What were some of your scariest moments?

[Steve McMahon]

A fun thread, brings back some memories.
Mid 80’s, single and fearless, I had a 26’ 1927 Bush Island sailboat with a make and break engine and a more modern 4hp outboard as an auxiliary. Late fall I was bringing her from Mahone Bay NS to Bridgewater NS to haul her for the winter. A distance if I recall of around 50 Nautical miles. I left early in the morning. A foggy day with a light breeze, motoring most of the way. Navigation was chart, compass, and watch- bouy to bouy. Almost out of Mahone bay heading for Hells Racket’s I was sure I was on course and in clear water. Suddenly a rock appeared where there shouldn’t be any! My heart was in my throat as I was about to toss the anchor and figure things out when the rock rolled over and looked at me, it was a friggin seal.

[AndyG]

Having moved to Scotland, in 1993, I was living out near Aberfoyle, yet working in Glasgow some thirty miles away. One morning, on my usual 80mph bit down a straight, empty road (on the A81), to a smooth bend to the left, and before another straight section, I saw a man at the bend frantically waving at me.

"Why would you even do that?" I thought. "That's dangerous."

I rounded the bend to see a cow in the middle of the road, directly ahead.

Hitting the brakes, the car span. Twice. Anticlockwise. And stopped sideways on, somehow still on the road, with the cow about ten metres ahead of me, a bemused look on her face.

I did a three point turn, inched past the cow, and carried on.

Later, arriving at work, I took a strong tea.

Andy

[Steve McMahon]

Having moved to Scotland, in 1993, I was living out near Aberfoyle, yet working in Glasgow some thirty miles away. One morning, on my usual 80mph bit down a straight, empty road (on the A81), to a smooth bend to the left, and before another straight section, I saw a man at the bend frantically waving at me.

"Why would you even do that?" I thought. "That's dangerous."

I rounded the bend to see a cow in the middle of the road, directly ahead.

Hitting the brakes, the car span. Twice. Anticlockwise. And stopped sideways on, somehow still on the road, with the cow about ten metres ahead of me, a bemused look on her face.

I did a three point turn, inched past the cow, and carried on.

Later, arriving at work, I took a strong tea.

Andy

That made me grin. Driving to school in my 76 pinto on a gravel road around 1982 also going way too fast I crested a hill and faced a couple of cows on the road. I dropped into first, piled on the brakes, and the jake brake and managed to avoid them. In the manoeuvring somehow the rack and pinion steering failed. I was only about a half a mile from home so I walked back to the farm, grabbed a tractor, and hauled the car home. A couple of hours work (I had a few spare Pintos behind the barn) and I made it to school by the afternoon.

[bamamick]

When I was very young I was attacked by a big dog, and to defend myself I hit it as hard as I could with a can of gas I was carrying. It put him down, but I don't know if he lived or not. I turned and ran back home and my dad came back with me to talk to the people. Strangely enough, it wasn't that scary. I just reacted, I guess.

Inhaled chlorine gas once. No fun. Hospitalized with scarred lungs.

Got my hands and face burned in a chemical fire. That wasn't any fun, either.

I came very, very close to drowning twice while sailing. The second time I am almost sure I would have drowned if not for a fellow named Lou Nady, a well-known Finn sailor, who pulled me into his Finn and got me settled down enough to sail his boat in while he swam over, crawled on to my Megabyte dinghy, and sailed it in.

I could go on and on, honestly. I am sixty-four years old now, and have had my fair share of non-military adventures. It's been an interesting life.

Mickey Lake

[hawkeye54]

Mid 1970's (winter), I was returning to Great Lakes Naval Training Center after a weekend in Chicago, Northbound on the Tollway, I was passed by a speeding Greyhound bus, which lost control and did a 360° spin (under the Fred Harvey restaurant overpass) and darn near batted me into the ditch in the process - the bus continued on as though nothing had happened. [Bald tires and excessive speed thru snow / ice / slush on the part of the bus ]

[hawkeye54]

As Mickey said in post # 39, it''s been an interesting life ( 75 years in my case )




Rick

[John B]

I was walked all over by several people when I was 9. A dumping wave came in and held me on the bottom, adults stepped on me, didn't like that much.
Nothing like the terror of getting the midnight phone call to be told my son was on an operating table in Bali after an accident, and finding an insurance outfit called Allianz was holding up the surgery . If I was a billionaire I'd destroy every bit of that company to this day for what they put us through.
He made it, didn't go home in a box like so many do.

