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"
Dolphin
,
"
the
old
man
said
aloud
.
"
Big
dolphin
.
"
He
shipped
his
oars
and
brought
a
small
line
from
under
the
bow
.
It
had
a
wire
leader
and
a
medium
-
sized
hook
and
he
baited
it
with
one
of
the
sardines
.
He
let
it
go
over
the
side
and
then
made
it
fast
to
a
ring
bolt
in
the
stern
.
Then
he
baited
another
line
and
left
it
coiled
in
the
shade
of
the
bow
.
He
went
back
to
rowing
and
to
watching
the
long
-
winged
black
bird
who
was
working
,
now
,
low
over
the
water
.
As
he
watched
the
bird
dipped
again
slanting
his
wings
for
the
dive
and
then
swinging
them
wildly
and
ineffectually
as
he
followed
the
flying
fish
.
The
old
man
could
see
the
slight
bulge
in
the
water
that
the
big
dolphin
raised
as
they
followed
the
escaping
fish
.
The
dolphin
were
cutting
through
the
water
below
the
flight
of
the
fish
and
would
be
in
the
water
,
driving
at
speed
,
when
the
fish
dropped
.
It
is
a
big
school
of
dolphin
,
he
thought
.
They
are
wide
spread
and
the
flying
fish
have
little
chance
.
The
bird
has
no
chance
.
The
flying
fish
are
too
big
for
him
and
they
go
too
fast
.
He
watched
the
flying
fish
burst
out
again
and
again
and
the
ineffectual
movements
of
the
bird
.
That
school
has
gotten
away
from
me
,
he
thought
.
They
are
moving
out
too
fast
and
too
far
.
But
perhaps
I
will
pick
up
a
stray
and
perhaps
my
big
fish
is
around
them
.
My
big
fish
must
be
somewhere
.
The
clouds
over
the
land
now
rose
like
mountains
and
the
coast
was
only
a
long
green
line
with
the
gray
blue
hills
behind
it
.
The
water
was
a
dark
blue
now
,
so
dark
that
it
was
almost
purple
.
As
he
looked
down
into
it
he
saw
the
red
sifting
of
the
plankton
in
the
dark
water
and
the
strange
light
the
sun
made
now
.
He
watched
his
lines
to
see
them
go
straight
down
out
of
sight
into
the
water
and
he
was
happy
to
see
so
much
plankton
because
it
meant
fish
.
The
strange
light
the
sun
made
in
the
water
,
now
that
the
sun
was
higher
,
meant
good
weather
and
so
did
the
shape
of
the
clouds
over
the
land
.
But
the
bird
was
almost
out
of
sight
now
and
nothing
showed
on
the
surface
of
the
water
but
some
patches
of
yellow
,
sun
-
bleached
Sargasso
weed
and
the
purple
,
formalized
,
iridescent
,
gelatinous
bladder
of
a
Portuguese
man
-
of
-
war
floating
close
beside
the
boat
.
It
turned
on
its
side
and
then
righted
itself
.
It
floated
cheerfully
as
a
bubble
with
its
long
deadly
purple
filaments
trailing
a
yard
behind
it
in
the
water
.
"
Agua
mala
,
"
the
man
said
.
"
You
whore
.
"
From
where
he
swung
lightly
against
his
oars
he
looked
down
into
the
water
and
saw
the
tiny
fish
that
were
coloured
like
the
trailing
filaments
and
swam
between
them
and
under
the
small
shade
the
bubble
made
as
it
drifted
.
They
were
immune
to
its
poison
.
But
men
were
not
and
when
some
of
the
filaments
would
catch
on
a
line
and
rest
there
slimy
and
purple
while
the
old
man
was
working
a
fish
,
he
would
have
welts
and
sores
on
his
arms
and
hands
of
the
sort
that
poison
ivy
or
poison
oak
can
give
.
But
these
poisonings
from
the
agua
mala
came
quickly
and
struck
like
a
whiplash
.
The
iridescent
bubbles
were
beautiful
.
But
they
were
the
falsest
thing
in
the
sea
and
the
old
man
loved
to
see
the
big
sea
turtles
eating
them
.
