As the sun set, to give himself more confidence, he remembered the time in the tavern at Casablanca when he had played the hand game with the great negro from Cienfuegos, who was the strongest man on the docks.
They had gone one day and one night with their elbows on a chalk line on the table. Each one was trying to force the other's hand down onto the table. They changed the referee every four hours so that the referees could sleep.
The odds would change back and forth all night. Once the negro had the old man, who was not an old man then but was Santiago El Campeon, nearly three inches off balance. But the old man had raised his hand again. He was sure then that he had the negro, who was a fine man and a great athlete, beaten. And at daylight he had forced the hand of the negro down and down until it rested on the table. The match had started on a Sunday morning and ended on a Monday morning.
For a long time everyone had called him "the Champion." After that he had a few matches and then no more. He decided that he could beat anyone if he wanted to badly enough and he decided that it was bad for his right hand for fishing.
Just before it was dark, as they passed a great island of Sargasso weed, his small line was taken by a dolphin. He saw it first when it jumped in the air, bending and flapping wildly. When it was at the stern the old man leaned over and lifted the burnished gold fish with its purple spots over the stem. Its jaws were working convulsively in quick bites against the hook. It pounded the bottom of the skiff with its long flat body, its tail and its head until he clubbed it. Then it shivered and was still.
The old man watched the sun go into the ocean and the slant of the big cord.
"He hasn't changed at all," he said. But watching the movement of the water against his hand he noted that it was a bit slower.
"I'll lash the two oars together across the stern and that will slow him in the night," he said. "He's good for the night and so am I."
I'm learning how to do it, he thought. This part of it anyway. Then, too, remember he hasn't eaten since he took the bait and he is huge and needs much food. I have eaten the whole tuna, tomorrow I will eat the dolphin.
"How do you feel, fish?" he asked aloud. "I feel good and my left hand is better and I have food for a night and a day. Pull the boat, fish."
He did not truly feel good because the pain from the cord across his back had almost passed pain and gone into a dullness that worried him.
But I have had worse things than that, he thought. My hand is only cut a little and the cramp is gone from the other. My legs are all right.
It was dark now as it becomes dark quickly after the sun sets in September. The first stars were out. He did not know the name of Rigel but he saw it and knew that soon they would all be out and he would have all his distant friends.
"The fish is my friend too," he said aloud. "I have never seen or heard of such a fish. But I must kill him, I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars."
Then he was sorry for the great fish that had nothing to eat and his determination to kill him never relaxed in his sorrow for him. How many people will he feed, he thought. But are they worthy to eat him? No, of course not. There is no one worthy of eating a fish with such great dignity.
The old man rested for what he believed to be two hours. The moon did not rise until late now and he had no way of judging the time. He was still bearing the pull of the fish across his shoulders.
"But you have not slept yet, old man. It is half a day and a night and now another day and you have not slept," he said aloud. "I must devise a way so that you sleep a little if he is quiet and steady. If you do not sleep you might become unclear in the head."
I could go without sleeping, he told himself. But it would be too dangerous.
He worked his way back to the stern. The stars were bright now and he saw the dolphin clearly and he pushed the blade of his knife into his head and pulled him out from under the stern. The dolphin was cold and gray-white now in the starlight and the old man skinned one side of him while he held his right foot on the fish's head. Then he skinned the other side and cut fillets. He leaned over the side and put his hand in the water. The flow of the water against it was less strong.
"He is tired or he is resting. Now let me eat this dolphin and get some rest and a little sleep."
Under the stars he ate half of one of the dolphin fillets.
"What an excellent fish dolphin is to eat cooked," he said. "And what a miserable fish raw. I will never go in a boat again without salt or limes."
The sky was clouding over to the east and one after another the stars he knew were gone. It looked now as though he were moving into a great canyon of clouds and the wind had dropped.
"There will be bad weather in three or four days," he said. "But not tonight or tomorrow. Right now to get some sleep, old man, while the fish is calm and steady."
The moon had been up for a long time but he slept on and the fish pulled on steadily and the boat moved into the tunnel of clouds. He woke with the jerk of his right fist coming up against his face and the line burning out through his right hand. He could not feel the line with his left hand but he braked all he could with his right and the line rushed out.
Finally his left hand found the line and he leaned back against it and now it burned his back and his left hand. His left hand was taking all the strain and it was cutting badly.
Just then the fish jumped making a great bursting of the ocean and then a heavy fall. Then he jumped again and again and the boat was going fast although line was still racing out and the old man was raising the strain to the breaking point. He had been pulled down tight onto the bow and his face was in the cut
slice of dolphin and he could not move.
This is what we waited for, he thought. So now let us take it. Make him pay for the line. Make him pay for it.
He could not see the fish's jumps but only heard the breaking of the ocean and the heavy splash as he fell. The speed of the line was cutting his hands badly but he had always known this would happen.
