The second day of the trip, my dad and I drew a guide with a reputation of being a hot head, but by God, he could put you on some fish. A rat-nested spinning reel resulted in 15 minutes of timeout on the back of the boat, unfortunately close to his “sh*t bucket”, but he put me on the biggest red drum of my life, 35 inches. Usually, there’s no need to worry about overcrowded fishing spots, but as soon as we anchored and started reeling in reds, other guides swarmed us like flies. Fed up after 3 or 4 ruined spots, our guide mumbled “Well, this is a clusterf*ck if I’ve ever seen one”, hauled up the anchor, and motored out of the spot, cutting a handful of other boats’ taut lines. As the coast vanishes, species are losing the habitats they need to survive. Thousands of diverse species inhabit the once-plentiful Mississippi River Delta, from red drum to swamp rats to snow geese. All in all, the vast system of forests, swamps, marshes, river channels, estuaries, and islands make up one of the most productive wetland ecosystems in North America. Over 70 percent of waterfowl that use the Mississippi and Central flyways winter or stopover in Louisiana every year, and the Delta presents world-class fresh and saltwater fishing opportunities, not to mention the number of federally endangered species, such as the Louisiana black bear, that struggle to survive in the remaining coastal habitat. April 7, 2018: the best meal of my life. Back to Hopedale, four years later, except this time, we upgraded our living arrangements to an old steam-powered river boat a mile or two down the road. Smiley, the caretaker of the river boat, fixed a low country boil after we arrived back from the familiar channels of my 6th grade trip. With enough crawfish, shrimp, andouille sausage, and corn on the cob to fill up two 120-quart igloo coolers, we ate until the heavenly, creole food grew cold (about 3 or so hours). Our mouths on fire from the pounds of crab boil and Cajun seasoning mixed into the boiling water, we sat on th>