‘An institution on the Windward side.” That’s what some called Pat’s at Punaluu restaurant, which was there from 1951 to about 1994.

I wondered whether there was a Pat and what his story was. His real name, I found out, was Desmond Hallaran. He was Irish, the son of a British medic, and was born in Kashmir, India.

Hallaran fought in World War II and was captured by the Germans on the French coast in 1942. He was often cold, dirty and hungry.

During that time, he fantasized about finding a warm place in some little-known corner of the world. In 1944 he was talking with some other POWs about his dream. One of them suggested Hawaii. He promised himself that if he survived he’d come to Hawaii and plant his roots so deep that he would forget the horrors of war.

He failed to escape six times, but while on a railroad work party, his seventh attempt was successful. He and several others made it safely to the British 11th Armored Division lines.

After the war he came to Hawaii, hoping to find an earthly paradise. He met red-haired Iris Cowie of Wellington, New Zealand, who was on an around-the-world trip. She got only as far as Pat Hallaran.

The two fell in love in 1948. They opened the first Pat’s in 1951. It was originally a mile and a half away, but in 1960 they signed a 55-year lease for the old Von Hamm estate on the beach at Punaluu.

The Mormon Church opposed the move — to no avail — because the restaurant served alcohol. The church owned a lot of land in the area and was building the Church College of Hawaii, now BYU Hawaii.

Pat and Iris built a 60-unit hotel on the site with a restaurant and bar that could seat 350. Their slogan was “a place to dream awhile.”

Pat became a beachcomber. He wore slippers, short pants and well-tailored aloha shirts. He said he didn’t own a single pair of long pants.

The Hallarans wanted to re-create the atmosphere of old Hawaii. “We want a place where islanders and tourists can escape the hustle and bustle of Waikiki,” Iris said. “It’s a combination of driftwood and dreams.”

They scoured secondhand shops for Hawaii furnishings and decorations. Customers loved it. Within a year they were serving over 10,000 meals a month.

Favorite dishes included rack of lamb, lobster, teriyaki ribs, eggs Benedict, curry, seafood Newberg and prawns with capers, garlic and lemon butter.

Oakland Tribune sports reporter Alan Ward said after one visit to Pat’s, he and his wife were hooked. “The mahimahi was the greatest, the coconut cream tarts a gourmet’s delight, and the mai tais superlative.

“On many subsequent visits to the islands, Pat’s was our port-of-call, and the atmosphere of his seaside restaurant made such excursions not only enjoyable but memorable.”

Pat erected a Leprechaun Wishing Well on the property with all the proceeds going to Lions Club charities.

Pat’s at Punaluu had several famous mynah birds, including one named Shamrock. He would whistle at women and knew “Yankee Doodle.” He would squawk at people who tried to teach him new phrases, “You talk too much,” “Aw, shut up,” and if they persisted, “Drop dead.”

In the 1980s you could be entertained by Olomana, the Makaha Sons, Moe Keale, Don Ho, Hui Ohana, the Peter Moon Band and Eddie Kamae & the Sons of Hawaii.

Punaluu residents Glenn and Linda Crawford say Elvis Presley performed at Pat’s at Punaluu while filming “Blue Hawaii” nearby. Carol Burnett and Jim Nabors sang there, too.

“Pat’s charm, poise, self-confidence and excellence as a host were the reflection of life lived to the fullest,” said Alan Ward upon hearing of his death in 1969.

Iris sold Pat’s at Punaluu restaurant, and it changed hands a few times before closing around 1994. All that remains is a condominium tower that uses the same name. Iris died a few days short of her 100th birthday in 2015, and her ashes were scattered at what she and Pat sometimes referred to as “Hawaii’s Irish Coast.”

Coral dived for

Here’s some other things you might not know about Punaluu.

In Hawaiian, Punaluu means “coral dived for.”

In 1907 there was a train that connected Punaluu with Kahuku, 9 miles away. A one-way fare on the Koolau Railway was 45 cents. At the time there were few cars on Oahu.

Six years later James B. Castle announced plans to extend the train down the Windward side to Waimanalo. From there it would go through a tunnel to Manoa Valley, and on to Iwilei to complete a rail circuit of Oahu. It would allow for the economic development of the Windward side, he believed.

Castle’s railroad dream died with him in 1918, but his son, Harold, carried out his vision of turning Kailua into the thriving town it is today.

1946 tsunami

We all know of the early- morning April 1, 1946, tsunami that devastated Hilo. It also hit many other places, even Punaluu, said Auntie Mary Martin. She served hamburgers on Kamehameha Highway at a place named Mary’s Lunch Stand.

“It was a shack,” she said, and most of her family was sleeping in it. “My mother had gone out squidding. She saw the ocean was so low, and she called to my brother, who was waiting for the bus to go to town.

“Right away they knew what it was, and they came running and woke us. We grabbed the children and ran.

“The first wave didn’t do much damage. Mostly there were rocks all over the road. But then we saw the second big wave coming in, and it was BIG. We ran, and behind us we heard the tin roof flying off the shack.”

Several homes were moved as far as 100 feet by the tsunami in Punaluu. Fifty families were given temporary quarters at Schofield Barracks. Five lives were lost between Kahana and Kahuku.

Mary rebuilt the shack, changing its name to Tidal Wave Inn, and ran it until 1948.

Have a question or suggestion? Contact Bob Sigall, author of the five “The Companies We Keep” books, at Sigall@Yahoo.com.