If the boy were here he would wet the coils of line, he thought. Yes. If the boy were here.
The line went out but it was slowing now and he was making the fish earn each inch of it. Now he got his head up from the wood and out of the slice of fish that his cheek had crushed. He was on his knees and then he rose to his feet.
He was giving line but more slowly all the time.
I wonder what started him so suddenly? Could it have been hunger that made him desperate, or was he frightened by something in the night?
Maybe he suddenly felt fear. But he was such a calm, strong fish and he seemed so fearless and so confident. It is strange.
"You better be fearless and confident yourself, old man," he said.
The old man held him with his left hand and stooped down and scooped up water in his right hand to get the crushed dolphin flesh off his face. He was afraid that it might nauseate him and cause him to vomit and lose his strength. He washed his right hand in the water and then let it stay in the salt water while he watched the first light come before the sunrise. He's headed almost east, he thought. That means he is tired and going with the current. Soon he will have to circle. Then our true work begins.
After he judged that his right hand had been in the water long enough he took it out and looked at it.
"It is not bad," he said. "And pain does not matter to a man."
He took hold of the line carefully so that it did not fit into any of the fresh line cuts and shifted his weight so that he could put his left hand into the sea on the other side of the skiff.
"You did not do so badly for something worthless," he said to his left hand. 'But there was a moment when I could not find you."
Why was I not born with two good hands? he thought. Perhaps it was my fault in not training the left one properly. But God knows he had enough chances to leant. He did not do so badly in the night, though, and he has cramped only once. If he cramps again let the line cut him off.
The sun was rising for the third time since he had got out to sea when the fish started to circle.
"It is a very big circle," he said. "But he is circling."
I must hold all I can, he thought. The strain will shorten his circle each lime. Perhaps in an hour I will see him. Now I must convince him and then I must kill him.
But the fish kept on circling slowly and the old man was wet with sweat and tired deep into his bones two hours later. But the circles were much shorter now and from the way the line slanted he could tell the fish had risen steadily while he swam.
For an hour the old man had been seeing black spots before his eyes and the sweat salted his eyes and salted the cut under his eye and on his forehead. He was not afraid of the black spots. Twice, though, he had felt faint and dizzy and that had worried him.
"I cannot fail and die on a fish like this," he said. "Now that I have him coming so beautifully. God help me endure. I'll say a hundred Our Fathers and a hundred Hail Marys. But I cannot say them now." Consider them said, he thought. I'll say them later. Just then he felt a sudden banging and jerking on the line he held with his two hands. It was sharp and heavy.
He is hitting the wire with his sword, he thought. He may jump and I would rather he circled now. The jumps wore necessary for him to take air. But after that each jump can widen the opening of the hook wound and he can throw the hook.
"Don't jump, fish," he said. "Don't jump. The fish hit the wire several times more, and each time the old man gave up a little line.
After a while the fish stopped beating at the wire and started circling slowly again. The old man was gaining line steadily now. But he felt faint again. He lifted some sea water with his left hand and put it on his head. Then he put more on and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I have no cramps," ho said. "He'll go up soon and I can last. You have to last. Don't oven speak of it." He kneeled against the bow and, for a moment, slipped the line over his back again. I'll rest now while he circles and then stand up and work on him when he comes in, he decided.
I'm more tired than I have ever been, he thought, and now the trade wind is rising. But that will be good to take him in with. The sea had risen considerably. But it was a fair weather breeze and he had to have it to get home.
"I'll just steer south and west," he said. "A man is never lost at sea and it is a long island."
It was on the third turn that he saw the fish for the first time. He saw him first as a dark shadow that took so long to pass under the boat that he could not believe its length.
"No," he said. "He can't be that big." But he was that big and at the end of this circle he came to the surface only thirty yards away and the man saw his tail out of the water. It was higher than a big scythe blade and a very pale lavender above the dark blue water.
As the fish swam just below the surface the old man could see his huge bulk and purple stripes. His dorsal fin was down and his huge pectorals were spread wide. Then the old man could see the fish's eye.
The old man was sweating now but from something else besides the sun. On each placid turn the fish made he was gaining line and he was sure that in two turns he would have a chance to get the harpoon in.
But I must get him close, close, close, he thought. I mustn't try for the head. I must get the heart.
"Be calm and strong, old man," he said.
The fish was coming in on his circle now, calm and beautiful with only his great tail moving. The old man pulled on him to bring him closer. For just a moment the fish turned a little on his side. Then he straightened himself and began another circle.
"I moved him." the old man said. "I moved him then."
He felt faint again but he held on to the great fish with all his strength. I moved him, he thought. Maybe this time I can get him over. Pull, hands, he thought. Hold up, legs. Last for me, head. Last for me. You never went. This time I'll pull him over.
But when he put forth, all of his effort, the fish righted himself and swam away.
"Fish." the old man said. "Fish, you are going to have to die anyway. Do you have to kill me too?"