[WI-Tom]

My climbing partner and I got lost on a route and darkness was coming on quickly. So we had to rappel down in the dark. On one pitch he went first and I watched the piton we'd driven flex under his moving weight. Then I had to go... I slid down that rope as smoothly as I possibly could. All the while imagining that piton flexing and pinging free.

We were both very grateful to reach the bottom and never got caught like that again.

Jeff

Sounds too familiar. Off-route on the descent of a peak we summited at sunset, rapping off old slings, and tried to pull a stuck rap rope from a tiny stance, not tied in, maybe 200' up the cliff. Pulled off a bunch of rocks from 40' up or so. One of them (the size of a basketball) landed on my left thigh (my foot was propped on a small hold, thigh parallel to the ground) and just stopped there, sitting on my leg.

As others have noted, there was no fear in the moment. In fact, time stopped completely. I had time to do a thorough mental assessment (I'm right in the channel; I'll likely be hit; if I'm hit, I'll likely be knocked off the cliff and die; my partner has another rope and enough gear to finish the descent without me) and it was only after I was done thinking it through that time started up again. An amazing experience.

And the rock landed on muscle, not bone. I was limping for a week or so, but no structural damage. We even managed a 15-pitch climb on another peak after my leg healed up a bit before hiking out.

Tom

[John B]

Sailing has had its moments over the years. The windy days are often challenging but I do remember rounding Cape Brett in light wind in the 80s as scary. The breeze dropped out and even though we'd given it plenty of room the tide and current and swell began to wash us in. We held on but in the end I rigged the dinghy up with its 2 hp and began a tow, 2 hp and 41 ft.. 8 tons or so , wasn't too quick. 10 minutes later the breeze came in and all was sweet, I was very relieved.

The most recent near scary time, let's call it tense instead, was leaving Oneata Island in the Lau group with instruments and breaking waves being the guides.
It wasn't done lightly, we had 2 boats in company and had plotted and waypointed the hazards on the way in, so between us we had several nav sources. But they're spooky places when they have these mostly hidden reefs right out 3 miles from the island. This pass then had two coral heads a hundred or 2 metres apart just inside the atoll. So 10 pm , no moon , overcast, 20 knots broad reach, we just roared down through there. Once past the coral heads the pass showed the pass bracketed with white water, and we were free...
Drawing, not a track , but you get the idea.
Screenshot_20220627-135945_Earth.jpg

[Hugh MacD]

Mid '60s halfway up a multi-pitch climb where my cousin was teaching me how to lead. I'd set three pitons (in those days), clipped an etrier into the last one and had called for tension to reach up and set the next pin when the one I was hanging from hit me in the chest. The next 2 pulled out and I took a fairly big whipper that cracked a rib and a vertebrae...had to climb the four pitches we'd done and hike the gear out. Learned to never put your pitons in the same crack, though.

[ron ll]

Maybe today. Halfway from gig harbor to Vashon noticed overheating. Shut down and check the obvious, no luck. Called BoatUS at 11:00am, got a towboat at 2:30 after drifting toward Narrows on a big flood. Could start the engine and run for 3 minute spurts to keep us near Gig Harbor. Sunday afternoon Bayliner cowboys opening it up right beside us as they try to get on step leaving Gig Harbor. Finally towed from there to Shilshole at 5 knots, 4-1/2 hours hand steering behind the tow. Home having a martini now. Guessing a water pump.

[L.W. Baxter]

jeez ron! glad that worked out.

hand steering snoose...like with your hand in the water?

[ron ll]

jeez ron! glad that worked out.

hand steering snoose...like with your hand in the water?

The towboat skipper said just center the rudder and leave it alone. Didn’t work. Snoose wants to take off to one side or the other. On one of the side wanders, the tow bridle ripped the big bronze port fairlead off the rail and shot it 50’ in the air. Lucky it didn’t hit anyone.

[Jack Loudon]

I thought of a time when I was spooked, hiking by myself in the Cascades, an off-trail route to a lake very close to the north face of Mount Stuart but on an adjacent ridge and separated by a ravine. Before reaching the lake I came across a fresh kill; a partially eaten deer and fresh animal scat. Above me among the rocks and small trees I got the occasional glimpse of a mountain lion who was certainly following me. I was unnerved, but tried to convince myself that I wasn't prey since the lion had eaten recently, though I was definitely being watched. There were no people for miles and I had no weapon except my hiking stick. I calmed myself and continued to the lake where I made camp and saw no more of the mountain lion, but I couldn't shake the thought he was still keeping tabs on me. Then before dark I heard an overwhelming noise, and saw (and felt) a good sized chunk of Mount Stuart had broken loose above me and rumbled 2-3000 feet down to the ravine below. I walked out the next day, down the ravine instead of the way I came up, to look at the avalanche debris (some boulders as big as school busses) and to avoid the mountain lion.

