I was once in Costa Rica and after trying to surf for nearly 4 hours, killing my body, I took up a boogie board. I ended up laying on it and relaxing far from shore. After 10-15 mins I looked up and I was a good half a mile from shore.
I was already dead tired and I had to swim all the way in against many waves pulling me out. My body was in full panic, I prayed to the ocean for help and I swear I caught two huge waves in a row pulling me all the way up to the beach. In the fact the last wave pulled me so far I ended up near people sun bathing.
It was my wedding day.
We were getting married in Cape D'Or in Nova Scotia. I couldn't sleep, and I was up early, around 6am, and decided to walk the grounds at the B&B (which also served as a lighthouse) to determine the best place to exchange vows. I was all alone as my husband was sleeping soundly. The tide was coming in. The sun was rising. It was beautiful.
Keep in mind, this is backwoods Nova Scotia, there's no guardrails between the nice grassy bluffs and sheer cliffs that plummet hundreds of feet into the ocean with jagged rocks.
The grass was covered in the morning dew, and as I walked towards the main point of the land, I slipped. I landed on my back and started slipping. I did what I thought was reasonable and flipped onto my stomach and tried to get as much surface area with the grass as I could. Down and down I slipped and FINALLY after what felt like ages I came to a stop.
I looked up, and very carefully crawled up the hill. I was literal inches from going over the cliffs. Any more speed and I would have been toast.
And no one would have known, for awhile until they found my body. I didn't tell my now spouse until we were safely back at home.