Fortis. As far as I remember, it was one of the first Swiss brands to join my collection—and from that moment on, it became one of my most beloved brands. Let me explain why.
The very beginning of my watch collecting madness started with USSR/Russian watches, and after several years, it naturally extended to space watches in general. So, Fortis was an obvious choice for my first contact with Swiss brands. In 1994, Fortis launched the first watch labeled "Official Cosmonauts." That label was “earned” through an official certificate issued by the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center (Centr Podgotovkov Kosmonavtov im. Yuri Gagarin – CPK). With that certificate, CPK confirmed that the Fortis watch had passed all required tests and was certified for space flights. The first certified Fortis was a chronograph powered by the Lemania 5100 movement. Soon after, the Lemania was replaced by the Valjoux/ETA 7750. The cooperation officially lasted until 2005. From that year on, no brand was officially endorsed anymore, but Fortis maintained close contact with the Russian space agency.
Later, when my interest extended to alarm wristwatches, Fortis came up again—with the first alarm chronograph watch ever made. I’ve reviewed two alarm chronographs; if you haven’t read that yet, check it out here. So in all of my main collections, Fortis watches represent an important part. Beyond that, Fortis has always made solid watches with a very good price/performance ratio—and it was a small, independent, family-owned brand. All of that only made Fortis more attractive to me.
You can imagine how disappointed I was when, in 2017, it was announced that Fortis had entered bankruptcy proceedings. And how glad I was when a watch enthusiast, Jupp Philipp (check out the interesting interview with him), bought Fortis and set the brand on a new path. And what an interesting path it is! A refreshed design built on iconic foundations. I know that many former Fortis lovers might have serious questions and doubts (similar to the total refresh of the Breitling brand in recent years), but as far as I’m concerned, I have to say—I like what the new Fortis is doing.
No surprise, then, that when I spotted the launch of the Stratoliner S-41 in 2022, I added the watch to my wish list immediately. The reason for my enthusiasm was the remarkable idea of combining a fresh, modern design with the most important element of Fortis heritage: space chronographs.
The watch was released in mid-2022. I didn’t buy it right away (as you’ll see later, it’s quite expensive). But when Seriouswatches.com, an official Fortis dealer (among other brands), recently introduced a trade-in option for their clients, I decided to give it a try. I offered a trade of some of my watches for the Stratoliner with the White Dust dial on a bracelet. Let me say straight away—Mark from SeriousWatches was extremely supportive, and I was very pleased with how quickly we agreed on the value of my watches and managed to strike a fair deal for both sides. As a result, I am now the happy owner of this watch.
So let me begin with the description and my impressions of the watch.
Unlike in my previous reviews, I’ll start with the movement. Why? Because Fortis didn’t take any shortcuts here by simply using an existing chronograph movement. Instead, in collaboration with La Joux-Perret (a company also important to my alarm collection, as it produces alarm movements based on the AS5008), Fortis developed a completely new in-house column wheel chronograph movement called WERK17.
And they didn’t stop there. In collaboration with the Swedish Space Corporation, they sent 13 encased movements into the stratosphere in November 2021, reaching a peak altitude of 30 km and temperatures as low as -60°C. (Here’s a nice video about that.) In order to ensure better resistance and greater accuracy in all environments—including the harsh conditions of space—Fortis redesigned and reinforced the bridges and added tangential micro-screw regulation for ultimate robustness and precise timekeeping.
The decision to develop an in-house column wheel chronograph was quite bold, and it clearly shows the direction Fortis wants to take in the market going forward. From the pictures, you can see that they are actually quite proud of the column wheel construction—on the caseback glass there's a clearly marked circle indicating the position of the column wheel beneath it. With the rotor in the right position, the wheel can actually be seen. And in fact, that's more or less the only visible part of the movement, as the large upper bridge covers almost everything else. Only the balance wheel is fully exposed.
It's a bit of a pity that they developed "just" a 4 Hz (28,800 bph) movement. It's fine, but it could have been better for this class. The declared power reserve of 60 hours (which I haven't tested) is again quite good, but could be improved as well. And when you add the fact that the chronograph totalizers and day/date complications are almost identical to the 7750 family movements, the whole effort of developing a column wheel chronograph feels somewhat wasted. From the outside, the watch appears to house just another 7750 movement. Only true watch enthusiasts will understand and appreciate the column wheel design over the cam system used in the 7750.
That said, the WERK17 has a very smooth start/stop chronograph pusher—the difference compared to the 7750 is immediately noticeable! On the other hand, the reset button is extremely stiff, even harder than on the 7750.
Since I’ve already described the movement, let me conclude this part with the accuracy test. Out of the box, my watch consistently runs between -4 and -6 seconds per day, with no positional variation. In all positions, it stays within this range. With a bit of fine tuning, I’m sure it could be regulated to extreme daily precision. Running the chronograph does not affect the accuracy. I haven’t tested the power reserve with the chronograph running either.
