1st February, 2015 - The Great Barge Bake-Off

Winter is still holding on with its cold grasp, and hence, our girl has been tucked away cosily in the marina, awaiting our weekly return to check her water pipes and flick on the heating to briefly warm her heart. Together we long for each other once more, holding out for the chance of a warm spring day to lounge on the deck boards next to her and feed the swans.

Today, however, I was cheered by something of a revolution that my sister and her family had bought for me for my birthday. Unwittingly, they had changed my life, and possibly everyone else in the marina (if they catch wind of it).

It involves a book, a microwave, a china mug, ten minutes and some sugar, flower, eggs and most likely (in my case) chocolate. CAKE IN A MUG.

I need not say any more. My lifelong ambition once squashed by work commitments, time, and stress, will soon be fulfilled. No longer will I have the terrible fear on board of someone stealing my shop-bought muffins and other treats when they mysteriously 'drop by'.

With a cake disguised in a mug, no-one else stands a chance with my hands wrapped firmly around it. Even better, if I give them the recipe, they'll leave in double-quick time to go and make one for themselves.

When all you have in your galley is an induction hob and a microwave, the art of cake making would once have been an impossible mission; I now salute the author of the book I received for such an ingenious invention, nearly worthy of a Nobel Peace award. With 600W and an appetite you can take on anything (except maybe emptying the toilet tank, as, admit it, no one is ever really prepared for that. The sight of chocolate cake can make such sights an even worse ordeal).

I once stared miserably at the cup of soup my work colleague made from a sachet of powder that, when boiled from an over-active kettle, smelled and tasted like death warmed up. Now I laugh, flashing my microwave and new cake circle powers (and a marvellous smile, if I say so myself).

If only one could perfect a roast dinner in a mug, the boating universe would change forever. After all, Wales thrives on a delicious and fabulous dish called Cawl that's cooked in one pan (or an oversized mug, if you want to try).

Somehow, my boaty neighbours seem to manage cooking a normal roast. How they do this is a total mystery to me (however, it might have a lot to do with a full-sized gas oven). Apparently, it involves lots of shelf swapping at timed intervals - I've also heard rumours of much laying-on-the-back foot shoving as well.

I'll have to be careful my cake mixture doesn't exceed 21 x 29.7cm for fear the microwave door won't shut, or I'll have a queue of disappointed neighbours outside the kitchen window who look like they've turned up at the wrong Blue Dragon advert.

Some things are better kept behind closed doors. Especially mug cakes and roasts.

Remember, sharing cake recipes is very dangerous. Only do it in extreme situations, i.e you want to get rid of a visitor for talking too much/farting in YOUR boat/eating your food which you planned on eating yourself/hogging the fireplace. Do it wisely, or friends may end up resorting to bad behaviour just to get one line of ingredients from you. You have been warned.