Cool North wind whistling in the wires, violently shakes the trees in the garden, driving across the sky-gray, leaden clouds, from which falling snow flakes, falling sleet. In short, the weather, as the proverb says, when “the owner of the dog in the yard will not release”.
However, we followed another sayings: “happiness Naomie — cold and stormy weather.” The reader will understand that our company: Oleg, Alexander Rykov and I are going to hunt for burbot. “Just think, intended to catch burbot, — decides, that is easier to fish it: this predator is omnivorous and takes on anything.” And in proof of this assertion Rykov, demonstrating awareness, gave an example from the book in which the author categorically stated: “the Nozzle at any time — the bird the giblets, live, stale, tainted fish, especially the ruff and gudgeon, worms, frogs”.
In response, we with Oleg smiled skeptically: sustainable practice clearly proved that burbot can take live fish, worm, frog, but to eat “bird’s guts” and “old, fishy, fish” is unlikely. Fishing is another persistent myth. Of course, fishing anything can happen: too hungry burbot can covet and junk food. However, if you have a choice, the predator always prefers fresh prey.
Therefore, we prepared two types: manure worms and small crucians. Prepared fifty leashes with hooks. We learned long ago that when fishing with a float or bottom fishing, this fish is so deeply swallows the baited hook that it’s often easier to cut the leash and snap a new one than to suffer, pulling the trigger and the jaws of a predator.
…Went fishing before dark. When we got to the place was pitch dark. And although each of us had a lantern and started a fire. And not because in many fishing publications it is claimed that the burbot, as a magnet attracts to the fire. Just fire at least once animates circular darkness.
Close to midnight, it became much colder, and the snow started falling. However, despite these weather woes, we began to fish. Every angler surely had an exciting sense of anticipation of the first bite. We did almost this feeling did not have to wait.
I’ll start with myself… Barely a hook with carp gurgled in the water, followed by a bite, or rather potica, I was instantly hooked, and after a few moments of gold about burbot was in my hands. My friends had the same thing. The burbot (all small!) took almost relentlessly.
The impression was that the fish, as in the well known advertising, only waiting for us. When fishing for other fish, especially peaceful, we are such a small fry would let go. However, the mini-Nalimov so deeply swallowed the bait that I had to pull it together with the giblets.
To avoid this, I resorted to cunning. Throwing a jig, and, without waiting for the bite, he immediately pulled her from the water. But despite my tricks, I get two outcomes: either burbot did not have time to take the bait and cast was empty, or firmly grasped her. And still took solely a trifle. I tried to get rid of the bites of the small fry, putting larger hooks. Alas, the bite stopped!
Involuntarily the question arose: where are the burbot bigger? Why don’t they take? Or we stumbled upon a kind of Naomi kindergarten? The answer, of course, was not. And not once lamenting about such small trophies. And we would not lament, but to rejoice it was necessary that active biting fish. Because at about midnight, when the moon came out from behind the battlements of the forest and lit up everything around lifeless dull light, the biting quickly stopped. And we, without losing takes another half hour, unanimously decided to finish fishing.
In the darkness, in snowy muslin, somehow collected the trophy kalinchikov and trudged back. On the road, wet and chilled, I (probably like my friends) had mixed feelings. Satisfaction from great fishing and dissatisfaction of the catch: in fact, only the small fry.
After this memorable fishing, we had a long fun of each other, saying, not to go off for burbot!? And each, remembering that unforgettable fishing, involuntarily shivered and was sure to say: “B-R-R-R!”. So striking was the January trip for burbot.