I may not have been in serious danger, but that whole episode creeped me out, like the gods were messing with me. I did go back the following year, and was caught in the biggest thunder & lightening show I've ever experienced. I took the hint never went back after that.

[epoxyboy]

Whitewater kayaking as a novice in a fairly low grade river, when I tipped over. I didn't have a bombproof roll, but it wasn't so bad that I felt the need to bail out without at least giving it a go. Which is how I came to drift into a stand of half submerged willow trees, and get a bit wedged. Well f**k, this is how it ends.
And then I popped out, to this day I have no idea how. That's about the only horse in life I've never got back onto - took up sea kayaking instead.

Pete

[bamamick]

Another one worth mentioning because it was my fault and affected someone I care about very much: the day after Christmas one year we towed our 16' power boat to Biloxi and launched it, then ran over to the marina at the Isle of Capri casino to hook up to my newly acquired 5.5 metre. The plan was to tow her home to our yacht club in Mobile that day, and I had it figured out that we should arrive right around dusk. We had some extra gas in cans, food, extra clothes and blankets. All that.

The day didn't start out too great, as the boat was actually aground on a bed of old oyster shells when I stepped onto her, but by rocking her and pulling her with the motor boat we eventually got her off and into deep water. The tow over towards Dauphin Island to the east of us was as perfect as one might have hoped. The seas weren't bad and the temperatures were fairly tolerable. But when we got near enough to the island that we might have popped in there and tied up for the night, I resisted the idea. I mean, we had hours of daylight left, and were so close, right?

As we skirted Dauphin Island and turned north I realized my mistake almost immediately, as spray began coming aboard almost at once as we pushed our way through a building north breeze. Still, I wanted to push on. We could make it. Once we were past Fowl River we would be close enough that the lights we'd see would guide us home even if it did take a bit longer than we expected. Eventually it became clear that I had misjudged, and that we would not make it to our harbor at all. The only other option was to duck into Fowl River and tie up at a place near the bridge, but neither one of us had ever been in there and didn't know the channel at all.

Thankfully we found the channel alright and made it to this restaurant that's right alongside the bridge. It was very cold by now, the north wind having picked up quite a bit, but I got both boats tied alongside one another and felt alright about things, until my wife said 'Mickey, I can't see out of one of my eyes'. I freaked out. I took her arm and led her into the restaurant, which was closed or closing, I can't remember which, and sat her down so that I could go find a phone. The nice ladies inside brought her some coffee and talked to her while I used their phone to call one of my good friends at the plant where I worked, which was only a couple of miles away.

My buddy left the plant and came to pick us up, both of us as quiet as church mice, me in my guilt and my wife in her misery, and he took us to the car we had left at the club. My wife refused going to the emergency room, so we just went home, where a hot shower and a good night's sleep did both of us a world of good. Her vision in that eye was cloudy for a few days, but eventually returned to normal.

I thought that I had thought of everything. The weather that came in on us was just the leading edge of a front, but I knew about that. I guess the fact that the 5.5 was stuck on the bottom when we got there cost us some time, and that had a lot to do with the messed up timing.

I went back down the next afternoon to check on the boats (the front had arrived in force by then, and we weren't going anywhere that day), and some guy with the restaurant came down and told me to get my 'god damned' boats off of his dock! I tried to explain that we were mariners in need, and that I would be glad to pay him for storage for a few days, but he was really very nasty about it. The exact opposite of the ladies of the night before. In the end he told me to get them moved as soon as I could, and a couple of days later, after the front died out, my wife, sister-in-law, niece and nephew went down and towed the boat over to our club.

To this day, if I even mention that 5.5 metre my wife scowls at me. I have made a lot of ....unwise....decisions in my life regarding watercraft, but putting her in danger like that ranks way up there on the list. I loved the boat, but I should have come up with a better plan.

Mickey Lake

[hawkeye54]

One of the scariest weeks ever was in 1986, when my territory partner suggested a white-water rafting trip - on the Rio Grande, starting at Taos, NM. How bad could that be, you ask? - See the first item in post # 30 - I even have pictures, but you NEVER saw anyone bail water out of a raft careening down river so fast and so urgently ! ! ! ( Me and that 5 gallon bucket, we were ' one against the river water' )



Rick

[John Smith]

On the aforementioned trip up Long Island Sound, we left Port Jefferson and planned to just go to the next harbor, which we somehow missed. FOG was coming, so we decided we best anchor where we were. As we're figuring out a riding light, the coast guard pulls up.

