Aug 22, 2019Latest news

New Year's Eve at the Ruza Reservoir

New Year's Eve at the Ruza ReservoirThis year, December 23rd, ice on the Ruze stood only along the bays, and a wave walked in the main water area. By December 30, night frosts nevertheless did their job: the ice became 10 cm thick, although it was noticeably thinner on the ravines. In some places, the ice was breathing, and the water could play in the holes and splash out. On fishing on New Year's Eve, only two of us managed to get out of our entire company – me and Cyril. At 8 a.m. a crowd of fishermen in the Belyanaya Gora area surrounded the ticket issuance center, and those who were late, like us, were already ready to stand in line for an hour or even an hour and a half. On weekdays it was black from cars and people, but the queue was not only calm, but also friendly: the weather and the stories of those overwhelmed yesterday inspired hope for success. Two fishermen shared information with us: they come here for the third day in a row, catch at a depth of 9-11 meters, the scavenger is good, and sometimes it flies under 2 kg. They even explained how to get to their place. That's how it happens!

Then the second seller of permits arrived and began to sell them from the window of his car. We turned out to be third to him and soon held treasured leaflets in our hands. The seller put on the form as many as 4 (!) Seals. I remembered the license for the Kola salmon, which took four times less paper, although it cost 200 rubles – twice as much as the Russian one. It was necessary to determine the place. I wanted to visit familiar points with a shallow depth, which I tuned in for before the trip. Cyril also wound up in new places with great depth, which we were told about in the queue. They went there. We quickly found the indicated exit to the water and looked around: on the shore there were only 4-5 cars, on the ice, far ahead, the silhouettes of a dozen fishermen were darkening, those two in a hurry to them, at whose prompt we were here. Quickly reloading the belongings from the car to the sled, we go after our informants.

When we approached, they were already sitting on their old holes and catching very good scammers. Such an argument forced the exploration by a drill to measure the depths, set flags on their holes and then generously feed the nine holes with a clean feed bloodworm with breadcrumbs. Our fishing started only at 10 in the morning, when it was very light, and we almost missed the first fish exit. In addition, I had to adapt to the depth on the go, which not all of my fishing rods were designed for. No wonder Cyril was once a fisherman-athlete. Everything went well with him: now he has already capitalized one, and the second, and the third. I went from hole to hole with a zero result, until I completed the circle of shame and returned to the initial hole. My partner already had seven pieces, and there was no “lavrushka" among them. He has already figured out that today four large bloodworms work better on mormyshka, and in some moments – the devil.

But then it began to take from me. Take it from the pitch: as soon as the mormyshka, smoothly lowering, touched the bottom – then the nod showed the rise. There was even a period when such a technique managed to catch four scammers in a row. And the weather pleased: the wind noticeably calmed down, the temperature was about zero, through the breaks of the clouds spilled gentle yellowness, which painted the ice in sand color. I already have seven pieces, and Cyril, playing the devil, catches, although less often, but three hundred and four hundred grams. Suddenly, at 13 o’clock the skies turned gray, the gleam of sand disappeared, the nibble from the sluggish became no. We decided to have a bite. They fed the holes a second time and sit-eat-talk. The main theme is fishing for the devil. My personal experience was small and boiled down to the following: about five years ago I very successfully caught a small bream on the devil at Rybinka. The basics of fishing were taught to me by our friend Igor Bykov. Igor was actively interested in fly fishing, and it was interesting for me as a fly fishing man to hear that the game is somewhat reminiscent of the process of playing the cord, when the movement of the rod forward and backward is performed not with the hand, but with the whole hand moving strictly in one plane.

