My guests were on deck chatting and drinking sunset cocktails.
I was below preparing their meal of conch fritters, lobster and fish.
I lit the gas stove and with a little flicker, it died.

I gathered up the prepared seafood, smiled sweetly at my unassuming guests and walked down the dock.

At the marina restaurant, I tapped on the kitchen door.
''Hey, can you help me out and cook this up? I'm outta gas.''

The cook took my tray and told me to come back in twenty minutes.
When I returned, the meal was cooked and presented beautifully, with parsley.