Second – class carriage- like theatre where you and the spectator, and actor. And not necessarily that the play is like. Rather, the theater of the absurd.
Climb on the top shelf – it’s time to sleep. But sleep does not. Train vraskachku taps rails, the window pitch black. Only glimpses of snow-covered trees and bushes. Hot in the heated car all gradually abates, and some passengers have about snoring. Now also fall asleep, tomorrow I will have lunch have dinner and the next morning I’m on the Akhtuba. I wonder what this time will be caught? If, for example, perch is a lot, then I, of course, nothing got greedy and bought at the Bird market of frozen sprat.
But if the white will go fish: bream or roach, then I’m on a roll – specifically maggots select more took. However, I can still cost it out of the package in a box to pour? No, it’s fine. Package I made a triple. Nothing ever happens to them.
– Young man, You have some white worm fell from above, through dreams I heard the voice of a young girl. Jumped up in horror to see what was on the third shelf. Triple plastic bag full of maggots, stood in the far corner. From the heat of the larvae literally “boiled”, turned the package into a sieve and now the waves spread in all directions. Second, the “white worm” fell on my bed, then a third… And on approach, ready for landing a regiment. Damn! Grabbed the first available under the hand pack and began to shovel handfuls of maggots. The package is complete! Where is it? In the car to leave in any case impossible. Rushed out into the vestibule between the cars and thrown on the rails. Let them cool down. Immediately rushed back…
The war with the bait in the complete destruction did not last long. Half an hour later I caught the last escapees. Well here is the last one. No, here’s another… and another. Now all. Waited five minutes, went over things is all for now. Our won. You can calm down. The girl, raised the alarm in time, tactfully pretends not realize the reasons for my sudden rush. Thank you for that, but it would have detrained at all. But now what to fish for? Lazy, not poured the maggots in a plastic box reliable – and how now to be?! Oh, and give me now the face that lazy jerk! Yes it is too late.
Long lay awake, spun from side to side and upset about his loss. In some coupe endlessly and monotonously mumbled the drunken calmac like on the radio. God, when is he gonna stop and give sleep?..
Selitrennoe to the station the train arrived very early in the morning. From the car came a dozen men in similar winter outfits with ledoburami and drawers, sat on met cars and departed. Left empty snow-covered platform, lit a couple of lanterns and a starry, frosty sky. Empty and uncomfortable. But here’s my car. And an hour later I was settled in the house, which will be returning next week, tired but happy, taking from his shoulder a stuffed fish box.
After Breakfast went for a walk. The day the sky cleared up. The sun rose high in the frozen blue sky. After a dismal Moscow drifts eyes resting on the bright colors of the southern steppe. The pure white snow sparkles and squeaks underfoot. Steep river shore cast a deep, almost black shade. Despite the cold, breathe easy, and only the tip of the nose tingling. And there, on the familiar pit and fisherwomen skuchkovalis. Not to say that the fishing was active only occasionally someone would wave a fishing rod, trying to reel in the fish.
– Good afternoon, guys. God help you. How pecks?
It would be possible and not to ask. Fishermen like to complain.
– Yes in any way. Do not bite. Left the fish whole to the remote cordon.
– Is it all gone? Not caught anything?
– Why – does – this question is a little bit hurt fisherman – I have a bit of Berchem. Serge, there he was out there fishing too I caught the morning a little…
Word for word, a conversation.
– Here the day before were eating well. It is my great pleasure to catch. Full box brought in the evening. Berchem of about twenty. Pike-perch one on dushnik took. However, there was another one! Ten minutes to the hole let him down. As a submarine haul – rested and what I want, I do. The men gathered around, each advises. Directly the country of the Soviets. Eventually got it in the hole. There the fuck is the toothy – fist in mouth get through.
And how much is drawn?
– Well, who knows. Head in the hole stuck. To push I couldn’t.
Here Oleg and sharply hooked, quickly intercepting the fishing line, thrown out on the ice bersha. So be it – no slack. Admired, pulled to the side to the other and continued, slowly working the balancer.
– Well, where was I? Oh Yes! In General, while I tried the hole to expand, Zander was tired of it, he exploded and left. So that’s – I don’t know how much it weighs. He pretends to be!
– Oleg, and bersha only a balance beam catch?
– No, different. Who balanceit, and who blesnet with a planting of cutting.
And who has more?
– Volodya, for sure. See, he’s on the sidelines catches. If you want, go have a look.
Volodya we met last season, but then I had little interest in his success – not bragging, so nothing special. Goes in vain. As they say: still waters run deep…
– Volodya, hi.
– And, Hey, you came too?!
– As you can see. Oleg said, what are you all fishing? To catch that?
– Here, look – on-a-string were tied Cheburashka grams for 15-20 with the double, on the double tail of some fish – sinker is selected so that to feel the bottom on the down, and hoisted the “cutting” of frozen sprat. On the Bird I bought. The trout bite better than the local fish. And wiring – here it is: planted and released. Then another and another… After each toss the tackle blows over from the hole. I go 10-15 meters. And be sure to make each toss sweeps, because, when the load-head will take from the hole, the bite will not notice. Bersh just hangs on the hook and some time relishing the whitebait. If you pull, it releases the bait and if you strike, then…
Then Volodya after the next sweeps rapidly pulled from the water twenty meters of black twine and threw it on the ice next bersha.
– …I see myself, – Volodya smiled contentedly. And, get this: all catch the maximum of 11-12 metres, deeper in the fast current of the rocker bottom will not feel. And I’m 15 metres fishing. And bersha here anymore. Although, to be honest, I came white bream fishing. To me it is more to your liking. Look, my tent is. I was there to stuff the place. When all the bite to the evening is over, I have a fishing trip soon.
All that said Volodya, could be seen as the bare theory, but he caught more than twenty fish when others had at most a dozen.
However, enough of the theory, it’s time to fish. Unwound blasnik, pinned rafalowski balancer “seven” and in about fifteen minutes on the ice, danced the first bersh, then another… In General, the process has begun. Imperceptibly the sun past noon, the bite noticeably sleeping and people with a grunt and began to straighten his stiff back.
– Shall we go?..
– Yes, perhaps you’re already. The bite ended and two will not. It is possible to eat. Get.
Boxes turned into dining tables with sliced bread, homemade bacon, hard boiled eggs, something else. The frozen vodka was flowing viscous like jelly.
– Well, that is not the last trip!
The following days fished in different ways: bad, and very bad. Was “Zander” the days when the base nobody came back without a pair of three perch, not counting the Berchem. Was a fat, shimmering matte silver bream. There were days when the perch was caught literally bags
