Victor Gauntlett

Memories of Sean Connery's silver Aston Martin DB5 in Dr No were very hazy by 1980, the year in which Victor Gauntlett marched into the Buckinghamshire backwater of Newport Pagnell to take charge of the company that made the iconic car. Like everyone in the car industry, he knew Aston Martin was in financial peril despite a 66-year heritage and the illusive halo effect that royal patronage (the Prince of Wales's) gave the company.

Malcolm Victor Gauntlett, businessman: born 20 May 1942; chairman, Pace Petroleum 1972-83; chairman, Aston Martin Lagonda 1981-91; chairman, Proteus Petroleum 1988-98; married 1966 Jean Brazier (three sons, one daughter); died Hayes, Middlesex 31 March 2003.

Memories of Sean Connery's silver Aston Martin DB5 in Dr No were very hazy by 1980, the year in which Victor Gauntlett marched into the Buckinghamshire backwater of Newport Pagnell to take charge of the company that made the iconic car. Like everyone in the car industry, he knew Aston Martin was in financial peril despite a 66-year heritage and the illusive halo effect that royal patronage (the Prince of Wales's) gave the company.

The hand-building and racing of Aston Martins had, in truth, always been the automotive equivalent of vanity publishing – an enterprise where excitement held sway over profit-making. The industrial tycoon David Brown stuck at it the longest, but even his deep pockets were empty by 1972. Then a succession of owners tried to turn a penny from bespoke car-manufacture until Gauntlett's arrival.

At first, his years of business nous gleaned in the oil industry, plus a 50 per cent stake, gained him a place on the board. Then his contacts brought about a change of ownership as the company was acquired in 1981 by three enthusiastic Greek businessmen, Peter Livanos and Nick and John Papanicalou, who backed Gauntlett to the full. He was now chairman and, three years later, he and Livanos bought out the others to become Aston Martin's masters, Gauntlett holding 25 per cent and the Livanos family the balance. The deal valued Aston Martin, a name redolent of sexy sports cars, at a mere £2m.

Selling Aston Martins was not enough. A catastrophic sales collapse – to just 30 cars in 1982 – was caused by the worldwide recession, and a dearth of wealthy buyers who loved the cars' 170mph performance but were also aware of their gas-guzzling thirst. Anyway, the basic V8 coupé was 15 years old.

So Gauntlett set about targeting new markets. The Aston Martin Lagonda, an extraordinary, wedge-shaped four-door saloon, was revamped and pushed hard at customers in the Middle East. Most Aston traditionalists loathed the Lagonda, but its weird mix of high-tech vulgarity and olde worlde charm found an eager audience in Oman, Kuwait and Qatar.

Next, he established Tickford, an engineering subsidiary that offered to sprinkle Aston Martin gold-dust on other companies' products. There was soon a Tickford Austin Metro, a Tickford Ford Capri and even Tickford train interiors.

Gauntlett was born in Surrey and educated at St Marylebone Grammar School in London. He served in the RAF and Territorial Army before, in 1963, aged 21, he joined BP and in 1967 moved to the French parent company of Total. He was congenial but steely, and his natural entrepreneurship found its true outlet in 1972, when he founded Pace Petroleum. In 11 years, he built Pace into Britain's biggest independent petrol company, eventually selling it to the Kuwait Investment Office in 1983.

Owning and racing vintage cars as a hobby, Gauntlett naturally found Aston Martin attractive. But unlike previous chairmen of the company, he refused to pour money into putting the company back on the racing grid; its cars had won at Le Mans in 1959 but its Formula One foray had been an expensive disaster.

Instead, he spent time updating the production cars with what little capital he had available. The Italian coachbuilder Zagato designed a dramatic and lightweight body for the standard V8 chassis, and the 75 limited-edition cars subsequently built garnered Aston Martin enormous media coverage, and considerable enthusiast "cred" for a relatively tiny outlay. In 1984, Aston Martin built its 10,000th car but, with a workforce of 350, the factory's hopes were pinned on an all-new model, the Virage, unveiled at the 1988 motor show.

Underlying these activities, though, was Gauntlett's reluctant realisation that Aston Martin could never survive alone; with a small customer base and little chance of achieving economies of scale, it was doomed. Happily, Henry Ford II, whose grandfather had pioneered mass-production – the antithesis of Aston's painstaking process – decided on a whim that he'd rather like to own Aston Martin. In September 1987, Ford bought the British company, for a purchase price, agreed during secret negotiations but not disclosed, of at least £10m.

Throughout this time, Gauntlett became known as a larger-than-life character. His very name summed up the Bulldog Drummond spirit he thought Aston Martin should exude. He was a large man in every sense but his blazers, impeccably tailored double-breasted suits and omnipresent watch-chain, together with a booming voice and boyish eagerness, set him apart from the grey morass of typical car industry executives. He aimed to be as "old school" as Aston Martin's customers.

Gauntlett agreed to stay on as Aston Martin chairman until 1991. Before his departure, however, he was chuffed to see Aston spiritedly sponging up Ford's cash back at Le Mans with a very creditable 11th place in the gruelling 24-hour classic.

He could then have retired to race cars, fly planes and indulge his serious passions for wine and music. He was also an active trustee of the RAF Museum and the Maritime Air Trust, an honorary air commodore and a Freeman of the City of London. But instead he founded another petrol company, Proteus, in 1988 and ran that until he sold to Texaco in 1998. And, in 2002, he was back in the motor industry after being appointed chairman of Automotive Technik Holdings, a military- vehicle manufacturer with lucrative British army contracts.

In the car world, he was a constant presence on the historic racing scene as well as a shrewd trader in collectors' cars.

Giles Chapman