When Your Crew Is Your Family, Legacies Are Made

My husband Arron (WAC founder + CEO) often talks about the summers he spent fishing alongside his father, Walt Kallenberg, in Bristol Bay. Those seasons shaped his understanding of stewardship, community, and legacy — and have become a throughline of our family’s story today. That story holds so much weight that Arron spent nearly a year of his life writing “Home & Homecoming,” a document of the Kallenberg history and legacy that’s included as the introduction to my cookbook, Eat Wild: Cooking at Home with the Seafood of Alaska. 

While a multigenerational story of fishing & family feels deeply personal to us, it’s also emblematic of so many families across Alaska whose lives are intertwined with wild salmon. Bristol Bay fisherman Melanie Brown shares that story as well, and this week’s essay from her reflects on what it means to fish alongside her children as they grow into capable crew members in their own right. It's a beautiful reminder that wild salmon fisheries aren’t just sustained by healthy runs of fish. They’re also sustained by the passing down of knowledge from one generation to the next.

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My Crew

By Melanie Brown

The regulation fishing season started this Wednesday for my river district in Bristol Bay, so by the time you read this, my days and nights will be revolving around the ebbs and flows of the tides. This year, my kids will be in the skiff with me. 

I have had a couple of other seasons with my daughter Mari and son Oliver as my only crew members, but last year, Oliver wanted to see what it was like to stay in Juneau for the summer, where his friends are. He had just graduated, and I wanted him to be his own man. 

So Mari and I handled the work in the skiff for most of the season, but we started out with Sai, a greenhorn. I am glad that Sai joined us because the fish ran early during the 2025 season and we needed some extra hands in the boat to handle all of the fish that returned to the Naknek River. Sai does not look like a big and strong person, but their days of power lifting in their youth helped us pull the heavy loads of salmon over the gunwales of the skiff. 

After Sai went home, Mari and I found a good rhythm with the tides, but I hurt my ribs pulling a very tight line over the bow, and pulling through the gear was keeping me from healing. Luckily, I had the help of my nieces and our friend Tye, from my brother-in-law's skiff, to take turns with us so I could take some pressure off my ribs and make it to the end of the season. It will be good to have Oliver back this year. He has grown even more since the last season he was with us. 

2023 was the first year that I was in the skiff with just my kids, and I felt a little nervous because I had just lost a good crewman, Andres. I was not sure if my younger kid Oliver was ready to step up. But he and Mari, his older sister, naturally filled in the space that Andres left behind. 

Our friend Mark Titus joined us for some tides to do a little filming that first year too, and it was nice when he commented on how my crew knew exactly what to do, even though I wasn’t always directing them or calling out orders. A lot of the work can be repetitive from tide to tide when set netting, so it was reassuring to know that my crew — Mari and Oliver — were paying attention to the timing of what needed to be done, and that they were responsive when we needed to do things differently. 

Over the years, I have worked with some great people who have been kind and patient with my kids as they learned the ropes — something that I also had when I was a greenhorn, as a tween in the 80s. I remember falling in the deep sticky mud and feeling self-conscious about how much I was contributing to the work that needed to be done. But I also remember the triumphs of progress as I grew in my skills and felt the pride of my great grandfather. My old fishing partner, Larry, fished with our family for 20 years — and he was the one who taught me how to run the skiff and approach the waves when we were hauling a heavy load. His caring and teaching made him like a second father, and I am fortunate to have worked with someone who extended that graciousness to me. 

When the fishing is heavy and the weather is gnarly, some of the tides are nightmarish to get through. But I believe there is an unspoken bond that forms between people who may be having flashes of wondering why they fish. When the fish are delivered and we are heading in for some warm food and a bit of sleep, it is a super good feeling and I am sure that my crew feels the same way. 

For me, fishing feels even more meaningful knowing that my crew are my kids for yet another season in Bristol Bay.

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You can catch a glimpse of Melanie Brown and her crew on her skiff in the trailer for Mark Titus’s film The Turn, which explores our relationship with and the existential issues surrounding wild salmon in Alaska — as well as in the Pacific Northwest, where movements to restore habitat have been pivotal in helping wild salmon populations rebound and thrive. Mark Titus is a friend of our family’s, too, so we’re especially looking forward to sharing more of The Turn with you when it’s released. 

As another Bristol Bay season gets underway, I'm wishing Melanie, Mari, Oliver, and all the fishing families heading into their summer a safe and successful season. May the moments shared with loved ones become stories worth telling for generations to come.

Live Wild,

Monica

Pictured above: A family/crew selfie on Melanie Brown’s skiff, with her son Oliver (center) and her daughter Mari (pictured right).