That way nothing is accomplished, he thought. His mouth was too dry to speak but he could not reach for the water now. I must get him alongside this time, he thought. I am not good for many more turns. Yes, you are, he told himself. You're good forever.
On the next turn, he nearly had him. But again the fish righted himself and swam away slowly.
You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater or more beautiful or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who. Now you are getting confused in the head, he thought. You must keep your head clear and know how to suffer like a man or a fish.
"Clear up, head." he said in a voice he could hardly hear. "Clear up."
He tried it once more and he felt himself going when he turned the fish. The fish righted himself and swam off again slowly with the great tail moving in the air.
I'll try it again, the old man promised, although his hands were mushy now and he could only see well in flashes.
“我说不上来，"他说出声来。"我从来没有长过骨刺。”
太阳落下去的时候，为了给自己增强信心，他回想起那回在卡萨布兰卡的一家酒店里，跟那个码头上力气最大的人，
①迪马吉奥脚踵上的骨刺在年通过手术割去，但后来有时仍有疼痛的感觉。
从西恩富戈斯①来的大个子黑人比手劲的光景。整整一天一夜，他们把手拐儿搁在桌面一道粉笔线上，胳膊朝上伸直，两只手紧握着。双方都竭力将对方的手使劲朝下压到桌面上。好多人在赌谁胜谁负，人们在室内的煤油灯下走出走进，他打量着黑人的胳膊和手，还有这黑人的脸。最初的八小时过后，他们每四小时换一个裁判员，好让裁判员轮流睡觉。他和黑人手上的指甲缝里都渗出血来，他们俩正视着彼此的眼睛，望着手和胳膊，打赌的人在屋里走出走进，坐在靠墙的高椅子上旁观。四壁漆着明亮的蓝色，是木制的板壁，几盏灯把他们的影子投射在墙上。黑人的影子非常大，随着微风吹动挂灯，这影子也在墙上移动着。
一整夜，赌注的比例来回变换着，人们把朗姆酒送到黑人嘴边，还替他点燃香烟。黑人喝了朗姆酒，就拚命地使出劲儿来，有一回把老人的手（他当时还不是个老人，而是"冠军"圣地亚哥）扳下去将近三英寸。但老人又把手扳回来，恢复势均力敌的局面。他当时确信自己能战胜这黑人，这黑人是个好样的，伟大的运动家。天亮时，打赌的人们要求当和局算了，裁判员摇头不同意，老人却使出浑身的力气来，硬是把黑人的手一点点朝下扳，直到压在桌面上。这场比赛是在一个礼拜天的早上开始的，直到礼拜一早上才结束。好多打赌的人要求算是和局，因为他们得上码头去干活，把麻袋装的糖装上船，或者上哈瓦那煤行去工作。要不然人人都会要求比赛到底的。但是他反正把它结束了，而且赶在任何人
①位于哈瓦那东南，是古巴中部滨加勒比海的一良港。
上工之前。
