Fishing Newbie’s First Small Catch Bonanza of 2024 in Hangzhou

Let me set the scene: Hangzhou, January 7th. The sky was clear, the breeze was gentle—wait, isn’t this supposed to be right before the Major Cold solar term? But that afternoon, the sun was so warm on my skin that I half-believed spring had already sprung. And honestly? I think the fish in the river felt the same way. Spoiler alert: This wasn’t another “air force” mission (you know, the fishing term for catching zilch).

My Track Record: Three Air Forces Before This Win

Let’s be real—I’m a total fishing newbie. But when it comes to going home empty-handed? I’m a pro. Three times before this trip, I’d packed up my gear with nothing but sunburn and a bruised ego. But that day? The weather was too good to pass up. I thought, “Even if I just feed the fish, at least I’ll get some vitamin D.” So I grabbed my beat-up rod, a jar of bait, and headed out.

The Bait That Smelled Good Enough to Eat (No, I Didn’t Try It)

Here’s my secret weapon (okay, it’s not that secret): I used a small handful of that famous rice wine bait—you know the one, the kind that even I thought smelled delicious. Then I mixed up some all-purpose “fishy” dough bait, the kind that’s bright orange and makes your hands smell like seafood for hours. I plopped the rice bait into a tiny spot in the river, adjusted my rod, and settled in to… well, mostly just enjoy the sun. I figured I’d be scrolling TikTok in 10 minutes anyway.

The First Hour: Same Old, Same Old (Or So I Thought)

For the first 60 minutes? Nada. Zilch. My float sat there like a statue. I checked my bait twice—still there. I adjusted the depth, wiggled the rod, even whispered “come on, fishies” like an idiot. Nothing. I started thinking, “Great, another air force. Why do I even try?” But then… 14:59. That’s 2:59 PM for you non-24-hour clock folks. The float disappeared under the water—fast.

First Fish: My Rod Finally Bends!

I yelped. I forgot how to reel for a second. But then I fumbled with the handle, and up came a tiny fish—maybe an ounce or two? But for me? It was a trophy. I held it up, grinning like a fool, and snapped a photo before letting it go (wait, no—wait, I kept it? Wait, no, let me check: Oh right, I put it in my bucket. Duh, this was a catch bonanza, not a catch-and-release party). That first fish was my “light at the end of the tunnel” (or the end of the rod).

Then It Got Crazy: Rodents, Black Floats, and Top Floats (Oh My!)

After that first bite? The river woke up. I started getting bites every two minutes. Let me list the chaos:

• Rodents (wait, no—“rodents” is wrong, I mean “rod bends”! Oops, brain fart): My rod would jerk so hard I almost dropped it.
• Black floats: The float would sink completely under the water—no warning, just gone.
• Top floats: The float would pop up a little, then disappear—tricky little fish!

I’d only seen these moves in fishing TikTok videos. But now? I was living it. My phone? Forgotten on the ground. I was too busy reeling in fish, unhooking them (badly, I might add—one got away because I couldn’t get the hook out fast enough), and grinning like a maniac.

My Bucket Fills Up: Fish and Water, Mostly Fish

Before I knew it, my tiny bucket was full. Not of water—okay, mostly water, but with a ton of tiny fish. Each one was maybe 1-2 ounces, but for a newbie? This was magic. I kept thinking, “Is this real? Am I actually catching fish?” I even took a video (you can see it in my TikTok, link at the end) of the bucket wiggling with all the little guys inside. My hands were sore, my face was sunburned, but I didn’t care.

What I Learned (Even as a Newbie)

Okay, let’s be real—this wasn’t a “world record” catch. But for me? It was a win. And here’s what I took away (no, not just fish):

• Weather matters: That warm winter day? The fish were active. Don’t go when it’s freezing or pouring.
• Bait that smells good to you might smell good to fish: My rice wine bait and orange dough? Worked like a charm.
• Patience (then chaos): The first hour was boring, but then it hit. Don’t give up too fast.
• Small fish are still fish: Stop chasing big catches. For a newbie, any fish is a win.

I even texted my fishing-obsessed friend: “I didn’t air force! I caught a ton of tiny fish!” He replied: “Finally! About time you stopped feeding the river for free.”

Final Thoughts: A Win for the Newbie

By the time the sun started to set, I was tired but happy. I packed up my gear, grabbed my bucket of tiny fish, and headed home. On the way, I stopped at a convenience store to buy a soda, and the cashier looked at my bucket and laughed: “Nice catch!” I grinned and said, “First time ever!” She nodded like she knew the struggle.

Later that night, I cooked a few of the fish (okay, I asked my mom to cook them—don’t judge) and they were delicious. Tiny, but flavorful. I posted the photos on Instagram, and all my newbie fishing friends commented: “We need your luck!” “Teach us your ways!”

Honestly? I don’t have “ways.” I just got lucky with the weather, used good bait, and didn’t give up. But that’s the thing about fishing, right? Even the smallest catch can make your day. Maybe next time I’ll catch a bigger one. Maybe not. But either way? I’m already planning my next trip. Because after three air forces, a small catch bonanza? It’s enough to make any newbie keep going.