Daufuskie, three by five miles, 14 miles by water from the nearest traffic light. no yoga, no yogurt and the fast food has fins or fur or feathers. it’s about halfway between new york and miami and the real estate wizards figured to make it the martha’s vineyard of the south. lord knows they tried but $350m was not nearly enough. so today we have a bizarre island stewpot: our culturally shell-shocked northern brethren who have relocated among us; the gullah descendants of enslaved west africans here now some three hundred years; and local white folks, the shrimpers, potters and poets who blew ashore here for reasons about which you do not casually inquire.

what does the sentence ‘the fast food has fins or fur or feathers…” mean?