WERK17 is also described as having a bidirectional rotor system, which is another advantage compared to the unidirectional 7750.
Now let’s move on to the watch itself. When I first saw it online, three things immediately caught my attention: the very light, clean design without the typical thick bezel; the beautiful light blue chronograph hand and dial markings (whose purpose I didn’t yet understand); and the design of the chronograph pusher guards, which reminded me of the "tits" pushers from the early Fortis "Official Cosmonaut" watches. Back then, those protrusions were there to screw down the pushers—here, they simply serve as protection. I assume there are sealing rings inside to ensure water resistance.
Altogether, it’s a nice mix of fresh, light design with a subtle touch of heritage.
In theory, and according to the Fortis leaflet, the watch features a "Fixed Flat Orbit Bezel." To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what that actually means—most likely, the rubber inlay ring integrated into the case is what they refer to as the bezel. From the same leaflet, I also learned what the blue markings on the dial represent. Each of the three indicates a specific phase of the Virgin Galactic space flight. The 90-minute interval on the lower totalizer represents phase 1, which lasts 60 to 90 minutes, during which "the Mothership takes off with the Spaceship mated under its wings."
Phase 2, which lasts 60 to 90 seconds, is when "the Spaceship is released and propels toward the stars with up to 3.5x the speed of sound." This phase is marked by the outer chronograph ring (30 seconds). The next phase is the zero gravity phase, lasting approximately 15 minutes, and is shown on the upper totalizer. The final stage—reentry into Earth’s atmosphere, which takes 20 to 30 minutes—is not marked.
So, if you happen to have a ticket for a Virgin Galactic commercial flight, here’s a watch that shows you how long the experience lasts—and one that’s been tested to function properly throughout the journey.
I didn’t pay much attention to the dial before the purchase—it seemed like just an ordinary white dial. But when I received the watch, the dial turned out to be the nicest surprise. Its rough texture really gives the impression that a thin layer of dust is covering the surface. Simple, yet very attractive.
Speaking of the dial—all the totalizers appear to be printed directly onto it; everything is flat. The numbers are barely raised, most likely following the grain of the "dust" texture. The same applies to the Fortis and Stratoliner logos. All fonts are light and relatively small. There are no hour numerals, and the minute markers are placed on a very slim inner black circle (which is smooth). Each minute is divided into four smaller sub-markers, reflecting the 4 Hz chronograph frequency. Five-minute intervals are marked with numerals. In theory, all of this sounds fine. But in practice, the markings on the inner ring are simply too small for everyday use. You need hawk-like vision to read them without a magnifying glass.
And while we’re on the topic of small fonts, I have to point out the day and date display. Although the windows for both are large enough, the fonts themselves are far too small. Both the window and the date disc could easily accommodate larger, more user-friendly characters.
This isn’t the first watch where I’ve complained about the date size. And I keep asking myself—dear watch designers, why do you even include a day and date complication if they can’t be read? Not all of us are young anymore...
But back to the Stratoliner—everything mentioned above shows that the designers were clearly aiming for a light, clean, modern dial aesthetic. They succeeded in that goal, but usability has paid the price.
I almost forgot—number 13 on the date scale is colored orange. Interesting. I don’t know if there’s a special reason behind it, possibly something related to Virgin Galactic, or if it’s just a tongue-in-cheek reference to superstition.
I really like the hands. Simple and effective. They’re long enough, with a clear distinction between the hour and minute hands. The minute hand ends in a needle point, which adds both precision and character.
Special praise must go to the beautiful blue Super-LumiNova. It’s highly visible and long-lasting. As you can see, it’s not just the hour and minute hands that glow—the Virgin Galactic markings and the chronograph seconds hand are also luminous. All this creates a great first impression.
But once again, with regular use, you notice the downside—those glowing blue Virgin Galactic markers interfere with legibility in the dark. They become a distraction and make reading the time less intuitive.
But—probably Virgin Galactic passengers also travel in the dark, so they need to see those markings, right?
Ok, let’s move on.
The watch case and bracelet are made from recycled stainless steel. So, an environmentally friendly approach—nice touch. The bracelet is very heavy and thick. Out of the box, it comes extremely long. My wrist is 19.4 cm and I had to remove five links, plus the micro-adjustment clasp is set to the first tooth.
Speaking of the clasp—it’s simply wonderful. With just one press of a button, you can extend the bracelet by nearly 1 cm, in eight steps! And you don’t even have to take the bracelet off your wrist. Really impressive.
On the other hand, removing the links was a nightmare. At least it was on my bracelet. In Fortis’ promo video on YouTube, it looks easy—you just need two!! small screwdrivers, unscrew the pins, remove the link, screw it back. Simple, right?
Reality? You get one screwdriver with the watch—one. The second one? You’re expected to have it yourself. (If you know I need two, why give me only one??) But that’s not even the main issue.
