Fu River Fishing: The Surprises That Come With Persistent Exploration

Let me tell you—there’s nothing like the thrill of figuring out a new fishing spot, especially when that spot is the Fu River. I’ve been chasing fish here for months, and honestly? I thought I had it all figured out… until I didn’t. Stick around, and I’ll spill the tea on how a little curiosity turned my “meh” fishing trips into something straight-up exciting.

From Chicken Liver & Catfish to Short Rods & Redtails: My Fu River Evolution

First off, let’s rewind. When the Fu River started receding earlier this year, I was stuck in a fishing rut. I’d grab a chunk of chicken liver, plop it in the water, and hope for a catfish or flathead. Don’t get me wrong—catfish are fine, but after a while? It’s just the same old, same old. No surprises, no “wait, what’s that tugging?” moments. Boring, right?

Turns out, the receding water turned a ton of anglers into “stalking rod” (that’s what we call our fixed-line rods here) pros. Me? I was a total newbie at this method. But hey, practice makes perfect—sort of. Here’s the thing that changed everything: I stopped reaching for the big rods and heavy line. Instead, I grabbed a 4.5-meter Shuangzi Carp rod, paired it with 2lb mainline, 1lb fluorocarbon leader, and size 6 sleeve hooks. And I swapped the chicken liver for “old three samples” bait (you know the one—commercial mix with a little extra something). Game. Changer.

Why Short Rods & Light Tackle Worked for Fu River’s Shallows

Let’s break it down. When the river’s low, the water near the bank is only like 1 meter deep—super shallow. Big rods? Total overkill. Short rods let me cast right where the fish are hiding (spoiler: it’s the little pockets and eddies you’d miss if you were casting far). Light line? It’s invisible in the clear water, so the fish don’t get spooked. And those tiny hooks? They slip right into the mouths of redtails, flatheads, and even small grass carp without the fish feeling like they’re eating a rock.

• Rod: 4.5m Shuangzi Carp (stiff enough for big tugs, light enough for all-day use)
• Line: 2lb main, 1lb leader (thin = stealthy; strong enough for 2kg fish)
• Hook: Size 6 sleeve (small = more hookups, less missed bites)
• Bait: “Old three samples” (commercial mix with corn, wheat, and protein—fish go crazy for it)

Oh, and I added a net. Duh. You don’t want to lose a 2kg flathead because you forgot a net. Trust me, I’ve been there.

A September Afternoon at Tower West Road Sluice: The Perfect Spot

Fast forward to September 20th. The temperature dropped 7 degrees overnight—chilly, cloudy, no sun. Perfect fishing weather, if you ask me. I headed to the Fu River’s Tower West Road Sluice, then walked 150 meters downstream into the main channel. Why there? Because it’s quiet. Like, really quiet. When I got there, there were no anglers within 50 meters, and only 5 or 6 guys within 100 meters. Stalking rods hate crowds—too much splashing, too many lines crossing. Plus, I’d caught a 1kg flathead and a 2.5kg grass carp here before. Why mess with a good thing?

Setting Up: The 10-Minute Prep That Paid Off

I got there at 2:30 PM, but by the time I set up my rod, put on the bait, and did the usual “wait, did I forget the net?” panic check, it was 3:15 PM. First step? I threw 4 handfuls of original pond pellets into the water right where my rod tip was pointing. Old rule: “If you don’t chum, you don’t catch much.” And chumming near the bank? Way easier than chumming far out—you know exactly where the fish will gather.

Wait, let’s be real—waiting is the worst part. But this time? It took less than 10 minutes. I was staring at my phone, half-listening to a podcast, when my rod tip started wiggling. Like, not a tiny tap—actual wiggling. I grabbed the rod, lifted it, and bam! A beautiful redtail hit the bank before I even had to reel. Three ounces, maybe? Small, but pretty. And that’s when the fun started.

The Redtail Bonanza: Shallows Hold More Fish Than You Think

For the next hour, it was nonstop action. I’d cast, wait 5 minutes, get a bite, reel in a redtail. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I kept thinking, “Wait, this is shallow water—how are there so many fish?” But they were there. Hiding in the little dips, the edges of the reeds, even right under my feet. You just have to know where to look.

The Big One That Got Away: A 3kg+ Carp Story

Then, at 4:20 PM, everything changed. My rod tip started shaking—fast, hard shakes. I thought, “Another redtail.” But when I lifted the rod? Oh my god. It was heavy. Like, really heavy. The fish swam two circles right near the bank, then suddenly it bolted into the main channel. And then… snap. My 1lb leader broke. I only saw its tail, but it was huge—definitely over 3kg. Ugh. The one that got away. Classic.

But hey, no time to mope. I threw two more handfuls of pellets into the water (gotta fix that hole in the chum line) and kept fishing. For the rest of the afternoon? Back to redtails. The biggest one was maybe four ounces—small, but feisty. And here’s the thing: no flatheads that day. Just redtails. Nonstop. It was weird, but fun.

Stalking Rods: Big Hooks = More Missed Bites? My Verdict

Now, let’s talk about stalking rod myths. A lot of anglers say, “Use big hooks and heavy line—there are big fish in the river!” But wait, I tried that once. Used a size 10 hook and 4lb line. I got like two bites all day, and both were misses. Why? Because big hooks don’t fit in the small mouths of redtails and flatheads. You’re just hooking the outside of their mouths, not the inside. So they shake free.

And let’s be honest: I don’t fish for trophies. I fish for fun. For the “oh my god, what’s that?” moment when you feel a tug. For the laugh when you reel in a tiny redtail that’s way too small to keep. Even when I lose a big one? It’s still fun. Because it means the fish are there. It means the river still has surprises.

Wrapping Up: A Day of Redtails & A Reminder to Cherish

By 6:30 PM, the sun was gone. It was getting dark, and I’d run out of bait. I reeled in one last redtail (my “closing fish,” as I call it) and packed up. Total catch? Three or four pounds of redtails. Not a trophy haul, but perfect for a fry-up with friends.

But here’s the sad part: the Fu River is still receding. If it keeps going, us anglers might not have anywhere to fish. So every trip now? I’m not just chasing fish. I’m chasing memories. The sound of the rod tip wiggling. The feel of a big fish tugging. The laugh when you lose one. Because who knows how long we’ll have this spot?

So if you’re ever in the area, give the Fu River a try. Bring a short rod, light line, and some “old three samples” bait. And don’t forget: the best surprises come when you stop doing the same old thing and start exploring. Trust me—I’ve been there.