此后好一阵子，人人都管他叫"冠军"，第二年春天又举行了一场比赛。不过打赌的数目不大，他很容易就赢了，因为他在第一场比赛中打垮了那个西恩富戈斯来的黑人的自信心。此后，他又比赛过几次，以后就此不比赛了。他认为如果一心想要做到的话，他能够打败任何人，他还认为，这对他要用来钓鱼的右手有害。他曾尝试用左手作了几次练习赛。但是他的左手一向背叛他，不愿听他的吩咐行动，他不信任它。
这会儿太阳就会把手好好晒干的，他想。它不会再抽筋了，除非夜里太冷。不知道这一夜会发生什么事。
一架飞机在他头上飞过，正循着航线飞向迈阿密，他看着它的影子惊起成群成群的飞鱼。
“有这么多的飞鱼，这里该有鲯鳅，"他说，带着钓索倒身向后靠，看能不能把那鱼拉过来一点儿。但是不行，钓索照样紧绷着，上面抖动着水珠，都快迸断了。船缓缓地前进，他紧盯着飞机，直到看不见为止。
坐在飞机里一定感觉很怪，他想。不知道从那么高的地方朝下望，海是什么样子？要不是飞得太高，他们一定能清楚地看到这条鱼。我希望在两百英寻的高度飞得极慢极慢，从空中看鱼。在捕海龟的船上，我待在桅顶横桁上，即使从那样的高度也能看到不少东西。从那里朝下望，鲯鳅的颜色更绿，你能看清它们身上的条纹和紫色斑点，你可以看见它们整整一群在游水。怎么搞的，凡是在深暗的水流中游得很快的鱼都有紫色的背脊，一般还有紫色条纹或斑点？鲯鳅在水里当然看上去是绿色的，因为它们实在是金黄色的。但是当它们饿得慌，想吃东西的时候，身子两侧就会出现紫色条纹，象大马林鱼那样。是因为愤怒，还是游得太快，才使这些条纹显露出来的呢？
就在断黑之前，老人和船经过好大一起马尾藻，它在风浪很小的海面上动荡着，仿佛海洋正同什么东西在一条黄色的毯子下做爱，这时候，他那根细钓丝给一条鲯鳅咬住了。他第一次看见它是在它跃出水面的当儿，在最后一线阳光中确实象金子一般，在空中弯起身子，疯狂地扑打着。它惊慌得一次次跃出水面，象在做杂技表演，他呢，慢慢地挪动身子，回到船梢蹲下，用右手和右胳臂攥住那根粗钓索，用左手把鲯鳅往回拉，每收回一段钓丝，就用光着的左脚踩住。等到这条带紫色斑点的金光灿烂的鱼给拉到了船梢边，绝望地左右乱窜乱跳时，老人探出身去，把它拎到船梢上。它的嘴被钓钩挂住了，抽搐地动着，急促地连连咬着钓钩，还用它那长而扁的身体、尾巴和脑袋拍打着船底，直到他用木棍打了一下它的金光闪亮的脑袋，它才抖了一下，不动了。
老人把钓钩从鱼嘴里拔出来，重新安上一条沙丁鱼作饵，把它甩进海里。然后他挪动身子慢慢地回到船头。他洗了左手，在裤腿上擦干。然后他把那根粗钓索从右手挪到左手，在海里洗着右手，同时望着太阳沉到海里，还望着那根斜入水中的粗钓索。
“那鱼还是老样子，一点儿也没变，"他说。但是他注视着海水如何拍打在他手上，发觉船走得显然慢些了。
“我来把这两支桨交叉绑在船梢，这样在夜里能使它慢下来，"他说。"它能熬夜，我也能。”
最好稍等一会儿再把这鲯鳅开肠剖肚，这样可以让鲜血留在鱼肉里，他想。我可以迟一会儿再干，眼下且把桨扎起来，在水里拖着，增加阻力。眼下还是让鱼安静些的好，在日落时分别去过分惊动它。对所有的鱼来说，太阳落下去的时分都是难熬的。
他把手举起来晾干了，然后攥住钓索，尽量放松身子，听任自己被拖向前去，身子贴在木船舷上，这样船承担的拉力和他自己承担的一样大，或者更大些。
我渐渐学会该怎么做了，他想。反正至少在这一方面是如此。再说，别忘了它咬饵以来还没吃过东西，而且它身子庞大，需要很多的食物。我已经把这整条金枪鱼吃了。明天我将吃那条鲯鳅。他管它叫"黄金鱼"。也许我该在把它开膛时吃上一点儿。它比那条金枪鱼要难
吃些。不过话得说回来，没有一桩事是容易的。
“你觉得怎么样，鱼？"他开口问。"我觉得很好过，我左手已经好转了，我有够一夜和一个白天吃的食物。拖着这船吧，鱼。”
他并不真的觉得好过，因为钓索勒在背上疼痛得几乎超出了能忍痛的极限，进入了一种使他不放心的麻木状态。不过，比这更糟的事儿我也曾碰到过，他想。我一只手仅仅割破了一点儿，另一只手的抽筋已经好了。我的两腿都很管用。再说，眼下在食物方面我也比它占优势。
这时天黑了，因为在九月里，太阳一落，天马上就黑下来。他背靠者船头上给磨损的木板，尽量休息个够。第一批星星露面了，他不知道猎户座左脚那颗星的名字，但是看到①了它，就知道其他星星不久都要露面，他又有这些遥远的朋友来做伴了。
