A remake of an old man

A remake of an old man

Photo Anatoly Mailkova

Petrovich, nicknamed «Academician»Methodically waving udilnikom over the hole. But probably not for methodical he was called Academician among fishermen.

Dark dank, but rather warm day, which is unusual for January, these areas are not uplifting. Cleves was not in the morning, like all the preceding days. Before this happened, and whining fishermen in this regard Petrovich replied that gluhozimya not happen.

Petrovich Andreev old friend was sitting next to on the ice and, as usual, tried different gear and attachments.

— Kotov, enough to sit, fish must be sought, — he blurted out suddenly.
— Nikolai Alex — Petrovich replied, — Sit down, you see circle wasted running around.
We passed by the fishermen, who knew almost all Petrovich.
— Petrovich, what Russell, went to the flooded, — some said.
But he silently waved. From the muted conversations from the exhaust before it suddenly came the phrase, much zadevshaya mind: «Aged Petrovich …»
— Sam-young? — he growled in frustration.
But drops of poison, got soul, began to have effect: «But they are right».— he thought, remembering the last few days we catch heart and summed up. And as before reeling kilometers over the pond and wells drilled. Personally appeared the picture of recent returns from fishing when his wife Sonia gently, but condescension said: «Slav, nothing probably gone, the weather is something which». Petrovich quietly undressed and went into the bathroom.
The balance after the fall of bent cock, but back he did not worked. Petrovich is automatically hooked, but the severity of his hand stalled deaf. «Only this was not enough». — he thought.
— What have you got? — Andreev said.
— The toe seems — Petrovic said, holding in suspense tackle.

Annoying thing was to lose this rocker, who for many years served like a talisman. I remembered how in some years managed to get him on the course of walleye, and then began unimaginable. The first is lowering the rocker caused a bite and a good perch found himself on the ice, then another. Then instinct alone prompted the direction in which you want to drill wells. Instantly the crowd of fishermen formed like a loop, moving over the pond. Perhaps with the altitude, it looked like a flock of birds, which turned out to be the leader Petrovich. Attempts by individual fishermen leave in the direction of not crowned with success, and they returned to this strange flock, getting a tiny portion of production, in the best case.

Hand, the former in suspense, still felt a great weight as if to tackle added cargo. «What is it?» — Petrovich thought. For the first time in many years of fishing he felt something unknown before. Then there was a soft jerk, rather potyazhka that with incredible speed made the heart beat of the fisherman. «Is the fish?» Doubts have disappeared, when jerks frequent. Fisher tried to choose the line, but it was impossible. In the summer fishing rod in such cases, weaken the clutch, but how to do it on a primitive winter fishing rod with a small coil and brake. A line was a total of 0.22. «Help me, Lord!» — suddenly came to mind, and then repeated it many times myself.
Prayer whether to take effect, or an invisible enemy on the other side gear gave a weakness, but succeeded bit by bit to move the fish to a meter and a half. But it was only a moment in the upcoming fight. All returned to their former position.

Andreev was standing next to each other. He did not ask, knowing what had happened. The situation was clearly different from that when the fishermen foolishly shouting: «Tear, tear!»
The next attempt to bring more significant results: the fish managed to raise three meters, but again, followed by a spurt, and fishing line, burning his fingers, looking down.
Repeating the same procedure Petrovich lost track of time. The brain and his body were in a great suspense. He realized that he was getting tired, but he continued to fight. By the end of half an hour or more, he finally saw a fish approaches the surface, helped pyatnadtsatisantimetrovy not thick, almost without snow, ice. It was a huge pike. At Petrovich went cold in the chest: «The balance, so even without a leash. This is the end…»

Amplify the light scared fish and added strength. Broken away from the hands of the line, she rushed back down. With some despair began landing of a fisherman again, and when he finally led to the very hole, with a strange calmness said:
— Nikolai Alex, let’s hook.
But it was odd, the tool ready for a long time.
— Hold on, hold her, — Andreev said, dropping the hook in the hole, and saying to himself by the arm, — No, this will not do.
— Yes cling at last! — I blurted Petrovich.
— There are, it seems.

Obviously, he felt a terrible pain from the sharp hook, the fish suddenly made a powerful movement of the tail so that the column of spray burst from the hole, and abruptly went into the depths. Pour water jet Andreev in his hand with a broken handle, as if the explosion was thrown and fell on the ice. «All…» — Petrovich thought, not feeling in the hand of the fishing line. With a trembling hand he found it in the hole and, without feeling gravity despair repeated:
— All…

The views of friends met. They thought the same thing: «It is a pity, but what can you do such fishing fate».
Petrovich is still shaking hands wrung line, regretting the lost fish, and perhaps even more about the rocker, suddenly I felt a jerk. What happened is the miracle, which is often said, and believe that, but no one has ever seen him. Petrovic was the first.

The fight continued. It left in the body of the pike hook only gave her strength. Weathered same Petrovich stress hardly gone on advantage. Until the end, he still could not believe what had happened.

But being terribly stubborn by nature and not having an athletic build, it was what is called, extremely stringy and did not intend to give an opponent.
Catching up in youth sports, especially Petrovich succeeded in skiing, requiring superhuman endurance. Now he clearly remembered a ski race finish. It remains to run less than a kilometer, and the strength left him. Nakata back «Elk» two meters tall yells: «Skiing!» It is necessary to give, but it is better to die. Blood hits to the head, the mind retreats, and his arms and his legs carrying him on the track to nowhere holding forces. Consciousness returns to finish. He was the first, and «Elk» wheezing even a hundred meters.

The new hook has already been found, the next time the pike has been communicated to the hole. Externally Andreev was calm, lowering it into the hole. Tired fatally Petrovich even seemed indifferent.
— Do not take risks, most importantly, podden twice hooks do not break.
— There is, — Andreev said, clutching predator to the ice.
But seeming composure this time played a cruel joke. The hole was not the head, and the back of the fish. Option to get her out of this situation was not. Petrovich put his hand into the hole and felt a strong back, cupped her was impossible.
For fish actions were fishermen respite. She performed the same powerful somersault, for the first time, going deep into and leaving the interior of Bagram. It was not uncomfortable with this hara-kiri.

Do not fish, persistent and relentless fighter, so thinking to myself, the conclusions are now Petrovich. More thought has been added in the mind of the fisherman. About rocker, he remembered, he had to fish the feelings that are difficult to explain only pity. But all did not give the opponent. Chance snack thin fishing line, in spite of everything, remained very high. Exhausted physically and mentally, Petrovich very concentrated, as it can make only the most experienced angler.
— Gaff, let me alone, – he gasped when the nose Pike was in the hole.
Fighter instinct told him that the last chance it, and not someone else. Now he saw his rocker holding a fish under the lower jaw on the same hook. There he directed the tip bagorika.

See the suburbs for an unprecedented trophy pike fishermen gathered almost all over the pond. Someone weighed it and said,
— A little before ten kilograms not reached.
— And you gut something to add.
Company fishermen roared, someone laughed, someone said something. Petrovich remained as if in a dream, above it all. He wanted to go home, to hear his wife’s voice, and a soak in a warm bath.

Came the familiar morning, been calling on the flooded, and noted with surprise:
— Well, you, Petrovich, give!
— Yes, some asked Academician pepper, — laughing, he replied to Comrade Andreev.
The views of friends met. They are as always understood each other …

Boris Prilepo25 February 2014 at 00:00

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