Small colour tattoo of a smiling cartoon clownfish with orange body, white bands and black outlines, placed on a shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small cartoon clownfish on a shoulder

Shoulder · Colour · Photo

A small cartoon clownfish with a smiling face, large round eyes and a fanned tail is tattooed on pale skin. The design uses bold black outlines with orange body colour and white bands edged in black. The fish sits centrally in a close-up frame against a plain, soft-focus background of skin.

Shoulder Fish Cartoon Character

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cook on the Sea Lark out of Grimsby never fried anything he hadn't first been introduced to, which is why I was still alive by the third week. Cod went in the pan with a sigh. Haddock got a knife and a bit of respect. The little orange thing that came up in a net off Dogger Bank, though, I put in a jam jar on the windowsill above the range, because it looked at me as if it had a complaint and wanted it heard.

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Skipper Dunne said it was a clownfish, and therefore a tropical animal, and therefore a liar, since we were four hundred miles from any reef. I called it Bert, which annoyed him more than the fish did. Every morning I told Bert the weather. Every afternoon he swam up to the glass, pressed his round eyes to mine and smiled the way a man does when he has won a bet nobody else knew was on.

The turn came in a gale off the Shetlands, when the galley tipped and the jar slid off the sill and into the sink. I caught it with both hands and a tea towel and swore for a full minute. When the boat righted, Bert was swimming in a slop of seawater and spilt mackerel, flicking his fanned tail as if he was ready to go again.

We landed on the Tuesday. I carried the jar down the gangway and set it on the quay, meaning to tip him into the harbour. He wouldn't go. He circled, nudged the glass and waited until I had got the lid off myself, which was when I understood that I was the one who had been kept on board all along. I'm still cooking. Bert lives in a tank above my sink now, and he has never once let me forget who sets the tides.