“这条鱼也是我的朋友，"他说出声来。"我从没看见过或听说过这样的鱼。不过我必须把它弄死。我很高兴，我们不必去弄死那些星星。”
想想看，如果人必须每天去弄死月亮，那该多糟，他想。月亮会逃走的。不过想想看，如果人必须每天去弄死太阳，那又怎么样？我们总算生来是幸运的，他想。
于是他替这条没东西吃的大鱼感到伤心，但是要杀死它的决心绝对没有因为替它伤心而减弱。它能供多少人吃啊他想。可是他们配吃它吗？不配，当然不配。凭它的举止风度和它的高度的尊严来看，谁也不配吃它。
我不懂这些事儿，他想。可是我们不必去弄死太阳或月亮或星星，这是好事。在海上过日子，弄死我们自己真正的兄弟，已经够我们受的了。
现在，他想，我该考虑考虑那在水里拖着的障碍物了。这玩意儿有它的危险，也有它的好处。如果鱼使劲地拉，造成阻力的那两把桨在原处不动，船不象从前那样轻的话，我可能会被鱼拖走好长的钓索，结果会让它跑了。保持船身轻，会延长我们双方的痛苦，但这是我的安全所在，因为这鱼能游得很快，这本领至今尚未使出过。不管出什么事，我必须把这鲯鳅开膛剖肚，免得坏掉，并且吃一点长长力气。
①原文为Ｒｉｇｅｌ，我国天文学称之为参宿七，光度极亮。
现在我要再歇一个钟点，等我感到鱼稳定了下来，才回到船梢去干这事，并决定对策。在这段时间里，我可以看它怎样行动，是否有什么变化。把那两把桨放在那儿是个好计策；不过已经到了该安全行事的时候。这鱼依旧很厉害。我看见过钓钩挂在它的嘴角，它把嘴闭得紧紧的。钓钩的折磨算不上什么。饥饿的折磨，加上还得对付它不了解的对手，才是天大的麻烦。歇歇吧，老家伙，让它去干它的事，等轮到该你干的时候再说。
他认为自己已经歇了两个钟点。月亮要等到很晚才爬上来，他没法判断时间。实在他并没有好好休息，只能说是多少歇了一会儿。他肩上依旧承受着鱼的拉力，不过他把左手按在船头的舷上，把对抗鱼的拉力的任务越来越让小船本身来承担了。
要是能把钓索栓住，那事情会变得多简单啊，他想。可是只消鱼稍微歪一歪，就能把钓索绷断。我必须用自己的身子来缓冲这钓索的拉力，随时准备用双手放出钓索。
“不过你还没睡觉呢，老头儿，"他说出声来。"已经熬过了半个白天和一夜，现在又是一个白天，可你一直没睡觉。你必须想个办法，趁鱼安静稳定的时候睡上一会儿。如果你不睡觉，你会搞得脑筋糊涂起来。”
我脑筋够清醒的，他想。太清醒啦。我跟星星一样清醒，它们是我的兄弟。不过我还是必须睡觉。它们睡觉，月亮和太阳都睡觉，连海洋有时候也睡觉，那是在某些没有激浪，平静无波的日子里。
可别忘了睡觉，他想。强迫你自己睡觉，想出些简单而稳妥的办法来安排那根钓索。现在回到船梢去处理那条鲯鳅吧。如果你一定要睡觉的话，把桨绑起来拖在水里可就太危险啦。
我不睡觉也能行，他对自己说。不过这太危险啦。他用双手双膝爬回船梢，小心避免猛地惊动那条鱼。它也许正半睡半醒的，他想。可是我不想让它休息。必须要它拖曳着一直到死去。
回到了船梢，他转身让左手攥住紧勒在肩上的钓索，用右手从刀鞘中拔出刀子。星星这时很明亮，他清楚地看见那条鲯鳅，就把刀刃扎进它的头部，把它从船梢下拉出来。他用一只脚踩在鱼身上，从肛门朝上，倏的一刀直剖到它下颌的尖端。然后他放下刀子，用右手掏出内脏，掏干净了，把鳃也干脆拉下了。他觉得鱼胃在手里重甸甸、滑溜溜的，就把它剖开来。里面有两条小飞鱼。它们还很新鲜、坚实，他把它们并排放下，把内脏和鱼鳃从船梢扔进水中。它们沉下去时，在水中拖着一道磷光。鲯鳅是冰冷的，这时在星光里显得象麻风病患者般灰白，老人用右脚踩住鱼头，剥下鱼身上一边的皮。他然后把鱼翻转过来，剥掉另一边的皮，把鱼身两边的肉从头到尾割下来。
他把鱼骨悄悄地丢到舷外，注意看它是不是在水里打转。但是只看到它慢慢沉下时的磷光。跟着他转过身来，把两条飞鱼夹在那两爿鱼肉中间，把刀子插进刀鞘，慢慢儿挪动身子，回到船头。他被钓索上的分量拉得弯了腰，右手拿着鱼肉。
