The Build-Up: A Spontaneous Fishing Challenge
It all started with a text from my buddy Jian. His friend had recently taken over a small reservoir and was letting people fish for free to clear out the overpopulated crucian carp—you know, the ones that hog all the food and stunt the growth of bigger fish. As someone who’s always up for a new fishing spot, I was in before he even finished his sentence. Well, almost. My buddy Xiao Fang had to skip because his kid was starting school, so he just wished us “empty buckets” (classic fishing banter).
Unlike those crazy early mornings where you fight for the best spot, this was a casual gig. Jian and I rolled out at 8 AM, grabbed breakfast first (priority number one), and then headed to the reservoir. On the way, we joked about who was the “fake master” among us—so naturally, we turned it into a challenge: catch the most crucian carp, and any big fish didn’t count. May the best angler win… or so we thought.
The Fishing Spot: A Hidden Gem (With a Few Quirks)
When we arrived, I realized it wasn’t just a random pond—it was a small mountain reservoir originally built for irrigation. But since the water intake was low, it got leased to private owners. Jian’s friend had just taken it over before the pandemic hit, and between lockdowns and life chaos, it had been neglected for years. Now that spring was here, he was finally planning to fix it up.
We picked two old spots with obvious fishing marks—no sense in reinventing the wheel. We tested the water depth, tossed a handful of rice bran for bait, mixed our lures, adjusted our floats… by the time we were done, the bait was ready. We counted down “1, 2, 3” and cast our first lines at the same time. Game on.
Our Gear: Clash of Styles
Let’s break down our setups, because this stuff matters (and yes, we argued about it later):
- Jian went with a 4.5m rod, 1.2 main line, 0.6 leader line, size 3 sleeve hooks, and a 2g small fragmented float. He fished at 2.5m deep, adjusted to 4 floats and fished at 2, using a “catch-all sweet” pull lure.
- Me? I opted for a 5.4m rod, 1.5 main line, 0.8 leader line, size 4 sleeve hooks, and a 2.5g nano float. My spot was 4m deep, so I adjusted to 1 float and fished at 1-2, using a “catch-all fishy” rub lure. For new spots, I always test two rods—so I also grabbed a 4.5m rod, one hook with rub lure and one with earthworm, and tossed it to the side.
Jian immediately called me out for using two rods. “Cheater!” he said. But I stuck to my guns—until he made a deal: if I was going to use rub lure on the 5.4m rod, I couldn’t switch lures. Fine, I thought. I reeled in the 4.5m rod and focused on the 5.4m one. Little did I know, that decision would come back to haunt me… or not.
The Frenzy Begins: Who Caught First?
Not even a few casts in, Jian yelled, “Fish on!” He pulled up a crucian carp and waved it in my face like he’d won the lottery. I rolled my eyes, but then—bam! My 4.5m rod (the one I’d tossed aside) had a bite. It was a crucian carp too, and it was healthy… but wait, its body was white? Most reservoir fish are yellow. Maybe the water quality was different? Either way, it was definitely a wild crucian carp—score one for me.
Jian laughed and said, “Okay, okay, you got one. But let’s see who catches more.” We got back to casting, and that’s when the madness started. My float suddenly shot up—I lifted the rod, and… it was a tiny wheat ear fish. I showed Jian, and he gave me a thumbs up. “Nice! Catching wheat ears with a 5.4m rod—impressive.” Thanks, buddy. Real supportive.
Nonstop Action: Why We Regretted Not Bringing a Fish Needle
That wheat ear was just the warm-up. Next thing we knew, we were catching fish left and right. Jian even got double catches a few times—show-off. I tried to match him, but double catches were hit or miss. I only managed two the whole day. But here’s the thing: my fish were bigger on average. Maybe because I was fishing deeper (4m vs. his 2.5m)? Or maybe my rub lure was more appealing? Who knows—all I cared about was keeping up.
We both noticed something weird about the bites: if the fish took the top hook, the float would dip fast; if it took the bottom hook, the float would rise slowly. And almost all of them were “right in the mouth” catches—no missed bites here. But then we realized our mistake: we forgot to bring a fish needle. You know, that little tool that helps you take the hook out quickly? With how many fish we were catching, we were fumbling with hooks for minutes at a time. Ugh—total rookie move.
We weren’t the only ones fishing, though. A few villagers were there too, using earthworms and heavy weights. But they barely caught anything. Jian joked, “These fish are spoiled! They don’t like earthworms—only sweet or fishy lures.” He was right—every time we cast, we got a bite, but the villagers were just sitting there. Sorry, guys—better luck next time.
The Midday Lull (Sort Of): Sun, Wind, and Wheat Ear Interruptions
By noon, the sun was beating down, and a light wind picked up. The water rippled, but the fish kept biting. I adjusted my float to 3 floats and fished at 1-2—just to mix things up. It worked. I was still catching fish, but the wheat ear fish started to show up more. Jian’s sweet pull lure was attracting them like crazy—he’d get a bite, lift the rod, and it was a wheat ear. He finally got frustrated and said, “Enough! I’m switching to rub lure.” Did he? Maybe. But by then, we were both so tired of wheat ears that we just laughed it off.
We took a break around 1 PM, ate some snacks, walked around the reservoir, and chatted. Jian’s friend stopped by and told us more about the reservoir. “I haven’t had time to clean it up,” he said. “But with how many fish you’re catching, maybe I should let more people come.” We told him he should—this spot was a goldmine.
The End of the Challenge: Why We Called It Quits Early
By 2 PM, the sun was scorching, and the wind had picked up. We were still catching fish, but it was getting uncomfortable. Plus, we were both exhausted. Jian looked at me and said, “You know what? I’m done. My arm hurts.” I nodded. “Same here. Let’s count the fish.”
We pulled out our fish bags: mine was 25cm, his was 33cm. We dumped them out, and… surprise! Jian had more fish (like, a lot more), but my fish were bigger. When we weighed them, they were almost the same total weight. So… it was a draw. We stared at each other, then laughed. “Well,” Jian said, “I guess we’re both fake masters.”
Final Thoughts: Why This Fishing Trip Was One for the Books
As we packed up, I couldn’t help but smile. This trip had everything: a new spot, friendly competition, nonstop action, and even a few laughs at our own mistakes (like forgetting the fish needle). Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Even if we didn’t catch a ton of big fish, the experience was worth it.
To all the anglers out there: if you ever get the chance to fish a neglected reservoir, take it. You never know what you’ll find. And don’t forget your fish needle—trust me, you’ll need it. As for Jian and me? We’re already planning our next challenge. Maybe a night fishing trip? Or a competition for the biggest fish? Either way, it’s going to be epic.
