Delivery in Port Grimaud in South France
The spring of 2001 was full of all sorts of preparations: quitting the job, getting the house ready for rent, buying gear for the boat, getting School in a Box (actually the Calvert School correspondence course) for the kids’ upcoming school years.

In June 2001, our new boat, an X-442 christened “Exuberance”, was finished and delivered to Port Grimaud, France. We rented a house in Port Grimaud and enjoyed our final weeks with unlimited electricity, water and laundry on the premises. On August 1st, we set sail for Corsica.

Crusing in the Mediterranean
Corsica was striking in its natural beauty. We visited numerous spectacular ports, including Calvi and Bonifacio, with its dramatic limestone cliffs and constantly entertaining dance of boats competing for space in the tiny harbor. From there, we sailed south to Sardinia, where we discovered paradise in the Maddalena islands off the tip of Sardinia.

From Sardinia, and a charming little village called Stintina that was hosting an antique wooden boat regatta, we sailed west for the Balearic island of Menorca. There, we discovered the beautiful city of Ciudadella, which reminded us of Florence, with its regal architecture and warm pink hues.

Also on Menorca, we had our All-Time Top Anchoring Experience, wherein we motored into the very narrow Cala Covas, quietly dropped the anchor while still motoring forward, and swung around it perfectly so that our stern was just off the rocky shore. We still get misty-eyed thinking about it. Of course, the operative word here is “quietly”, a word not often associated with our anchoring maneuvers. Cala Covas was stunning, a cove dotted with pre-historic caves, some of which are still inhabited.

11 September away from home
The next day, of course, the world that we had all lived in was blasted to pieces and the World Trade Center crumbled to the ground. Thus began a period in our lives through which we basically sleepwalked, and we seriously thought of returning to the US. We managed to make it to Gibraltar, and by then, some newfound friends had mounted a full-fledged campaign to get us to sail with them to the Canaries.

We had an incredible passage to Lanzarote, with following seas, 15-20 knots of wind over the stern, and a brilliant full moon. We also caught our first and only fish, an 8-inch long tuna that promptly stank up the cockpit until the resident sushi eater made breakfast out of it.

Preparing for the Atlantic Rally
Preparing for the ARC in Las Palmas was a crazy time, trying to get all the systems ready. Of course, 220 other boats were doing the same, so electricians and metalworkers were in high demand. Finally, the big day arrived, and what a scene it was. Each boat departed with its own signature farewell.

Our favorite was the boat from Scotland that cast off its lines and left the marina with a crewmember on the foredeck in full traditional Scottish regalia playing the bagpipes. That brought a standing ovation from everyone. Music and horns and voices filled the air as we cast off our lines. It was an extraordinary moment for all of us. And then as we motored by the throngs of people on the jetties, we thought, “Whoa, this is it! We can’t get off now, can we?”

Winter in the Caribbean
By the time January was underway and we were hopping down the island chain, we realized that we should just stay “out” for the entire school year. Grenada was by far the highlight of the winter. By then, the circle of “buddy boats” had grown to a pretty large number, and we threw party after party Exuberance, complete with decklights flashing and obnoxiously loud music like “Mambo #5” blaring from the cockpit speakers. It was tough to keep the kids focused on school, as folks would come by in their dinghies, offering to take them out inner-tubing at 11am. Among our favorite islands were Petit St. Vincent, les Saintes, and of course St. Barts.

We left Virgin Gorda at the end of April bound for Bermuda. It was an incredibly difficult passage at first, with the boat crashing through waves on a very fast reach. We had to close all the windows and the cabin quickly became a sauna. Numerous Lau-Hansens were heard to say that they would never make another passage again. In spite of all the sloshing around, we made Bermuda in great time and tied up in St. George’s just before a gale hit.

Heading back home
In early June, after weeks of waiting for a good weather window, we finally sailed out of St. George’s Harbor. On the first night, a yacht only a couple miles ahead of us was struck by lightning that fried all its electronics and sent its compass spinning in circles. Then, the yacht behind us was completely knocked down in a 45-knot squall. Through it all, we sailed blithely on in the Bubble Boat Exuberance. But the weather was really impressive. Clouds raced across the horizon as if in time-lapse photography. When we hit the Gulf Stream, the seas were, in technical terms, yucky. We were grateful to get across, even if it did mean pulling out the wool hats and long underwear the very night we had showered in our bathing suits in the cockpit.

About 200 miles off Newport, we did a quick horizon sweep to ensure all was clear and suddenly realized we were coming up on a vast field of lobster pots. We thought we could avoid it by bearing off a few degrees, but it became quickly obvious that the lobster pots were truly moving targets. Someone shouted, “Those aren’t lobster pots, they’re dorsal fins!” We were in the midst of about 50 huge sharks swimming languidly on the surface. The next day, we were approaching Newport with mounting excitement. When we recognized the Newport bridge through the haze, we were elated. We just kept repeating over and over, “We did it! We sailed to America!”

