This story happened on Lake Bolshoy Martyn, on one of the very hot and stuffy days, when the air seemed to thicken, became hot and motionless. And so it lasted for a week, if not more. This ultimately had to lead to something. Such periods of complete calm and heat waves usually end in hurricanes and floods. But that day on the lake everything turned out differently. At least on this lake. And then I heard that a hurricane was cutting down a forest somewhere in the area of the Ilet River and further to the village of Krasnogorsk. But – everything is in order.
In the morning, Pashka and I were catching perches
He dragged the red-finned and thorny “sailors” from the raft, and I fished for perches from the boat nearby. I also needed the boat in order to check the gutters from time to time, set along the edge of the strip of water lilies, which stretched along the very middle of the lake, starting from the ashes of former winter huts and dugouts in a clean open meadow, and ending with a “squiggle” of water lilies to the side the opposite bank, where everything is overgrown with grass. I put the flyers in front of the pine hillock, where Pashka and I set up a camp with a tent.
Despite the heat, pikes were still caught on the girders, but they took them only early in the morning or at night. Therefore, I did not have much sleep. The nights are bright and I sometimes went out on the water and checked the vents. Especially drawn to the water, when you just take a little ustatka by the fire in the cool night and with a fresh ear of perches. And on the lake, the morning fog is already creeping through the calm water. A perch splashes somewhere that has come to the surface to pick up a mayfly. And now a whole flock of perches gurgled somewhere nearby. The quiet voice of the cuckoo is heard in the pine forests. A light streak is already visible in the east. Dawn is coming.
I swim up to the strip of water lilies, along the edge of which you can see the silhouettes of the poles with the flyers hanging on them. No, this one shows that the slingshot hangs obliquely in the direction of the tightly stretched fishing line that goes into the burdock of the water lilies. I take up the line, and the water in the water lilies immediately boils, a pike rises above them, shaking its head and opening its gills. This is how the pike knock out the spoon in their famous candles. But it won’t help her here. She sits on a Finnish hook, from which the pikes do not descend (details on the Finnish hook).
Soon the pike was already on the kukan. And there another one got caught. That’s it … He won’t take any more. The edge of the sun is already shining over the forest. Ahead is a new hot day. I swim to the shore, fan the fire, put the pot on the fire. We must drink some strong tea. Pashka didn’t wake up. Let him sleep. He loves to sleep. All the more so late in the evening they took a little bit of a copy of it. I did not notice how I dozed off by the fire, even after strong tea. There are no mosquitoes, they hid from the heat somewhere. Why not get some sleep?
Woke up when the sun was already high. Pashka also got out of the tent.
– Well, why, Paha, are we going fishing? – I am interested, although I see that he has not yet woken up. Some kind of crumpled.
– Don’t … It’s hot on the water. I’d rather cook potatoes with stew. They ate the ear.
– Okay, come on. And I’m on the water.
I take with me a spinning rod and spoon-spoons “Atom” and copper “Jubilee”. There, under the burdock of water lilies, a pike often stands and there are enough dark shakers even during the day.
I sit in a boat in the very heat. And suddenly I see that over the clearing on the other side the pine trees swayed, as if a terrible force had bent them. On the sides, the pines stood calmly, without moving. Only in a narrow area something strange was happening. Then a blue line lay on the water and quickly walked towards me. I already rowed with oars, like “Whirlwind-30” lifting breakers. But it did not help. The blue stripe is already near. And there for some reason the air in the lungs ran out. I couldn’t breathe. For some reason, vertical waves danced around me, and my boat took off. She pumped, and immediately the boat fell down with a resounding slap across the water with a flat bottom. The blue stripe went towards the north side, and pine trees swayed there too. What was it? Tornado? But there was no pillar going into the sky.
I swam to the shore and asked Pashka, did he see anything? He replied that he did not see, everything was as usual. But at the same time, his eyes were red, like a water rat. And I realized that my friend, preparing potatoes with stew, kissed the bottle. He got drunk, that is, listening to his favorite “Voyage voyage” performed by Claudie Fritsch-Mantro on the receiver. What are tornadoes and hurricanes to him now?
This is how I ascended into the sky on a boat, albeit not high and not for long. But I don’t regret it. In a boat, I’m more used to the water …
Alexander Tokarev and fishx.org
I recommend to read:
Lakes Big and Small Martyn
Legends of Lake Shap … at the bottom with open eyes
Forest lake crocodiles