Hungerford Arcade have many customers who are avid collectors of everything under-the-sun. We are very fortunate to have a lovely gentleman, Jeff Della Mura, an enthusiastic collector of fishing floats and tackle. Jeff wrote this fascinating article on Fishing Floats. It is a must read which also gives you tips on what to look out for. Jeff has included his e-mail address so that you can contact him if you already have a vintage piece and would like to know more about it.
Fishing Floats
Fishing Floats! Surely nobody collects fishing floats………. I’m afraid they do. What’s more, I’m a big fan and right up there with the most enthusiastic of collectors – but don’t hold it against me! While antique fishing tackle has been a mainstream collectable for decades, that minor accessory, the fishing float has remained a virtually overlooked backwater until recent years. Now things have changed. In fact I’d go as far as to say that interest in floats is slowly gaining a degree of respectable acceptance – though I’m basing my assumption on nothing more scientific than the fact that my wife doesn’t refer to me as an ‘Anorak’ quite as often as she once did. Before we get too much further, I should qualify what is meant by fishing floats: I don’t mean the strings of cork disks or the hollow glass balls from which commercial fishing nets are suspended but I do mean the brightly coloured bits of cork or quill fitted to an angler’s line. The examples below, like me, were made during the early 1950s.
As you might expect, my interest in vintage fishing equipment stemmed from an interest in fishing. Having fished with a rod and line on and off throughout my lifetime I’ve developed a cosy affinity with sitting at the water’s edge. Between you and me, as I get older, I’m finding myself becoming less rabidly obsessed over catching fish and increasingly content at the simple joy of being there. There is something about being on the bank, alongside nature, participating in a craft that goes back hundreds of years, that I have always felt at home with – and still do when time permits. Somehow, the humble fishing float symbolises the entire idyll. I became hooked on fishing floats (pardon the pun) in the late 1990s when I found a couple of dusty, faded and worm riddled old floats in a Wiltshire antiques shop. They were still coated in bank side mud and bore the neglect of two generations. For most people they would have seemed trash rather than treasure. Nevertheless, I felt their magnetism, both as a legitimate collectible and as a source of personal nostalgia. From that moment there was no turning back.
The more I looked for answers, the more I realised how little I knew. The compunction to learn gathered pace as I tried to find out who had made what, where, when and why. I discovered that the information was there, if one looked hard enough, but it wasn’t easy to come by or to assimilate. The harder I looked, the more I wished that somebody had written the kind of collector’s book that I love to explore, the sort that entertains as well as illuminates. I quickly found myself drawn ever deeper into research. Like many collectors I positively revelled in peeling back the years. I examined the social legacy of war; I wondered at the workings of the British Empire; I became awestruck by the brilliance of the industrial revolution: I even peered into the dim candle-lit shadows of the 1700s. More surprisingly perhaps, by creeping default, I also found myself writing the very book that I wanted to read.All this, from two half-rotten old floats!
After four years of thoroughly enjoyable effort, the book HOOKED ON FLOATS – a collector’s companion, was duly completed and was launched at The National Vintage Tackle Fair, Redditch, in November 2012. Before you begin to worry that this article is a crafty attempt at getting you to buy a book, let me rush to add that both editions of it sold out within a year. If nothing else, this confirms that, if I truly am a complete anorak, then there must be at least another 399 like-minded sufferers out there with the same affliction. If we consider the fact that copies of the book were ordered from four continents and that used copies now sell for double the publication price, we can begin to see that the topic is more popular than one might have dared to expect. Here’s a reasonable example of the sort of thing we are talking about…
Vintage fishing floats were made mainly from organic materials. For example, many featured a shaped and painted cork body that was bored through with a hot iron and fitted onto a wood or bird quill stem. But, while those materials were the predominant norm, you can also expect to find floats made from other lightweight materials, including porcupine quills, celluloid, hard plastic, reed-stems, cane, balsa, elder pith and even aluminium.
There are a variety of ways that the float might be fitted to the line. For simplicity, this is the most common: The top part of the float would have been connected to the line by a small hoop of quill or rubber. At the lower end of the stem there is often a ring or ‘eye’, through which the line would pass in the direction of the angler’s hook. This method held the float tight enough but also allowed the angler the make adjustments if required. The lower part of the float would often be coloured green or brown in the hope of making it less obvious in the water, while the top part – particularly the tip – would usually be bright or lightly coloured for maximum visibility at distance.
When in use, the float would be attached to the angler’s line, perhaps three or four feet above the baited hook, though this would depend entirely on the depth of the water and the anglers tactics. The line, hook float and weights, collectively referred to as ‘the tackle,’ would be cast into the water and allowed to settle, usually with the help of beads of lead shot pinched onto the line below the float. These lead weights would be heavy enough to get the baited hook down to the fish and would also serve as ballast, helping to ensure that the float stood upright in the water. All being well, a fish would take the bait, exerting a downward tug on the line, which would cause the float to dip or submerge. The angler, having been thus alerted by the disappearance of the float, would raise the rod tip smartly and hook the fish. Simples! That’s basically how a float works, but why are they collectable? Well, they are still relatively cheap, there are enough survivors to render them reasonably easy to find, they exhibit endless varied forms and there are both rare and more common possibilities available. However, they are also delicate and prone to rot as well as being vulnerable to insect attack – which means that while sufficient numbers have survived to provide a wealth of interesting material, the vast majority crumbled to dust years ago – thus providing that vital edge of scarcity that makes collecting a more worthwhile challenge.
Rare Fishing Float
Talking of rarity, this self-cocking, cone shaped lump can barely be described as elegant or attractive, yet the right collector might be tempted to offer you a three figure sum if you are lucky enough to stumble upon one (I’m your man, call me if you have one!). This example was produced by the famous Alnwick tackle house of Hardy Brothers somewhere around 1930 and, ugly or not, they are tricky to find. But we should not get carried away with occasional high values. As with most collectables the price will be dictated by age, scarcity and condition – and of course desire. The most commonly found of British vintage floats stem from the 1950s and 1960’s. They tend to change hands at prices ranging from a modest fifty-pence or so up to ten or twenty pounds for a desirable piece. Older, more characterful examples might creep up to thirty pounds apiece while real specimens will often climb into the sixty or seventy pounds bracket. Then there are the super rare to consider – very old reed floats, bone or ivory tipped floats and some Victorian labelled examples – all of which can easily clear the one hundred pounds barrier several times over. So, if you are moving around in the world of antiques and collectables do keep your eyes (and your wallet) open!
Finally, here are a few useful notes. If you come upon floats with the line attached, don’t be tempted to remove it because it can add dating context and authenticity – you might also be inadvertently discarding early horsehair line which has a value. Similarly, if you find old floats and tackle wound onto elongated wood or plastic winders, like those in the picture above (all circa 1900), leave it as it is and don’t be tempted to separate anything, regardless of how tatty the ensemble looks. Due to their organic fragility and frequent exposure to damp flaking paint or varnish is fairly commonplace. It is better to leave this rather than attempt a DIY touch-up. Unless you are a gifted restorer it’s best to leave well alone and sell the item as you found it. If you are a collector and find yourself having bought vintage floats that show signs of worm infestation, rather than apply chemical remedies which can ruin old paint or varnish, try placing your treasures into a plastic bag and then into the freezer for around 70 hours max. This will kill off your bugs without damaging the artefacts. But do thaw slowly.