Breitling does things its own way. “You simply don’t become an official supplier to world aviation by chance,” states the glossy new brochure of their latest watch, the 30th anniversary Chronomat Airborne. Certainly, as one of the last remaining independent Swiss watch manufacturers, they have the luxury to do so.
More often than not, this has meant developing watches that cater to the exacting needs of a multitude of extreme human activities. Think land, sea and air. But as you may have guessed it’s in the air that they’ve really found their calling and, having been at the forefront of the development of the wrist chronograph, they now go so far as to equip each and every one of their models with an ultimate token of precision: chronometer-certified movements, and this is something no other manufacturer does. Such prowess has not just spurred them to earn those wings they so proudly display on their logo, it has also pushed them to take to the air as often as possible. This is why, since 2003, the brand has owned the world’s only civilian aerobatic jet team. And with some room left in the hangar for a little something extra, they’ve also added a 1950s Lockheed Super Constellation. Just for fun of course. This old turbo-prop plane has been painstakingly restored to the point that it’s now the world’s only flyable Super Connie. What’s so special about this plane? Well, it was the first commercial aircraft with a pressurised cabin and the first to cross the Atlantic non-stop, so you could say that it was the craft that linked America (Breitling’s biggest market) to Europe (Breitling’s home).
With so much passion to share, Breitling sent out invitations last September to seven lucky journalists, of which I was one. The trip began in Dubai where we boarded an Emirates A380 destined for Zurich and this is where we got to witness the first ever watch launch to be held in the air. Aed Adwan, Breitling’s Middle East Sales Manager, told us that, “Breitling and aviation adventure go hand in hand. This unique launch event ensures that we are continuing this tradition, and it is appropriate that we are doing it in the Middle East, a region that boasts some of the world’s finest airlines.” In the end it was more of a PR coup than history in the making but the best was yet to come. You see, once in Switzerland, we were taken to Payerne and that’s where we met up with Breitling’s pilots.
Provided first with logo-emblazoned black overalls and yellow helmets, we transformed ourselves into Top Gun’s finest before watching a video that briefed us on everything from where the sick bag was stowed to how to engage an ejector seat. Then we were assigned our respective crafts.
“Nicolas… Number 7… Gaston.”
“Ah, les grands sont ensembles,” joked one of the pilots, which, if put in the context of 8,000 feet of altitude, 700 km/h of speed and almost 5 G’s of force seems about as relevant as commenting on humidity during a hurricane. But when my pilot, Patrick Marchand, more commonly known as Gaston, informed me that tall pilots are actually at a disadvantage given that their blood can travel further, I did start to wonder just what I had signed up for.
Deciding not to question things further, I followed him out to the jet. It was a Czech-made L-39C Albatros, painted in Breitling’s corporate colour scheme of black, grey and yellow. This type of jet is typically used for military pilot training and as I climbed up and over into the rear seat of the cockpit, I realised as much. For even though I was only supposed to be a passenger, I was completely surrounded by workable switches and levers. Even my feet were resting on pedals.
“Try not to touch anything,” said Gaston with a wink and a smile as he too climbed into our little rocket.
After a few safety checks, arming the ejector seats, and clearance, all seven jets taxied onto the runway. Since Gaston and I were at the tail end of the pack, our cockpit soon started filling with exhaust fumes. Consequently, far from worrying about what was in store, all I could think about was the dizzying stench of kerosene that was filling my lungs. I literally couldn’t wait to take off, hoping the clear air might finally free my nostrils from that punishment.
When the moment finally did come, it was shockingly brutal. Forget about normal airliner take-offs, these jets spring forward and it took only a brief instant before we were in the air and filing in to formation. As I looked to my right, I didn’t just see the six other jets, I could see the faces of everyone in them too. We were horrifyingly to one another.
Soon enough, Gaston was on the radio telling me to brace myself for the shenanigans and before I had the chance to answer, the plane went into a nosedive, building up airspeed and then wham. He pulled up and we soared toward the heavens, beginning what I could only imagine was a loop the loop. I couldn’t be sure though because the G-forces were so strong that I lost vision. The rush of blood to my feet had left my eyes in a complete blackout and my lungs strained to draw in air.
My vision returned only once we were fully upside down, where oddly enough, I felt quite comfortable. The sights from here were just incredible. I can still picture the radiant yellow rapeseed fields alongside deep blue lakes, everything was so vivid, no doubt it had a lot to do with the fact I was dangling upside down at almost 3,000 metres above sea level.
As we continued our circular trajectory and finally levelled off, I raised my hand to my brow and realised it was soaking. As much as my mind was enjoying the experience, my body sure as hell was not.
“Don’t worry, that’s as hard as it gets” joked Gaston again. Luckily, he was right, the barrel roles, dips and flicks that ensued never pushed me to endure as many G’s as that loop had and instead, I was able to more comfortably appreciate the moves, albeit with an odd perma-grin spread across my face.
The entire ride lasted about twenty-five minutes, which was strange for two reasons. The first was that I thought it had only been about ten minutes. And the second was that, once I was on terra firma, I realised that my body felt like it had been put through battle. Undoubtedly, if I’d had a Breitling on my wrist, it wouldn’t have missed a beat. I’ll have to try that next time.
Caption: The launch of Breitling’s 8,500 USD 30th anniversary Chronomat Airborne was the ostensible reason for all these exciting stunts. Fine by us.
WHAT The Breitling Jet Team Experience
SINCE 2003
WHERE Switzerland
WHY Words cannot adequately express these thrills. If you want a go at the experience, there are two ways: either become a very important client, or win one of the many lucky draws Breitling runs on its Facebook page.
