My grandfather. 1985. He was teaching a cousin to ski as I was riding in one of the rear facing seats in his I/O. After the skier got up, my grandfather kept looking back over his shoulder at the skier yelling, "arms straight, knees bent!" I couldn't help but think that he wasn't watching where we were going. We crashed through an elevated walkway to a dock, jumped the sea wall, and perfectly t-boned a tree about 50 feet on shore. I was catapulted out into the mud unharmed. My grandfather suffered a broken leg. Judging by the shrapnel of the dock, we are lucky nobody was killed. Needless to say, I wouldn't ride in the boat with him for a long time after that. I know there's a pic of the carnage in an old family photo album somewhere. I'll have to upload it if I can find it.