Black serif lettering reading Cheep Cheep runs along the outer side of a foot near the ankle, with a green book cover beneath.

Cheep Cheep lettering on a foot

Lettering · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A foot rests on a red fabric surface with a green book cover underneath. The words CHEEP CHEEP are tattooed in black serif capitals in a diagonal line along the outer side of the foot. The skin tone is light and the image is evenly lit, with the lettering as the clear focus.

Lettering Ankle Text Creature

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourselves down and mind the nets, the lot of you. Aye, that's it. This was the summer the herring went sideways and never came back into Porthcarrow, and Amos Pell, skipper of the Tern Jenny, hauled up a net one dawn so heavy with weed he swore it had a whale in it. It had a chick instead. Wet, grey, no bigger than a fist, sitting in the mesh as if it had paid its fare, and when Amos lifted it out it looked him in the eye and said cheep cheep, sharp as a bosun's whistle.

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He would have tipped it back over the side, but the wind had dropped and the fleet lay idle, so he tucked it inside his oilskin. By noon the chick had eaten two pilchards and a corner of his tobacco tin. By dusk it had grown a second pair of wings that were not quite feathers, more like the fur on a wet otter, and a voice that came out of its beak in a rumble that set the glasses ringing on the bar.

Nobody in the harbour believed him until the storm came in from the west on the third night, and every boat in the fleet was out past the bar with the lamps guttering. Amos went to the bow with the creature under his arm, and it stretched its neck over the black water and cheeped, once, twice, a sound so small and so stubborn that the waves seemed to stop and listen. Out there the herring came up, silver and shouldering, straight into the nets of the boats that had given up hope.

They towed the Tern Jenny home with her hold full to the gunwales. The creature flew off that morning towards the Gannet Rock light and was never seen again, though anyone who sails past the bar on a still night will hear something cheeping far down under the hull, patient as a clock. Mind the nets, now. Off you go.