The success of the diet book allowed him to follow a hunch that a coffee table picture book, using the skills he had learned doing aerial photography during the war, would sell.

He self-published his first aerial book, "Above San Francisco," in 1969.

"The book sold like crazy," Mr. Cameron said. "I sold out 10,000 copies."

Later editions added text by Alistair Cooke, Herb Caen and Chronicle columnist Art Hoppe.

In the early 1970s, he produced a 45-minute film version of "Above San Francisco," which had a long run at a theater in the Cannery.

In 2003, Mr. Cameron mounted a career retrospective, with prints 9 feet long, at the Presidio Officers' Club.

Asked at the time about slowing down, he said: "Retirement is when they bring the wicker basket in." He was blind in his left eye from macular degeneration and carried a business card that said "Robert Cameron, World's Oldest One-Eyed Aerial Photographer."

On his last flight, he had minimal vision in his right eye, and he was completely blind by the time he died.

"One thing he attributed to his long life was the 5,000 rounds of golf he played at the San Francisco Golf Club," said Tony Cameron. He also was a proponent of a daily drink, a martini or gin gimlet or single-malt scotch. "We were putting a little scotch in his ice cubes last week," his son said.

His wife, Janet, predeceased him in 2003. Survivors include his girlfriend, Jeffreys Corner of Los Angeles; sons Todd of Temecula (Riverside County) and Tony of Sausalito; daughters Jane Manoogian of Grosse Pointe, Mich., and Tracy Davis of Santa Rosa; and eight grandchildren.

In lieu of services, the family would like people to attend "Environmental Journey," Mr. Cameron's show at the Metreon, scheduled to be up until the end of the month. It includes 59 giant photo murals highlighting green practices and environmental themes from across the Pacific Rim. The window display on Fourth Street is his last photo of Lombard Street, colorfully made over for an anniversary celebration of the board game Candy Land.

"He regarded that show as his legacy," Tony Cameron said. "He wanted to be able to show at the end of his life the kind of work that he did."

E-mail Sam Whiting at swhiting@sfchronicle.com.