I went freediving with a $6,000 Tudor watch on my wrist.

You’re right, of course. But holding your breath while floating in a calm pool and in the open sea are two completely different worlds. However, after two days of practice, I get the hang of it and go lower and lower each time I try. Finally, on my last attempt, during which I was tasked with removing a card from the bottom of the buoy and bringing it back to the surface, I spend two minutes breathing calmly and then descend with Pelagos on my wrist. Although the pressure builds in my left ear, I stay calm, level, and feel the bottom of the rope hit my fins. I grab the card, release it from its elastic band, and swim quickly to the surface.

While Bourc’his’ competitive career is behind him, he still spends an inordinate amount of time freediving. Unlike scuba diving, the beauty of freediving is that it can be done with almost no equipment. A diver like Bourc’his can effectively disappear into the environment. A mechanical watch is one of the few points of connection to the higher world of technology and objective measurement for a freediver like him.

In reality, Tudor’s role in freediving (and his association with Bourc’his in particular) is almost more of a totem: a signifier of the man-made environment to which the diver belongs. Disconnected from urgent reminders of missed meetings, pending RFPs, and an overflowing inbox, you are consumed by the ocean and free to experience nature as a child would. Then finally, when you’re ready, a glance at your wrist will remind you of the surface and you’ll swim back home.

“Apnea is a good school for knowledge of yourself “In this sport, also in daily life,” says Bourc’his. “Slowing down isn’t just ‘I don’t do anything.’ You know, it’s a way of organizing your life.”