回到船头后，他把两爿鱼肉摊在船板上，旁边搁着飞鱼。然后他把勒在肩上的钓索换一个地方，又用左手攥住了钓索，手搁在船舷上。接着他靠在船舷上，把飞鱼在水里洗洗，留意着水冲击在他手上的速度。他的手因为剥了鱼皮而发出磷光，他仔细察看水流怎样冲击他的手。水流并不那么有力了，当他把手的侧面在小船船板上擦着的时候，星星点点的磷质漂浮开去，慢慢朝船梢漂去。
“它越来越累了，要不就是在休息，”老人说。“现在我来把这鲯鳅全吃了，休息一下，睡一会儿吧。”
在星光下，在越来越冷的夜色里，他把一爿鱼肉吃了一半，还吃了一条已经挖去了内脏、切掉了脑袋的飞鱼。"鲯鳅煮熟了吃味道多鲜美啊，"他说。“生吃可难吃死了。以后不带盐或酸橙，我绝对不再乘船了。”
如果我有头脑，我会整天把海水瓶在船头上，等它干了就会有盐了，他想。不过话得说回来，我是直到太阳快落山时才钓到这条鲯鳅的。但毕竟是准备工作做得不足。然而我把它全细细咀嚼后吃下去了，没有恶心作呕。
东方天空中云越来越多，他认识的星星一颗颗地不见了。眼下仿佛他正驶进一个云彩的大峡谷，风已经停了。
“三四天内会有坏天气，"他说。"但是今晚和明天还不要紧。现在来安排一下，老家伙，睡它一会儿，趁这鱼正安静而稳定的时候。”
他把钓索紧握在右手里，然后拿大腿抵住了右手，把全身的重量压在船头的木板上。跟着他把勒在肩上的钓索移下一点儿，用左手撑住了钓索。
只要钓索给撑紧着，我的右手就能握住它，他想。如果我睡着时它松了，朝外溜去，我的左手会把我弄醒的。这对右手是很吃重的。但是它是吃惯了苦的。哪怕我能睡上二十分钟或者半个钟点，也是好的。他朝前把整个身子夹住钓索，把全身的重量放在右手上，于是他入睡了。
他没有梦见狮子，却梦见了一大群海豚，伸展八到十英里长，这时正是它们交配的季节，它们会高高地跳到半空中，然后掉回到它们跳跃时在水里形成的水涡里。
接着他梦见他在村子里，躺在自己的床上，正在刮北风，他感到很冷，他的右臂麻木了，因为他的头枕在它上面，而不是枕头上。
在这以后，他梦见那道长长的黄色海滩，看见第一头狮子在傍晚时分来到海滩上，接着其他狮子也来了，于是他把下巴搁在船头的木板上，船抛下了锚停泊在那里，晚风吹向海面，他等着看有没有更多的狮子来，感到很快乐。
月亮升起有好久了，可他只顾睡着，鱼平稳地向前拖着，船驶进云彩的峡谷里。
他的右拳猛的朝他的脸撞去，钓索火辣辣地从他右手里溜出去，他惊醒过来了。他的左手失去了知觉，他就用右手拚命拉住了钓索，但它还是一个劲儿地朝外溜。他的左手终于抓住了钓索，他仰着身子把钓索朝后拉，这一来钓索火辣辣地勒着他的背脊和左手，这左手承受了全部的拉力，给勒得好痛。他回头望望那些钓索卷儿，它们正在滑溜地放出钓索。正在这当儿，鱼跳起来了，使海面大大地迸裂开来，然后沉重地掉下去。接着它跳了一次又一次，船走得很快，然而钓索依旧飞也似地向外溜，老人把它拉紧到就快绷断的程度，他一次次把它拉紧到就快绷断的程度。他被拉得紧靠在船头上，脸庞贴在那爿切下的鲯鳅肉上，他没法动弹。我们等着的事儿发生啦，他想。我们来对付它吧。
让它为了拖钓索付出代价吧，他想。让它为了这个付出代价吧。
他看不见鱼的跳跃，只听得见海面的迸裂声，和鱼掉下时沉重的水花飞溅声。飞快地朝外溜的钓索把他的手勒得好痛，但是他一直知道这事迟早会发生，就设法让钓索勒在起老茧的部位，不让它滑到掌心或者勒在手指头上。
如果那孩子在这儿，他会用水打湿这些钓索卷儿，他想。是啊。如果孩子在这儿。如果孩子在这儿。
钓索朝外溜着，溜着，溜着，不过这时越来越慢了，他正在让鱼每拖走一英寸都得付出代价。现在他从木船板上抬起头来，不再贴在那爿被他脸颊压烂的鱼肉上了。然后他跪着，然后慢慢儿站起身来。他正在放出钓索，然而越来越慢了。他把身子慢慢挪到可以用脚碰到那一卷卷他看不见的钓索的地方。钓索还有很多，现在这鱼不得不在水里拖着这许多摩擦力大的新钓索了。
是啊，他想。到这时它已经跳了不止十二次，把沿着背脊的那些液囊装满了空气，所以没法沉到深水中，在那儿死去，使我没法把它捞上来。它不久就会转起圈子来，那时我一定想法对付它。不知道它怎么会这么突然地跳起来的。敢情饥饿使它不顾死活了，还是在夜间被什么东西吓着了？也许它突然感到害怕了。不过它是一条那样沉着、健壮的鱼，似乎是毫无畏惧而信心十足的。这很奇怪。
“你最好自己也毫无畏惧而信心十足，老家伙，"他说。
