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It didn't hurt me any, but I almost got another guy. While commuting one foggy dark night to Tuckernuck some years back my crappy Loran acquired on the wrong peak putting me 1.5 miles off where I expected to be. Going fairly slow while looking for the bell buoy that wasn't there I ran my seacraft onto a sandbar and damn near hit a seriously pissed fly fisherman standing thigh deep off eel point. Missed him by about a dozen feet. If looks could kill I'd've been a goner. Neither of us said anything, I jumped out, pushed my self off, rebooted the loran, and went on my way.
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