hand has a tendency to jump a fraction of a millimeter when pressing the crown back into place. This creates a maddening misalignment, causing me to repeat the setting process over and over until everything lines up exactly. The Duro, unfortunately, suffers from a minor case of this hand-hopping. If you’re not a crazy person like me, this won’t be a big deal.

Case and Crown

If Casio is going to hit me with a “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain” on their movement, then I may as well take a long, hard look at the curtain. The case housing the Duro’s internals is made of stainless steel, with a mix of brushed and polished surfaces. And while it may be rather large, it does play host to some nice details. Take the case back, for instance. Casio has clearly etched all of the relevant data (Reference number, water resistance, etc.) into the steel, with the welcome addition of their classic marlin logo. This prominent fish only appears on Casios with a rating of 20Bar or higher. It’s a pretty cool bit of badging for a timepiece costing less than $50.

The crown, like the case back, is of the screw-down variety. There are two nicely chamfered guards surrounding it, with enough slope and rounded edges to keep them from digging into the wrist. The crown itself is unbranded, with enough of a polished finish to reflect my face like a funhouse mirror. It screws into place relatively easily, though not as smoothly as my higher-priced divers. There is a bit of wiggle in its unwound state, but nothing substantial enough to cause concern.

Dial, Bezel, and Crystal

Speaking of wiggle, let’s talk about the Duro’s bezel. You’d expect a cheap diver to come with some play in its timekeeping ring, right? Well, that’s not the case here. The Duro’s 120-click, unidirectional bezel is rock solid, with a prominently lumed pip at the zero position. The canted coin edge is quite grippy, so long as your hands aren’t soaking wet.

Within the bezel lies the crystal, composed of hardened mineral glass. Not a favorite material among watch lovers, but I think Casio deserves some credit here. At $44, they could have cheapened out and gone with some form of plastic. The Duro’s large mineral crystal is perfectly serviceable for a basic beater watch, and mine picked up only a single scratch after several weeks’ worth of moving-related work.

Let’s gaze beneath the crystal, to the real appeal of the Duro. Each of its indices are applied, and the polished hands are distinct and well-wrought. This combination makes this an eminently readable watch from almost any angle, a trait that proved truly valuable on my long-haul trip. The branding is subtle and well done, with another marlin to match the one on the case back. The dial itself is something of a flat black, though there’s a bit of a sunburst if viewed from the proper angle. This deceptively simple combination lends a real pop to the hands and indices, along with the bright red of the second hand.

The most common complaint associate with the Duro lies in its lume. Here’s a comparison shot, with the $150 Citizen Promaster on the right, and the $250 Victorinox INOX on the left:

While it looks okay here, I can tell you from experience that this nigh-universal gripe is warranted. The lume begins fading almost immediately and will be all but invisible within a few minutes. The lone exception comes in the outdoors, on nights far away from the streetlight glow. You’ll be able to read it in the darkness of your tent, but it won’t be an easy affair.

Strap/Bracelet

So, the strap – Many of the big-name reviewers I’ve come across aren’t a fan of the rubber. And I’ll be honest: I didn’t give it much of a chance on the first Duro I owned. I had a BluShark NATO shipped to me as part of the package, and that’s the way I wore it. But, since the second watch arrived, I’ve worn it almost exclusively on the stock strap. Maybe if I’d done this the first time, I wouldn’t have needed to buy the watch twice.

Let me elaborate a bit here. The stock rubber isn’t great. I’ve heard Nick Shabazz describe it with words to the effect of “baby’s first watch.” And, with the higher-end stuff he generally reviews, he’s probably not too far off base. But, for whatever reason, this basic rubber bracelet just works for me. It’s comfortable, secure, easily adjustable, and (most importantly) low-profile.

Because the Duro is already a rather large watch, the addition of even a trimmed-down NATO makes it tower over the bones of my wrist. This becomes immediately inconvenient for a watch doing beater duty. It’ll snag, smack, and otherwise scratch against every tree, desktop, and doorknob in your path. Or, at least, that’s what happened to me. While the basic rubber didn’t keep the bezel from becoming close with bookshelves and moving boxes, the effect was greatly reduced from its nylon counterpart.

Casio MDV106-1A “Duro” Review – Final Thoughts

Look – This is a great watch. I’d go so far as to say that it’s the best under-$50 timepiece I’ve tested, and one of the three best under $100 (the Casio WVA-M640 and Citizen BM-8180 being the others). And on top of its aesthetic and functional merits, it’s also one of the most accessible divers on the market. Next time you’re at your local Walmart, make a quick stop at the jewelry counter. There, next to the cubic zirconia earrings and cheap wedding rings, you’ll probably find a Casio Duro.

Still, I’d recommend purchasing the watch online, as in-store prices always hover a bit higher than those in cyberspace. Whether you’re looking for a beater watch for yourself, or maybe a gift for someone who’s thinking about getting into timepieces, this is a splendid, budget-friendly choice. Take it from me, the guy who was dumb enough to sell his first one – This is a watch you’ll enjoy having in your collection.

Sale

Casio Men's MDV106-1AV 200M Black Dive Watch (MDV106-1A)

Stainless Steel case with Black Resin Band
Black Dial with date window at 3 O'clock
Luminous markers and hour hands; sweep second hand
Anti-reverse bezel
Water-resistant to 200 M (660 feet)

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Casio Duro at Amazon and watches in general at Jomashop. Thanks for reading!