Small black anchor tattoo in fine line style on the inner wrist, with a dark top in the background.

Small anchor tattoo on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small, simple anchor is tattooed on the inner wrist, with the hand raised and turned slightly toward the camera. The anchor has a ring at the top, a vertical shaft and a curved base with flukes, drawn in solid black ink with thin lines. The skin is pale and the background is dark fabric, which makes the single motif stand out in the centre-right of the frame.

Fine line Forearm Anchor Nautical Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had sealed the Sea Gate Inn since Tuesday, and by Thursday Maud Pritchard had counted the coal in the scuttle twice. She sent the potboy down for the last cask of rum, then stood at the window with the lamp and watched the harbour wall vanish under drifts that rolled in off the water like sheets being shaken out.

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The stranger came in just after the bell for lamps. He carried a sea chest on one shoulder, its brass lid stamped with a small iron anchor worn almost blank, and he set it down by the fire without asking. He paid for a room in coins so rubbed that their faces had gone soft. When Maud asked where he had walked from, he said Blyth, and that the road had been a river of white for two days, but his brother had told him to come.

Over the rum he explained. His brother's cutter, the Brightwater, had gone down off the Farne the winter before, and the salvage men had sold what they could drag ashore. Maud knew the stamp before he turned the chest over. The anchor hanging above her own front door had come off that same boat, and her grandfather had nailed it there because he said a house on a coast ought to keep one thing that had been lost and found.

They went out to the yard together with a candle, snow to their knees. The anchor was still there, rusted to its bracket. When the stranger laid his palm against the flukes, the cold ran off the iron in a sheet. Maud lifted the bracket free and handed it across without a word. Past the harbour wall, the snow thinned, and a single lamp swung over the black water and held steady.