“Maybe three.Maybe more.”
“I believe it,”the boy said.
“What a fish it was,”the proprietor said.“There has never been such a fish.Those were two fine fish you took yesterday too.”
“No.Truly.It was afterwards.”
“Of course.With coast guard and with planes.”
“Don't sit up.”the boy said.“Drink this.”He poured some of the coffee in a glass.
The wind is our friend,anyway,he thought.Then he added,sometimes.And the great sea with our friends and our enemies.And bed,he thought.Bed is my friend.Just bed, he thought.Bed will be a great thing.It is easy when you are beaten,he thought.I never knew how easy it was.And what beat you,he thought.
She's good,he thought.She is sound and not harmed in any way except for the tiller.That is easily replaced .
He started to climb again and at the top he fell and lay for some time with the mast across his shoulder.
“He was eighteen feet from nose to tail,”the fisherman who was measuring him called.
“Do you want a drink of any kind?”the proprietor asked.
Inside the shack he leaned the mast against the wall.In the dark he found a water bottle and took a drink.Then he lay down on the bed.He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and then over his back and legs and he slept face down on the newspapers with his arms out straight and the palms of his hands up.