There's this bay, highly enclosed. The entrance is under a natural bridge thing. From far away it appears enormous. From up close it was actually very small. Of course, from the beach, the bay looked fairly small but from the entrance, looking back, the bay was huge. Myself, Laz, and two or three other people (don't recall who) needed to get out of this bay region. Some others in our group were heading overland, back to the city which I always dream of, but we chose not to go overland. The way was too rough; we expected those heading out by foot to die. We chose to kayak out. But the wave action at the mouth of the bay was pretty mean. So we hiked over to the mouth and timed the waves; it was just enough for us to kayak through. However, a whole bunch of obnoxious lifeguards were hanging around in the water right outside the mouth of the bay, tipping over boats and pushing anyone who swam out there under water. They were going to interfere with our escape, I could tell. But we had to try it anyway.
Then I sorta woke up and dozed back off into a dream about a Steven Spielberg cartoon about dogs and cats. The only dialogue I recall was the villain talking to his lackey:
Villain: "How long is this long-range bomb's range?" Lackey: "How far does it need to go?" Villain: "Ooooooh, not far at all."
Cut to an aerial view of the bomb's shadow growing larger over the dog protagonist, who looks up in abject terror moments before the explosion.