Rainy Day Fishing: Chasing Small Crucian Carp When It’s Freezing Cold

Let me tell you, there’s nothing worse than being cooped up for weeks and finally getting a day off—only to wake up to gray skies and drizzle that feels like it’s seeping into your bones. That’s exactly what happened to me last week, and I swear, I almost threw in the towel before lacing up my boots. But hey, a fisherman’s gotta fish, right? Even if it means looking like a total fool standing in the rain with a rod in hand. Let’s dive into this chaotic, cold, and surprisingly rewarding rainy day fishing trip.

My Pre-Trip Struggles (AKA Why I Was This Close to Skipping It)

First off, let’s set the scene: I’d been stuck at home for a solid week with a mild case of… well, let’s just say the thing that makes you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. By day three, my fever broke, but I played it safe and stayed home to avoid spreading germs. When I finally tested negative and went back to work, I had to play catch-up for days—meaning zero time for my favorite hobby: fishing. So when my day off rolled around, I was pumped… until I glanced out the window.

Rain. Just… nonstop rain. The kind that makes your windshield wipers work overtime and makes you question why you ever thought leaving the house was a good idea. To make it worse, the weather app said it was 45°F (that’s 7°C for my metric friends) with a wind chill that made it feel like 38°F (3°C). I groaned. But then I remembered: I hadn’t held my fishing rod in weeks. Weeks! So I did what any slightly obsessed angler would do: I grabbed my gear and headed out—after a very hearty lunch, of course. Gotta fuel up for the cold!

Gear Check: Throwing Caution to the Wind (Literally)

Normally, I’m a stickler for my trusty old Yiwei setup—solid, reliable, the kind of gear that feels like an extension of your hand. But today? Today was a “wing it” kind of day. Here’s what I grabbed:

• Rod: Canglongli 4.5m (a random brand I won in a giveaway—never used it before!)
• Line Setup: 0.8 main line + 0.4 leader with a Size 3 hook (perfect for small crucian carp)
• Bait: Wuliangyou 1, 2, 3 (my go-to old recipe—no time to experiment!)
• Umbrella: Another giveaway prize—tiny, so it barely covered me. Oops.
• Rod Holder: Also a giveaway find. Let’s just say it wasn’t the sturdiest.

Oh, and I almost forgot: my Canglongli rod was missing its front and back caps. Great. But hey, beggars can’t be choosers, right? I also prepped some red worm pellets soaked in hot water and mixed with rice wine—perfect for luring those cold-water crucian carp. The spot I chose was a local pond with water around 8 feet deep (2.5 meters) and a slight current. I set up a 1.7g float, adjusted it to “adjust four, catch three or four” (a common Chinese fishing technique, but let’s just say it’s about balancing the float so you can detect light bites).

The First Hour: Drizzle, Cold, and a Ton of Minnows

Let’s be real: the first hour was brutal. The rain was light but constant, and it didn’t take long for my jacket to start feeling damp. My hands were so cold I could barely tie knots, and I kept rubbing them together like a cartoon character trying to start a fire. But then—wait! I saw a tiny movement on my float. A half-inch top, then a little dip. That’s the classic crucian carp bite… right? I lifted the rod, and sure enough, I had a fish. But not the crucian I was hoping for. It was a tiny minnow. Ugh.

I rebaited, cast again, and waited. And waited. And waited. The minnow kept coming back—every single time I got a bite, it was that tiny, annoying fish. I started muttering to myself: “Come on, big guys. Where are you?” The cold was starting to get to me; my nose was running, and I had to keep wiping it on my sleeve (gross, I know, but when you’re freezing, manners go out the window). I glanced over at the guy next to me—he was using a long rod with a short line, the kind you use for close-quarters fishing. He hadn’t caught anything either. Great, so it’s not just me.

The Breakthrough: Finally, a Crucian Carp!

After what felt like an eternity (okay, it was an hour and a half), I was this close to packing up. My legs were stiff, my back hurt, and I was pretty sure my toes were frozen solid. But then—something different. The float didn’t just dip; it gave a tiny, almost unnoticeable twitch. I hesitated, then lifted the rod. Oh! There was weight. Real weight. Not a minnow. I reeled it in slowly, careful not to break the light line. And there it was: a beautiful crucian carp, probably around 6 inches long (15 cm). Not huge, but for a cold rainy day? It was a trophy.

I whooped out loud—probably scaring all the fish in the pond, but I didn’t care. That one catch made all the cold worth it. I took a quick photo (my hands were so shaky I almost dropped the phone) and carefully released it back into the water. Wait, no—wait, I kept it? Wait, no, let me check the photos again. Oh, right, I think I kept it? Wait, no, the original story says I had two fish. Let me get back on track.

The Second Catch (and the End of My Patience)

After that first crucian, I was suddenly wide awake. The cold didn’t feel quite so bad, and I was actually excited to keep fishing. I rebaited, cast again, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Another hour went by, and nothing. The rain was picking up, and my umbrella was starting to leak. I could feel water dripping down my neck, and my nose was running so much I had to use a tissue (thank goodness I remembered to bring some). The guy next to me packed up and left—smart man.

Just when I was about to give up, I saw it: another tiny twitch on the float. I lifted the rod, and again—weight! This one was even bigger than the first. I reeled it in carefully, and there it was: a nice crucian carp, probably 7 inches (18 cm). Yes! I was on fire. Well, not literally, but metaphorically. I took a photo of this one too, grinning like an idiot even though my teeth were chattering.

Time to Call It Quits: Cold, Tired, but Happy

By 3 PM, I’d had enough. My hands were numb, my legs were so stiff I could barely stand up, and I was pretty sure I was coming down with a cold (ironic, right? After staying home for a week to avoid germs). I packed up my gear—making sure to grab all my rods and the leaky umbrella—and headed to my car. I looked back at the pond one last time, smiling at the two crucian carp I’d caught. They were small, but they were mine. And that’s all that matters.

When I got home, I dumped my wet gear on the porch, stripped off my damp clothes, and jumped into a hot shower. It felt like heaven. After that, I made a cup of hot cocoa and sat on the couch, scrolling through the photos of my trip. Yeah, it was cold. Yeah, it was rainy. Yeah, I only caught two fish. But you know what? It was perfect. Because I was fishing. And that’s all any angler can ask for.

Final Thoughts: Is Rainy Day Fishing Worth It?

Let’s be honest: rainy day fishing isn’t for everyone. It’s cold, it’s wet, and more often than not, you’ll catch more minnows than actual fish. But for me? It’s worth it. Because there’s something magical about being out in the quiet, listening to the rain hit the water, and waiting for that perfect bite. And when you finally catch that fish? It’s like all the cold and discomfort disappears. You’re just you, the water, and the fish. And that’s the best feeling in the world.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. But next time, I’m bringing a better umbrella. And maybe some hand warmers. And definitely a bigger jacket. But hey, that’s part of the fun—learning from your mistakes and coming back stronger. So if you’re thinking about going fishing on a rainy day? Go for it. Just make sure you dress warm. And don’t forget the cocoa.