"Neither tail nor scales." We went winter fishing and learned the intricacies of ice fishing.

Snow crunches underfoot, a freezing wind, and dozens of black dots scattered across the white surface of a frozen body of water. These are the daredevils who have decided to venture out onto the ice in search of their next trophy. Our correspondent visited Lake Naroch and the Vileyka Reservoir, learning all the intricacies of winter fishing. Secrets of the Under-Ice World. My expedition to fishing spots begins near the village of Cherevki in the Myadel District. Despite the prolonged frost, I step onto the ice on the northwestern shore of Lake Naroch with some trepidation. Fresh boot and sled tracks left by fishermen give me confidence. After walking about a kilometer and a half through the crunchy snow, I approach one of them. An elderly man sits on a box above the ice hole, watching the slightest movement of the fishing rod in his hands. Nearby is a sled with fishing gear and a bucket from which I can hear the splash of fish.

"I'm catching pike with live bait," says Sergey Lyakh. " The fish have gone deeper now. I'm lowering the line about eight meters, so it's about twenty centimeters below the bottom. The perch are biting so far, but what will happen in the evening remains to be seen. And where there's a 'sailor', a big one is sure to come. The depth

beneath my feet, as deep as a three-story building, makes me feel a bit uneasy. However, Sergey Mikhailovich reassures me: the ice is thick enough – 25-30 cm. The thin tip of the rod begins to twitch and bend. The fisherman tosses the tackle aside and begins to deftly fiddle with the line. A few seconds later, a small perch emerges from the hole . The catch is released from the hook and placed in a bucket.

From the inside pocket of his thick army pea coat, the fisherman takes out a small box. Inside, small red worms – bloodworms – wriggle. Sergey Lyakh threads several of them onto a single hook, gently lowers them into the hole, and picks up the fishing rod, constantly twitching it to attract the attention of the underwater inhabitants.

"In winter, you can catch perch with bloodworms, spoons, and balance baits. Where the others are," Sergey Mikhailovich points toward his fellow fishermen, who are so far away that they are barely visible in the reflection of the snow, looking like black dots, "in deep holes 25 meters deep, you can catch pink salmon weighing half a kilo, or even one and a half. But the weather doesn't allow it."

Among the fishing gear in the sled, I notice a rod with a reel and a flag. I wonder what kind of device it is?

"It's a pike bet. When it bites, the flag will start to 'light up,'" Sergey Lyakh replies, and, noticing my confusion, takes a tip-up, a drill, and a bucket of perch from the sled to demonstrate the device in action.
We choose a spot for the hole at random. A couple of turns, and it's ready. We use something like a ladle to scoop out the ice shards from the hole. Then we lower the fishing line with the hook to measure the depth.

"For zander, you need to set the hook 20-30 cm below the bottom. For pike, you need to set it higher, about half a meter," the fisherman advises. "It's best to use live bait caught locally. I once tried fishing for crucian carp with purchased fish—never a single bite."

After setting the desired depth, we take out the hook, hook a perch, and lower it into the hole, over which we set the tip-up. We tuck the flag under the reel. When the pike takes the bait and pulls the line, it pops up and stands upright. To make the hook visible from afar, we use bright fabric. That's what it means to "start burning." The key here is to run up and hook the predator quickly, ensuring the hook catches it firmly.

For my interviewee, winter fishing is more about relaxation than hunting for a catch. Nevertheless, judging by the stories, the trophy collection is impressive. A year ago, I landed a 9-kilogram pike; sometimes I catch specimens weighing 7 kilos, and last weekend, the catch weighed in at 5 kilos.

“My wife is fine with the hobby. Go fishing, please. As long as he doesn’t drink or go out. I usually clean the catch myself, sometimes one of my sons helps; he’s also a fisherman. We’re also getting my grandson involved. Next weekend, the three of us are going to set tip-ups. Maybe he’ll get lucky and get a ‘shchupaka,’” Sergey Lyakh smiles.

Shivering with cold, I ask my interlocutor how he keeps warm in such cold weather.

“Ordinary quilted jackets, warm boots, and a raincoat to keep the wind out. And the idea that alcohol warms you up while fishing—that’s only an illusion, really—it doesn’t.” "So I don't drink and just fish for fun," notes Sergey Lyakh. "Nothing stronger than tea." Next, I head to the Vileyka Reservoir for some fishing wisdom. There are more enthusiasts here than on Naroch, willing to sit by the ice hole with a fishing rod in the freezing cold. Some even pitch tents. However, I don't dare travel three kilometers from the shore to them—it's too cold. Instead, I meet Igor Korsakov, who has set up a small camp near the shore of the village of Sosenka. Several small frozen perch are lying near the ice hole.

"The fish are biting, but the weather isn't always favorable: the pressure is high, and there are severe frosts in the mornings," says Igor Ivanovich. "You can sit by the ice hole all day and not get a single bite. Sometimes you drill ten holes and only get one or two that work. The school has apparently moved away now; when it comes back, there will be a bite."
An experienced fisherman explains his choice of shoreline location this way: when the pressure is high, the predators move to shallower depths. So, in the morning, he set several tip-ups, setting the depth to three to five meters. So far, none of them have worked. However, this season, Igor Ivanovich has already caught eight pike weighing 2-2.5 kg.

"Those who want to catch a decent fish go where the water is deep. Bream and roach are good there, taking as little as seven meters. And I'm quite good at catching little ones here. Some will take live bait, I'll release the rest, and I'll even bring some for the cat," my companion smiles.

Noticing that I'm starting to shiver from the cold, he offers me some tea from a thermos. At -12°C on the Vileyka Reservoir, a sweet, hot drink is just what I need.

"There are fishermen who warm up with alcohol, and then sleep on the ice and freeze everything they can. I don't support that kind of recreation. Tea—it's really a must. Plus a fishing suit with padding and a couple of sweaters—and you're warm. It's also important to have good footwear and warm hands," Igor Korsakov asserts.

Having finished my tea, I thank the fisherman for the treat, shake his hand goodbye, and wish him good riddance. The traditional response is "to hell with it!" Safe Fishing: As OSVOD noted, it's winter fishing enthusiasts who most often find themselves at risk during the cold season. Despite the apparent strength of the ice, going out onto the water without following basic rules often leads to disastrous consequences.

Ice thickness of at least 7 cm is considered safe. Anglers should be especially careful in river mouths, areas with currents, and areas with springs and aquatic vegetation. Gray, white, and yellowish ice are dangerous. Its strength significantly decreases over several days at above-zero temperatures. Drilling holes less than one meter apart is also prohibited.

Anglers are advised to wear life jackets that fit properly and carry ice picks and a lifeline. It's best to avoid going out onto the ice at night or in poor visibility.

According to anglers, a trophy fish weighing up to 10 kg can easily be caught from a 13 cm diameter hole. To prevent the fish from getting away, some use a special tackle—a gaff—that hooks the underwater creature by its gills.

| Vadim Kondratyuk, 7 Dney newspaper. Photo by Igor Krivosheev.

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