Traditional style colour tattoo of a pineapple with green leaves and a blue banner reading Farewell Friend with a red heart, on a limb.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pineapple and Farewell Friend banner tattoo

Traditional · Other · Colour · Photo

A pineapple sits at the centre of the design, with spiky green leaves above and small dark diamond shapes around the crown. A pale blue banner crosses the fruit's lower half and reads FAREWELL, a red heart, then FRIEND. The pineapple has bold black outlines, flat yellow and orange fills and shaded segments, set against pale healed skin.

Traditional Other Pineapple Banner Heart Leaves Friend

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody aboard the Clara Vane would admit to carrying the pineapple up the gangway at Kingston, but by the middle watch it sat on the galley table like a verdict. Bosun Tobias Hale turned it once under the lamp, its crown of spiked leaves catching the light, and frowned at the scrap of paper tucked beneath the stalk. Pineapples were for captains' tables and for the rare port where a man had earned a welcome. This one had come with no welcome at all, only a line in pencil: farewell, friend.

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The cook, old Mercy Lowe, who had sailed these waters for thirty years, took the knife from its hook and scored the rind in neat diamonds. 'Somebody's leaving,' she said. 'Somebody always is.' Nobody asked who. The ship had shipped two new hands in Port Royal, and one of them, a lad from Shadwell with a laugh like a broken hinge, had gone ashore that afternoon and not come back to the boat.

They cut it into thirty pieces, one for every soul aboard, and passed it hand to hand until the juice ran down to their wrists. It tasted of sunshine and of something sour underneath, the way a goodbye does when nobody told you that you were meant to say one. Mercy saved the crown for last and set it in a tin of wet sand by the porthole, as she had done with every crown since Barbados, because a leaf that takes root is a promise kept, she said, even when the people who made it are long gone.

By dawn the gulls had picked the core clean off the rail, and the lad's pencil note was pinned to the mainmast where any man could read it. Someone had written underneath, in a hand nobody could place: Tell him the tide was kind.