If you have been a mariner/boater/skipper for a long time you certainly have a memory of a time when you pushed your luck and it almost cost you your life. You survived, but only because you kept your wits about you, knew what to do, and survived. So, here's your chance to relate "that one time" to the rest of us. For me, it was a time in the 60's when I was about 13 or 14 years old. We had a cottage on Lake Huron and I spent my summers on my Alcort Sailfish. That boat and I were like a part of each other I was so familiar with how it handled. I was out one day with my girlfriend just cruising along with a moderate wind of about 10-15kts. Perfect for a Sailfish. We were about 1/2 mile or so offshore when all of a sudden the wind just died. I had been around water and sailed enough to know that was not a good sign. As I looked over my shoulder to the north I could see the reason the wind died. There was a storm front that stretched all across the horizon. It was still a ways off but I figured we had zero chance of getting to shore. The winds didn't frighten me as I'd sailed in some pretty stout winds. What scared the bejesus out of me was the lightening. I dropped the mast and lashed the mast, spar and boom to the hull using the mainsheet. Then we flipped the boat over so the metal parts would be beneath the boat. We tied ourselves off using another line and, wearing only our ski belts (remember those?) we floated about 25' away from the boat. We held onto each other for about 30 minutes in hellatious winds with 3'-4' seas and whitecaps until the storm blew over. Afterwards we hoisted the sails and sailed back to shore. Boy did we ever catch hell for being out there in that storm. It had blown down some trees, blew the covers off some boat lifts and just made a mess of things. No amount of explaining how "safe" we made ourselves would pacify our parents, but I knew in my heart that what I'd done had made us safer. Next?