Black and grey shaded anchor tattoo on the back of a woman's neck, seen from behind, with a partial Roman numeral tattoo on her upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Anchor tattoo on the back of the neck

Traditional · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A woman seen from behind, with dark hair up and a hoop ear piercing, shows a single anchor tattoo centred on the back of her neck. The anchor has a bold outline, a ring at the top and a shaded shank and flukes in black and grey ink. The plain black top and blurred background keep the focus on the tattoo, and partial Roman numerals are visible on her upper arm.

Traditional Neck Anchor Roman numeral

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last waltz is already half over when Ruth Penhale finally stops pretending she hasn't seen you cross the floor. The Pier Ballroom smells of salt and pomade, and the bandleader is counting out the final chorus with his eyes shut. You have three shillings in your pocket and a ferry ticket for seven o'clock tomorrow morning, and you have not yet found the nerve to mention either.

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She tells you an anchor is only a thing that stops a boat drifting, which is not the same as keeping it at home. Her brother Dennis has worked the Ramsgate run since he was sixteen and says the trick is knowing the bottom of the harbour by heart. Ruth knows the bottom of you, she says, and she will not be the one who holds you back. Her hand is cold from the lemonade bottle she has been pressing to her wrist all night.

Outside, the tide is turning over the sea wall with a noise like a crowd leaving early. You walk her to the gate and she takes a pencil from her handbag, bends over the back of your ticket and draws quickly: a ring, a bar, two curled flukes, the shading pressed so hard the lead nearly tears the card. "Now you've got something of mine that won't drift," she says, and folds the ticket shut over your palm.

Three days later, somewhere past the Bay of Biscay, you find it again in your coat, the pencil gone soft at the edges. You have never once looked at the anchor properly. You have only been holding on to it.