I shake a small perch off the hook – and again. For twenty minutes of fishing, having changed a couple of places, I still pulled out two pikes up to 1.5 kg and a small perch of a modest size. I’m leaving for the Volga. At the zander points, recorded in the memory of the GPS, there are only a few small fanged and a couple of bersh, all for jigging. On the fourth night, the temperature drops below zero, the wind rises and heavy snow begins. By morning, the snow piled up about five or seven centimeters, and the wind intensified. In such weather, it’s time to walk along the bays in search of pike and perch. On the Ob, equipped with a Honda, I somehow got over to the other side of the Enotaevka. Catching on the riverbed is unrealistic: almost meter-long waves with lambs. I’m going around the bend. There are small ripples here, and only the swaying tops of trees on the high banks remind of the clearing elements.
Slowly making my way into the bay. At the entrance, the depth barely reaches 40 cm. The current is almost not felt, but the algae are directed strictly in one direction, which means it pulls. There are a lot of fry, sometimes flocks of medium-sized perches slip by. The bottom is covered with shells so densely that it is impossible to find a clean place. Two hundred meters later I see the first pike: it darts off and runs aground. It is not difficult to trace where she stood: her throw was indicated by fry splashing into the loose leaves and splashes of larger fish. The depth increases slightly, and the fry becomes so much that in some places the bottom is practically invisible. Silhouettes of large perches and quite good pikes appear.
I turn off the engine and take the spinning rod. On the right, there is a vast shallow water with a depth of 30-40 centimeters, on the left it is deeper, one and a half or two meters, with grass rising almost to the surface, among which one can hear the smacking of a fatting perch. Thinking that the pike is not going anywhere, I start with the perches. Although they are active, they are in no hurry to take the turntable. I put a wobbler – a completely different matter. If the grass does not cling, then there are always jabs and light blows. When I increase the pause in the posting to three or four seconds, the wobbler starts to bring fish almost on every cast. The water is clear, and I can see the perch accompanying the bait in a crowd. At each stop, one of them touches the wobbler and if it does not cling, then at the next pull it is done by his fellow. If you are not in a hurry to play, greedy perches try to snatch their prey and cling in pairs.
I decide to test different wobblers. It turns out that the perch is not so unintelligible. Most of the lures, which he caught perfectly in the Moscow region, are out of work here. At the same time, a 10-centimeter wobbler yields larger perches than its 6-7-centimeter analogue. Coloring does not play a special role: everything works – from black to chartreuse. Perch are generally no more than 400 g, a couple of fish per half a kilo remains in the boat’s tank. On the right, a pike often hits the ground. Shallow floating minnow brings a bite in the very first meters of the wiring. The pike is mainly in the rare coastal mud and sometimes attacks from ten meters. Here acid picks and white wobblers work clearly better than models of natural colors. I tried oscillators – they work, and not bad. The lightweight Canadian Williams, salmon colored, collected pikes from a greater distance than any wobbler, and the size of the fish increased dramatically. The largest one turned out to be a little over four kilograms.
If the perch stayed practically throughout the entire bay, only its concentration and size changed, then there were a lot of pike only on the rocks. If the depth exceeded a meter, the pike already took something that was not at every cast – at the tenth or even at the fifteenth. Interestingly, the next day in the same place, we did not catch anything decent, except for a kilogram perch. The day was sunny, and the pike did not react at all to the bait. And I never saw the big asp. Only once on the Volga itself I noticed a couple of seagulls, which from time to time dived to the surface. Having melted to this place, I took out one asp under a couple of kilograms, after which this mini-boiler instantly disintegrated. When we left, the water temperature dropped by a couple of degrees. Our friends stayed to wait for the massive zhora zander. After all, it must start sometime!
author Alexander FROLOV