Good Luck In The Wrong Hands

2024 Author: Sebastian Paterson | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 13:47

Fishing tales

Last summer, my friend Igor spent his vacation on a fishing trip in the small Karelian town of Lakhdenpohja. And now, in the midst of winter, the owner of the house where he lodged called him and told him that in the surrounding bays, as he put it: darkness is a dark bream and, they say, local fishermen catch it almost with sacks. Without thinking twice, Igor and I went for the weekend to this still verbal Eldorado for bream. True, without bags.

From a conversation with the hospitable host of the house, it became clear that he had never met any of those who “almost caught bream with sacks”, and knew about it only from the words of others. But this, in fact, a bleak message was, as they say, still flowers, berries were ahead, when at night Igor had a toothache. It is clear that he is no longer up to fishing. Having washed up until the morning, he decided to leave immediately. Out of solidarity, I also intended to leave with him, but together with the owner, he persuaded me to stay and catch, as Igor put it: "Not less than a bag of fish."

In the early frosty morning, the owner took me to one of the bays near the city, where about three dozen fishermen settled. With the arrival of the morning train, the number of fishing crews increased markedly. Since I did not know either the reservoir or what to fish for, I began to observe the fishermen to determine the luckiest one among them. Gradually moving from one to the other, I was surprised to find that no one had more than a dozen small bastards. There were no breams at all!

Of all the assembled fishermen, I was especially interested in an elderly man in a canvas jacket, who was sitting slightly apart from the others. Before my eyes, he pulled out a pretty decent fish with a jig, but he put it in a box so quickly that I didn't even really have time to make out it. It looks like it was a bastard. He soon caught another fish. But near the hole, in a conspicuous place, lay a tiny, frozen brush - a clear confirmation that, they say, there is no bite.

Interested, I walked closer and said hello. However, the man did not react to my greeting.

- I am here for the first time and I want to consult: what bait to use for fishing: a spinner, a wobbler or a jig, - I began hesitantly, somewhat discouraged by such an unfriendly reception.

Without looking at me, he muttered:

- Catch what you want …

I was about to leave, when suddenly the man pulled out their perch holes and, pleased either with himself, or with the perch, said:

- Now you can smoke.

Thinking it was a hint, I obligingly handed him a pack of cigarettes. However, not paying attention to my gesture, he took out a pack of Belomor from his jacket pocket, lit a cigarette and after a long pause issued:

- All sorts of wandering around here … - and, after a pause, with undisguised annoyance, continued: - the other day a kind of fisherman comes up to me - a poor fellow: he has not a single fish for the whole day. Father, he says, will you allow one of your rods to be caught? Maybe you're lucky? Why not allow it? Go ahead, I say, tea will not lose its place. It's still better, I think, than he will settle under my nose and scare away all the fish. Moreover, the fisherwoman is, in appearance, completely useless.

Throwing away the butt, he shook his head in sorrow and, probably, dumped out everything that boiled in his soul:

- And it must be the same - not even five minutes have passed since he picked up a bream per kilogram with a hook! I, as you can see, interrupt with undersized, and this idiot is just such a fish. And even on my fishing rod and in my hole. This is how I, one might say, gave good luck to a random person with my own hands.

All this was expressed with such bitterness that I even felt somehow uneasy: as if it was my fault that he was so unlucky. Obviously annoyed, he was about to say something else, but I hurriedly wished him luck and immediately withdrew. After such a meeting, I completely lost the desire to fish, and the notorious sack remained empty …