And I'm talking sailing. Maybe I was a less proficient navigator than most but I recall a few episodes of that sinking feeling when I realized my navigation had failed me. The most epic were down south off the coast (even I knew where I was in the ICW). Once coming into Key Biscayne after an overnight off the coast, on a nasty night, trying to thread a channel with a fierce current running to make it more fun, I finally threw up my hands and told my wife I had no idea where we were. Sure I knew about where we were(you could see the lights of Miami), within a few miles, but that was useless as we ran out of water all around us. I knew where we were the next day when the sun came up. We were not far from a house on stilts.

And then Loran problems off the Bahamas, oh man, I don't want to go there again. I don't miss disco either.