Black silhouette of a sailing ship against a blue, orange and yellow watercolour-style sunset, with a crescent moon, tattooed on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sailing ship and crescent moon on an upper arm

Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A tall sailing ship in solid black silhouette with detailed rigging sits in front of a blue crescent moon and a sunset gradient of orange and yellow. The sea is shown as dark blue water at the base, and the sky shading has a soft, painterly wash. The strong black mass of the ship contrasts with the lighter colour fills around it.

Upper arm Sailing ship Ship Moon Crescent moon Sunset Sea Rigging Water

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ruth, the Clementine Rose went out past the Scarra rocks yesterday at dusk, every sail she carried set against a sky fading from orange to lemon at the rim. I was on the gallery with the wick not yet trimmed, and I watched her go black against it, all those yards of rigging drawn in ink like the lines on a slate. Father would have said she sat too deep for the tide, and he would have been right, but he would have sat down on the step and watched her all the same.

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Thomas Quayle is her master now. You will remember him from the chapel at Porthgwarra, the one who sang bass and could never keep his hat on. He came up the path at four o'clock asking for a bed and a lamp to read by, and he left his dog with me for the voyage because the dog was sick of salt water. The dog is called Biscuit and sleeps under the stove. I have not yet found the heart to tell him that the Clementine's cargo was never meant to reach this coast.

Before she cleared the headland, a crescent moon came up thin as a paring over the cliff, and Thomas raised his hat to it, which I thought was foolish until I saw him do the same to the lamp. He had tucked a note under Biscuit's collar. It said only, keep the light for the one who comes back late.

I lit it at nine. The moon hung over Scarra like a hook, and out past the rocks, where no light should be, there was a second glow low on the water. I have been counting the hours since, and I am not sure yet whether I am waiting for Thomas or for the lamp.