They immediately yell over their bull horn, "Where's Port Jeff?". We pointed and wished them well.

[The Ranger]

Deanne and I were joyriding in the 14' Tin Skiff on the Mississippi and noticed an upbound tow closing in on a 36' steel houseboat and sounding continual blasts on the horn. We threw a line to the houseboat but both of us knew we couldn't tow it against the current so headed down toward the tow. We just cleared the bow of the tow with the help of the bow wave. The skipper owned the ice cream stand on the next block; free cones until we moved away.

[Bill Fisher]

Prolly 2005 or so. Inside a +/- 3000 sf new house with a reported possible chimney fire, SS chimney enclosed in drywall. Looking for heat with a thermal imaging camera and not finding much. The radio stated blaring “evacuate, evacuate, evacuate” and the air horns of the fire trucks started blasting, also a signal to evacuate. In the moments it took us to get down the stairs and outside the house was fully involved. Modern energy efficient construction, 2*6 walls sheathed in 2” of styrofoam and vinyl siding. Guys outside said they saw a whiff of smoke coming out of the eves and in seconds fire leapt out of the eves and started to wrap around the house. That place was to the ground in minutes, almost like it was coated in gasoline. It certainly convinced me that wrapping a house in 2” of styrofoam is not a good idea.

Hard to believe how fast a fire can grow, even when you’re there to see it!
For me it was a basement fire, every bit as bad as the instructors said it would be. Although I had been active for several years, and made many responses, this was only the second serious fire I had fought and it was dark, hot and ugly. Me and the Chief’s kid were assigned backup, in our department that means protecting the egress, so we made entry and got out of the way so the other crews could go to work. Very quickly a mayday went out, one of the attack crew’s scba failed, and all hell broke loose. Me and my partner protected the egress but man was it hard to stick put and listen to all the maydays and help! help! helps! (the LT who’s scba failed did a fantastic job of self-rescue! I could not have).
(add in that I got lost for a minute, the nozzle got pushed out of hand and I lost direction on the hose (but I had a death grip on the hose so we figured it out))
Someone mentioned the nightmares later and sure enough that is what happened to me. I was scarred enough that day but it got worse later and is ultimately what pushed me to retire from active service. My son needs a father.

Bill

[The Q]

During the fire men's strike. 1977.-78
Military called into replace themWe are wearing
WW2 tin hat,
1950s string vest.and pants.
Uniform shirt.
1940s seaboot socks
Combat cabbage suit.
Boots DMS.

Putting a fire out in a scrap yard, I was between a burning building and a hedge.
When the hedge behind me caught fire.. in the hedge is the heating fuel tank for the building.
It was put the nozzle on spray and back the hell out of there..

[Hugh MacD]

Back when I was young and stupid (as opposed to old and stupid) I tended to drive my Triumph a bit too fast. Driving (quickly) down the Little Nestucca River Road in Oregon I had an opportunity to get around a log truck who obligingly slowed a bit and was waving me by on the one straight section of road. As I was about midway along the truck and doing 70-ish a pickup and camper popped onto the road headed in my land...not off a road...just out of the brush. I lifted and just pulled under the log load, matching speed with the drivers about three feet in front of me. When the camper was safely by I pulled out and stopped...a bit shaken. The log truck driver also pulled over to make sure I was OK. I think he was as rattled as I was. He said he was waiting for the "thump" and was surprised when it didn't come.

[Joe (SoCal)]

7:30 am this morning I'm enroute to return the old battery cores to the place I bought the new ones from, out in the desert. The fastest route is through the mountains along The Ortega Highway, a twisty one lane each way mountain road. This is the same road I took with the vespa out to Lake Elsinore. I'm driving like an old man about 45 mph not in any rush enjoying my morning coffee and NPR. The road winds up a mountain pass. There is almost no traffic in my direction but a bit of heavy traffic in the other. As I round a right hand bend ALL OF A SUDDEN I SEE ANOTHER BLACK JEEP ( almost a mirror image of mine ) CROSSED OVER THE DOUBLE YELLOW AND IS HEADING STRAIGHT AT ME AT 70+MPH !!!!! He was obviously traveling too fast to negotiate the turn and was forced into the opposing lane. Everything slowed down but I knew I didn't have enough time to even hit the breaks, which in hindsight would have been deadly. We were locked on for a head on collision at a combined speed of over 100 mph would be "significant". In that moment we were like two people on a sidewalk I moved left he moved to my left I moved right he moved right. On my right side was a sheer mountain wall with a little gully. With millisecond left I went left and he went right, dipped into the soft shoulder and back onto the road. WE MISSED EACH OTHER BY LESS THAN AN INCH.

