There was a time when angling equipment was not mass-produced carbon fibre or precision-engineered alloys, but instead handmade with care and artistry. The split-cane rod, in particular, remains an icon of traditional coarse fishing, the unmistakable honey-coloured varnish gleaming in the morning sun. These rods were not only functional but beautiful – crafted by skilled hands, each with its own subtle character. To fish with cane is to embrace both the sport and its history.

The centrepin reel, too, is a symbol of that heritage. Its design is simple: a drum revolving freely on its spindle, allowing the line to peel off naturally with the flow. There is no clutch, no gearing, no mechanical complexity to separate the angler from the water. Instead, control comes from touch, thumb against rim, and an instinct for timing that only develops with practice. To hear the steady purr of a centrepin as a fish runs downstream is to hear music from another age.

For many anglers today, using cane and pin is less about efficiency than connection. Modern rods are undeniably lighter and stronger, reels smoother and more precise. But in their pursuit of perfection, they can sometimes feel sterile. Other classic angling accessories have also been overtaken by lighter, smarter options, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they are better – I’ve been using the same handmade wooden disgorger for my river fishing for nearly 15 years now… if your plastic one hasn’t gone brittle or snapped in this time, you can almost guarantee it’s been dropped into the water, sinking to its final destination.

Nostalgia plays its part, too. All anglers recall their first pieces of tackle – rods showing many marks from seasons on the bank: scuffs, worn cork, and faded whipping, each one telling a story. To carry such equipment is to carry your own piece of history, and if handed down it’s certainly a way to link one angling generation to the next.

Fishing with traditional tackle undoubtedly encourages a slower, more reflective style of angling. Trotting a float with a centrepin requires focus, balance, and patience. Playing a fish on cane demands skill, as every surge and twist is magnified through its living fibres. There is an intimacy here — a historical partnership between angler and gear. Personally, having a handmade wooden disgorger hanging on a cord around my neck, some small corked glass jars of swivels, and a mini hip flask filled with sloe gin in my pocket as I rove the banks makes me feel like I could be fishing in any forgotten decade!

Some might dismiss our ‘old’ tackle as relics, charming but impractical. Yet to those who choose to embrace them represent a philosophy: that fishing is not always a race to the biggest weight or the fastest catch, but a gentle art, where the journey matters as much as the destination. They remind us that angling is as much about feel as it is about outcome. In the creak of cane, the hum of an old reel, and the slow cocking of a quill, we experience the beating heart of coarse fishing’s enduring charm.