Blue wave tattoo inside a black-outlined inverted triangle on a forearm, with light blue shading behind the wave.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Blue wave inside a triangle on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A curling wave is tattooed in saturated blue with white-blue highlights and speckled spray detail. It sits inside an inverted triangle outlined in heavy black, with a pale blue wash filling the upper part of the triangle. The photograph is taken close up against a dark background, with the tattoo centred on the skin.

Geometric Forearm Wave Triangle Water Spray

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell had the tiller lashed and the kettle on the little stove when she first saw the grey line creeping up from Sharpness. The lock-keepers at Gloucester had talked about it all week, a tide that climbed the Severn so fast it stood up like a wall and rolled upstream past anything that floated. Her father had called it the devil's shoulder. He had also said the devil never ran a coal barge, so she supposed it was fair game.

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The Mary Ann was loaded low with coal for Gloucester and had no business on the water at the turn. Harry, who worked the other end of the boat, was ashore hauling a line off the bollard and had not come back. Nell could see him on the far bank, cap in hand, waving it at her like a man trying to flag down a train. Then she saw the wave too, a pale hump coming round the bend with its crest blown white.

She did what her father had taught her and did not run. Running from a bore, he used to say, was like turning your back on a dog. She put the bow square to the face of it, opened the throttle, and felt the wheel hum under her palms as the water came up beneath the hull. The swell lifted the stern higher than she thought possible. Spray hit the cabin roof like thrown gravel, and the dark water curled over the gunwale in a long, glittering lip before it slid away underneath her.

When the river settled, the Mary Ann was still afloat, sitting a little deeper with a sheen of silt across her deck. Harry came out to the middle of the stream in the rowing skiff, soaked to the waist and swearing. Nell handed him the kettle without a word. Above them the spray hung in the low sun, a fine blue haze that caught the light and would not fall.