One fisherman recently wrote: “… The fish began to melt before our eyes. Even in such a great river as the Ob, we will soon rejoice at every gudgeon.”
For the last remaining gudgeon I will tell a story. He died in Ob first. I then lived on the Golden Field. The boys, having finished the first class, went to the Ob with gauze and tulle for fishing. Walked, sometimes, even on foot. On tram tracks from the Michurintsev Garden. We had in cash two kopecks per nose, and the ticket cost like soda with syrup – 3. It was the year 1969, the year of great water. Ob spilled to the very slopes on Gorskaya, flooding a stone foundation pit, that is, the whole flood plain. Water dangerously washed the dam of the Communal Bridge. After this flood, its ends were neatly fortified with stones. When the water rolled down, there were hundreds of puddles overflowing with fry. Mostly white fish. Everything was mixed up: there were lake loaches and the Ob gudgeon. Ob was far away, so we did not repeat the feat of the Blue Patrol. Although they already knew about its existence. There was a lot of fry in the puddles, just crowded. There was hardly enough strength to raise the gauze. They took that bigger and went happy home.
But more often we caught closer – on our right bank, on the beach. Then there were two city beaches. One remained – Left-bank. Right-bank was above the Communal Bridge, on the side where the Ob Hotel is now. Then it was not there, as well as the embankment. Mountains of sand, and between them coves. Here, mostly minnows and perches came across. We put them in a three-liter jar and drove them to our own, small lake. This is a large puddle, between the 4th maternity hospital (there was no maternity hospital then, too) and the fields of the Michurintsev Garden. In the morning we’ll come swimming, minnows stand aground, warm themselves. Even before the army he noticed that you could not see something of a gudgeon in the Ob. He came from the army – went into spinning (1981). And he already lived with a clear conviction that there is no gudgeon in the Ob and cannot be. It was simply not up to him until he heard the phrase: “We will catch minnows only.”
In Ob recently appeared bleak. In the area of Uspenka, and closer – Bibiha. Another Volga fish appeared – Chekhon. Chic fish – saber: brisk, beautiful, up to 1 kg. Caught under ravine shores, with overhanging bushes. Caught on top, but provided that under it 2.5 – 4 meters. In 1978-79, I “choked” her on Klyazma (Vladimir region). Opposite the mouth of the river. Sudogda. If you take root in the Ob, everyone will be happy. The Ob silver carp is still (mostly) crimson – 8-10 kg. Local divers say they observed flocks of 40 each. Well, isn’t it interesting to work out a fishing system? Places, time of year, time of day, bait, feeding method and here they are – 8-10 (or like one woman on the Ina – 19) kg.! So in the future we will catch fish that have taken root among us such as bream, pike perch, bleak, sabrefish, silver carp. But not a gudgeon. He leaves first, but not last. Even in Ina, it became many times less.
I do not want young people to be naive, but know, at least what I know. To begin with, you can hang a poster over the bed: “One flock of perches or seagulls eats more perch during the summer than all the spinningists of the city of Novosibirsk catch in a season.” Waking up – repeat thrice, like a mantra. Then new chakras will open and insight will come.
The negative influence of spinningists, however, does occur. Since the 90th year, inclusive, day after day, from April 20 (earlier, from April 25), with the general closing of fishing for spawning, licensed fishing triumphantly opened at the hydroelectric station site. At that time, fools – 7, 9, 11, 14 kg – came up there, in the literal and figurative sense. Zander females full of caviar. In one such fish, you should not eat small caviar in a week. Nobody lets them go, they are longer than 40 cm. They let go of a trifle, with a proud look, having confused the law with ethics, reproaching and teaching others. Krupnyakov must be released. And carefully.
With respect to all, Sergey Shatalov.
In the photo there is a pontoon bridge to Koroviy Ostrov. Eldorado for spinning, 1982. Photo by the author.