Unexpected Invitation to Private Ponds
It all started with a text from my old army buddy early in the morning. “Hey, I got a spot—my friend has two private ponds we can fish today!” he said. I’d been craving a good fishing trip lately, but wild fishing had left me unsatisfied every time. Private ponds? Sure, why not! I didn’t hesitate for a second and grabbed my gear to head out.
The ponds were 15 kilometers away, and some sections of the road were a bit slow, but I still made it in half an hour. When I arrived, my buddy was already setting up his rod and casting—typical him, always in a hurry. But I took my time. The sky was drizzling, and the temperature was low; fish aren’t exactly active in that kind of weather, right? So I leisurely unpacked my stuff, no rush at all.
These two ponds are only a few dozen meters apart, each over two mu (about 0.13 hectares) in size originally. But the water level had dropped more than a meter, so the actual area was way smaller now. Just looking at them, I wondered if the fish were all crowded together or scattered.
Setting Up: Gear for Small Fish (Since Big Ones Are MIA)
Before I even cast, I heard the tea: the big guys—grass carp, bighead carp, bream—have never been caught here. Like, never. Everyone just fishes for crucian carp and silver carp (the small, annoying kind). Ugh, no big fish? Then why bother with heavy gear?
So I went light: 1.2 main line + 0.6 leader, size 3 gold hook, a 1.3g reed float, and my 5.4m Zhu Lu Classic rod. For bait, I mixed half “all-purpose fishy” and half “all-purpose fragrant” to make a pulling bait—my go-to for most trips.
I hit the spot with some self-brewed rice wine bait to attract fish, then started mixing my bait. And sure enough, the small fish showed up first—they’re always the vanguard, whether you want them or not. Even the crucian carp that bit first were tiny, less than a liang (about 50 grams). Like, come on, can’t a guy get a decent bite first?
Midday Shift: Slightly Better Bites, But Still No Thrill
By noon, the crucian carp getting hooked were a little bigger—finally, something over a liang! But just as I was getting into it, my buddy’s friend brought lunch. We ate, chatted a bit, then I decided to switch to the other pond. Maybe the fish there were more generous?
After lunch, the temperature rose a bit, and the fish got way more active. Especially the silver carp—they were at the bottom! Every bite was a black float, which was weird but also kind of fun? The water there was about 1.5 meters deep, and the crucian carp I caught had shiny silver scales, which looked nice. But nice scales don’t make up for the fact that they were still small.
Oh, and I caught two golden fish! They looked exactly like crucian carp, but with a bright golden color. My buddy said they’re “carp-crucian hybrids,” but I’m not buying it. Has anyone seen these before? What are they really called?
Good Bites, But Where’s the Fun?
Let’s be real: the bite rate was great. I caught a ton of small fish—crucian carp, silver carp, even those golden weirdos. But here’s the thing: I didn’t feel excited at all. Why? Because there were no big fish to chase. No heart-pounding moment when the rod bends hard, no wondering if you can reel it in. Just tiny tugs, one after another.
Me and my buddy ended up with almost a bucket full of silver carp alone—ridiculous, right? Don’t get me wrong, the day was relaxed, and hanging out with my buddy was nice. But fishing-wise? It felt flat.
Now I get why I’m obsessed with wild fishing. Wild waters have that unknown factor: you never know if a monster is hiding under your float. Private ponds? If you know there are no big fish, it’s just… going through the motions. Yeah, the bites are good, but the thrill is gone.
Tomorrow I’m heading back to the river—wild, messy, unpredictable. That’s where the real fun is. If you’ve ever had this kind of “meh” fishing day, drop a comment below. Let’s commiserate (or brag about your big catches—either way).
