Now,he thought,I must think about the drag.It has its perils and its merits.I may lose so much line that I will lose him,if he makes his effort and the drag made by the oars is in place and the boat loses all her lightness.Her lightness prolongs both our suffering but it is my safety since he has great speed that he has never yet employed.No matter what passes must gut the dolphin so he does not spoil and eat some of him to be strong.
He started to work his way back to the stern on his hands and knees,being careful not to jerk against the fish.He may be half asleep himself,he thought.
“If you're not tired,fish,”he said aloud,“you must be very strange.”
Imagine if each day a man must try to kill the moon,he thought.The moon runs away.But imagine if a man each day should have to try to kill the sun?We were born lucky,he thought.
Back in the bow he laid the two fillets of fish out on the wood with the flying fish beside them.After that he settled the line across his shoulders in a new place and held it again with his left hand resting on the gunwale.Then he leaned over the side and washed the flying fish in the water,noting the speed of the water against his hand.His hand was phosphorescent from skinning the fish and he watched the flow of the water against it. The flow was less strong and as he rubbed the sides of his hand against the planking of the skiff,particles of phosphorus floated off and drifted slowly astern.