2024 Fishing Report & Reflections on Taihu Lake in Wuxi
As 2024 is about to wrap up, it’s time for the annual review—filled with both joy and a fair share of regrets. Living here in Wuxi, the “Pearl of Taihu Lake” in Jiangsu province, this year threw us a curveball. The rainfall was seriously lacking, and the water levels in Taihu Lake dropped way lower than usual. Let me tell you, it made fishing a real, proper challenge this time around. It wasn’t just about casting a line; it was a constant battle against the conditions.
Spring Fishing Adventures: The Elusive Crucian Carp
Spring brought several attempts, but honestly, only two sessions were truly worth writing home about. It was a season of patience and learning the hard way.
Session One: Hongshawan in Early March
This was a traditional, old-school setup. I waded in with my rain boots—yes, literally into the water—armed with a 10-meter long rod. The strategy? Baiting with fermented rice and fishing with red worms on a classic “seven-star” float rig. The morning was dead quiet. I mean, absolutely nothing. The fish seemed to be having their own little spring romance party deep within the aquatic plants, completely ignoring my offerings.
But then, the magic happened after 3 PM. It was like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly, I had four baited spots active at once, and I couldn’t keep up! The frenzy was so real that my live well actually tipped over. Lost a good number, but still managed to end the day with a respectable haul of around five pounds of fish. A classic lesson: sometimes, you just have to wait for the fish to decide it’s dinner time.
Session Two: Jinyuan Shallow Flat in Late April
This one started late, around 4 PM. The vibe was different immediately. The fish had clearly moved towards the deeper, central parts of the area. The bank was crowded—too many anglers, which probably pushed the fish even further out. I switched to a 6.3-meter rod with a luminous float, size 4 hooks, and a 0.8 sub-line. I brought both prepared bait and red worms.
The surprise? The fish, especially the bigger ones, showed a clear preference for the scented, fishmeal-based bait over the natural red worms! It was a fascinating observation that challenged my usual assumptions. The takeaway: don’t be afraid to experiment, even with the classics.
The May Fishing Drought
Let’s talk about May. What a weird month! The larger fish species were still MIA, but the tiny silver fish? They went absolutely berserk. It was a nightmare. Whether I used bait, worms, or red worms, it was just a non-stop barrage of tiny, annoying bites. Nothing substantial. I’ve officially decided: May is going on my personal fishing blacklist. It’s a month for maintenance, tackle organizing, and maybe just dreaming about better days.
Summer Heat and the Pursuit of Bream
When the summer heat kicks in, so do the bream. I have a soft spot for targeting bream. They’re a family favorite for the dinner table—tender, flaky, and with fewer bones. This year, I chased them in over ten sessions, but the success rate was brutal. I faced empty nets more than 50% of the time. Talk about humbling!
The One Glorious Day at Dongba
The single standout session was in early July at Dongba. It was a proper “limit-out” kind of day. I used a 7.2-meter rod with a size 8 “Big Fish King” sea hook, and the tactic was simple: constant frequency with corn kernels. The fish finally showed up after 1 PM, and from then until 5 PM, it was action. Landed over twenty bream, including a real “manhole cover”-sized one! The crazy part? The spot was still active when I packed up. The biggest lesson with Taihu bream in summer? Getting them to find your spot is 90% of the battle. Once they’re in, holding them isn’t too hard.
But summer on Taihu is no joke. We’re talking strong winds, big waves, and serious current. It tests your gear, your patience, and your skills.
The Big One That Got Away
This one still stings. During a scorching 40+ degree Celsius (over 104°F) heatwave, I was out there. Drank six bottles of water, electrolyte mix, the works—you have to be careful not to get heatstroke. From 4 AM to 11 AM, I had two bites. One was a carp I released. The other… oh, the other.
It was a monster. I was using corn, and it took the upper hook. The setup screamed “grass carp.” But in a moment of lapse, I hadn’t dragged my cast back enough. The fish took off, we went straight to a dead pull, and my 2.0 sub-line snapped like it was nothing. The sight of that broken line disappearing into the deep… that’s the kind of regret that fuels an angler’s dreams (and nightmares) for the rest of the year. A hard lesson in presentation and drag management.
Autumn? What Autumn?
Autumn felt like a non-event for my fishing log this year. Between work, the weird weather patterns, and the lake conditions, I just couldn’t find a rhythm. Let’s just skip this chapter with a sigh and move on.
Winter on Taihu: Beautiful but Sparse
Winter brought only a handful of trips. The crucian carp you do catch are stunning—silver, plump, and perfect. But their numbers? Dismal. We’re talking single digits per trip. It drives home the point: the fish are getting harder to find, period. These winter outings are quiet, contemplative, and filled with hope for the spring thaw.
The winter solstice has passed, which means spring isn’t too far behind. Here’s to hoping 2024 brings better conditions, more tight lines, and fewer tales of the one that got away. To all my fellow anglers out there grinding it out—keep the faith and keep casting!
