Amber and Monty got married in the middle of Leech Lake, on the bow of a sailboat named the Knota Lotta, with Abby and Abe holding the rope. Then everybody motored back to Walker for a Chase on the Lake wedding reception where the seating chart told guests to find their harbor. Amber is a game warden. Monty builds software. They keep a lake place on Leech, and this whole day was the most them thing I have ever photographed.
I photograph a lot of weddings where the lake is the view. This was the first one where the lake was the venue, the aisle, and most of the guest transportation. From the first frame in the getting-ready suite to the last one on the dance floor, nothing about it was performed for the camera — it was just their actual life, dressed up for one afternoon, and my job was to keep up.
Getting Ready at Chase on the Lake
The morning started in a suite at Chase on the Lake, and it belonged to the kids as much as the couple. Abby, braids done for boat travel, supervised everything in dusty blue. Abe wore a navy suit with boat shoes — somebody in that family understands commitment to a theme — and when it came time for Amber's sandals, he knelt down on the hotel carpet and worked the strap around her ankle with both hands, all concentration, like it was the most important job on the schedule. That frame tells you everything about how this family operates.
Around them, the room did what getting-ready rooms do: the beaded gown doubled in the mirror on the closet door, pearls got fastened at Amber's neck while she laughed at something off to the side, one of the men crouched to straighten Abe's tie. Nobody hovered. Nobody fussed. The suitcase in the corner had a snorkel mask sticking out of it, because this is a family that comes to Walker to be on the water, and Saturday was no exception.
Down the Dock, Into a Fishing Boat
There was no limo. There was a red Caymas walleye boat tied up at the Chase marina, and a bridesmaid in a black dress at the wheel. Amber climbed down off the dock in her wedding dress, took a seat between two outboards, and rode across Walker Bay with her bouquet in her lap. Somewhere out in the middle of Leech Lake, a sailboat was waiting at anchor.
Finding it was its own small adventure. The first time we went out to scout the Knota Lotta, we couldn't find her — that's the honest truth about planning a sailboat wedding on big water. Leech gets a vote. On the wedding day the fleet got it right, and the crossing turned into one of my favorite stretches of the whole afternoon: Amber pulled Abby in and kissed the top of her head somewhere mid-lake, wind everywhere, the whole day still ahead of them.
The transfer from fishing boat to sailboat happened gunwale-to-gunwale on open water — hands reached out, the boats leaned into each other, and one by one the wedding party stepped across in dress shoes like they'd done it a hundred times. Maybe they had. When your family keeps a place on Leech Lake, this is simply how you get to church.
A Sailboat Ceremony on Leech Lake
On the bow, Monty pinned Abe's boutonniere himself, two men in suits and sunglasses leaning in to help, and then the officiant opened his binder and the lake went quiet in that way water does when something is about to matter. Amber and Monty stood facing each other between the rigging lines. Abby and Abe stood right there with them — not watching from a bench, in it — because this wasn't two people getting married. It was four people becoming a crew.
The proof came halfway through the ceremony, when the officiant handed out a length of navy-and-white rope. Four hands took hold — Amber's, Monty's, Abby's, Abe's — and together they worked a sailor's knot while the boat swung gently on its anchor line. I've photographed a lot of unity ceremonies. I've never photographed one where the whole family pulled the same rope.
Four hands on one length of rope in the middle of Leech Lake. Nobody rehearsed it, and nobody needed to. That's the frame I'll be thinking about in December.
They laughed through half their vows — heads thrown back, the officiant grinning along — and when the kiss came, Abe watched from two feet away in his navy suit, and the little crowd on deck raised their arms with the couple on the walk back down the deck. Married, on the water that runs through their whole life together.
The Ride Back — Portraits on the Water
After the ceremony, we kept the boats. Amber and Monty took the wheel of the Knota Lotta together under her oxblood bimini, kissed at the bow rail with the red sail cover furled above them, and settled into the stern like two people who had nowhere else to be — which, for once, was true. The wide sky did the decorating. Leech Lake ran flat and silver behind them all the way to the tree line.
The frame I keep coming back to happened on the ride home, though. Monty leaned over on the bench seat of the fishing boat, boat at speed, wake unspooling behind them, and kissed Amber's cheek while the wind took her hair apart. She's mid-laugh, eyes closed. It's the entire day in one photograph — motion, water, and the two of them completely unbothered by the chaos of it.
Back at the Chase marina, we walked the long public dock for portraits: the two of them backlit against a sky full of July clouds, the resort's timbered gables in the distance, and one family portrait on a dock bench that dissolved into laughter before I could level the camera. Abby and Abe squeezed in on either side, everybody lost it, and that frame — all four of them mid-laugh with the marina behind — is the one I'd print first.
The Reception at Chase on the Lake
Inside, Izzy and the Chase on the Lake crew had the room turned over and ready: navy linens, greenery, and a driftwood sailboat on every table with the table number lettered on its little canvas sail. The seating chart was a gold-framed mirror that read Find Your Harbor — your place for the evening awaits. If you're going to commit to a nautical wedding, this is how you do it — handmade, specific, and a little bit funny about itself.
The evening ran on the same current the whole day had. Abby carried Abe into the grand entrance piggyback. Amber disappeared into hug after hug — the long kind, eyes closed, the kind you only get from people who drove a long way to be there. There were toasts, there was cake, and at some point in the dance-floor chaos Amber bent down and met a small raised hand with a high-five, uplights going purple behind her. The pearls were still on. The shoes, I believe, were long gone.
The day after, I sent the drone up over Walker Bay for one last frame: the resort, the marina, the long dock, and all that water. From five hundred feet, you can see exactly why these two got married the way they did. The lake isn't scenery for this family. It's the address.
Planning a Chase on the Lake Wedding?
Chase on the Lake sits right on Leech Lake in Walker, Minnesota, with the marina a short walk from the lobby — which means your getting-ready suite, your dock portraits, and your reception can all happen within a few hundred feet, and your guests can stay the night upstairs. And if you want the ceremony itself on the water, it's genuinely doable: charter a boat out of the Walker marina, keep the guest list tight, and give yourself a scouting day. I've photographed more than one wedding at this resort, and the lake earns its billing every time.
If you're weighing venues around the Brainerd Lakes and beyond, my guide to the area's wedding venues is a good place to start. And if a boat ceremony, a lakeside reception, or just a photographer who will happily shoot from a moving fishing boat sounds like your kind of day — reach out. Summer Saturdays on the water book early, usually 12 to 18 months ahead.