“你又把它拖住了，可是你没法收回钓索。不过它马上就得打转了。”
老人这时用他的左手和肩膀拽住了它，弯下身去，用右手舀水洗掉粘在脸上的压烂的鲯鳅肉。他怕这肉会使他恶心，弄得他呕吐，丧失力气。擦干净了脸，他把右手在船舷外的水里洗洗，然后让它泡在这盐水里，一面注视着日出前的第一线曙光。它几乎是朝正东方走的，他想。这表明它疲乏了，随着潮流走。它马上就得打转了。那时我们才真正开始干啦。等他觉得把右手在水里泡的时间够长了，他把它拿出水来，朝它瞧着。
“情况不坏，"他说。“疼痛对一条汉子来说，算不上什么。”
他小心地攥着钓索，使它不致嵌进新勒破的任何一道伤痕，把身子挪到小船的另一边，这样他能把左手伸进海里。
“你这没用的东西，总算干得还不坏，"他对他的左手说。
“可是曾经有一会儿，我得不到你的帮助。”
为什么我不生下来就有两只好手呢？他想。也许是我自己的过错，没有好好儿训练这只手。可是天知道它曾有过够多的学习机会。然而它今天夜里干得还不错，仅仅抽了一回筋。要是它再抽筋，就让这钓索把它勒断吧。
他想到这里，明白自己的头脑不怎么清醒了，他想起应该再吃一点鲯鳅。可是我不能，他对自己说。情愿头昏目眩，也不能因恶心欲吐而丧失力气。我还知道吃了胃里也搁不住，因为我的脸曾经压在它上面。我要把它留下以防万一，直到它腐臭了为止。不过要想靠营养来增强力气，如今已经太晚了。你真蠢，他对自己说。把另外那条飞鱼吃了吧。
它就在那儿，已经洗干净，就可以吃了，他就用左手把它捡起，吃起来，细细咀嚼着鱼骨，从头到尾全都吃了。
它几乎比什么鱼都更富有营养，他想。至少能给我所需要的那种力气。我如今已经做到了我能做到的一切，他想。让这鱼打起转来，就来交锋吧。
自从他出海以来，这是第三次出太阳，这时鱼打起转来了。
他根据钓索的斜度还看不出鱼在打转。这为时尚早。他仅仅感觉到钓索上的拉力微微减少了一些，就开始用右手轻轻朝里拉。钓索象往常那样绷紧了，可是拉到快迸断的当儿，却渐渐可以回收了。他把钓索从肩膀和头上卸下来，动手平稳而和缓地回收钓索。他用两只手大幅度地一把把拉着，尽量使出全身和双腿的力气来拉。他一把把地拉着，两条老迈的腿儿和肩膀跟着转动。
“这圈子可真大，"他说。"它可总算在打转啦。”
跟着钓索就此收不回来了，他紧紧拉着，竟看见水珠儿在阳光里从钓索上迸出来。随后钓索开始往外溜了，老人跪下了，老大不愿地让它又渐渐回进深暗的水中。
“它正绕到圈子的对面去了，"他说。我一定要拚命拉紧，他想。拉紧了，它兜的圈子就会一次比一次小。也许一个钟点内我就能见到它。我眼下一定要稳住它，过后我一定要弄死它。
但是这鱼只顾慢慢地打着转，两小时后，老人浑身汗湿，疲乏得入骨了。不过这时圈子已经小得多了，而且根据钓索的斜度，他能看出鱼一边游一边在不断地上升。
老人看见眼前有些黑点子，已经有一个钟点了，汗水中的盐份沤着他的眼睛，沤着眼睛上方和脑门上的伤口。他不怕那些黑点子。他这么紧张地拉着钓索，出现黑点子是正常的现象。但是他已有两回感到头昏目眩，这叫他担心。
“我不能让自己垮下去，就这样死在一条鱼的手里，"他说。"既然我已经叫它这样漂亮地过来了，求天主帮助我熬下去吧。我要念一百遍《天主经》和一百遍《圣母经》。不过眼下还不能念。”
就算这些已经念过了吧，他想。我过后会念的。
就在这当儿，他觉得自己双手攥住的钓索突然给撞击、拉扯了一下。来势很猛，有一种强劲的感觉，很是沉重。
它正用它的长嘴撞击着铁丝导线，他想。这是免不了的。它不能不这样干。然而这一来也许会使它跳起来，我可是情愿它眼下继续打转的。它必须跳出水面来呼吸空气。但是每跳一次，钓钩造成的伤口就会裂得大一些，它可能把钓钩甩掉。“别跳，鱼啊，"他说。"别跳啦。”
鱼又撞击了铁丝导线好几次，它每次一甩头，老人就放出一些钓索。
我必须让它的疼痛老是在一处地方，他想。我的疼痛不要紧。我能控制。但是它的疼痛能使它发疯。
过了片刻，鱼不再撞击铁丝，又慢慢地打起转来。老人这时正不停地收进钓索。可是他又感到头晕了。他用左手舀了些海水，洒在脑袋上。然后他再洒了点，在脖颈上揉擦着。
“我没抽筋，"他说。"它马上就会冒出水来，我熬得住。你非熬下去不可。连提也别再提了吧。”
