Colour tattoo of a green parrot perched on a pink umbrella with a lilac bow, in a neo-trad style on an arm near the elbow, with a pink bow and roses above.

Parrot on a pink umbrella with bows

Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A green parrot with a yellow head and curved beak sits on a pink umbrella with a lilac bow tied around its pole. Above it, a pink bow with white dots and a partly visible cartoon ear appear on the arm, with a rose sleeve further up. The bold dark outlines, soft shading and bright pink, green and purple ink give the piece a playful, retro feel.

Neo-trad Forearm Upper arm Umbrella Bow Ribbon Rose Cartoon character

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain came on somewhere off Finisterre and stayed four days, and it was the first time anyone aboard the Maud Castellan had seen Captain Haig look at the parrot with anything like respect. Pollux was a green macaw with a yellow head and a beak like a hook, and he belonged to Ina Dunn, our cook, who had bought him in Lisbon for two shillings and a bottle of port. She had bought the umbrella too, a pink silk thing with a lilac ribbon tied round its pole, and in any weather she carried it on deck with the bird perched on the handle like a duchess being escorted to church.

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The captain had banned him from the upper deck twice. Ina ignored it both times, and on the third morning the bosun, Mr Rudd, found her standing in the scupper with Pollux on her shoulder and his face going the colour of boiled ham. "It's a menace," he said. "Feathers in the soup." Ina only tucked the ribbon straighter. Over the voyage Pollux had picked up the bosun's pipe, the thin two-note call that summoned the watch, and he could do it better than most of the men.

Then on the Thursday night a sea came over the rail and took young Eddie Pryce clean off the foredeck. I was on the bridge ladder and heard nothing but wind. It was Pollux who raised the alarm, from under the dripping umbrella at the galley hatch, piping that two-note call again and again until every man on watch came pounding up. They found Eddie clinging to a coil of rope, half drowned and furious.

Ina hung the umbrella back on its hook that night to dry, the ribbon still bright, and told anyone who would listen that the bird had only been doing his job. Rudd said nothing, but the next morning he brought Pollux a dish of grapes and the captain's own tin of biscuits, and nobody on the Maud Castellan ever mentioned feathers in the soup again.