I always wanted a vintage Yema Superman with the iconic locking bezel, but I could not find one for a long time. Then, when the sudden opportunity for a pre-1963 Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet came, I jumped on it. I didn’t know this would happen, but since the watch landed, I haven’t longed for the Superman anymore.

I don’t enjoy this time of the year very much. The Sun disappears suddenly, the temperature drops by 15°, the blue sky becomes gray, and the roads and my heart are wet. The moment I forget that the evening darkness tried to suck out all my energy, I wake up into morning darkness that tries to do the same. It comes every autumn, always without asking.

Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet

Changing habits

It takes me a week (or a month) to readjust. The time until my body and my mind accept the gameplay set for the next few months is painful. I always have to go deep in my wardrobe to dig out trousers that wanted to stay there for another couple of months. And that’s also the time when my morning watch choices change dramatically. Watches I enjoyed for the last couple of months don’t fit the mood and setting. I often subconsciously go after watches I haven’t seen in a long time. I do not reach for the thin, light, and elegant 35mm three-handers or white-dial chronos.

Hello there, Pre-’63!

That’s how I bumped into my pre-1963 Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet this week. The dial is darker than my mood and won’t provoke the rain. Now, I don’t swim. I mean, I don’t swim in water, but I don’t mind swimming through the wet days with this Yema Skin Diver. And have you seen those big lume markers? They look like the fog lights on cars I was passing on the gloomy highway this morning. If you follow my writing, you know how much I enjoy sandy patina. This is different. Minty-green lume, similar to Seiko wabi-sabi, is the color that fits best on muddy late-October days.

A utilitarian tool

We all think how cool the Yema Superman’s crown guards are (perhaps a bit less after we’ve had to set the watch quickly in the morning). Understandably, I was benchmarking and comparing the Yema Skin Diver to the Superman. The Skin Diver looked a bit naked in the pictures. But after it arrived and I strapped it on, I instantly recognized its simplicity. Add the extra-tall crown and drilled lug holes, and you have a pure non-pretender.

Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet dial close-up

A dial to die for (or from…)

I don’t need to introduce this particular dial style. Everyone who knows the Oris Divers Sixty-Five has seen it before. The more I look at it, the more timeless it appears to me. At some moment, I found it supernatural and sci-fi-like. Well, 1960s-sci-fi-like, but the spirit is there. I cannot imagine the world where that stylized “9” found its way onto the dial, and yet, here we are.

Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet

The date window is the only element that doesn’t belong there. It looks like a joke or a mistake. That date number looks like a tiny, poor human who’s being hunted by a fleet of hostile spaceships — “hour markers” if you prefer. The shape of these indexes is dynamic to the bone. I like how their butts span precisely two minutes and how sharply they taper toward the dial’s center. Now, I must mention the minute hand to let all my troubles fly free. It has been years since I bought this watch, and my mind still hasn’t processed that extra bar in the arrow hand. I know it’s a signature today, but I still find it a bit weird. Then again, it adds to the unique character.

Yema Skin DIver wrist shot

The search for a bezel

This watch also has some nice memories attached to it. Upon arrival, it had the wrong bezel. One Instagram post was enough, and I found the correct one. A German collector of vintage dive watches sold me one for a super-friendly price of €50 for a bezel with a spare case on it. “I will divide the price by three and put it in the ‘Sparbüchsen’ of my three kids,” he said, which made me smile.

Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet lume shot

Last thoughts

A nearly 38mm diameter makes the pre-1963 Yema Skin Diver 660 Feet still feel relevant on the wrist. The automatic ETA 2452 inside is nothing fancy, but it is reliable enough that it doesn’t trouble me. This watch is called “Skin Diver, but it feels quite robust. If you get one, make sure you put the correct crystal on it to get a nice view of the dial. And if you haven’t done so, get a UV lamp too. After I got this Yema Skin Diver, I found out its real purpose — to make it glow at any time of night, just for the fun of it. Happy hunting!