Timeless Treasures: My Love Affair with the Vintage Seiko UFO
There’s something magnetic about vintage Seiko chronographs. They are mechanically impressive, unmistakably ’70s, and rugged enough to exude authenticity. If you’ve spent time around models powered by the 6138 and 6139 calibers, you’ll quickly see why they captivate so many collectors. My own journey began back in 2019, while stationed at Osan Air Base in South Korea, where I discovered a watch that would accompany me through many adventures — the Seiko 6138-001X, affectionately known as the “UFO” or, to some, the Yachtman.
Image: Chinh Le Duc via Unsplash
A Chance Discovery in Itaewon
If you’ve ever ventured abroad in search of watches, you know the thrill of discovery. You walk into a quaint shop, half-expecting to find knickknacks, and instead, you uncover trays filled with ’70s Seikos — including 6139 chronographs, weather-worn 6105 divers, and obscure references that look like they’ve lived vibrant lives. This particular shop was nestled in Itaewon, part of Seoul’s Yongsan District. And there it was—the UFO, featuring a bowl-shaped case and a broad bezel, oozing with the charm of its era.
It wasn’t perfect. In fact, it was far from it, but it felt genuine. After a brief negotiation (which I’m pretty sure I didn’t win), I walked into the Seoul night convinced I had stumbled upon a great vintage find. Little did I know, the watch had its own agenda.
Lesson One: Enthusiasm Isn’t Expertise
Back at home, under better lighting and with adrenaline levels subsiding, the watch’s issues became glaringly apparent. The chronograph pushers were incorrect, the bracelet showed signs of wear, and, worse, the movement had shifted slightly within the case—never a comforting sign. But I was confident. I sourced the correct pushers, a new movement ring, and even an aftermarket bracelet compatible with the reference. Then came the classic collector’s mistake: I opened the case.
Seiko 6138 movement — Image: Kyotoya Co., Ltd via Chrono24
The 6138 is a remarkable movement—featuring a column wheel, vertical clutch, and outstanding engineering. But it doesn’t forgive mistakes easily. I managed to successfully replace the movement ring and pushers, which briefly boosted my confidence. Then, inevitably, a sub-dial hand went flying into the void. The UFO was relegated to a drawer—temporarily, I convinced myself, just until I “had time.”
Lesson Two: Know Your Limitations
Fast forward two years, and while stationed in Germany, I rediscovered the UFO while unpacking. This time, practicality took precedence over pride. The watch needed a specialist. After some digging, I found a watchmaker in Netphen who specializes exclusively in Seiko 6138 and 6139 chronographs. That specific focus was reassuring; this wasn’t just another service job—this expert understood the intricacies of this particular era of Seiko engineering.
I sent the UFO off and waited. Ten weeks later, a package arrived. Inside was a revitalized watch—serviced movement, crisp bezel, and freshly lumed. It looked brilliant. Naturally, I made another mistake. I put it right back in the drawer.
Lesson Three: Watches Are Meant to Be Worn
For three months, the restored UFO sat untouched. Somewhere along the way, my desire for a fantastic vintage chronograph turned into an obsession for a “correct” one. I lost sight of the original purpose. The 6138-001X isn’t subtle. The nickname “UFO” is well earned—it’s bold, hefty, and an unmistakable statement piece. It was never designed to be a safe queen; it was crafted to be worn, to catch the light on its brushed surfaces and to feel substantial against your wrist. So I finally strapped it back on, and that’s when the realization hit.
The UFO wasn’t a symbol of my mistakes; it was a record of my journey—through Korea, Germany, and many places in between. Its small imperfections weren’t flaws to correct; they represented chapters of my story.
Back in Rotation
Today, the UFO is once again part of my regular rotation. It still bears the marks from its previous life, now accompanied by the blemishes from mine. It serves as a constant reminder of three simple lessons that every collector eventually learns:
- You’re not as smart as you think you are.
- Know your limitations—especially with vintage chronographs.
- Watches are meant to be worn.
While the Seiko UFO may not be the rarest or most expensive watch out there, few timepieces have taught me more about collecting, patience, and the quiet satisfaction of wearing something mechanical, imperfect, and full of life. Ultimately, that’s what these vintage Seikos do best—they don’t just tell time; they tell your story in the process.
Managing Editor’s Note / Author Biography
A big thank you to Mark for sharing his captivating story. It has been long overdue, and I’m thrilled to finally put this out there. Connecting with fellow enthusiasts like Mark, who take a thoughtful approach to their timepieces, is always a pleasure. His journey into mechanical watches resonates with mine, and while sometimes lessons are learned the hard way, sharing them offers valuable insights for others. Take his advice to heart; you won’t regret it!
Mark Vitantonio is a global logistics and strategy executive with over 30 years of international leadership experience in the U.S. Air Force. He has been deeply interested in horology and the watch industry since 2017. Mark is based in Seattle, Washington.