How rivers and crayfish die

… crayfish and huge schools of perches and other fish began to crawl under the shore onto a clay bank, which suddenly appeared in shallow water too …

I decided to meet the morning closer to the pontoon bridge, where the reservoir narrows and returns to the river bed. There I met a fisherman with one swing seven-meter rod.

It turned out that the day before he had caught here several scoundrels and three kilo carp. This was encouraging. But I spent the morning without a bite. However, that fisherman was also nearby with his lucky swing rod. But he didn’t see a bite either. It should be clarified here that these events took place after the next shower, only this time unusually long and strong.

In the morning it seemed strange to me that crayfish began to crawl under the shore onto a clay bank. This, of course, spoke of clean water, where these arthropods usually live, but why do they so carelessly expose their sides to beer lovers with crayfish in broad daylight? Here at least collect crayfish with nets and hands …

In addition, huge schools of perches and other fish, which suddenly appeared in shallow water, also attracted attention. The larger ones stood at the bottom, while the smaller ones poked their greedy mouths out of the water and hurriedly grabbed the atmospheric air. There was clearly something wrong here. Complete bitelessness and these obviously choking fish …

Already at home I learned from media sources that fish are dying on the city river

The reason was the high water, in which there is a lot of rotting grass and some kind of rubbish floating on top. (There were rumors that a car with ammonia tipped over into the water). The rains this year have brought many troubles. Of course, one cannot compare the troubles of fishermen with the troubles of people whose houses, cars, vegetable gardens, pastures were flooded by the elements, but it is also hard on the soul because the life of the river will not soon enter into a normal rhythm, if he can recover at all.

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All that remained was to wait for the weather by the sea …

But, as is the case with fishermen, there is no longer patience without fishing. In the morning I decided to check my sandy coast, which is located up the river. Of course, he had no special illusions. The same river, the same closely linked into one whole ecosystem. The only difference is that the river in my favorite place near the sandy coast is squeezed by the banks and it runs among them, wooded, with a cheerful ringing and a fast current on the rifts.

In the morning I wander along damp paths under the crowns of oaks and lindens. Drops fall from the bushes like rain, dewy grasses soaked me through. The trail is overgrown with raspberries and nettles. Despite the proximity of the city, the place is surprisingly deserted and deaf. Apparently, due to the lack of access to it by cars.

Having got to the place, I see that my coast was not spared by the large water, which closed it down to the bushes. There is still a place for casting a couple of rods, no more. You can’t catch up with a partner.

How rivers and crayfish die

I installed a homemade feeder on a stand, but did not start throwing. I decided to catch on “firm” – my universal. In the evening I put on a green quivertip, flexible as a nod. Just for roach and other trifles. At least to catch it, to quench the fishing passion and green longing during the Russian unprecedented tropical rains.

As you might expect, there was no bite

I was not even surprised or upset, because I was ready for this. Well, I was almost not upset … I remember that something grumbled and growled through clenched teeth and rotating nodules on the cheeks, but only the river heard it … Meanwhile, an extreme nozzle of worms with maggots followed and an extreme cast was made, now upstream, where usually the feeder did not throw. And he began to get ready for home.

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But suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see the tip of my feeder nodding, and then the cord dropped sharply, having lost the stretch. I hook up and play out the bastard.

And immediately the sun peeped out from somewhere, music began to play in my soul. How much do we need? Soon the same sharp bite followed, and another bastard was caught. Then I took a solid roach, one of those that recently, even before the rains, came across to me on Bonduelle corn, and they were large, like the Volga. But this soroga, of course, is smaller. Maybe due to the fact that the corn completely sour in anticipation of fishing, and today I caught a worm with maggot?

And when the morning had already flared up in full force, the biting became even more frequent, but some hectic fish grabbed, which only plucked the worm. Soon the culprit of these reckless bites was caught. It was a dace. In a word, I did not stay empty this morning on my sandy shore. The river did not disappoint …

Alexander Tokarev and fishx.org

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