I am in the midst of a situation with friends, staying in a foreign city. I realize I have left my sunglasses somewhere. They're expensive; so I go back to the hotel to search for them. My room is on the second floor, and I can't seem to get there directly. The cleaning staff explains that I have too give them they key and they will look for me. The strategy seems ineffective but I give them the room key anyway. The impression of searching my pocketbook for the key and handing it over is distinct and very detailed. I definitively realize they aren't going to find the sunglasses in the room.
It is about here that I realize the keys may be in my boat, a Boston Whaler. For some inexplicable reason we got out of the boat and abandoned it halfway up a canal system leading from the ocean to the proper mooring, instead of taking it all the way; then—for reasons which are entirely unclear— we walked out from a tangled, relatively obscure wooded area. The choice seemed right at the time, but now I realize that someone has to go get the boat and finish the journey home.
It falls completely to me; my companions are for whatever reason absent.
I try to calculate where the boat must be but can only reach an approximation. I set out to find it hoping that no one else will find it and claim it as salvage, even though it is properly tied up on the shore and not adrift. It occurs to me that one potential consequence is the loss of both the boat and the sunglasses, which involves much value. I reluctantly resign myself to it and continue with the task.
I end up traversing a landscape with large hills. Despite my original impression of a trackless wilderness around the canals, this region is actually quite built up and has elegant houses. Starting from a high vantage point which is approximately identifiable—I think I can reach the boat from here—I begin to go down, then back up, only to realize that I'm going the wrong way. There are many other people traveling the same path but none of them have the same mission i do, or anything like it.
I turn around at the top of the second hill and start to head back, feeling a bit desperate about how far I'll have to go.
The scene abruptly morphs, but I don't recall how; the transition is entirely seamless. I'm now on the water. There are high riverbanks of bare soil and sand, topped by greenery.
I am now in a large, second boat—not my boat but another one. It is powerful, chugging along the river, but the windows or hatches in the front cabin are closed and shuttered, and one can't see where one is going. I gradually remove the various shutters (there are several of them) and can see; but I have poor control of the unfamiliar boat and can't maneuver as well as I would like. I end up nearly colliding with a dock bearing an elaborate mechanism, then have to turn around in the cul de sac it occupies.
While turning around, the boat undergoes a transformation and become a small, self-propelling water jet device which a swimmer can use to pull themselves forward through the water without swimming. I'm in the water now and using this device to navigate the canals. I'm paradoxically at the top of the same hill complex I was in when I started the search; an area filled with rather elaborate mansions, featuring Greco-Roman architectural elements, fancy gardens. The channels of water are small, shallow, and quite narrow. I accidentally end up intruding on a populated garden, turn around, and leave. One of the people there is a naked woman. My thoughts turn to sex, even though the circumstances render such thinking completely inappropriate. I see that I'm very easily distracted by such thoughts.