The real problem is that unscrewing the links was a mission impossible. Before I completely ruined the bracelet, I gave up and brought it to my watchmaker. He tried—no success. I had to leave the bracelet with him for a longer time. Eventually, with a lot of patience and some heating, he managed to loosen the screws one by one.
According to him, the screws were not just tightened but glued in as well.
And I thought the Gevril bracelet was a nightmare (as I mentioned in my previous review)! Maybe I was just unlucky, but here every single screw was problematic—not just a few like with the Gevril.
So, when you finally get the bracelet sized, how does the watch fit? How wearable is it?
If you just read the specs and see the 41 mm diameter, you might assume this is a relatively small or at least mid-sized watch. The clean, open dial only reinforces that impression. But you’d be completely wrong. To wear this watch comfortably, you need a big wrist. The reason? A massive lug-to-lug measurement of 50 mm—which is enormous for a 41 mm diameter watch. That’s L2L territory typical for 44–45 mm cases.
Take another look at the upper photo. Focus on the lugs. You’ll notice a tonneau-style case profile. And from the wearing experience, this watch really behaves like a tonneau-shaped piece.
The thickness is expected for an automatic chronograph. It’s not extreme—just around 15 mm.
Now, I like big watches, so discovering the true physical presence of this model was actually a bonus for me. But beware if you usually prefer smaller, lighter watches—because this isn’t the whole story. Even though it may look like a sleek beauty, it wears like a heavy beast.
Sized for my 19 cm wrist, the watch with the bracelet weighs in at 210 grams. So if you’re not into heavy watches, skip the bracelet and go for the strap.
The watch is rated 20 ATM “space” resistant—let’s hope that also means 20 ATM water resistant. The signed crown is sealed with a rubber gasket and screws down securely. Once unscrewed, you can manually wind the movement; pulling the crown to the first position allows you to set the date and the day (date in one direction, day in the other); the second position is for setting the time. Nothing unexpected here.
The crystal is sapphire, with anti-reflective coating on both sides. The caseback is labeled as “smoked” sapphire. The marked ring indicating the position of the column wheel is, according to Fortis, a “spaceship window.”
The watch comes in a relatively small and far from exclusive box — but it’s very functional. When I first opened it, there was just the watch inside. Lifting the watch tray revealed the previously mentioned screwdriver. But no papers anywhere! I even lifted the screwdriver compartment — still nothing. Puzzled, I contacted Mark from SeriousWatches to ask why there were no original documents, especially since they’re an official dealer. He explained that the papers are hidden in the upper lid, and that around 80% of Fortis buyers can’t find them. I checked the lid again and tried to pull out the inner lining, but couldn't manage it. Still, I heard something rattling inside. Then — more by accident than design — I pressed the lower right corner of the box lid and discovered a hidden compartment with all the paperwork. By that time, Mark had already sent me a video showing where to look. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself! After owning so many watches, one simple box had managed to make a complete fool of me.
Inside the box, there’s a printed inscription: “First automatic wristwatch.” According to the Fortis website, the company’s founder, Walter Vogt, teamed up with the inventor of the first automatic wristwatch, John Harwood, back in 1926 to begin the world’s first serial production of such a watch.
Finally, a few thoughts about the price. I already hinted that this watch is expensive — €5,300 including EU taxes for the version with the bracelet. The version with a strap costs €4,950. These are certainly not the kind of prices we used to associate with Fortis. But to be fair, even in the past there were special Fortis models with in-house movements (or at least modules), like the alarm chronograph, which also came at a premium.
So is it fair to compare the price of this watch with standard Fortis models using generic movements? Probably not. Given the level of development and innovation that went into this timepiece, the price simply reflects today’s market reality. And more than that — it also reflects the pride Fortis clearly has in this watch.
That pride is echoed in the German phrase “Der Himmel ist nicht das Ende der Welt” — “The sky is not the end of the world” — engraved on both sides of the watch. It’s subtle and easy to miss, but it’s there. The message is clear: for Fortis, the sky is not the limit. They aim to do what others can’t.
But on the other hand, you also have to ask yourself: why would you want to buy this chronograph — a watch that, from an end-user perspective, offers similar, or let’s say identical, functionality as some chronographs based on the 7750 movement family? Just for comparison: at SeriousWatches alone, I found two comparable chronographs — the Le Jour Le Mans for €1,300 and the BOLDR Odyssey Regatta for €1,500.
To conclude, even though I criticized several things, I have to be honest — overall, the watch impressed me, and I genuinely like it. Wearing it is a joy. So, to all of you who are on the Virgin Galactic list for space travel — by all means, buy this watch; it’s made for you. And if you’re not that lucky — or, more likely, can’t afford space travel — I think I’ve given you enough information to help you decide whether this watch is right for you. As for me, I’m glad I pulled the trigger.
And finally, a big thanks to the team at SeriousWatches — and especially to Mark — for the excellent service throughout the entire process.
Add comment
Comments