Torso of a person in a white vest top, with black and grey realism style tattoo sleeves on both arms showing a cat, a skull and a ship.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black and grey sleeve with cat and skull

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A torso is shown from the neck to the waist, wearing a white vest top with a black printed forest scene and blackletter band name. Both arms are covered in black and grey tattoos, including a cat, a skull, a boat, birds and a horned creature, with shading that gives them a realistic look. The image is well lit against a grey wooden backdrop, with the tattoos filling the arms.

Realism Upper arm Forearm Cat Skull Ship Bird Creature

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third week out of Hull the cat had claimed the galley as her own, and you had stopped arguing. She slept on the warm lid of the stockpot and would not be shifted for anything less than a saucer of cold tea, so you cooked around her, stirring the barley with one hand and keeping the other ready to catch the pan whenever the swell tipped the stove.

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The skull lived on the shelf above the spice tins. The cook before you had named it Pardew, after a bosun who went over the side in the Baltic, though nobody could say whether it was his. Every evening the gulls came in close off the bow and then fell back, and the old hands said the birds were counting the crew. You never liked that. The carved ram on the bowsprit had been painted black years ago and the rain had kept it that way, its curled horns streaked white with salt.

On the eleventh morning the gulls did not follow. The coast came up grey, and the trees on it looked like a wall of bristles, and the rigging filled with crows, dozens of them, all turned to face the land. The cat had eaten the last of the bread in the night, and her paw prints ran from the stove to the chart table and on to the porthole, which was far too small for a cat to fit through. You put the kettle on for her the way you did every morning. For once she did not come to the stove. She sat on the table with her tail straight up, staring at the trees, and purred like something that had finally come home.