L Lee Watkins

Key West Crazy L Lee Watkins

I am one of those people who rarely remembers a dream. This was one of the times that I did remember, or so I thought. I was riding in some sort of vehicle that swayed gently from side-to-side and made very little noise. Then I realized that my clothes were damp, and I could smell saltwater. I came awake with a start. I wasn't dreaming. I was on the floor of the Boston Whaler that should be on davits aboard the charter yacht, Spotted Dolphin. I slowly stood up on wobbly legs and plopped down on one of the cushioned seats. I felt lightheaded, and my feet were cold. I looked down and saw that someone had stolen my new deck shoes. Thankfully, I still wore my chino pants and a T-shirt with the Mason Marine logo on it. However, my pockets were empty. The last thing I remember was going to sleep on the deck of the Spotted Dolphin just after midnight. Based on the position of the Sun, the current time was around ten o'clock in the morning. I had lost ten hours of my life, and I didn't have a clue how that could have happened.