Heading to Bonemass. Realized we were surrounded by plains but noticed a small break in the land. Thought it might be a gap between two separate islands. I was wrong. By that point I had no choice but to rip through it at full sail and pray. I did not die for my mistake, and it was difficult to impress upon my friend just how lucky we were to not have been murdered.
I’ve lost track of how many times I have grounded my boat on the plains, in the fog, at night. Just merrily mapping a coastline and then “crunch”, now we’re scrambling to not die.