Those that have run aground and those that will. I am now proudly part of the first group. No longer do I have the Cutlass of Damocles over my head (cutlass being what you call a sword when it goes to sea).
I ran aground in as noble a fashion as possible, avoiding some poor souls who were still "racing" if you can call drifting into the marina with no wind "racing". I cut a little closer to the breakwater than I wanted to keep from giving them any wake; I knew there was an epic low tide but I thought 20-30 feet was fine...whoops, not with my massive 4.5 foot draft.
The sails were already dropped (more on that later) so three of us leaned over the port side, I kicked the throttle, and off we went, my keel christened in mud.