他靠着船头跪下，暂时又把钓索挎在背上。我眼下要趁它朝外兜圈子的时候歇一下，等它兜回来的时候再站起身来对付它，他这样下了决心。
他巴不得在船头上歇一下，让鱼自顾自兜一个圈子，并不回收一点钓索。但是等到钓索松动了一点，表明鱼已经转身在朝小船游回来，老人就站起身来，开始那种左右转动交替拉曳的动作，他的钓索全是这样收回来的。
我从来没有这样疲乏过，他想，而现在刮起贸易风来了。但是正好靠它来把这鱼拖回去。我多需要这风啊。
“等它下一趟朝外兜圈子的时候，我要歇一下，"他说。
“我觉得好过多了。再兜两三圈，我就能逮住它。”他的草帽被推到后脑勺上去了，他感到鱼在转身，随着钓索一扯，他在船头上一起股坐下了。
你现在忙你的吧，鱼啊，他想。你转身时我再来对付你。海浪大了不少。不过这是晴天吹的微风，他得靠它才能回去。
“我只消朝西南航行就成，"他说。"人在海上是决不会迷路的，何况这是个长长的岛屿。"①
鱼兜到第三圈，他才第一次看见它。
他起先看见的是一个黑乎乎的影子，它需要那么长的时间从船底下经过，他简直不相信它有这么长。
①指古巴这个东西向的大岛。
“不能，"他说。"它哪能这么大啊。”
但是它当真有这么大，这一圈兜到末了，它冒出水来，只有三十码远，老人看见它的尾巴露出在水面上。这尾巴比一把大镰刀的刀刃更高，是极淡的浅紫色，竖在深蓝色的海面上。它朝后倾斜着，鱼在水面下游的时候，老人看得见它庞大的身躯和周身的紫色条纹。它的脊鳍朝下耷拉着，巨大的胸鳍大张着。
这回鱼兜圈子回来时，老人看见它的眼睛和绕着它游的两条灰色的乳鱼。它们有时候依附在它身上。有时候倏地游开去。有时候会在它的阴影里自在地游着。它们每条都有三英尺多长，游得快时全身猛烈地甩动着，象鳗鱼一般。
老人这时在冒汗，但不光是因为晒了太阳，还有别的原因。鱼每回沉着、平静地拐回来时，他总收回一点钓索，所以他确信再兜上两个圈子，就能有机会把鱼叉扎进去了。
可是我必须把它拉得极近，极近，极近，他想。我千万不能扎它的脑袋。我该扎进它的心脏。
“要沉着，要有力，老头儿，"他说。
又兜了一圈，鱼的背脊露出来了，不过它离小船还是太远了一点。再兜了一圈，还是太远，但是它露出在水面上比较高些了，老人深信，再收回一些钓索，就可以把它拉到船边来。
他早就把鱼叉准备停当，叉上的那卷细绳子给搁在一只圆筐内，一端紧系在船头的系缆柱上。
这时鱼正兜了一个圈子回来，既沉着又美丽，只有它的大尾巴在动。老人竭尽全力把它拉得近些。有那么一会儿，鱼的身子倾斜了一点儿。然后它竖直了身子，又兜起圈子来。
“我把它拉动了，”老人说。“我刚才把它拉动了。”
他又感到头晕，可是他竭尽全力拽住了那条大鱼。我把它拉动了，他想。也许这一回我能把它拉过来。拉呀，手啊，他想。站稳了，腿儿。为了我熬下去吧，头。为了我熬下去吧。你从没晕倒过。这一回我要把它拉过来。
但是，等他把浑身的力气都使出来，趁鱼还没来到船边，还很远时就动手，使出全力拉着，那鱼却侧过一半身子，然后竖直了身子游开去。
“鱼啊，”老人说。“鱼，你反正是死定了。难道你非得把我也害死吗？”
照这样下去是会一事无成的，他想。他嘴里干得说不出话来，但是此刻他不能伸手去拿水来喝。我这一回必须把它拉到船边来，他想。它再多兜几圈，我就不行了。不，你是行的，他对自己说。你永远行的。在兜下一圈时，他差一点把它拉了过来。可是这鱼又竖直了身子，慢慢地游走了。
你要把我害死啦，鱼啊，老人想。不过你有权利这样做。我从没见过比你更庞大、更美丽、更沉着或更崇高的东西，老弟。来，把我害死吧。我不在乎谁害死谁。
你现在头脑糊涂起来啦，他想。你必须保持头脑清醒。保持头脑清醒，要象个男子汉，懂得怎样忍受痛苦。或者象一条鱼那样，他想。
“清醒过来吧，头，"他用自己也简直听不见的声音说。"清醒过来吧。”
鱼又兜了两圈，还是老样子。
我弄不懂，老人想。每一回他都觉得自己快要垮了。我弄不懂。但我还要试一下。
他又试了一下，等他把鱼拉得转过来时，他感到自己要垮了。那鱼竖直了身子，又慢慢地游开去，大尾巴在海面上摇摆着。
我还要试一下，老人对自己许愿，尽管他的双手这时已经软弱无力，眼睛也不好使，只看得见间歇的一起。