Black linework tattoo of a figure with flowing hair on the side of a torso, above black studded lace-up trousers.

Linework tattoo on side above lace-up trousers

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows the side and hip of a torso with a tattoo of a figure with long flowing hair, drawn in thin black outlines with light shading. The upper part of the design is partly covered by the waistband of black faux-leather trousers with silver studs and lace-up eyelets. The background is pale and the lighting is warm on the left side, so the skin tones and the fine lines stand out clearly.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom,

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The new skipper finally had the figure painted on the bow of the Marigold Rose, and I have to tell you it looks nothing like the drawing Mr Pascoe showed us in the Crown. He wanted her in heavy black, the way a woman might look in a storm coat, but the signwriter from Grimsby went thin with his pen and she came out like a sketch somebody forgot to finish. Hair streaming back off her shoulders in long lines, down past the rail, and the lines so fine you can only see them when the sun comes low over the breakwater.

Mind, the crew have taken to her. Ada the gutter girl says she is the only one aboard who never gets seasick, and Jim swears he saw her hair move when we took the swell off Dogger. I told him that was the rigging. He told me it was not rigging he had seen at four in the morning.

We lost the fore-net on Tuesday, and I spent the whole night lacing a new one with spare twine, crossing it over and over like the laces on Ada's Sunday boots, the eyelets going up the seam in a row of little silver rivets. Pascoe said it looked like a corset for a boat. He is right, and the boat held.

When we came in this morning the tide was out and the gulls were fighting over the catch. I looked back up at the bow and the paint had caught the light, and for a moment her hair seemed to lift off the timber and blow out over the harbour wall. I expect that is only the fog lifting. Still, I have stopped sleeping with the porthole shut.

Write when you can. Your brother, Walter.

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