Seiko Prospex Sea Day-Date 45mm

The Seiko Turtle. My God. I believe it is my favourite Seiko. So, reader, be cautious, my review of the Seiko Turtle will be completely corrupted and biased.

To offset that a little bit, I must also state that I do not own this watch any longer, I have parted with it. Why, you ask? Well, as they say it, I was young and needed the money. But seriously, there were some issues. I’ll be happy to talk about the issues. Let’s do exactly that.

My version of the Turtle was the SRPC91K1 Save The Ocean model, which sported a beautifully textured, vibrant blue dial and black PVD-coated bezel and crown. It was my first serious watch, I paid for it with my first paycheck, so it was very sentimental.

As you may have guessed already, the main problem was the size of the watch. It is HUUUGE, as a certain US president would say. It is huge indeed at 45mm diameter and a tad over 47mm lug to lug, and the above 13mm thickness didn’t help at all.

It must be said, though, that it is highly likely that Seiko’s design and ergonomics team are deeply invested into black magic, and I’m also pretty sure that there is a group of witches aiding them with their creations, and I’m convinced of all of that because I never had a Seiko dive watch on my wrist that wasn’t incredibly comfortable.
There is something about the way the lugs are turning, the caseback, and probably the features of the cushion case itself, which makes wearing this big old daddy diver a heavenly experience.

Me personally, when I think of the Turtle, I immediately think of the Willard, which means I’m also thinking about the Vietnam War, not the horror and sadness about it, which is the reality of war, but the coolness of it captured in the movie Apocalypse Now, and specifically the scene where the US attack helicopters devastate anything that moves, while they are blasting Ride of the Valkyries from Wagner, which, in my honest opinion, is the coolest, most epic and cathartic couple of minutes in the history of cinema. I associate the Turtle with the jolt of adrenaline I always get from watching that scene (sometimes over and over again), and really, no marketing strategy could or would beat that ever.

Now for the other issues. Price. Especially current pricing, especially for the King Turtle, for which you have to pay around 600–700 euros, for the privilege of a piece of sapphire and a little bit of ceramic.
The regular Turtle is not that much better either—450 euros for a Hardlex-covered black watch housing a 4R movement on a rubber strap, packaged into thin pieces of paper, is, frankly, outrageous. This issue, of course, is now affecting pretty much everything Seiko is selling at the moment, so my advice is: buy pre-owned.

That is exactly what I did when I bought my Mini Turtle, which lacks the cool historical and pop cultural factors of the OG Turtle, but it is modestly sized and still great value for money.

To conclude, the Seiko Turtle is an amazing watch, with properly exciting heritage behind it, for outrageous sums of money. Buyer, be aware: your wrist must be HUUGE, but if it is, I do not see any reason why you shouldn’t own this insanely cool piece of watchmaking. Besides the price. But you can always get around that. I suggest you do.