He relocated from Sydney over 30 years ago, believing retirement would be as pleasant as the weekend holiday he and his wife had in Port Stephens, where their kids enjoyed fishing, dancing, surfing and swimming.

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“It all went downhill from there,” Harry said of the marriage breakdown that upturned his life.

Not one to be kept down, he has chosen to be happy “all day” until he is “the same age as my tongue and a bit older than my teeth.”

Harry said that he “loves talking to the people he meets, especially at his favourite Anna Bay café, or while out dancing four nights a week.

“If you can’t be happy yourself, how can you make others happy?”

Choosing to abandon his teen dream of becoming a hot and bothered train driver, Harry started a more comfortable, air-conditioned apprenticeship at sixteen years of age, becoming an aircraft engineer in the Air Force – serving for fifteen years.

He was engaged on the Med Vac team rescuing wounded soldiers from the Vietnam War where he “learnt a great deal, practically as a doctor’s offsider.”

Persevering with his passion for locomotives, he has been an avid model railway builder, creating structures and townships using treated Birubi scavenged seaweed as the tree tops and garden shrubbery.

His seaweed colouring and preserving process has gained interest internationally.

As a former surfer, he likes to use “what the sea gives to him and only when it does.”

Harry’s favourite pastimes have been singing and dancing, which is when you’ll see his contagious and enigmatic smile light up the entire room.

He vividly recalls, as an eight-year-old, being taught five dance styles by his state ballroom dancing champion Aunt Heather, which he eagerly showcased in the loungeroom to his Mum, backed by their eclectic collection of 78’s records.

Soon after, Harry recalls being fitted at Squires menswear with a “fine set of tails, pinstriped trousers, a white frilly shirt and a big red bow tie” in preparation for his first Ball.

Donned in his “you beaut gear”, young Harry accompanied his Dad, who was swathed in an immaculate tuxedo, and his Mum, in a beautiful handmade flowing gown.

Invited into the prestigious, centre of the room dance circle, Harry quickly became the belle of the ball and first on the leaderboard.

His quickstepping feet exhausted the band and all the ladies queued for a fox trot, Viennese waltz or a place in the progressive barn dance.

Harry went on to teach his entire squadron, who would congregate at the dance hall “bloodhouse” (so-called because of all the fights between defence force boys), ensuring that none of their girlfriends went without an educated dance partner.

During his time dancing, Harry additionally explored his “boy soprano voice” and the dream his Mum had for him to one day sing like Austrian operatic tenor Richard Tauber.

When Harry’s voice broke with puberty, he got his Tauber voice and subsequently secured a weekend pass to visit his Mum and sing Ave Maria to her in his newly acquired brilliant timbre.

Harry still has the original music sheets he used to learn to sing.

They were the only remnants saved after his childhood weatherboard home burnt down.

Due to his hands suffering old football injuries, Harry feels he is losing the fine dexterity required to create his model train constructions.

With his voice stripped from a severe bout of laryngitis; he no longer sings in choirs.

Despite these challenges, Harry continues partaking in daily stretching and long walks to preserve his agility for dancing, where he is always singing and smiling.

By Jacie WHITFIELD