My COVID-19 Recovery and the Itch to Fish
Last weekend, I tested positive for COVID-19. Like so many people who’ve gone through this, I spent the next few days cooped up at home, glued to the couch, sipping warm drinks, and waiting out the worst of the symptoms—fatigue, a scratchy throat, and that all-over body ache that makes even rolling over feel like a marathon. I tried to keep busy with movies and casual scrolling, but my mind kept drifting to one thing: the giant crucian carp that swim in the reservoir near my old high school.
For years, that reservoir has been my go-to spot for chasing trophy crucian carp. There’s something about the fight of a full-pound crucian carp that makes every early morning, every missed bite, and every rainy wait worth it. But when I got sick, I had to put my fishing gear away, and by the time my symptoms started to fade, I was practically bouncing off the walls with cabin fever. I knew I needed to get back out there, even if I was still a little run down. So I made a plan: I’d head to the reservoir as soon as the weather cooperated.
I checked the weather forecast obsessively that week. The morning of my planned trip looked terrible—gray skies, gusty winds, and a chance of light rain, all conditions that make crucian carp skittish and unlikely to bite. I groaned and paced around the house, ready to throw in the towel before I even started. But then I saw the forecast for the afternoon: the sun would break through around noon, and the wind would die down to a gentle breeze. It was a sign. I told myself, “You’ve just fought off a virus—you can wait a few more hours for some good fishing weather.”
The Dash to the Reservoir and Setting Up Shop
As soon as the sun peeked out after lunch, I grabbed my gear and hit the road. I was at the reservoir by 1:15 PM, my boots crunching on the gravel path that leads to my favorite old fishing spots. The air smelled like pine and damp earth, and the sound of the water lapping against the shore was music to my ears. I’d missed this more than I realized.
First order of business: setting up my fishing spots. I had three go-to old fishing holes that I’d been using for months—spots where I’d caught dozens of crucian carp, including a few that came close to a pound. I grabbed my rice bran bait and started tossing small, precise handfuls into each spot. Rice bran is my go-to for crucian carp; it’s cheap, easy to make, and the fish in this reservoir go crazy for it. I made sure to spread the bait evenly, not too much to overwhelm the fish, but enough to draw them in and keep them hanging around.
Next, I set up my gear. I brought two rods with me that day, each tailored for different fishing styles:
- 8-meter long rod with 3.5-meter seven-star float short line: This rod is perfect for precise casting and targeting specific spots, especially in shallow to medium-deep water. The seven-star float system gives me super sensitive bite detection, which is crucial when fishing for finicky crucian carp.
- 6.3-meter grain and wheat rod with 1.5 main line, 0.8 leader, and size 4 sleeve hook: This rod is designed for using live bait or “shaking rice” (a technique where you gently jig rice bait to attract fish). I keep it on hand for days when the fish are less active and need a little extra enticement.
The water depth in my old spots was between 2.2 and 2.4 meters—perfect for crucian carp, which tend to hang out in areas with enough cover but enough open water to swim and feed. I adjusted my floats accordingly, made sure my hooks were sharp, and settled in to wait. I had until 2:40 PM to let the bait work its magic, so I sat on a rock, pulled out a water bottle, and watched the clouds drift by. It was quiet, it was peaceful, and for the first time in days, I felt completely relaxed.
The Slow Wait and the Decision to Try a New Spot
At 2:40 PM, I picked up my 8-meter rod and started fishing. I first tried using the shaking rice technique, which usually gets quick bites from crucian carp. I cast to the edge of my first old spot, gently jiggled the rod tip to make the rice look like a live insect, and waited. And waited. And waited. No bite. I moved to the second old spot, repeated the process, and still nothing. I switched to red worm bait—live bait that’s usually a surefire way to get fish biting—but still, not a single nibble.
I was starting to get frustrated. I’d waited all week for this, I’d timed my trip perfectly around the weather, and now the fish were nowhere to be found. I stuck my 8-meter rod in a crack between two rocks to wait for a slow, steady bite (what fishermen call a “dead bite”) and paced along the shore. It was now 3:30 PM, and I hadn’t had a single sign of a fish. I started to wonder what was going on. Had other fishermen been here since I last visited? Did someone dump a ton of bait in my spots, making the fish too full to bite? Or had the fish moved to a different part of the reservoir because of the recent weather changes?
I knew I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. So I decided to take a chance: I’d walk down to a small cove that I’d never fished before, a spot that was a little more sheltered and a little further away from the main path. I grabbed my rice bran bait, tossed a small handful into the cove, and marked the spot with a small stick. It was a long shot, but I had nothing to lose.
