You remember that Rainbow Ninja Warrior knife we looked at two weeks ago? Well, here’s a knife that’s arrived at the same general concept but from the complete opposite direction.

This, my sharks and flounders, is the Böker Mermaid.

Yes, that Böker. The one in Solingen in Germany. This knife has the one feature in particular you need from a piece of humorless Germanic cutlery.

Booba.

The Mermaid is an incredibly weighty 187.4 g / 6.61 oz all metal liner locking folder, and is exactly the type of thing your graddad didn’t mean when he said to fetch his fishing knife. It’s quite large as well, 8-3/4" from stem to stern (that was another nautical pun; I don’t know if you noticed). It’s about 2" wide when closed due to the mermaid’s tail sticking out the back which acts as the… er, flipper. That said, this is not a spring assisted knife and the pivot rides on regular nylon washers. The action is rather heavy and it takes a good flick of your wrist along with a press on the flipper to get it to snap open. The blade is a good 3-3/4" long, and its thickness measurement is complicated quite thoroughly by the lass depicted on it.

That’s because she’s not an engraving or an etching, but rather for lack of a better description a bass relief formed right into the spine of the blade, sitting proud of it in all directions including out its thickness – on both sides.

Holes are drilled all up the knife from the base of the handle up through the blade, evoking bubbles. The scales have a literal herringbone pattern. And the whole thing is of course rainbow finished, and eye-searingly shiny. This also makes it singularly annoying to photograph. But you will be the most stylin’ swabbie on the entire poop deck when you bust this thing out.

The knife is deceptively thick, as well. It’s about 11/16" but doesn’t look like it, because its profile is actually rather rounded. A pocket clip is provided which is removable, but not reversible. But if you were expecting any practical EDC features on this particular knife I think you’re in the wrong lake.

The spine of the handle has this notched pattern, which is carried up through the flare on the heel. I’m sure it’s meant to evoke yet another aspect of fishiness, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. The entire ensemble when taken together is definitely A Statement.

Here is the most incongruous comparison of two knives you will see all week, I promise you:

To the right, a very practical and reasonably sized Kershaw/Emerson CQC-6K. In D2. To the left… not that.

For your money you get this nondescript cardboard sleeve, which contains…

…an honest to goodness metal tin.

Inside is the knife, nestled in dense custom cut foam.

You also get the customary pair of leaflets from Boker, one in English and one in German. The leaflets are each a double centerfold, but not that kind of centerfold. If you were hoping for a depiction of a mermaid with her fins spread, well, prepare to walk away disappointed.

Inside is the expected mission statement and chest-beating by the manufacturer.

And inside that is this care guide. Which I’m mentioning because it includes the gems, “A knife is a cutting tool, not a screwdriver, lever tool, chisel, hammer or crowbar,” and, “This clip is not intended to be attached to the belt.” These are details that, in my experience, some motherfuckers need to hear. If you happen to identify one of said motherfuckers, do yourself a favor and never lend them one of your knives.

Also, the leaflet admits at the bottom of the first column that the Magnum line from Böker is made in “Asia.” China, actually. That kind of gives the game away a bit, vis-a-vis the design elements and willingness to engage in the overt silliness on display here. If Böker tried to have this made in Germany there would probably be a riot at the factory.

The Inevitable Conclusion

This is a knife for looking at, not for using. You’ll know already if you’re the type of connoisseur who wants one. Otherwise, normal people probably need not apply.