2024 Fishing Diary 1: Catching Small Crucian Carp in the Abandoned Yellow River Amid Thick Fog

January 4th: Waking Up to a Foggy Riverbank

I arrived at the riverbank early in the morning. The north bank was empty, but I could hear fishermen chatting on the south bank. A local farmer had a bunch of dogs, and they were barking like crazy—total chaos! The only thing I could hear was sound; I couldn’t see a single thing. Thick fog covered everything! The visibility was only about 40 meters, and sometimes it dropped to just 20. Man, the fog swallowed up everything!

The Small Float Platform and the Challenge of Finding a Spot

The small float platform under the willow tree sat quietly there, surrounded by fishing trash. I climbed up first to prepare my fishing spots. There were no markers—everything on the opposite bank was invisible. Everything was just a blur. How was I supposed to find a good spot? Suddenly, two white plastic floats appeared about 50 meters to my right. Those were used by net fishermen to keep their nets from sinking and to mark where the nets were. If I saw those, I knew where the nets were. I used them as a marker to test if the bottom was clean. After probing for a while, I found a spot about the size of a basin that was free of weeds and set up a fishing spot there. I just guessed for the spot straight ahead—if I found it, great; if not, I’d just cast around!

There was a ready-made fishing spot 25 meters to my right. I went over to check; the bottom was clean, but there were no markers. There was a reed root sticking out of the water about 20 centimeters, about 5 or 6 meters from me. I used that as a marker and set up another fishing spot.

Standing on the bank here, I was further back than the float platform, and the water was about 30 centimeters shallower than when I was on the platform.

Chilly Winds and a “Masked Bandit” Hat

There was a light southwest wind. Even with the wind, the thick fog wouldn’t blow away! The temperature was minus one degree Celsius, and the wind felt like it was cutting my face and ears. I ran to my car to grab a knit fleece hat—you know the kind where you pull the brim down so only your eyes are exposed? It’s also a fishing hat. I put it on, only my eyes showing. Ha, I looked like a masked bandit! This hat has a built-in scarf, which is better than the hood on my down jacket. It was nice and warm, and I wasn’t cold anymore!

Listening to Other Fishermen and the Foggy World

Fishermen on the south bank were already catching fish. Double hook? Yeah. Big? No. I could hear their conversation clearly, but the fog was so thick I couldn’t see a thing.

A blacktop road was 30 meters to the north. I could hear the roar of local people’s three-wheeled motorcycles speeding by and the horns of cars passing, but I couldn’t see any vehicles.

I sat in the poplar forest, and it sounded like it was raining in there! The fog condensed into water on the branches, and big drops fell with a “plop plop” sound. My fishing gear bag got wet, and my clothes did too.

Waiting for Bites: The Cold Snap Hangover

I prepared my fishing spots at 7:30 and started testing at 8:05. Neither of the two spots here had bites, and the one to the west didn’t either.

The big cold snap that started on December 10th was still hitting hard today. I stayed at my daughter’s house in Suqian for half a month, right by Luoma Lake. I brought my fishing gear but didn’t get to fish once. Rain, snow, cold weather, unpredictable skies—temperatures were all over the place. I did drive to the lake twice. There were very few fishermen there, and the few who were used casting rods. Their catches were minimal.

I hadn’t posted in 25 days. After returning to Siyang from Suqian, I fished twice. Once in a lake-connected irrigation river in Luji, Siyang. I caught three small fish.

A fishing buddy who came with me is my cousin and classmate. He caught one crucian carp, also small. The river was frozen in the morning, so we had to find broken bricks to smash holes before we could set up our spots.

The next day, December 29th, I went to Huai’an. I took the south road and stopped at the Abandoned Yellow River in Lijia Town when I saw some fishermen there. I joined in from 9 to 1 o’clock—blank! That’s a fishing term for catching nothing, by the way.

Five of us fished that day: one guy caught one crucian carp, another caught two (one in the morning, one in the afternoon), and three of us blanked. I’m a veteran blanker, and the other two young guys were blanking too. The three blankers used one Taiwan rig and two traditional rigs.

Today’s Catch: Finally Some Action!

What would happen today? I thought I should catch something—people who arrived earlier on the opposite bank were already catching fish. I picked up the trash around the small float platform, put it in a bag, and took it to the roadside where the village cleaners would pick it up. Then I officially started fishing.

An hour later, I got a bite!

