Rainy Day Traditional Fishing: Catching Small Carp and Crucian Carp on a Tight Schedule

Let me tell you—fishing when the sky’s threatening to dump rain? Total chaos, but also total magic if you play your cards right. I squeezed in a quick session on September 14th, and let’s just say Mother Nature threw every curveball at me: drizzle, wind, time crunches, and even a last-minute dash to pick up my kid from dance class. But hey, that’s part of the fun, right? Let’s dive into the messy, rewarding details.

The Setup: Gear That Had to Keep Up With the Chaos

First off, let’s talk gear—because when you’re juggling drop-offs and rain, you need stuff that’s reliable, not finicky. Here’s what I packed:

• Rod: 6.3m Shenji (traditional Chinese rod, perfect for quick casts and close-quarters fishing)
• Line & Float: 3m seven-star float (you know, those tiny, flexible floats that’re a staple for traditional anglers)
• Hook: Haixi upward-facing hook (game-changer for shallow water and quick bites)
• Bait: Good old earthworms—can’t beat ’em for small crucian carp and baby carp

Why this combo? The seven-star float is a legend for a reason: it’s super sensitive to tiny bites, super easy to adjust, and doesn’t take 10 minutes to set up. Perfect for when you’ve got 20 minutes to fish before a kid’s dance class ends. Quick win.

The Morning (and Midday) Chaos: Rain, Kids, and Last-Minute Plans

Let’s rewind to the start. The morning was freezing—temps under 20°C (that’s like 68°F for my US friends), and I was already regretting not grabbing a thicker jacket. But I had a mission: drop my daughter at dance class, then sneak in fishing. So I hit the road early, took a detour to a small river to scope it out. Rain was light then, but the wind? Oh, the wind was brutal—“fish wind” as we call it, where it’s so strong it messes with your float and your mood.

Before dropping the kid off, I did a quick “pre-fish” move: I scattered some rice wine bait (a local trick for drawing in small fish) in two spots: one near the east bridge grass, and another in the middle of the river where there were tangled branches. Pro tip? Don’t forget your bait like I did—I left the rice wine bag on the riverbank, panicked for 30 seconds, then ran back and saw it was still there. No other anglers around, so I was basically a lone wolf in the rain. Cool, but also a little lonely? Whatever, fishing’s better alone sometimes.

The Afternoon: Dance Class Drop-Off, Muddy Roads, and Floating Trouble

After dropping my daughter at dance (shoutout to my wife for signing her up—genius move to get 2 minutes of fishing time), I hauled my gear to the river. The road? Total mud. Only my 4WD could handle it—thank goodness I didn’t take the sedan. On the way, I chugged an AD calcium milk (weird, but it’s my go-to energy boost when I’m rushing) and mentally prepped.

When I got to the river, the first thing I saw? All the usual fishing spots were covered in floating duckweed. Ugh. My original plan was to make a grass ring, toss it into the duckweed, then scoop out the center to make a “fishing hole.” But guess what? The grass ring sank immediately. Total fail. So I pivoted—classic fishing move, right? Adapt or go home empty-handed.

First Spot: Middle of the River (Shallow Water, Tangled Branches)

I headed to the middle of the river where the water was less than 1m deep—shallow, but full of branches (fish love hiding there, remember? They’re dumb but have survival instincts). I set up the seven-star float, baited with a whole earthworm (pinched into a small section), and cast. Almost immediately, the float started twitching—tiny bites from minnow or small crucian carp. I waited for the float to sink two beads or pop up one, then set the hook. But nothing. Just empty hook, worm chewed to bits.

Switched to a different worm, same result. The float was dancing like crazy, but I couldn’t hook anything. Annoying? Yes. Surprising? No—small fish love teasing you. So I cut my losses and moved.

Second Spot: West Bank Grass Edge (Duckweed Gap)

Next, I hit the west bank where the wind had blown some duckweed away, leaving a tiny clear spot. I adjusted the seven-star float—beads 2cm apart (no hard rule, just what I can see clearly). Baited with a worm, cast into the gap. Instantly, the float twitched again—same tiny bites. Then it went quiet. Worm gone, chewed by minnow. So I went back to whole worm (no more “waist threading” for me—too many false bites).

Then? Bam. Float popped up two beads. I set the hook, and… a tiny mandarin fish! Cute, but I didn’t have a bucket, so I tossed it back. Kept fishing, but nothing else. Moved on again.

Third Spot: East Bridge (Grass Edge, Last Shot)

By now, I was down to 15 minutes before I had to pick up my daughter. I headed to the east bridge, cast right next to the grass. The float twitched super gently—no crazy dancing, just tiny jumps. Then it sank two beads. I set the hook, and felt weight. Yes! A small crucian carp—finally, a decent catch. I snapped a bunch of photos (fishing bragging rights, duh) then tossed it back (no bucket, remember?).

Hooked on another worm, cast again. Then my wife called: “Dance class ends in 10 minutes—hurry!” I panicked, set the rod down, went to wash my hands (worm slime is the worst), came back, and… the float was gone. I thought I’d snagged grass, but when I pulled up? A tiny carp fry—probably escaped from a nearby pond. Perfect end to the chaos.

I packed up in 2 minutes flat (traditional gear is so fast to break down), jumped in the 4WD, and zoomed to pick up my kid. Mission: sort of accomplished. No fish kept, but I caught two small ones—and that’s a win on a rainy, time-crunched day.

Quick Detour: Seven-Star Float 101 (Because I’m a Nerd)

Before I wrap up, let’s answer a question I’ve been curious about: why is it called a seven-star float? Is it just seven beads? Nope. From what I’ve learned, it’s named after the Big Dipper (seven stars) because the beads’ shape on the water looks like the constellation. Or sometimes it’s the “7” shape. Either way, it’s a classic for a reason—sensitive, flexible, perfect for shallow water and quick fishing.

Bonus: Pre-Made Bait Hack (From My Fishing Forum Rant)

Last night, I saw a post on a fishing forum: “Does pre-made bait get watery and ruin the effect?” I had to reply, because I’ve struggled with this too. Here’s the lowdown (with a nod to fishing legend Deng Gang):

• Pre-made bait is only good if you can’t get water at your spot or you’re fishing for <2 hours max.
• It will get watery—no way around it. Wipe the excess water with a cloth if you can.
• Myth bust: Fish don’t care about “good” or “bad” bait. They smell it, not watch it. So even if it’s sticky, it’ll still work.
• Bottom line: Practice. Every spot is different, every day is different. Don’t overthink it—just cast.

That’s it for my rainy day fishing adventure. Total chaos, but so worth it. Next time, I’m bringing a bucket. And maybe a rain jacket that doesn’t leak. Until then, tight lines!