Where it all began

" Rolex Submariner, 1680, Good condition. Box and Papers..£450.00"

There I was, in my late teens, sharing a cramped bedsit with my mate and completely broke. Having just finished my cabinet-making apprenticeship, I was eager to dive into the world of making real money.

So, off I went in search of a pound note (as it was called back then).

“You can come and work with me,” offered Uncle Geoff, a big, burly builder who earned a decent living and paid cash weekly. His passion and pastime were scuba diving, and he couldn’t stop talking about how “one day, I’m going to buy myself a Submariner.”

“A what?” I’d ask, and he’d launch into a rant about this diver’s watch—the crème de la crème of watches for divers. He kept an old Rolex catalog in his van and showed me this Submariner. “That’s it,” he said, “a Subby.”

And that’s when I fell in love.

At the time, I had no clue about watches, nor any real interest in them. But I knew I had to have one—if only to one-up Uncle Geoff.

Six months later, I was on the Tube in London, heading home after a grueling day at work. I’d picked up an Exchange and Mart to pass the time during the boring journey. A small advert caught my eye:

“Rolex Submariner1680, Good ConditionBox and Papers£450.00”

That was it. After a quick phone call, the next day I was on my way to South London with £450 in savings tucked in my pocket and absolutely no idea what I was doing. Luckily, the seller was a decent guy. He showed me the watch, the box, and the papers, gave me a receipt, and off I went, thrilled to now own a Rolex. My first stop? Uncle Geoff’s place.

I wore that watch every single day, rain or shine, for the next 18 months, beaming with pride. I didn’t have a home, a car, or any savings, but I had a Submariner—and that was enough for me.

Fast forward another 18 months, and I was walking past our local official Rolex dealer, Zales, one weekend. In the window was a brand-new Rolex Submariner 16610, priced at £1,100. I walked in, wearing my Subby, and asked to see it.

This watch was stunning—it even had real glass, not plastic like my 1680.

“If you pay cash, I’ll do it for £1,000,” the salesman chimed in.

“Done,” I said, without the slightest clue where I’d get the money. I left him with a £20 deposit. “I’ll hold it for a week,” he said, and off I went, brainstorming how to scrape together the cash.

The 1680 Subby had to go, and fast, to help fund this impulsive purchase. On Monday, I placed a quick advert in Loot (a daily paper in London at the time): “Rolex Submariner, box and papers, £600.”

By Thursday, it had sold, and I’d made a £150 profit. What a result, I thought at the time!

So, there I was, raiding my bank account and dipping into the money I’d been saving for my tax bill to finance this watch.

By the Friday I became the proud owner of a brand-new Rolex Submariner 16610—a watch that served me faithfully for over 30 years and fueled my lifelong passion for classic timepieces.

Lenny