The following article is about “Max” Aitken. He was great friends with Dick Nye of “Carina”, Bill Snaith of “Figaro”, Norrie Hoyt, Uffa Fox. All men of enormous charm. I came to know him through these men.
It is an accumulation of thoughts that cause me to publish this now. I am certain all of you have been following the restructuring of the Olympic classes for sailing and of course the America’s Cup. Almost everyone involved in sailing at these levels is a professional. None of the aforementioned men were. I have purposely not offered commentary on the recent events in sailing as I find it has strayed so far from what I knew. The only grand prix sailing is at a professional level. It is dry ,methodical, disciplined. I understand the necessity to compete at the level that now exists. But where is the fun? Where are the characters?
Max never bragged about his accomplishments; He even refused to use the title “Lord Beaverbrook” because he did not want to behave in a way that he felt the title required. (neither did he renounce it in the case his son might wish to use it.)
I am fully aware that time can not be reversed. But where is the fun?
” NOBLESSE OBLIGE “
(From the TORONTO TELEGRAM, May 2nd 1942) – British social custom lays great emphasis on the obligation of the sons of privileged families to serve the State with distinction., This trait, which may be summed up in the phrase “noblesse oblige,” is the sole justification for privilege. If privilege is accepted as something which lays a special obligation upon its possessors, it is not unqualified privilege, but merely the granting of special advantages in the expectation of better results measured in terms of public service.
In wartime Britain the butcher boy and the civil servant, the bank clerk and the scion of an ancient house, each is pulling his weight. For some reason or other it comes as a surprise to people on the North American Continent that the sons of “the idle and pampered rich,” or the “decadent aristocracy,” should distinguish themselves in the dirtiest jobs. This surprise is due, perhaps, to the lack of a powerful national tradition of public service and the failure of the opportunist rich to instill into their offspring a recognition of the trustee nature of wealth and privilege.
These reflections are prompted by recent reports of the distinguished service rendered by such men as Lord Louis Mountbatten, Lord Lovat and recently by young Max Aitken, son of Lord Beaverbrook, who is a wing commander in the Royal Air Force. Wing Commander Aitken has already won the Distinguished Flying Cross and on Thursday night led the fighter squadron which, shot down four out of eight German raiders and scored a personal victory over a Dornier “80.”
Wing Commander Max Aitken, D.F.C., is not a member of a noble house of ancient lineage, but Lord Beaverbrook has brought up his sons in the British tradition. While it is fashionable now to sneer at the “old school tie” and attribute to it all the weaknesses which are found just as rampant in the other democracies where “old school ties” are not to be found, there is obviously something to be said for a system which produces capable and valiant leaders from wealthy and privileged homes.
Norrie Hoyt, teacher, shipmate, mentor. A wonderful intelligent, engaging, kind man with a tireless curious mind. My English teacher at St. George’s School, with whom I sailed my first Bermuda Race. He was probably responsible for my enduring interest in photography. He forced me into an orderly mind.
Norrie wrote a book titled “Addicted to Sail” a charming little book in which his enthusiasm pours out on the reader.
At school his apartment was always full of students, Norrie and his wife never seemed to mind. They made students feel welcome and cared for. To this day I do not know how they managed. English class was always stories of sailing which kept us captivated.
When Sail Magazine was started almost every cover the first ten years were photographs taken by Norrie.
Norrie held a Phd in English Literature and his swimming records stood for years at Yale.
