Imagine, for a moment, that you are a small, fast, silvery fish. You live with others just like you— as one, you and your schoolmates fly through the water. At times, you may even fly so fast and so far that you find yourself erupting into the air— an unpleasant experience. But, what if you are being chased by something bigger than you? In the vast ocean, your main defenses are to flee, and to seek safety in numbers.

What if you were able to zip behind a fence? Your hunters would not be able to follow you through the narrow openings: you'd be safe!

That's what's happening every moment in the tidal creeks of mangrove forests all over the world. That's why these creeks are known as "baitfish corridors" and as essential links in the global food web.

The small fish which find shelter behind the long roots of the mangrove trees which line these creeks may not always be tiny. Some of them are youngsters of species of fish that will grow much, much, larger. Some of them are born in the ocean, and as tiny individuals, follow their instincts a long way to these mangrove forests, seeking a safe nursery within the corridors. So, these tidal creeks could also be called "babyfish" corridors.

In the years that I've been exploring these meandering natural channels, there's a sight which always quickens my pulse as it soothes my soul— when my canoe glides around a bend, causing a silvery shower of small fish to explode from the surface, in a maneuver I like to call "skipping school."

Larger fish may also be disturbed by my canoe: the silver king, or tarpon; the sought-after snook; the striped sheepshead; snappers of many varieties; seatrout, bonefish, and red drum, all fisher folks' favorites, all seeking their prey in the mangrove corridors, and all may be found at any size.

Birds also inhabit these winding ways as well, using the prop roots of the mangroves as perches for their fishing expeditions. A roseate spoonbill bursts into the air in a flurry of cotton-candy pink, a blue heron disdainfully croaks as he gathers air beneath his great wings. Both were feeding on the small denizens of the mangrove creeks before I so rudely disturbed them. Other residents include ibis, cormorant, osprey, both yellow- and black-crowned night herons, green backed heron, snowy egret, American egret, wood stork; birds we all love to see, large beautiful birds that need a plentiful supply of food to flourish. In a healthy mangrove habitat laced with intertidal corridors, they can find it.

It's for these reasons, and many more, that my partner, later husband, Dr. Tom Kazo, and I named our restoration of the hurricane-devastated mangrove habitat of Matheson Hammock/ R. Hardy Matheson Preserve "Project Baitfish." For that's a common name of those small, sleek fish, bestowed upon them by people who use them when they drop a line and try their luck. They are also known as "forage fish" because they are what so many other species feed upon. Without a good supply of forage fish, the upper levels of the magnificent food web could collapse. I retrospect, we could have named it "Project Babyfish."

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