He had pushed his straw hat hard down on his head before he hooked the fish and it was cutting his forehead.He was thirsty too and he got down on his knees and,being careful not to jerk on the line,moved as far into the bow as he could get and reached the water bottle with one hand.He opened it and drank a little.Then he rested against the bow. He rested sitting on the unstepped mast and sail and tried not to think but only to endure.
Then he will turn and swallow it,he thought.He did not say that because he knew that if you said a good thing it might not happen.He knew what a huge fish this was and he thought of him moving away in the darkness with the tuna held crosswise in his mouth. At that moment he felt him stop moving but the weight was still there.Then the weight increased and he gave more line.He tightened the pressure of his thumb and finger for a moment and the weight increased and was going straight down.
He did not take it though.He was gone and the old man felt nothing.
This far out,he must be huge in this month,he thought.Eat them,fish.Eat them.Please eat them.How fresh they are and you down there six hundred feet in that cold water in the dark.Make another turn in the dark and come back and eat them.