My uncle fixed American warships for 41 years. He was a welder at the US Navy base in Yokosuka. He started at 19. He barely spoke English. He didn't need to. He spoke steel. Destroyers. Cruisers. An aircraft carrier, more times than he can count. If a ship in the Seventh Fleet had a seam, there's a decent chance my uncle welded it. He never met most of the sailors who sailed on them. He just knew they came home safe. Because the seams held. Last spring, he retired. He expected a cake in the break room. Maybe a certificate. Instead, when he walked out of the shop on his last day, there were sailors lined up on both sides of the pier. In dress uniform. A boatswain raised a whistle to his lips. My uncle had no idea what was happening. Someone had to explain it to him later. In the US Navy, when a sailor retires after a long career, they "pipe him ashore." Sideboys line up. The whistle sounds. Everyone salutes. It's an honor the Navy gives its own. They gave it to a Japanese welder. My uncle walked between them slowly. Every few steps, he stopped and bowed. They held their salute the entire time. At the end of the line, the captain shook his hand and said something my uncle didn't understand. That night, he asked me to translate it. "Fair winds and following seas." He made me write it down in Japanese letters, so he could say it right. Now, every time we leave his house, he walks us to the door and says the only English sentence he knows by heart. "Fair winds and following seas."