It was in the spot on the right with the marker. I never found the spot straight ahead without a marker! Since the right spot had fish, the left spot should too, but I didn’t catch a single fish there. I moved my hook around, left and right, front and back, but I still couldn’t find it. Stupid thick fog cost me a fishing spot!

The Right Spot Kept Producing: Even a Spree!

The right spot kept having bites—there was even a spree for a while. I went to check the spot to the north. I caught two fish there. Using the nearby reed root as a marker wasn’t accurate; maybe the wind moved the reed root? I just cast around, and maybe twice my hook was near the spot, so I caught two. I had a fish slip off the hook in the spot and another one fall off when I pulled it out of the water.

When I went back, I still couldn’t find the lost spot, but the right spot kept giving fish. I caught more than 20 crucian carp there! They weren’t big—the biggest was about 1.5 taels (around 75 grams), most were about 1 tael (50 grams). I also caught tiny baby crucian carp and released them after unhooking.

Fog Lifting, Wind Picking Up, and Sun Peeking Through

From 10:30 to 11 in the morning, the wind picked up, and my rod bent with the wind. The fog couldn’t stay and started to clear! The embankment and trees on the opposite bank first appeared as black outlines, then slowly revealed their true colors. The sun showed up at 11:30, half hidden, no red glow—like a bright full moon hanging in the sky. It was silver and bright, and the clouds were racing by, making it look like the sun was running!

I was on the north bank with a southwest wind, a bit of a crosswind. The river had waves, so I used a medium-sized stand-up float with good buoyancy. Casting was mostly okay, but I had to be careful not to let the hook land on hidden weeds. When the float showed 4 to 2 eyes, I’d get a bite right away. If it showed 13 to 8 eyes, it landed on hidden weeds—there were fish moving, but I couldn’t hook them. So I had to keep moving the hook until it showed 4 to 2 eyes. The wind made it hard to cast accurately the first time, but that’s okay—no rush.

Fishing is all about patience, perseverance, willpower, resilience, personality, and art! It’s about overcoming difficulties, removing obstacles, and outsmarting the fish to catch them! It’s like grinding an iron rod into a needle—try and fail, try again, and finally succeed!

New Fishing Spots and Midday Break

As soon as the houses, big trees, bird nests in the trees, notice boards on the embankment, and parked cars on the opposite bank appeared, I quickly set up two more fishing spots and two more at the spot to the north.

By the time I finished setting up the new spots, it was lunchtime. I took a break and ate. I brought a power bank to charge my phone—Apple’s biggest flaw is short battery life, nothing like Huawei’s long-lasting batteries.

The water drops from the trees were gone.

I was the only one fishing on the north bank. There were a lot of people on the south bank—they didn’t have a headwind there.

The forest was so quiet it felt like no one was around!

Afternoon Fishing: Good Bites and Sun Glare

I started fishing again at 1 pm after lunch. I planned to stop at 3 pm. The two hours had good bites, and all the spots I set up had fish. But around 2 pm, the sun moved over, and the light reflected off the waves, creating a blinding bright strip. Two spots (one here, one there) were ruined when the bright strip hit them—of course, we caught fish before that happened.

Changing Hats and the Beautiful Afternoon

I took off the windproof hat before 12 pm—it was too warm, I was sweating. Also, its brim was too small, so I switched to a wide-brimmed fishing hat to block the sun.

The sun was pretty strong in the afternoon around 2 or 3 pm. After the Winter Solstice, the sun rises a bit higher, and each day gets a little longer—about two minutes more every day. Everything is moving toward better fishing weather. The sun felt warm on my body, the sky was clear without a cloud, a deep blue like jade, the same color as the river.

Packing Up and a Curious Fisherman

I packed up my gear at 3 pm. A guy came over and asked, “How’d you do?” Just as I pulled my fish basket out of the water, he saw it and said, “Nice catch!” I asked, “You just got here?” Yeah. He said, “I wanted to fish here with a Taiwan rig.” He looked around and added, “No way—headwind and glare.” Then he left, drove across the bridge, and went to the opposite bank.

Final Thoughts: Third Fishing Trip of the Year

This was my third fishing trip of the new year, and the catch was okay—just small fish, perfect for making soup. I took all my trash with me, of course. Man, what a day—from foggy chaos to sunny success. Next time, I’ll bring a better marker for those foggy days! Maybe a bright orange float or something. Can’t wait to see what the next diary has in store. Tight lines, everyone!