Review: Baltic Tricompax

It’s a common technique in writing a review of a product to do the old bait and switch. You’ll hear all the things wrong with it to draw you into forming an opinion that’s not favourable towards it. Perhaps you’ll feel justified, or perhaps even disappointed. Maybe you won’t care either way. But then—despite the adversity, despite the odds, actually the reviewer determines that there’s one saving grace that renews their passion and in fact the product is the greatest there ever was, warts and all. That’s not the case with the Baltic Tricompax. From end to end, it’s just fantastic.

Part 1

To completely contradict myself, I will, regardless, establish this watch with its flaws, because they are minor. It is not made in Switzerland and there will be only 300 of them. The first point, however, shouldn’t be an issue since it’s the people building the watch not the place it’s built that really matters, and secondly, I’m pretty certain Baltic won’t have gone to all the effort to introduce the new Tricompax platform only to chuck it in the bin after 300.

As ever, these watches are assembled in France from parts that hail from all around the world, and that’s what allows Baltic to offer more for less. It’s no new idea, even if the watchmaking industry is still getting to grips with it. This time, however, it’s not just Baltic at the wheel of the project, because they’ve enlisted the help of a partner: Peter Auto.

Who or what is Peter Auto? As you might have guessed, it’s the brainchild of someone obsessed with cars. It’s a pairing seen often in watch circles, from Heuer furnishing dashboards with stopwatches in the early 20th century to Richard Mille strapping a timepiece onto any F1 driver that stands still long enough today. With Peter Auto, we find ourselves somewhere between the two, in the golden age of motorsport. They’re responsible for creating and organising such events as the Le Mans Classic and Monza Historic.

Take a 60s-inspired chronograph watch and pair it with 60s-inspired motorsport and what do you get? A nostalgia sandwich to end all nostalgia sandwiches. Forget Tamagotchis, forget Reebok Pumps—this is pro-mode wistfulness. It doesn’t matter if you were around in the 60s or not; no one is immune to wishing, even just a little bit, that they’d experienced it for themselves.

Baltic can’t bring The Beatles back but it can put a watch on your wrist, and that’s exactly what this Tricompax with Peter Auto is all about. Don’t expect horological innovation here: as far as nostalgia sandwiches go, this is pure PB&J. Classic case and bracelet? Check. Aluminium tachymeter bezel? Check. Creamy dial with vivid accent colours? Check. There’s no escaping just how, as a classic car enthusiast might say, period correct this is.

If you’re hoping to have your socks fired off in a fit of watch-borne revolution, you will be sorely disappointed. The Baltic Tricompax does not stand out amongst the real watches of the vintage. In fact, that’s entirely the point. It’s supposed to look like it’s been left in a drawer all this time, recovered, had the dust blown off it and returned to active service. You might almost look at it and wonder if, after quartz watches made mechanical obsolete, Baltic were one of the many brands that didn’t survive.

Part 2

A big change from previous Baltic watches, however, is the price. The Bicompax costs around $550. This costs closer to $2,000. Has Baltic let its previous success go to its head? To understand that, we’ll need to explore a little more about the Tricompax first.

At first glance you might take this to be a Bicompax with an extra sub-dial and a colourful dial, but there’s more going on than first meets the eye. The steel case, although a little larger than the Bicompax’s, is still appropriately diminutive at 39.5mm across. It’s also 10.7mm thick, which is neither too thick nor too thin.

Things really start to deviate when you get to the crystal, because where the Bicompax used good old-fashioned acrylic, the Tricompax has been upgraded to sapphire. It’s still domed so it feels nicely vintage, but now you know you won’t scratch it walking too close to the shrubbery.

Surrounding all that is a very 60s tachymeter bezel, which unlike, say, the Speedmaster’s, is not just matte black. It’s ever so slightly grained, which makes the anodised coating gleam in the sunlight like an upturned CD. If you’re younger than 25, a CD is like an MP3 but made of plastic.

The dial has, for the first time in Baltic chronograph history, applied markers for the hours, nicely complimenting the shiny hour, minute and second hands. The rest of the hands are coloured according to their chronograph function, the most important, seconds and minutes, in a fetching orange, and hours in yellow. A textured, beige backdrop sounds as appetising as old milk, but in practice looks tremendous against the black sub-dials.

Bezels and beige hardly equate to a 350% uplift, however, so you’ll be reassured to know that there’s one more trick left up Baltic’s sleeve. The excellent but very Chinese Seagull chrono has been ousted for something altogether more in keeping with a watch that celebrates Switzerland’s golden years: a Swiss made Sellita SW510-M chronograph.

This is Sellita’s new manual wind version of its popular chronograph calibre. It’s got 60 hours of power reserve, which is good, because with no automatic rotor weight, you’ll be needing to top it up by hand. Winding it is no chore, however, the mechanism smooth and crisp. And it feels perfectly at home in a watch like this, offering the same experience you’d have had way back in 1960. It’s also why the watch isn’t as thick as milkshake.

Pitch all that against one of the cheapest Swiss chronographs out there, the Tissot PRX Chrono and, with the Baltic some $250 more expensive, it still feels like there are some pricing questions left unanswered. Well then, you’ll be glad to know that this racing chronograph not only comes with one, but two stopwatches, plus a mounting plate to affix them to your classic rally car’s dash—or desk, more likely. These are akin to the Heuer jobbies we mentioned earlier. They’re pretty smart, and the operation is so loud and solid that they’re very satisfying to play with.

Chuck in the limited nature of these watches and chances are you’re buying into a solid performer when it comes to residuals as well. That’s neither a promise nor the primary reason to buy this watch, but it certainly can’t hurt the decision-making process. It’s the cherry on the cake of another Baltic watch I can whole-heartedly commend.

If you’ve had a hankering for a classic, exotic-dialled 60s chronograph and you just can’t muster the kidney required to buy one, Baltic has got your back. Well, it’s committed to getting the backs of just 300 people, so it may not have your back specifically, but for those of you who get one, you’ll be very pleased you did. Swiss movement, Swiss looks, Swiss nostalgia, all bundled up with a load of extras for a very un-Swiss price. No bait, no switch, all good.