The Tiny River Alne - Robins and Rostelliforms

January is a depressing month in any sphere of activity. Christmas and New Year celebrations are over, leaving behind mass outbreaks of ill-disposition and severe hangovers. Every post brings a new crop of horrific bills. The weather is usually wet, windy and bitterly cold. There's nothing to laff at at all.

The turnout for the annual New Year fishing match is, if anything, even less than that for Boxing Day . And the results are even more abysmal, with almost a whole fortnight of merrymaking exacting its toll of cack-handed casting, unnoticed bites, missed strikes and falling in the water.

But take heart. In the words of Bernard Venables, introducing the immortal angler Mr Crabtree, there are joys in winter fishing which belie the general impression of nature being held in a deep, cold sleep. 'In winter,' he wrote, 'the otter may still be seen by the lucky fisherman. The heron still stalks about the shallows... The kingfisher and the dipper have not departed, and in fact the dipper sings more sweetly from December on than it does at any other time...'

The hardy January fisherman, then, can sit swaddled on his basket and, as he waits for bites, listen to the sweet song of the energetic dipper. As the bird's cheerful call penetrates the fug of his hangover, he greets it with the time- honoured salutation to one of nature's liveliest and chirpiest creations: 'You noisy little swine! Bugger off...'

One of the consolations of winter fishing is that certain fish have hardened up, grown bigger and stronger, and are at the peak of fighting condition. The roach, for instance, hardly renowned as a scrapper, will emerge as a well-muscled fighter. So will the rudd, more usually thought of as a summer fish.

A winter chub is a different fish altogether from the finicky and often spiritless thing of the summer. This is the time when even medium- sized chub smash the unwary angler time after time with a sudden dive for a tangle of roots, leaving the angler lost in admiration for their fighting qualities and in a rosy afterglow of the memories of their titanic struggles. (That's the official version, anyway. How it really leaves him is muttering, cursing, in a foul temper and just in the mood to get wellied when he reaches the pub.)

The pike, above all, is at the peak of its powers. There is no way that a winter pike gives in without fighting to the last inch of line. Even when grassed, it makes one last desperate gesture of defiance. In the bitter January weather, the angler's fingers are stiff and clumsy, making disgorging a tricky and sometimes hit-and-miss operation. When the pike takes a snap at his fumbling fingers, it makes sure it doesn't miss.

The angler has one consolation. With his hands as numb as they are, he doesn't feel the pain so much. Not until he's thawing out in the pub afterwards and asking for 'A pint of - Aaarrrggghhh!!!!'

Anyway to the fishing the Warwickshire Avon, well yeap, that's still in the fields still but dropping nicely, the Warwickshire Stour, banging through still and on the up again, the Alne, well that's is actually fishable oddly. Its levels have been all over the shop of late however hopefully going forward looking at the weather hopefully we will get some more settled river conditions. 

One good thing about the Alne is that it can drop nicely when it's been in flood and its surprising how soon you can get fishing when its been over the banks. 

I fancied a dace or two and I've stumbled upon a really lovely stamp of later with the biggest going 12 ounces which ain't a bad fish whatsoever.

And I'm sure there are bigger fish to be caught too, the problem is whether or not they are there or not. The fish when the rivers are in flood often gorge themselves on the extra food that is being washed in to the river and can often be off the feed because of their bulging bellies. That the theory anyway, because others days from hiding away in the slacks they could well go on the feed due to being hungry. It really is a lottery !!!

Anyway the fish swim I tried which produced bites within seconds last time was dead so I decided to fish two familiar swims that carry some depth. 

You can see how chocolate brown it is but fish maggot and worm the fish if they are there are on to it quite quick. Now I do like the Sonubaits Black Roach groundbait as it is very sweet smelling indeed with the added coriander and the nuggets of hemp I'm sure help to keep the fish in the swim.

I mix a few maggots in with the groundbait as well which I'm sure helps as well. Anyway 'Jack's peg was a nice fishable level however there was only greedy minnows in there so for the last hour and a bit I decided to stick it out in one swim only.

There is a back eddie on the far side which is carries some depth and also the tree to my right also needs a good 4 second count before the feeder hits bottom.

I was missing bites straight away but then after a good 5 or 6 missed decent pulls on the 1oz quiver tip eventually a small dace was caught. Not exactly the stamp I was after but a few more came in quick succession and I'm sure the trickling in of maggots helped build the numbers.

With the friendly robins keeping me company the key to the bigger stamp was to fish a whole worm on the small size 14 hook where the bites were quite ridiculous, amplified by the light quivertip I suppose but certainly nice to watch. Dusk came and I was still getting bites and catching fish but the battery on my head torch was on its dregs so it kept on switching off after a few seconds.

I'm sure I could have caught more fish well in to dark but I decided to go when I could negotiate the bridge of death without issue. Maybe next time here I was float fish because I'm sure I would have caught more fish if I had chose that method for the session. Not prolific by all means but enough bites to keep me interested and that's good enough for me.