Realism tiger head tattoo in orange, black and grey on an upper arm, with a small Om symbol tattoo above it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Snarling tiger head on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A snarling tiger head is tattooed on the upper arm, with its mouth open to show teeth and its eyes narrowed. The fur is shaded in black, grey and orange with soft blended edges that give it a three-dimensional look. A smaller Om symbol sits above the tiger on the same arm, and the photo is taken at a slight angle against a green sleeveless top.

Realism Upper arm Tiger Om symbol

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The crate had been nailed shut in Calcutta, and by the third week out of Colombo the crew had stopped pretending they did not listen for it. Ruth Hale, the second mate's daughter, had signed on as a passenger to see her father's ship home, and she kept a tally of the animal's meals in the back of her sketchbook. Fourteen pounds of goat on Tuesday. Water refused on Thursday.

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Tom Ashby, the ship's carpenter, was the only man aboard who would go down to the hold with a lantern. He talked to the beast in the flat voice he used for planing teak, and on the night the swell rose off Cape Guardafui he found the slats sprung and the cage door swinging. The tiger was not in the hold. It stood in the lamplight at the top of the ladder, ears flat, jaws open wide enough to show every tooth, and it did not roar. It only breathed, slow and ragged, like a bellows left too long.

Tom did not run. He set the lantern on the deck, eased himself down onto an upturned bucket, and said, "Right then. Let's have it out." Nobody who saw it afterwards could agree how long they stayed like that. The bosun swore it was an hour. Tom swore it was the length of one tin of tobacco.

By dawn the sea had flattened and the tiger lay asleep under a tarpaulin, flank rising and falling. Ruth found Tom on the forecastle with a tin cup of tea going cold between his hands. She asked if he had been frightened. He said he had been too busy being a carpenter to be anything else, then looked at the orange and black heap by the hatch and added that it was the first honest thing he had seen in three weeks at sea.