The Payoff: Catching a One-Pound Crucian Carp
I went back to my old spots and kept fishing, but by 4:20 PM, I still hadn’t gotten a single bite. I was ready to call it a day, but then I remembered the new spot I’d baited earlier. I grabbed my 8-meter rod, walked down to the cove, and started using a teasing technique—casting to the spot, letting the bait sit for a few seconds, then gently lifting the rod to move the bait a few inches, making it look like a small fish or insect trying to escape.
At 4:26 PM, it happened. I felt a sharp tug on the line, and my float dipped under the water. I didn’t hesitate—I lifted the rod, and I felt that familiar, powerful fight that only a big crucian carp can give. The fish darted back and forth, pulling the line tight, and I had to lean back to keep it from breaking free. My heart was racing; after all that waiting, all that frustration, this was the moment I’d been chasing. After a minute of careful reeling, I got the fish close to the shore, slipped my net under it, and lifted it out of the water.
I stared at it for a second, grinning like an idiot. It was a beautiful crucian carp—shiny scales, a full belly, and it looked like it weighed at least a pound. I quickly put it in my fishing bucket, then cast back to the spot. A few seconds later, I felt another tug, but I missed the bite. I teased the spot for another 20 minutes, but I didn’t get any more bites. By 5:00 PM, the sun was starting to set, and I was starting to feel a little tired (thanks, COVID-19 recovery). I decided to call it a day, packed up my gear, and headed home.
As soon as I got home, I grabbed my kitchen scale and weighed the fish. It was exactly one pound. I let out a cheer—this was exactly what I’d been aiming for. I cleaned the fish, wrapped it up, and put it in the fridge, already thinking about how I’d cook it (pan-fried with garlic and lemon is my go-to, in case you’re wondering).
Lessons Learned from a Post-COVID Fishing Trip
Looking back on that day, I realized there are a few key lessons that every angler can take away from my experience, whether you’re recovering from an illness or just dealing with a tough day on the water.
Don’t Be Afraid to Try New Spots
My old go-to spots had never let me down before, but for some reason, the fish weren’t biting that day. Maybe another fisherman had been there earlier and dumped too much bait, making the fish full. Maybe the fish had moved to a different part of the reservoir because of the recent weather changes. Maybe I just had bad luck. Whatever the reason, if I hadn’t decided to try that new cove, I would have gone home empty-handed. Sometimes, the best catches come from stepping outside your comfort zone and exploring uncharted territory.
Patience is Key (Even When You’re Frustrated)
There were times that day when I wanted to throw my rod down and storm off. I’d waited all week to fish, I’d timed my trip perfectly around the weather, and I was getting nothing to show for it. But I stuck it out, and it paid off. Fishing is all about patience—you can’t force fish to bite, no matter how badly you want them to. You have to trust your bait, trust your gear, and trust that eventually, the fish will come around.
Listen to Your Body (Especially After Being Sick)
I’ll admit, I pushed myself a little harder than I should have that day. I was still recovering from COVID-19, and by the time I got home, I was exhausted. But being out on the water, breathing the fresh air, and doing something I love made it all worth it. That said, if I’d felt really terrible, I would have cut the trip short. It’s important to listen to your body and not push yourself too hard, even when you’re chasing a trophy fish.
Always Have a Backup Plan
Bringing two rods with different setups saved me that day. When the shaking rice technique didn’t work, I could switch to red worm bait. When my old spots didn’t produce, I could move to a new spot with a rod that was perfect for teasing. As anglers, we can’t predict everything—weather changes, fish move, bait stops working—but having a backup plan can make the difference between a successful trip and a disappointing one.
Final Thoughts: Why Fishing is the Perfect Post-COVID Activity
That trip to the reservoir wasn’t just about catching a one-pound crucian carp. It was about feeling like myself again. After days of being stuck inside, feeling sick and helpless, being out on the water, holding a rod, and fighting a fish made me feel strong, capable, and alive. Fishing is more than a hobby for me—it’s a way to connect with nature, to clear my head, and to challenge myself.
If you’re recovering from COVID-19 or just feeling a little stuck, I’d highly recommend giving fishing a try. You don’t need fancy gear, you don’t need to know everything about fish, and you don’t even need to catch anything (though catching a one-pound crucian carp is a nice bonus). All you need is a rod, some bait, and a little bit of patience. You might be surprised at how much it helps you feel like yourself again.
As for me, I’m already planning my next trip to the reservoir. I’m going to go back to my old spots, do a little more investigating to figure out why the fish weren’t biting, and try to catch another one-pound crucian carp (or maybe even a bigger one). After all, fishing is all about the chase, and I’m already hooked.
