Dreamed I was docking at a port that wasn't on any chart

I'm guiding the boat into this basin I've never seen, but every cleat is exactly where my hand expects it. The warehouses are all empty, and I can hear my own footsteps echoing off the tin roofs — the way an empty room sounds when you know it should be full of shouting and winches. Then I wake up with salt on my lips and I'm not sure which harbour was real.