I pulled over to the next turn out and got out of the car shaking and trembling at the near miss. I called Renee and willing to admit I kinda broke down and told her that I loved her. Thinking about the aftermath I knew t that speed in a head on collision I would most likely die, second options would be paralyzed or in a vegetative state.

Life is truly fleeting it can be over in a violent instant, be careful out there.

http://forum.woodenboat.com/showthre...ghlight=Ortega

[willin woodworks]

In the emergency with a raging C-Diff infection and overhearing the doctor tell my girlfriend that I might die tonight.

Anchored in the Pond on Block in a boat that I had only owned for 24 hours when a kick ass squall kicked up and I started dragging the anchor. I started the engine and tried to keep the pressure off the anchor rode but the swells and high tide were just too much. I dashed up forward with a pair of cushions and tied them to the end of the rode and tossed it over. Jogged in place for a bit until the Marine Patrol came along and escorted me to a town mooring.
Replaced all the ground tackle....

[Dan McCosh]

Curious thread. I've had a few moments when I could have lived or died--just luck. I was never scared at the time, as it didn't sink in how close I had come for a couple of days, or hours. I do have some attacks of acrophobia, which can result in paralyzing fear that can be immobilizing. Oddly, this usually comes on when working in the rigging near the top of the mast, which is about 65 feet off the water. It's an interesting experience, which I can mage to work through. As for car-misses, I was once camping alone in the Rockies. I drove off the road, finding a smallish empty spot to camp. Pitch dark, and I unrolled my sleeping bag and dozed off. I woke with a chipmunk on my feet, at the end of the bag. He disappeared instantly, which seemed odd. When I got up, I realized the end of my bag was about a foot from the edge of a 60-foot vertical cliff, which I hadn't seen in the dark, and had no idea was there.

[Andrew2]

I'm with Dan. Had some close shaves, but not been jelly kneed about it.
Had to swim quite a long way after being dumped by the boat, followed by the valve on my life jacket blowing out. So, on my back, thumb in tube, for about 400mtrs
Knackered, you bet, it was in March, so a bit cool.
Engine quit, as we were climbing out from an airfield in UK. Did the bad thing and turned back. Too low to do a circuit, so landed across the strip. Big hedge in the way, but the gear was on a manual system, so when we thought we might clear the hedge, banged it down. No damage to the a/c.
Not frightened while it was happening ( too busy!) and after..well, it worked out OK.
So, not frightened at the time. After, just considered the odds.

[Beowolf]

My mother left me with my middle sister while she went to pick up my youngest sister from dance. My sister suffered from an acute case of hydrocephalus that had left her physically and mentally handicapped, essentially an infant.

That year’s common cold had progressed to pneumonia. She had struggled for breath all afternoon but what could be done? I still don’t know what held my mother up when she picked up my sister, but a typically 45 minute trip pushed out to an hour and fifteen. I don’t remember all of it anymore. I remember trying to clear her throat with one of those bulb-style suction devices. I remember the transition from dim afternoon to dark evening, feeling alone, conflicted on what to do. Call 911? I didn’t know how billing or insurance worked. I knew we had insurance, but that money was always tight and mom hadn’t taken her that day, so what was right? The house was dark, but I didn’t want to get up to turn on a light. There was a syndicated sitcom on TV. I can’t remember what it was anymore, but I do remember that I couldn’t watch it again after that evening. I hated that show.

Mom came home. I asked her what we should do. She assured me that I’d done all right. I went to my room and sobbed. My sister was 13, I was 16.

The next day, I was called out of chemistry to report to the office. I walked through the door and saw Father Bob Deland talking to the school secretary.

“I’ll get my coat.”

I met him at his car and he gave me a ride home.

[bamamick]

I am glad you are alright, Joe. It is amazing how many times we could have almost been killed in an auto accident, but as you say, you miss by an inch and go on with your day. I have been preaching defensive driving to my kids for almost 25 years, and I think they have listened, but even that won't help you sometimes. Geez.