A one year trip
Certainly, it would be a comfortable boat for a family of four to… do what? Cruise the Mediterranean? Cross the Atlantic? Live on for a year? At the time, nothing could have been further from our minds. But our dreams expanded to fit the boat, and it turned out to be a match made in heaven.

The snowball started to roll when our X-Yacht dealer, Tom Pilkington, said sure, we could take delivery of the boat in France instead of the US. From there, things just started to fall into place. Our original plan was to cruise the Med for the summer and then ship the boat back to the US that fall. Then a friend asked why we weren’t sailing it home ourselves. We checked out the ARC’s website, saw pictures of cruising kids frolicking with Santa Claus in St. Lucia, and we were hooked.

A couple of months cruising the Med quickly morphed into a full-blown sabbatical year cruising. It was not hard selling our sons Kevin (12) and Matthew (7) on the prospect of sailing for a year, and they were intrigued by the idea of school on a boat with Mom and Dad.

Harley Davidson week in Majorca
We moved on to Majorca, Ibiza and Formentera. In Majorca, we had the distinct pleasure of rearranging the stern of the boat upon arrival. It was all very mysterious, but somehow the bowline came loose and gas dock avenged itself on the stern by taking a large bite out of it. Fortunately, there was (yes!) an X-Yachts office in Palma de Majorca, and they happily arranged to have it repaired for us.

We moved on to Ibiza, surely the most entertaining of all the ports we visited. It happened to be Harley Davidson Week while we were there, and we were treated to a panorama of pierced middle-aged Europeans in leather garb that covered only strategic body parts.

At one point, we were in a café having lunch when a “gentlemen’s magazine” moved in with their model of the month and started a photo shoot on the quai right in front of us. “Cool!” said the kids as they munched their French fries and contemplated the view. Score one for broadening their puritanical American horizons.

We will always remember the sunset of our last night on Ibiza, for it was absolutely spectacular, the sun burning a fiery red as it sank into the sea, casting the whole sky in luminous pink hues. It was the night of September 10, 2001.

Security in top
Well, that question was almost answered that evening, when in 20 foot following seas and a 35-knot gust, one of our crewmembers was nearly swept overboard during a maneuver. Fortunately, his harness functioned perfectly, and he was fine. The next morning, visibly shaken, he gave us the contact information for his mother, “in case I die”. We reassured him that everyone would be fine, but in truth, the conditions were pretty rough the first few days. Exuberance handled beautifully in the toughest of times, and we developed a profound confidence in her abilities. She has never let us down.

We placed 4th in our class
We crossed the Atlantic in 16 marvelous days. We had fun, we laughed, we cooked great meals, we talked to our friends on the radio, we fished (incessantly and unsuccessfully), and we were treated to the most awesome spectacles of nature. The nights were astounding, with stars leaping out of the sky. The sunrises left us all speechless, they were so beautiful.

As the islands of St. Lucia and Martinique rose up out of the ocean, our excitement grew, but so did a sort of regret that this tremendous adventure was almost over. We rounded the point of St. Lucia on December 11th and sailed across the finish line heeled over to the rail, with music blaring, and all of us literally jumping up and down (some leaping overboard into the crystal clear Caribbean water). During the ARC award ceremony, we were surprised to learn that we had placed 4th in our class.

Many friendship were made
It was an excellent adventure from every point of view. We consider ourselves privileged to have lived in the cruising community for a year and to have met so many fascinating people. We knew enough to expect gorgeous vistas and spectacular natural beauty during our year off, but to have been blessed with the friendship of other cruisers was an unexpected bonus and something we will cherish all our lives. The children survived their academic year unscathed, despite draconian parent teachers and a “floating” (literally) schedule.

“Exuberance” – our best friend
As for our boat, Exuberance, we can only say that she has become our best friend. She consistently outperformed our expectations and forgave our errors. We had heard that the most important quality in a cruising boat is speed, and we could not agree more. Speed truly does translate into safety, and lucky are the few who can cruise fast and comfortably. On the water, you are always racing the elements.

In this regard, there is only one voice on the radio that consistently can keep you out of trouble, and it belongs to Herb Hilgenberg. At any given time, Herb has hundreds if not thousands of sailors whose safety is literally in his hands. He is on the radio (12,359kHz) every night, courteous, professional and above all, correct about the weather. We and all of our cruising friends are simply amazed by his generosity of spirit and we are all grateful for his invaluable help.

Waiting for new adventures
At the moment, Exuberance is on the hard, shivering in the cold and waiting for this frigid New England winter to give way to spring. We cannot wait to get her back into the water where she belongs and sail away again for new horizons, whether they be the other side of Long Island Sound, or who knows, perhaps one day the other side of the Pacific.

Candace Lau-Hansen