Why I Risked the Post-Storm Weather for a Midday Fishing Trip
Let’s cut to the chase: the past few days have been brutal for fishing. Wind howled like a angry beast, dust and smog turned the sky into a murky mess, and rain showers popped up out of nowhere. It’s spring, which should mean big, fat crucian carp biting like crazy—but I’ve been striking out left and right. I’d watch other anglers haul in fish and feel like I was missing out on the party. So when my lunch break rolled around on April 13, 2024, I didn’t overthink it. I grabbed my gear and bolted for South Canal. I had to get in on the action, even if the odds felt stacked against me.
My Gear: Borrowed Rod, Tiny Line, and a Secret Bait Mix
First off, let’s talk gear—because what you bring can make or break a trip, especially when the water’s acting up. Here’s exactly what I used:
- Rod: A 4.5m Daiwa Zhao 37 action rod, loaned to me by my buddy Zhou (shoutout to the legend for hooking me up!)
- Line Setup: 0.8 main line + 0.4 leader line, paired with a size 3 competitive sleeve hook. Yeah, it’s tiny, but trust me, it works for finicky crucian carp.
- Bait: A 10:8 mix of Fishing King fishy-sweet bait + rice wine-infused rice, formed into poke bait. I also added two drops of my secret custom rice wine essence—don’t ask for the recipe, it’s top secret!
- Float & Sinker: A float with 2.56g weight, plus a 7g through-wire sinker. I thought that heavy sinker would keep me anchored—boy, was I wrong.
The Chaos of Adjusting to Fast-Moving Water
Sunshine, Sweat, and a Confusing Depth Check
I showed up expecting to freeze my tail off—after all, the past week had been windy and cold. Imagine my surprise when the sun was shining bright, and I was sweating through the thermal layer I’d stupidly worn under my jacket. I set up my gear, ready to start fishing, but first I needed to adjust my float. The canal had been drained recently, so the water depth was way different than my last trip.
I fumbled with the float for what felt like forever, trying to get the depth right. Full disclosure: I’m still a total fishing newbie. I couldn’t wrap my head around why the float wouldn’t stay in place. Then I realized—this current was way faster than the last time I was here! One second the float was visible, the next it was submerged, dragged away by the rushing water. I stood there staring at my rod, thinking, “Great, I mixed up all this bait for nothing. I can’t even keep a float upright.”
Going Rogue: Blind Fishing When the Float Won’t Stay Put
I almost packed up and left. But I’d driven all the way here, and my bait was already mixed. So I thought, “Screw it. If the float won’t work, I’ll fish by feel.” That’s right—blind fishing. No float to watch, just counting seconds and trusting my gut. It sounded crazy, but what else was I gonna do?
I plopped down, took a deep breath, and cast my line. I started with a big, egg-yolk-sized chunk of bait—just to test the waters, both literally and figuratively. And wouldn’t you know it? The fish were biting. My first two catches were big white stripers, flipping and flopping like crazy when I reeled them in. Okay, maybe this blind fishing thing wasn’t so dumb after all.
The Non-Stop Action: Blind Fishing Wins the Day
Counting Seconds and Hooking Crucian Carp
After those first two stripers, I settled into a rhythm. I’d cast my line, count to five, and yank the rod. Most of the time, I’d come up empty—but every once in a while, I’d feel that telltale tug. My first crucian carp hit right after I’d started to lose hope. It was small, but it was a start. Then came a double hook-up with two crucian carp, each about two taels (that’s roughly 100g, for my non-Chinese friends). The fight was so satisfying—those little fish put up way more of a fight than I expected!
I kept going, counting and yanking, counting and yanking. The sun was warm on my face, the canal was quiet (just me and the birds), and I was in my element. Being alone by the water like that? It’s the best feeling in the world. No work emails, no traffic, just me, my rod, and the fish. Even when I missed a bite, I didn’t care—I was having fun.
The Big One: A 2-Pound Common Carp That Put Up a Fight
Just when I thought things couldn’t get better, I felt a massive tug on my line. At first, I thought it was a weed or a rock—but then the rod bent into a perfect curve, and I knew this was something big. It dove straight for the bottom, trying to escape, and I had to lean way back, almost falling off my fishing chair, to keep it from getting away. We wrestled for five whole minutes—me reeling in, it pulling back—until finally, I got it to the surface.
It was a 2-pound fully-scaled common carp, and it was gorgeous. I didn’t have a net, so I just reached down and grabbed it with my hands—don’t worry, I washed them later! My fish bucket was only meant for small crucian carp, so after admiring it for a minute, I released it back into the canal. It swam away like it knew it was lucky, and I sat there grinning like an idiot. That’s what fishing’s all about, right? The thrill of the fight, even if you let the fish go.
More Crucian Carp, Then a Sudden End to the Fun
After that carp, I went back to targeting big crucian carp. I kept casting my “triangle cannon” bait chunks (a big ball of bait to attract fish) and counting, and the bites just kept coming. Some were small, some were nice and fat, but every single one fought hard. I even caught a crucian carp that looked like it had been hooked a few times before—its scales were missing in spots, but it still had plenty of fight left in it.
But all good things must come to an end. After two hours of non-stop action, I noticed the water was moving even faster than before—they must have opened the upstream gates. My 7g sinker was now getting dragged two meters away by the current, and even blind fishing wasn’t working anymore. To make matters worse, the sky turned cloudy, and a cold north wind started blowing. I still had half my bait left, but there was no point in staying. The fish were gone, and I was getting cold.
Why This Trip Was a Win, Even With the Chaos
As I packed up my gear, I looked at my catch: 9 fat crucian carp, plus that awesome common carp I released. Sure, I struggled with the fast current. Sure, I spent way too long adjusting my float. Sure, I sweated through my thermal and then froze my butt off. But honestly? It was one of the best fishing trips I’ve ever had.
Fishing isn’t always about catching the most fish. It’s about the moments: the sun on your face, the thrill of a big bite, the quiet peace of being alone by the water. I left South Canal tired, dirty, and covered in fish slime, but I was happier than I’d been all week. If you’re a fellow angler who’s had a string of bad trips, don’t give up. Sometimes you just have to roll with the chaos, fish by feel, and let the day take you where it wants. Who knows? You might just hook the fish of your dreams.