Something came to my mind while reading through these, and it's probably the silliest episode of pure unadulterated fear I have personally experienced. We were in a plant shutdown and we had our thermal oxidizers pulled apart for inspection and refractory work, and our procedure requires a 'responsible' person from the company follow up inside and do our own inspection after the contractors are finished. Everyone was extremely busy, and I wasn't doing much so I said I'd do it, and told the control room guys where I was going and what I was going to do. This is in the days before harnesses were required, or hole watches, so I was pretty much on my own, though I did have my radio.

I got inside and saw that there was a lot of refractory debris inside the burner ring up front, so I crawled on my hands and knees, got in the there and started throwing the stuff out so that I could pick it up and dispose of it once the burner was clean, and for some strange reason, it began to wear on my mind that that part of the machine normally ran at about 2000f, and I started getting more and more nervous until finally I broke, literally dove out of there onto the floor of the expansion chamber, completely covered in dust and dirt. I scrambled up and went to the manhole and stood there sucking in fresh air for a couple of minutes, and then I made myself go back inside and finish the job. Never in my life have I had an anxiety attack, but I guess that's what it was. For a few passing moments I was absolutely terrified, but I did force myself to go back and do what I'd come to do.

O.K., that's enough from me then.

Mickey Lake

[RichW]

In 1980 or so, I took a trip to the Great Adventure Wild Animal Park in central New Jersey. You know, this is the type of park that you drive your car through enclosures with loose wild animals. We were in my Fiat X1/9 - you know a pretty small sports car. We went through the section of the park with camels, zebras, giraffes etc.

We exited the grass eaters and went through the gate into the meat eaters. It was a warm spring day, and all the lions and tigers were lounging on top of some large rocks. We stopped to take photos, when one of the tigers noticed us and came over to the little Fiat. The tiger came right up to the passenger window and stared in at my girl friend. The tiger opened its mouth and pushed at the window, rocking the car. Then the tiger walked up to the right front and bit the tire - steering wheel jerked out of my hands and the tire went flat.

Girl friend was screaming. I tired moving the car, but the tire was completely flat. Honked the horn, tiger was unimpressed by the Fiat beep beep.
Then a park ranger drove up in his jeep, with a long pole with a cattle prod sticking out of the window. Tiger ran away.

We limped out the exit. Once outside the predators enclosure, I changed the destroyed tire for the spare. Steel belted Michelin with the tiger bite right through the steel belt. Just ripped apart. Great Adventure was good about it. They replaced the tire.

f9971168.jpg

[bamamick]

Beowolf: that is a heart-rending tale. I am so, so sorry. Mere words can not express it, I am afraid.

Mickey Lake

[Beowolf]

Beowolf: that is a heart-rending tale. I am so, so sorry. Mere words can not express it, I am afraid.

Mickey Lake

Thanks Mickey. I appreciate it.

I shared it because 33 years removed from it, I don’t recall the sadness. No anger or grief. Hers was a brutish and lonesome life. Even then, we knew her passing was a mercy.

But when I reflect on it, that fear feels as fresh as ever. It wasn’t an instant. It was prolonged, like a dream that you could wake up from.

I don’t know. Like most things, it’s just a piece we carry with us now.

[bluedog225]

Hang in there.

[Stiletto]

In my early days of motorcycling I remember running wide on a sweeping bend. There was a van coming the other way, I thought I was done for when one of the hippies in the front of the van threw her hands up and covered her face. I just kept leaning hard and rode through it and came out unscathed. After that I got into the habit of analyzing my near misses and they started to rapidly decline in number.

[Jack Loudon]

Beowolf: that is a heart-rending tale. I am so, so sorry. Mere words can not express it, I am afraid.

Mickey Lake

Yes; what Mickey Lake said.

[Jack Loudon]

More stupid than scary, though I was afraid for a while. I was by myself in my little sloop somewhere in Puget Sound, wing & wing, downwind in very light air. The boat was sailing itself, ghosting along nicely. Great time to jump in the dinghy, let out some line, and take a picture of the boat. So I did that. But in time the wind picked up and the dinghy was now moving at a good clip. Better grab the painter and haul myself in, pronto. But the painter was attached to the bow down at the water line and at the speed we were going, I could not move my weight forward to reach the painter without capsizing the dinghy. The main boat was now going pretty fast with nobody on board. Finally the wind let up a bit and I inched forward and grabbed the line. When I got back in the boat I took some time to contemplate the depths of my stupidity. If I'm ever foolish enough to do something like this again, I will attach a haul line to the painter a few feet in front of the bow, with the tail end in the dinghy.