I can attest to that, and that is a great way to characterize it!
In late September 1976, I was aboard the USS JFK heading up to the Arctic Circle for an exercise, my first time on a deployment, and that day,, in the afternoon, we had an F-14 go over the side due to a fuel control malfunction. I was sleeping in my plane next to the waist cat when it went over.
When that Tomcat went over the side, my plane was parked right along the starboard side just abreast of the island and the plane went over the side, it's full throttle exhaust made my plane rock all over the place as it swept across my plane, and it woke me up in time to turn and see the plane drop off the side with everyone running over the edge of the flight deck.
Oddly enough, you would think losing a plane over the side would be enough drama for one day, but thing was, I was working the night shift as well because we needed bodies riding brakes because they were moving planes all over the place that night. We green, rookie plane captains were the ones who got to ride brakes, so you had to sit in the damn plane all night, trying to catch some sleep, and because my squadron (VA-46) came up from Florida, I wasn't used to the cold, so it was uncomfortable, but I managed to get some sleep.
At some point, I awoke to a banging sound, and I nearly crapped my pants, it startled me that badly. I turned, and outside the canopy of my plane, one of the Crash Crew guys who wears the silver fire suit had climbed up on the ladder and was banging the nozzle of a CO2 extinguisher against the canopy to wake me up.
I opened the canopy, and the guy yelled at me: "We're at General Quarters, we hit a ship! You better get below and check in!" I think it all happened pretty close to me (my plane was spotted right above where it happened with the tail hanging out over the catwalk!) and I slept right through it, the GQ alarm and everything!
So...fortunately, my Line Shack (compartment where all of us Plane Captains worked out of) was literally less than 30 seconds from the plane, so...I didn't show up late enough to have people in panic mode wondering where I was.
Crazy. Losing a plane and wiping out a destroyer, both in the same day.
Here is the USS Bordelon (DD-881) in better days (same class, technically, that my Dad was an XO on during the Cuban Missile Crisis Blockade; USS Bristol DD-857-she started her life as a Gearing class destroyer, but had her hull extended to match the Sumner class length, so she was neither fish nor fowl):
And here she was after the underway refueling collision: