Easy living or The carrot cake that ran away

There's a certain danger in the warm waters of the Caribbean; you lose our heart to these islands. The easy, slow pace, the easy warm-weather life, the easy smiles. You learn not to miss the hassle of putting on layers of clothes just to shiver your way out to buy a newspaper. So easy just to pull on a t-shirt and shorts, and meander over to a shop or a friend here. And meander back with a liter of long-life milk, two hours of chatting later.

We meet sailors who have stayed. Brenda of "Willow" is in Grenada and can tell us about Trinidad from their six months there. Linda and Rob, a boat engineer, are from Glascow. They built their beautiful ketch, "Maverick of Clyde" in 1991 and sailed away. Years in Greece, Barcelona. Several months in Senegal, Gambia, and then they crossed over to the Caribbean and their boat is home in Grenada now. Fascinating, lovely people!

Our little event of the day was a carrot cake. Okay, it was a mix. But a mix from Norway, carried over the Altantic. And with chopped walnuts, dates, figs, extra real carrots, spices. Almost done, a skillet "bake", piping hot, when...

(A passing dinghy roars by and rocks the boat)

I've got it, no I haven't... HELP! Over it goes, behind the high, gimbled oven. Falling to a thousand hot crumbs back there. Cock-roach feed? Well, we scoop out the bits and pieces onto a dish. The bottom is partially intact. Put it on top of the crumply bits. Hmmmm? Looks sort of like a cake. Let it cool.
Panic backs off as my brain cools down. The cream-cheese and orange icing is thickly spread on top, a few walnut halves for decoration.

Shal we sell it to the "Gingerbread" cake-cafe?
Yummmmmm. Nope