Morning Fishing: It’s All About the Fun (Not the Catch!)

Okay, let’s be real—fishermen (and women) are a special breed. We don’t just “like” fishing; we’re obsessed. Last night, after a sunset fishing trip, I tossed and turned for hours. Why? Because my brain was already plotting a morning mission. “I have to work tomorrow,” I thought. “No time for fishing.” But then the fishing bug whispered: “Wake up early. Just an hour. It’ll be worth it.”

And guess what? That bug won. At 5:30 AM—before my alarm even dared to beep—I was wide awake. The sky was just starting to lighten, and I practically sprinted to grab my gear. I was heading back to the same spot I fished yesterday—my “lucky” (well, *sometimes* lucky) local spot. But when I got there? Total shock. An old guy was already there, hauling in a net full of river shrimp. Talk about a mood killer.

When a Shrimp Guy Ruins Your Morning Vibe

I walked up to him, trying to be polite. “Hey, sir—would it be okay if I fish here for an hour? I’ll leave by 7, I promise.” He grumbled something about “disturbing his shrimp” but finally agreed… reluctantly. Ugh. But time was ticking—if I wasted too much time arguing, I’d miss the whole window. So I skipped the pre-fishing ritual (you know, the fancy bait prep and casting practice) and just mixed up my go-to bait right there.

Why I Skipped the Bait Prep (Spoiler: It Didn’t Help)

Normally, I’m all about the process: measuring the bait, adding just the right amount of water, letting it sit. But today? I was in a rush. I dumped the powder, splashed some water, and kneaded it into a blob. It wasn’t pretty, but it was bait. I cast my line, and almost immediately, I saw bubbles—*lots* of bubbles—under the water. Fish were there! They just… weren’t biting. Typical.

I sat there for 20 minutes, staring at the water. Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles. No bites. I started second-guessing everything: Did I use the wrong bait? Was the water too warm? Did the shrimp guy scare all the fish away? Then—*snap*—my rod twitched. A bite! I reeled in as fast as I could, and…

It’s Always the Tiny Fish, Isn’t It?

Yep. A minnow. A *tiny* minnow. The kind that’s so small, you could hold it in your palm. I sighed, unhooked it, and cast again. Same thing. Another minnow. Then another. By 6:30, I’d caught three minnows. And I was *hot*. Like, “sweating through my shirt at 6:30 AM” hot. This year’s weather in Ningbo is insane—30 degrees (that’s 86 Fahrenheit, for my non-metric friends) at sunrise? No wonder the fish were hiding.

When You Think It’s a Big Fish… But It’s Not

Just when I was about to pack up, my rod *jerked*—hard. This was it! A big one! I reeled with all my might, my heart racing. “Finally,” I thought. “A carp! Or a bass! Something worth bragging about!” But when I pulled it out of the water? Another minnow. *Ugh*. I wanted to throw my rod into the river. But then I remembered: fishing isn’t about the catch. It’s about the fun. Right? *Right*. (I had to remind myself that at least 10 times.)

Let’s be honest—this year has been rough for fishing. I’ve had more “air days” (zero fish) than I can count. Some days, I don’t catch a single thing. But that’s part of the game. You can’t win every time. And honestly? The worst days are still better than sitting at a desk. Or dealing with work stress. Or arguing with your roommate about the AC. When you’re by the river, all that stuff disappears.

Fishing = Therapy (For Free)

That’s the real magic of fishing. It’s not about the fish. It’s about the quiet. The sound of the water. The way the sun feels on your skin (even when it’s too hot). The way you can just… *breathe*. No deadlines. No emails. No drama. Just you, your rod, and the river. It’s like a reset button for your brain.

By 7:00, I was done. I packed up my gear, and the shrimp guy was still there, hauling in more shrimp. I waved, but he didn’t wave back. Typical. But I didn’t care. I’d caught three minnows, but I’d also had an hour of peace. That’s a win in my book.

What I Learned (Again) Today

• Skip the fancy bait prep if you’re in a rush (but it might not help).
• Shrimp guys are the worst (kidding… mostly).
• Minnows are *always* the catch of the day (or the only catch).
• Fishing is about the process, not the result.

Oh, and one more thing: I lost one of my minnows. It slipped out of my hand and swam away. So I ended up with two. But who cares? I was going to release them anyway. Catch and release is part of the fun—you get the thrill of the catch, and the fish get to live another day. Win-win.

My Fishing Bucket List

As I walked back to my car, I started daydreaming. I want to fish everywhere. Not just my local river. I want to fish in the ocean—catch a big tuna or a shark (okay, maybe a small shark). I want to fish in lakes, in ponds, in rivers in other countries. I want to retire someday and just travel the world, fishing wherever the mood takes me. That’s the dream.

For now, though, I’ll take my morning minnows. I’ll take the hot sun. I’ll take the grumpy shrimp guys. Because fishing isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being *there*. It’s about forgetting your problems for an hour. It’s about having fun, even when you don’t catch anything.

So the next time you’re stressed? Grab your rod. Wake up early. Even if you only catch minnows. Even if it’s hot. Even if a shrimp guy is there. Just go. You won’t regret it.