In the long arc of the GMT-Master’s evolution, few references trace as storied and enduring a path as the 1675. Introduced in 1959 and produced until 1980, it spanned two decades of change, from the golden age of commercial aviation to the cusp of quartz disruption. Born from Pan Am’s request for a pilot’s tool, it carried its utility in form—rotating bezel, fourth hand, dual timekeeping—yet gradually took on subtler refinements that nudged it toward something more collectible, more coveted.
Among the most distinctive variants to emerge in its later years is the Mark 3 “Radial” dial—a configuration born in the mid-to-late 1970s and thought to be destined largely for the U.S. market. Its name comes from the positioning of the luminous hour plots, spaced slightly inward from the minute track like sunbeams drawn back from the edge. The dial feels less dense, more architectural—clean, methodical, and rare. Only produced for a brief window, its presence on a 1675 elevates the watch into quieter collector territory, where production nuance meets aesthetic divergence.
And then there’s the all-red GMT hand—an unassuming anomaly that whispers rather than shouts. Unlike the typical split-color version with polished steel triangle, this one is fully painted, uniform in tone, and just off-standard enough to spark questions. Factory-installed? A service quirk? Regional oddity? The truth may be elusive, but that’s the allure: the 1675 has always thrived in its margins, in the things left unsaid. The radial dial and red hand—together—don’t just mark time zones. They mark time, full stop.
