Ambre Hasson: Building her own way across the Atlantic
Self-made. Fearless. Unstoppable. At 32, Franco-American skipper Ambre Hasson is part of a bold new generation of offshore sailors—hands-on, determined, and unafraid to get gritty in pursuit of their dreams.
Now based in Lorient, the beating heart of French offshore racing, Ambre has spent the past two years preparing relentlessly for the 2025 Mini Transat—a legendary solo Atlantic crossing in a 6.5-meter boat. From rebuilding her own vessel to navigating the complex world of sponsorship, she’s built her campaign from the keel up—and her drive, warmth, and unshakable ambition shine through every step of the way.
Let’s be honest: moving across the Atlantic on a whim is already bold. Doing that and launching a full-blown racing project—and qualifying for one of the toughest offshore challenges out there—in under two years? That’s something else entirely.
An eco-friendly collection to fund her Boulangère Mini Transat 2025
When we met Ambre in 2024, the connection was immediate. Her story, her energy, and her do-it-yourself spirit felt like a mirror of our own journey—and her American roots and French base made her the perfect ambassador for our brand on both sides of the Atlantic.
Over the past few months, we’ve teamed up with Ambre to create something special: a line of sailbags made from the upcycled sails of her own Mini. Designed with her creative input, the collection captures both her personality and the colors of her freshly refitted boat.
A portion of every sale goes directly toward helping Ambre take on the Mini Transat.
As the start line draws nearer, we sat down with Ambre to catch up—sharing stories, reflecting on her wild ride so far, and discovering the meaning woven into the very sails that now carry both her dreams and our newest collection.
Can you introduce yourself? Where are you from, what’s your background, and how did you get into offshore racing and the Mini 6.50 circuit?
AH :I was born in Paris, grew up in central Virginia, and ended up in New York City working in tech after getting my degree in Economics. I had no sailing background. In 2020, I left NYC in a bit of a whirlwind—burned out and unsure of what was next—and landed in the Florida Keys. I started volunteering at a sailing school, where they taught me how to sail and let me live aboard one of their boats. That’s where it all began.
Sailing gave me something I didn’t even know I was looking for: stillness, freedom, and the deep self-reliance that only the sea demands. I was instantly hooked. I wanted to go further, push harder. That same year, the Vendée Globe was happening, and I discovered Pip Hare sailing solo around the world on a 60ft boat. I had never seen anything like it—it stirred something in me. It was the kind of adventure I didn’t know I’d been aching for. When I told my instructors I wanted to do something like that, they smiled and said, “Well… there are a few steps before you get there.”
The Mini Transat 2025 is coming up fast. Has this been a lifelong dream or a more recent ambition that became obvious?
AH : Definitely a recent one. I didn’t grow up dreaming about this stuff—but once I saw Pip, I started reading everything I could about solo offshore sailing and came across the Mini Transat. It felt like the rawest, most real version of what I loved about the ocean: just you, your boat, and the sea. No fluff. Just pure connection and challenge.
In early 2023, I bought a Mini in France, moved across the Atlantic, and jumped into it all—racing, learning, messing up, growing. I went through the qualifying season: tons of miles, beautiful friendships, breakdowns, breakthroughs, and finally my solo 1,000-mile qualifier. That’s when everything went sideways—a breaking wave caught me just outside the harbor at the finish, pushed me onto the rocks, and split the boat open. I had to jump overboard and swim to shore. It was heartbreaking. But the dream didn’t die. If anything, it became more clear: rebuild and go again.
This race is as much mental as physical. How are you preparing for the challenge? Any routines or tricks to stay grounded?
AH : The mental game is everything. Being alone out there means facing all of yourself—your fears, your doubts, your grit. My preparation has really been about learning to trust myself, especially when things get chaotic.
I solo sail as much as I can. It brings up everything—doubt, fear, awe—and you just have to be with it. I try to stay grounded in the basics: eat, hydrate, sleep when I can, and keep adapting. You can’t control the ocean, but you can control how you respond. And the more you strip away, the more you find out who you are.
You rebuilt your boat yourself, which is no small feat. Can you share a bit about that journey?
AH : After the wreck, I had to start from scratch. I found another boat—No. 618—semi-abandoned in Finland. I brought her back to France and over the last two years, I’ve been bringing her back to life. This past winter, I did a massive five-month refit—took everything back to bare carbon and rebuilt it all.
I’m not a boatbuilder. But I was determined. And thankfully, I had amazing friends who showed up on the hard days. Every inch of this boat has passed through my hands. That gives me a huge sense of trust—when I cross the Atlantic, I’ll know her inside and out.
There’s also something really special about bringing an older boat back to life. She’s fast, responsive, and has this magic in her. I think we’re often too quick to chase new things, instead of restoring and honoring what already exists.
What inspired your collection with 727 Sailbags, and what story does the recycled sail tell?
AH : Over the past two years, I saved all my sails, hoping to do something with them. They’ve seen thousands of miles, soaked with salt and memory. I couldn’t throw them away—they carried me through some of my most powerful moments at sea.
Teaming up with 727 Sailbags gave them a second life. Each bag is stitched with a story—seeing Fastnet Rock emerge in 35 knots, night sailing under stars with a glowing bioluminescent wake, or crashing on the rocks just minutes from shore. They’re artifacts of this wild journey. And now, they get to keep traveling—with whoever carries them next.
You share your journey openly on social media. What message do you want to send to those who follow and support you, and maybe dream of taking on a bold adventure too?
AH : You don’t need a perfect plan to begin. I had no clue what I was doing when I started—just a pull I couldn’t ignore. I’ve failed. I’ve fallen hard. But I’ve also learned more about myself than I ever thought possible.
My hope is that by sharing all of it on my social media—the joy, the mess, the rebuilds—it reminds people that they can go after whatever’s calling them. Even if it makes no sense on paper. Whether your ocean is real or symbolic, it’s worth stepping into the unknown. That’s where the magic happens.
