It was an accidental pairing. He was not a military vet. When the wartime draft began, he was working in Honolulu for a San Francisco-based restaurant supply company.

His job, supplying the equipment needed to support the slew of new military bases and facilities in Hawaii, was considered “essential” for national security and exempted him from being drafted.

He died in late October of 2010. And on Veterans Day 2010, we gathered at the Waikiki Yacht Club to say goodbye, several dozen people, including a few old timers who had been part of the founding of the Waikiki Yacht Club. But when you live to nearly 97, as he did, most of your peers are already gone.

He was escorted out beyond the surf by four canoes and crews from the Waikiki Surf Club, including its legendary Koa racing canoe, Malia, accompanied his boat, the Nadu K-2. They turned out to honor one of the club’s founders, and its first president, who had been reelected many times. And it was an honor.

That day doesn’t seem so very long ago, but on the other hand, it seems like he’s been gone forever. Occasionally he appears in a dream, and it takes me a while to realize that it’s just a dream. I do welcome those experiences.