Night Fishing on Han River: Unlocking the Yellow Catfish (Huang Gu) for the First Time

Let me tell you—there’s nothing like the thrill of chasing a new fish species. A while back, I was strolling along the Han River at night when I spotted someone reeling in some decent-sized yellow catfish (locally called Huang Gu) with a simple setup: a casting rod and live earthworms. I’d never properly caught one before, so that sight lit a fire under me. I knew I had to unlock this new fish—stat.

Prepping for the Mission: Research & Gear

First step? I hit the internet hard to learn everything I could about Huang Gu fishing. Turns out, they’re nocturnal feeders, love live bait (especially earthworms), and prefer slow-moving or calm spots near structure. So I packed light for this mission—no fancy hand rods here. My gear list was straightforward:

• 3 casting rods (since I was going all-in for this target)
• Single hooks (no trebles—less hassle with those spiny fins)
• Live earthworms (the juicier, the better)
• Bells (to alert me when a fish bites—critical for night fishing)
• A headlamp (duh, can’t see in the dark)

By the next afternoon, I was geared up and heading to my usual Han River spot… or so I thought.

Finding a New Spot: The Great Casting Rod Trek

When I arrived, my go-to fishing area was packed with other anglers. Bummer, but I didn’t let that stop me. I decided to hike further up the river to find a new spot. After 15 minutes of walking (and tripping over a few rocks—oops), I spotted a wooden platform someone had built. It looked like a popular spot for local fishermen, so I figured it must hold fish. Perfect—this was my new home for the night.

The First Hour: No Fish, But a Lost Bell

I set up all three casting rods with my go-to setup: single hook + earthworm + bell. The river was a bit choppy that night—wind was picking up, so casting was trickier than usual. But I was determined. I sat back, sipped my warm drink, and waited for the first bell to ring.

An hour passed. Nada. Not a single bite. To make matters worse, when I cast one rod too hard, the bell flew off into the river. Great—now one of my rods was bell-less. I’d have to watch its tip like a hawk from now on. Lesson learned: tie those bells on tighter next time!

Twilight Bites: Catfish, Catfish, and More Catfish

As the sun set and darkness fully took over, the action finally started. First, a bell rang—ding-ding-ding! I grabbed the rod, reeled in, and was excited to see… a small catfish (locally called “Hua Shu” catfish). Not my target, but hey—any bite is a good bite. I tossed it into my fish basket; two of these would make a killer soup, I thought.

Then, not 10 minutes later, another rod went off—this time, the bell-less one! I saw the tip bending hard, so I grabbed it and started reeling. This fish was strong—way stronger than the last. When I got it close to the bank and shone my headlamp, my jaw dropped: a 3-pound flathead catfish! I was so excited I almost dropped the rod. But then… disaster. Right as it was about to hit the bank, it slipped off the hook and swam away. Ugh—total heartbreak. I took a minute to pout, then rebaited and cast again. Can’t win ’em all, right?

The Big Win: Unlocking the Huang Gu

Just when I was starting to think I’d never catch my target, a third bell rang—this time, the one with the bell that stayed on! I reeled in slowly, and when I saw the spiny yellow fins break the surface, I cheered out loud. Finally—my first Huang Gu! It wasn’t huge, but it was mine. I’d unlocked the species I came for. I took a million photos (okay, maybe 10) to document the moment.

Buoyed by my success, I kept at it. Ten minutes later, another bell rang—another Huang Gu! This one was bigger, about the size you’d see in markets. I started daydreaming about dinner: would I fry it? Make soup? Maybe grill it with garlic? The possibilities were endless.

But this one was tricky to unhook. Huang Gu have three sharp spines (one on each dorsal fin and one on the chest), so I had to be careful. It took me a few minutes to get the hook out without pricking myself—definitely a skill I need to practice more!

The Uninvited Guests: Snakes Ruin the Party

By now, my fish basket had 3 catfish and 2 Huang Gu. I was on a roll—surely I could catch 5 or 6 Huang Gu before the night was over. But then… chaos. I saw a black-and-white banded snake slither past my fish basket. My heart skipped a beat. Then, a few minutes later, another one crawled out from a crack in the wall behind me. That’s it—I’m out. I’m not messing with snakes, especially at night.

I scrambled to pack up my gear as fast as I could. I dumped the fish basket (sorry, fish—survival first!) and hauled my rods and bag to the car. By the time I got home, my hands were still shaking. Let’s just say I didn’t get that Huang Gu dinner I was dreaming of.

Final Thoughts: A Win (Even Without the Fish)

So, did I bring home any fish? Nope. But did I unlock the Huang Gu? Absolutely. That’s what matters most to me—checking a new species off my list. The snake scare was a bummer, but it’s all part of the fishing adventure, right? Next time, I’ll pick a spot with less snake activity (fingers crossed) and maybe bring a snake repellent just in case. And I’ll definitely tie those bells on tighter.

Have you ever had a fishing trip go sideways because of unexpected guests? Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear your stories!