Colour traditional-style tattoo of a saluting pin-up woman in a red Mountie-style uniform and wide-brimmed hat, set against a maple leaf on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pin-up Mountie saluting on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A pin-up woman in a red dress uniform and wide-brimmed hat salutes with her right hand while her left hand rests on her hip. She is drawn with smooth shading and soft highlights on her skin, hair and uniform. The figure sits in front of a large orange-red maple leaf, and the red tones dominate the composition against the pale paper towel at the edge of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Every spring the ice went out of the Ottawa and the bargemen of Carillon Reach argued about whose boat had gone through the locks first. The argument was older than the lock keeper. Nobody could say who had painted the red leaf on the bow of the Meridian, only that it was there when Ada Pryce took the tiller from her father, and that he never passed it without taking off his cap.

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The woman on the leaf was the old tale. She had been a constable of the river police who walked the towpath in a scarlet tunic and a hat with a brim like a shelf, and she saluted every hull that passed her lock, whether the crew deserved it or not. Ada's grandmother said the constable had once stopped a flood by standing on the bank and saluting it until the water lost its nerve and went back down the valley.

The year the snowmelt came early, the Meridian broke her mooring in the dark and drifted towards the weir with Ada's brother asleep in the hold. Ada ran the length of the towpath with a lantern, shouting. The current had the bow now. Then she remembered the tale and, with nothing better to offer, she stood square on the bank, lifted her right hand to her brow and held it there.

Nothing happened for a long minute. Then the barge swung slowly round, as if a sergeant had barked at it, and came to rest against the reeds. Ada's brother climbed out yawning. In the morning there was a fresh coat of red on the bow, and nobody on the reach argued about the salute again.

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