Caught More Than 5 Days’ Total This Afternoon – Big Crucian Carp Biting Fiercely!

Introduction: From “Airborne” Morning to “Fierce Biting” Afternoon

Oh man, let me tell you—this fishing day was like a rollercoaster ride! One minute I was thinking, “Is this even worth it?” and the next, I was reeling in fish so fast I barely had time to blink. Let’s start from the beginning: the past few days had been rough. I’d been trying raft fishing at Bohai Road Bridge, but honestly? It felt like I was learning to walk while holding a brick—total mess. I couldn’t even manage to get the line right, and half the time I’d forget to strike because I was fumbling with the rod settings. By the end of five days, I was like, “Okay, maybe I need to switch things up.”

So this morning, I thought, “Let’s try something new.” I grabbed my traditional long rod setup—10 meters, seven-star float, sky hook—and headed to Sanqianhu Bridge. I spent two hours there, 8 to 10 AM, with four rods and four nests. But you know what? Nothing. Zip. Nada. I literally “blanked out”—the fishing gods must’ve been sleeping on me that morning. I mean, it was just me, the cold, and a bunch of empty hooks. Classic “airborne” day, no catch at all. Ugh, the worst part? I was so frustrated I almost called it quits. But hey, fishing is like that sometimes—you either get skunked or you hit the jackpot.

Then came the afternoon. I had a dilemma: go home and feel sad, or go out in the haze and try again? Let’s be real—staying home would’ve meant staring at the wall and regretting not fishing. So I suited up, grabbed my gear, and rode my e-bike to Sanqianhu Bridge. This time, I was determined to make it count. Let’s dive into the details!

Morning Misery: Two Hours of “No Catch” at Sanqianhu Bridge

Prepping for War (AKA Nest Material)

First, let’s talk about the morning setup. I’d spent the morning mixing up a ton of nest material—rice wine and rice, basically. You know, the classic stuff for winter crucian carp. I was hoping this would attract some fish, but as soon as I got to the bridge around 8 AM, I knew it was going to be tough. The weather was already gloomy with a haze, north wind 2, 15°C. Wait, 15°C in November? That’s weird for winter, but hey, crucian carp don’t care about that—they’re stubborn little buggers.

I parked my bike on the main bridge and checked the area. No other anglers around! That was a good sign, right? No competition for spots. I set up two nests: one in the middle of the bridge, near the main river, and another at the west end, where there’s a small branch near the high-voltage tower base. Five days ago, I’d caught a 30+ cm crucian there—so that spot was a known producer. I thought, “Perfect, two spots. Let’s see if one of these works.”

Morning “Airborne” Session: 8–10 AM, Zero Fish

From 8 to 10 AM, I just sat there, reeling in the lines every 15 minutes. Nothing. Zilch. My heart sank. I started second-guessing my choice of spots. Maybe the water was too shallow? 0.6–1 meter deep, which is shallow for winter, but crucian carp love shallow in mild weather. Wait, but the north wind was blowing—maybe that stirred up the bottom? Or maybe the haze was messing with their feeding? No clue. But I was stuck. Four rods, four nests, and not a single bite. I mean, this is why I hate morning sessions sometimes—you’re tired, the fish are sluggish, and everything feels off.

By 10 AM, I packed up, defeated. “Great,” I thought, “another wasted day.” But then I remembered: “No fish today? No problem—I’ll try again in the afternoon!” So I left the bridge, vowing to come back and make up for it.

Afternoon Adventure: Haze, Weeds, and a Surprise Catch

Lunchtime and the “Haze Dilemma”: Outdoors or Stay Home?

After lunch, I debated for 10 minutes. Haze weather is bad for health, right? The air quality was poor, so breathing felt heavy. But fishing without a catch? That’s worse for my mental health. I mean, there’s no “magic formula” for that, is there? You can’t win if you don’t try. So I grabbed my gear, slung on my red jacket (which later caused a hilarious photo issue), and headed out.

Riding my e-bike to Sanqianhu Bridge, I kept thinking: “Is this really a good idea?” The bridge was quiet, no other anglers. Perfect. I parked my bike and walked to the west end nest I’d set up earlier. The high-voltage tower’s base had tall water lilies, and the small branch there was still, which is ideal for crucian carp. I re-baited the hook with earthworms, adjusted the float, and cast it in. Then I moved to the middle nest, repeating the process.

First Bite: A “Red-Eyed” Crucian? Wait, No—It’s Just My Jacket!