That is, in our case, the game with the devil when rising from the bottom is conducted with a large amplitude due to the movement of the elbow. It was then that I felt an aggressive game with the devil and got well caught on the second day, catching bersh and pike perch under 800. This manner of playing in Kirill caused a sharp denial mainly due to excessive aggressiveness. “The devil, behaving like a witcher on the coven, is unacceptable for Moscow ponds,” he explained to me. – Here you need a sluggish, slow climb. Not a game, but the breath of a nod, with almost no amplitude. ” “In addition,” he continued his teachings, “today there is a large line with a barrel-shaped body, to which the fish are larger. Now I will show you the technique and catch it from the first posting. "

He lowers the snag on 11 meters. He has a fishing rod with a long metal nod, which does not “knock out” the game of the bait. The “aspirated” game began, ending 20 cm from the bottom by delaying a nod that did not work out the expected upward movement. This delay was a sly bream bite. A hook, a fishing rod flies to the right, the left hand picks up the fishing line – the survival begins. It turned out that a good fish sat down, Cyril crawls out of the box and kneels in front of the hole. While he was fighting, I managed to get the device and make a short photo shoot. It turned out to be in the bream in 890. I ran to my holes. This bream was a harbinger of the beginning of the evening bite, and the most interesting was ahead, although the weather began to change before our eyes. The frost intensified, the water in the hole began to be seized by a crust of ice, which had to be fought periodically. Sludge thrown out of the hole was frozen in an increasing wind, the fishing line began to cling, complicating the fishing process.

I had a heavy, but not barrel-shaped trait. I played them in accordance with the instructions received, and soon my dacron nod also showed a delay of 20 cm from the bottom. The reason for the delay was a 400-gram scavenger. While fighting in a neighboring hole with a standing mormyshka, I saw a rise. The fish kept the nozzle until I coped with the first and did the hooking. It was a doublet in both time and weight. Then I no longer have time to catch in two holes: a good fish catches a nearby fishing line and descends near the ice itself. It requires a choice of what to catch: to hell or mormyshka. I bet on a proven mormyshka with a bloodworm, although Cyril still catches the devil. The bloodworm brings a few more pieces, but the nibble subsides noticeably, there are more and more pauses between bites.

It is already getting very evening, I sit down wearily on a box in the hope of catching something in the end. Mormyshka drops 11 meters for a long time, I find the bottom and begin to sluggishly carry the bait on the ground. There are no bites. I start the same sluggish climb with the aspirated game. Somewhere a few centimeters from the bottom, I finally see a nod delay – I hook and first I don’t feel anything like that. Apparently, just a good fish for a few hundred grams, no more. A little later I understand that the fish is very decent, but from 11 meters it goes calmly, without jerking to the sides, impressive. I lose the pace of survival, get up in front of the hole on my knees.

Only when I saw a dark yellow shovel of a bream lying on clear ice under the clear ice did I feel the whole drama of the situation. I have no practice of catching large fish from a hole; I also have no hook, however, as well as experience with it. There is a confusion in my head. I would have to call Cyril, but I really want to do everything myself, and there is an incomprehensible confidence in my soul that I will take this fish! In the right hand is the fishing line, I hold it with my fingertips, while pulling it lightly let go – and the fish solidly falls off. At this point, the fingertips work like a friction clutch, holding back the fugitive. Again I bring it up, and the fish again lays sideways at the hole to immediately get on the keel and again go to the side.

This was repeated five times, no less. Launched in the hole, the left hand gropes only for a slippery nose and slammed gills. There is simply nothing to hold on to. You can’t even put your finger in the mouth of a bream to bring it under the gill. I'm trying to get the face of a bream into the hole and let it swallow air. Sometimes it turns out, the fish weakens. At some point he managed to hold the fish nose in the hole longer than usual, the weakened fish really took a breath of air and opened its gills. Then I grabbed it under the gills first with my left, and then, dropping the line, with my right hand. Passes into a 150mm hole? Gently, a little sleigh, he pulled a "shovel" onto the ice. If not for thin ice, such a trick would not have passed. On an electronic balance Cyril bream pulled 1 kg 670 g! When will it happen to catch something similar right before the New Year ?!

author Andrey SIDOROV

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