Years ago, when I had time AND money...
The best boat is your best friends'. I learned that the hard way.
Late at night one time, I gave the wheel to my powerful SeaRay to my best friend after a couple cocktails at the Bridgewater restaurant where we'd moored on the intracoastal in Wrightsville, NC. He begged to drive it. I said it's low tide, you aren't familiar with where the channel has been dredged. "OK, you can drive your drunk azz in pitchblack to the end of the no wake zone."
Boaters know, "right on red to Miami", green on left going south.
@ 75 yards to the end of the no wake zone, Captain Ahab pulls the throttle back to max, throwing me, and our wives backwards.
He was headed left of the green as we were screaming at him. Sure enough, he hit the sandy bottom at 55 mph. The boat stopped inside of 10 feet. All but he, who had an abdominal implant of the steering wheel, were thrown out of the front of the boat into the frigid water.
I sold my boat with a cracked hull and he bought his own. He was still my best man at my worst wedding a few years later.