Black ink tattoo of a stylised bird with bands above the wrist on a forearm, with a woven cuff bracelet below and a knitted sleeve above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black geometric bird and bands on forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A solid black tattoo shows a stylised bird with outstretched wings, a curved crescent body and a rounded head, flanked by two thick horizontal bands. The lines are bold and blocky with geometric stepped edges and simple fills. The forearm is lit softly against a dark background, with a knitted sleeve and a beaded bracelet visible nearby.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fog came down over Staithes so thick that Dad couldn't see the bow from the wheel, so he sent me up on the rail to call out the gulls. I was nine and had never called anything except the dog. But the gulls were out past the breakwater, screaming the way they do when the herring are running, and I found I could tell their voices apart if I held my breath.

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Grandad had painted the bird on our bow the summer the Marguerite was launched. It was a gull with its wings spread flat, a crescent for a belly and a square head like a cut stone, all in black tar, with a red band above and below so the hull looked belted from a distance. Nobody else in the fleet painted their boats like that. Dad called it daft. Grandad said the sea needed to know whose boat it was when it came to take one back, and that a bird with its wings out was easier to find in weather.

I kept calling. Left, left, a gull with a broken wing on the starboard side, and then the clank of the bell buoy off the Scar, which Dad swore he'd never heard in fog before. He turned the wheel where my voice told him to. We came in last, the other lamps smeared yellow behind us, and the men on the quay were already counting boats under their breath when they saw the painted bird come out of the grey.

Next morning I took Grandad's tin and brush down to the slip. Nobody asked me to. I went over the wing edges one step at a time, the way he had shown me, so the bird would still look like itself once the tar had weathered to grey.

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