That's a question we discussed on a recent afternoon hundreds of miles away from Alaska, in the middle of a big city. One of us -- Colby -- now lives in Portland, Ore., and has photos on the wall of time spent fishing with his dad, Joe, on the Kenai and Kasilof rivers. The other one of us -- McKibben -- lives on a piece of the family homestead in Ninilchik where she is often reminded of time spent fishing with her dad and Colby's great-grandfather, Walt.

COLBY: In 1998, when I was two years old, my father started a fishing guide business on the Kenai Peninsula. He had two boats, a drift boat and a power boat.

I do not have many memories of the business, but the finest ones would have to be going fishing with him and others that were sometimes fishing with him.

Every once in a while, the time would come when he would take me fishing. We would wake up at the "crack of dawn," as he would call it. We would wear multiple layers of pants, a couple pairs of socks and a few long-sleeved shirts, not to mention a large jacket.

He and I would load up in the truck with the boat on a trailer and go to the dock to put the boat in the water.

By the time the boat was in the water it was still very early and very cold. Sometimes Dad would go fast and the water would spray me. When it's cold out and you get sprayed with cold water it does not feel good.

One of the reasons I liked going fishing was because every time we would go fishing we would pack some snacks in the boat. Those snacks sometimes included my favorite: little crackers with peanut butter on the inside. Yum!

Sometimes my dad would let me steer the boat for a few minutes and I thought that was really cool.

McKibben: My earliest childhood memories involve fishing and my dad, too. Fishing was the backbone of our village, whether it was for the cannery or for food for the family.

Once, when Dad was working on his boat in Ninilchik River, I was on the boat with him. I'm not sure how old I was, probably around 4 or 5, and I lost my balance and fell overboard. I remember seeing sunlight filtered through the river's water and the shape of the boat's hull beneath the surface.

Fortunately, Dad was nearby. I recall his strong arms reaching into the river and hauling me back onto the boat's deck.

More often than not, my brother and sister and I would fish the set net sites with Mom on the beach. On rare occasions I got to go on Dad's gillnet boat. The hours before the fishing period began were the most exciting. The boats anchored in front of Ninilchik bobbed on the inlet. The sun broke over the horizon. Radios crackled with excited conversations.

Once, Dad asked if I would call his friend, Ray on the Pearl S., to ask how things were going. It was the first time I had used the radio. When Ray answered my call, I was so surprised I dropped the radio mike.

Sometimes, Dad would fish the set nets with us. Those are especially fond memories when all of us -- Dad, Mom, my brother and sister and I -- were at our beach camp. In the evening, Dad would wrap a fresh salmon in foil and bury it in the coals of a bonfire on the beach. I've eaten lots of salmon in my life, but those evenings will always be favorite memories because they were accompanied by the scent of salty Cook Inlet breezes, the swishing of waves breaking on the shore, the cries of seagulls overhead and all of us together.

COLBY: At the end of the day, when we came home from fishing, sometimes we would have a great deal of fish and sometimes we would have none. I did not get to go fishing with my dad every day, but when I did, boy it was quite a treat.

McKIBBEN: That's right. Sometimes fishing was good and we knew we would have food to last us until the next fishing season. Sometimes fishing was poor and Dad had to find work outside of Ninilchik during the winter. But fishing was something we did as a family. It was a good way to grow up.