Not biting? Here's what every angler does while waiting

If someone watched from the sidelines how much time fishing actually involves staring at a motionless float, they'd probably ask if we're okay. And honestly – that time often makes up a solid 90% of the whole trip. The bite is just short, pleasant interruptions between endless waiting. And the waiting has to be filled with something, so over the years at the water I've built up a whole list of things anglers do when the fish simply decide to ignore us.

The float hypnosis

The first stage is always the same – staring intently at the float as if a look alone could make it dip. After about twenty minutes you start seeing movement where there isn't any – a ripple from the wind, and your heart already jumps out of your chest. Strike? No, false alarm. Watch again. Some anglers get stuck at this stage all day and call it meditation.

Talking to yourself (or to the fish)

When no one's listening, and there's only water and ducks around, an angler starts reasoning out loud. "Why isn't it biting", "maybe it's too deep", "you're down there, I know you're down there" – and so on, until you finally start addressing the fish directly, as if it could hear you and change its mind. Occasionally it even works – but that's probably got nothing to do with the conversation.

The thermos ritual

Coffee or tea from a thermos – one of the most serious fishing rituals. The first cup gets drunk within the first half hour out of impatience. The second – once you realise nothing's going to happen soon. And the third just because you need something to do with your hands. If you brought sandwiches, they're usually eaten within the first hour, no matter how long you planned them to last the whole day.

Untangling the knot you don't remember tying

A knot appears out of nowhere on the line that wasn't there before you cast. How it got there, nobody knows – maybe it's the universe's way of reminding you you've been bored too long. You spend the next ten minutes patiently untangling it, often glancing over your shoulder at the float at the same time – and exactly the moment you turn back to untie the knot, it, of course, quietly sinks under the water.

Friendship with the angler next door

If another angler is sitting nearby who also isn't catching anything, a kind of camaraderie forms – both of you silently admit the day hasn't worked out, but neither says it out loud. Instead you talk about the weather, last week, someone's giant pike caught ten years ago that nobody saw but everyone believes in. Sometimes that conversation is more interesting than the fishing itself.

Dreaming of new gear

While waiting, in my mind I've usually already spent half my paycheck on a new rod I definitely don't need but which would "really change everything." Once home, of course, I forget about it – until the next time it's not biting.

Blaming everything but yourself

When hour after hour passes with no result, the search for someone to blame naturally begins. Wrong moon phase. Pressure rising. Wind from the wrong direction. Bait too bright, or too dull, or just "the fish are stupid today." Anything, except the possibility that maybe you should have checked the forecast before heading out, instead of relying on a hunch and last week's luck.

A quick nap

And finally – dozing off. The sun is warm, the water calm, the rod set, and your eyes close on their own. That's exactly the moment, of course, when it starts biting – but that's a story for another time.