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week-long sailing trip.
               It had been four years since that cata‐
            strophic event and I saw evidence of de‐
            stroyed buildings that had not yet been
            repaired. And while the Abacos have re‐
            bounded somewhat since Dorian struck,
            Burns said the recovery has been uneven
            throughout the archipelago.
               So, besides getting away from Wiscon‐
            sin’s chilly winter weather, it felt good to be
            helping the islands’ economy, more than
            half of which is based on tourism. Navigare
            Yachting (navigare-yachting.com), the
            charter company we used, looked like it
            employed at least a dozen locals.
               Burns, who has sailed around the globe
            and had chartered in the Abacos before
            Dorian, said the nine cats he booked
            through Navigare was the largest group
            he’d ever assembled. Which made for a fun
            progressive dinner one night when we shut‐
            tled from boat to boat. But we were never
            herded together. Each day, we sailed our
            own courses to reach the next bay, arriving
            at our leisure.
               It turned out that I actually knew some
            of the others in our small navy, including
            three Minnesotans with whom I’d sailed to
            Isle Royale in Lake Superior. There was also
            a Tasmanian who’d been my sailing in‐
            structor in the Apostles Islands a few years
            back and - surprise - an acquaintance from
            the University of Wisconsin’s Hoofers sail‐
            ing club who had once sailed across the At‐
            lantic.
               After provisioning our cat that first af‐
            ternoon, I enjoyed a fruity rum drink and
            salad at Snappy’s, the Conch Inn’s open air
            bar, watched the sun set over the harbor
            and then bedded down in my ample berth
            to the rear in one of the Indie’s hulls. Why,
            it even came with its own head (bathroom
            in landlubber’s terms).
               At the Man O’ War Cay, we tied up on a
            mooring buoy. Then we took our dinghy to




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