The Old Man and the Sea

Santiago begins the long, tedious process of lashing the creature to the side of his boat. The marlin truly is a giant, weighing well over 1,500 pounds. The old man raises his sail and heads for home port. On the way, he grabs a floating patch of Gulf weed, shakes the small shrimps out of it, pinches off their heads, and eats them, along with a few sips of his remaining water.

An hour into the return journey, a large Mako shark, following the marlin’s blood trail, attacks the fish. Santiago sees it coming and, just as it strikes, drives his harpoon into its skull. The shark swims away, taking with it the harpoon and 40 pounds of marlin flesh, but it dies quickly. The old man knows there will be more sharks. He ties his knife to an oar and waits, chewing idly on a small strip of marlin meat from the gash made by the shark. The meat tastes good; it will garner a high price at the market.

An hour later, two more large sharks appear. They each do damage to the marlin before Santiago can stab them in the head with his knife. Soon, another shark arrives to feed, and when the old man stabs it, the creature jerks, snapping the knife. Near sunset, two more appear. As they tear at the marlin, Santiago clubs them with an old oar handle, injuring them but not fatally.

He realizes he should have carved off the marlin’s front spear and used that as a weapon. Now in the dark, he has little chance to defend his catch. At ten o’clock in the evening he sees the glow of city lights in the distance. At midnight, a school of sharks attack. He swings his club at them but soon loses the instrument. He pulls off the boat’s tiller and uses that as a club until it breaks. When there is no meat left to eat, the sharks leave.

He puts the broken tiller back—it still works, albeit imperfectly—and continues for home. Late in the night, a shark or two try to eat some leftover tidbits, but he ignores them. The harbor appears, its residents still asleep, and he finds his way to the landing. There, he pulls the skiff onto the shore and ties it off. The skeleton of the great marlin glows dully in the street light. Carrying his sail and mast, he walks up toward his shack, falling once and lying there awhile, then getting up and continuing. He rests five more times before reaching his home, where he falls into bed and instantly is asleep.

In the morning, too windy for fishing, locals stand around Santiago’s skiff, gawking at the giant skeleton and measuring it at 18 feet. Crying with sadness, the boy brings coffee to Santiago. He wakes and drinks it. They discuss disposing of the skeleton: The head will go to Pedrico to chop up for fish traps, the spear to the boy. Santiago learns that the coast guard has been searching for him. The boy wants to fish with him again, but Santiago says his luck is all bad. The boy replies that he caught four good fish over the past three days and will bring his own luck. The old man tells him how to make a spear from an old car spring, and the boy says he will find a new knife for Santiago.

That afternoon, tourists gaze down from the Terrace restaurant at the huge skeleton lying on the beach. A lady asks what it is; the waiter tries to explain what happened. She thinks he’s saying that the skeleton is a shark and remarks, “I didn’t know sharks had such handsome, beautifully formed tails” (80).

In his shack, the old man sleeps and dreams of lions.