An hour later, around 1 PM, I was checking the west end nest. The float dipped, then went under! “Finally!” I thought. I struck the rod, and a fish pulled back hard. I reeled it in, and—oh man, it was a good one! Golden scales, high back, maybe 25 cm. I took a quick photo (with my phone, obviously), but when I saw the image, I was confused. The fish looked… red? Like, not normal red. I thought, “Is this some disease?” But then I remembered: I was wearing a red jacket! The reflection off the water made the fish look red. That was a scare! Phew, it was just my jacket. The fish was healthy, beautiful, and a “big plate” (big crucian) by definition.

Okay, so that was the first catch. Then I started reeling in more fish—one after another. They were all around 20–30 cm, all golden crucian carp. I mean, this was like a dream come true! I was so excited I almost dropped my rod. Let me tell you, when you’ve been skunked all morning, this kind of success is *unreal*.

Navigating the “Weed Trap”: A Fish That Fell Into the Water Lilies

But wait, not everything was perfect. One small fish (the smallest of the day, maybe 15 cm) jumped out of my net and plopped into the water lily bed near the high-voltage tower. Oh no! I had to climb over the bridge railing to get it, and I ended up with mud all over my pants and grass in my hair. Classic me, right? Always getting into these scrapes. But hey, that fish was a keeper! I finally retrieved it, and it was a healthy little guy. Just goes to show—even the small ones count.

By 3 PM, the fish were coming in fast. I was using a 10-meter rod, short line, earthworms—simple setup, but it worked. The water was shallow (0.6–1m), so the float sensitivity was key. I’d check the float every 5 minutes, and when it went under, I struck. Each time, the crucian would pull back, putting up a good fight for its size. I mean, these weren’t tiny minnow—they were “big plates” (large crucian carp), so they’re strong!

Why Today Was Different: Winter Crucian Carp Secrets

Small Water Depth, Big Fish Bites

Wait, why did this happen? Shallow water (0.6–1m) in winter? Crucian carp love shallow in mild conditions because the sun warms the water. Even with the north wind, the shallow spots near the bridge were warmer. Plus, I used rice wine and rice for the nest—maybe that fermented a bit in the cold, releasing nutrients that attracted the fish. Earthworms are a winter staple, so that helped too.

I also noticed that the west end branch, separated by the high-voltage tower, had calmer water. The tower blocked the wind, so the water stayed still—perfect for crucian carp, who prefer slow-moving water to feed. The middle nest was more exposed to the wind, so the fish there were slower to bite, but the west end was a goldmine.

Big Fish = Big Flavor

Let me talk about the fish quality. These crucian carp were *golden*—not the usual grayish color. High back, thick bodies, and they’re known for their tender, milky soup. I mean, if you ever want to make a great crucian carp soup, these are the ones. The meat is firm but not tough, and the soup turns out so creamy. Definitely a winter delicacy. I was so happy to catch so many, knowing each one was a good one.

Ending the Day: Too Many Fish, Time to Share

When the Fish Guard Overflows

By 3:30 PM, my fish guard was *full*. I mean, the water was sloshing out because there were so many fish. I couldn’t catch more without them suffocating. So I decided to call it a day. But first, I needed a “ceremonial” last catch. I cast the line one more time, and—there we go! A small crucian, maybe 18 cm, but it counts. I took it out, and that was the last one.

Now, what to do with all these fish? I thought about releasing them, but I remembered my friend “Lao Wai Ge.” He’d been distant lately, and I suspected it was because of a previous argument over fishing bets. I felt bad—we’ve been friends for years! So I decided to take these fish to him as a peace offering. I called him, told him I’d drop off the fish, and he agreed to meet me. It was a small gesture, but I hoped it would mend things.

Lessons Learned: Haze Fishing Isn’t All Bad

You know, I thought haze was a bad idea, but it turned out to be a good day. The key was not fishing in the morning when the wind was stronger, and switching to the afternoon when the fish were more active. Also, choosing the right spots—even small branches separated by structures can hold fish. And sometimes, the simplest gear works best: a long rod, short line, earthworms, and patience.

So, to wrap up: this afternoon was a win. I caught more than the previous five days combined, and I learned a lot about winter crucian carp behavior. Plus, I fixed a friendship issue. Who knew a day in the haze could lead to such success? Maybe next time, I’ll embrace the haze if the fish are biting that hard!

Now, I’m off to cook a big pot of crucian carp soup for Lao Wai Ge and me. Who knows, maybe we’ll fish together again soon. Until next time, happy catching—even if it’s in the haze!