Jacob is high: off the ground and in his head, drunk in the dark, clinging to the top of a trawl boom forty feet in the air to hang a flag. They’ve spent all night decorating the boat in preparation for the annual Blessing of the Fleet tomorrow. It didn't need to take so long, but they had plenty of beer and had to stay on the boat this whole time to mind the roasting pig anyway, so what was the hurry? The whole point was to celebrate, and nothing says celebration like staying up all night drinking, minding a pig, and climbing things.

From his position, clinging to the welded metalwork at the tip of the boom, he’s above nearly everything in Golden Meadow. Only the bridge, the water tower, the cabins of oilfield boats, and the upraised booms of a couple other trawl boats make it thi...

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