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He
did
not
remember
when
he
had
first
started
to
talk
aloud
when
he
was
by
himself
.
He
had
sung
when
he
was
by
himself
in
the
old
days
and
he
had
sung
at
night
sometimes
when
he
was
alone
steering
on
his
watch
in
the
smacks
or
in
the
turtle
boats
.
He
had
probably
started
to
talk
aloud
,
when
alone
,
when
the
boy
had
left
.
But
he
did
not
remember
.
When
he
and
the
boy
fished
together
they
usually
spoke
only
when
it
was
necessary
.
They
talked
at
night
or
when
they
were
storm
-
bound
by
bad
weather
.
It
was
considered
a
virtue
not
to
talk
unnecessarily
at
sea
and
the
old
man
had
always
considered
it
so
and
respected
it
.
But
now
he
said
his
thoughts
aloud
many
times
since
there
was
no
one
that
they
could
annoy
.
"
If
the
others
heard
me
talking
out
loud
they
would
think
that
I
am
crazy
,
"
he
said
aloud
.
"
But
since
I
am
not
crazy
,
I
do
not
care
.
And
the
rich
have
radios
to
talk
to
them
in
their
boats
and
to
bring
them
the
baseball
.
"
Now
is
no
time
to
think
of
baseball
,
he
thought
.
Now
is
the
time
to
think
of
only
one
thing
.
That
which
I
was
born
for
.
There
might
be
a
big
one
around
that
school
,
he
thought
.
I
picked
up
only
a
straggler
from
the
albacore
that
were
feeding
.
But
they
are
working
far
out
and
fast
.
Everything
that
shows
on
the
surface
today
travels
very
fast
and
to
the
north
-
east
.
Can
that
be
the
time
of
day
?
Or
is
it
some
sign
of
weather
that
I
do
not
know
?
He
could
not
see
the
green
of
the
shore
now
but
only
the
tops
of
the
blue
hills
that
showed
white
as
though
they
were
snow
-
capped
and
the
clouds
that
looked
like
high
snow
mountains
above
them
.
The
sea
was
very
dark
and
the
light
made
prisms
in
the
water
.
The
myriad
flecks
of
the
plankton
were
annulled
now
by
the
high
sun
and
it
was
only
the
great
deep
prisms
in
the
blue
water
that
the
old
man
saw
now
with
his
lines
going
straight
down
into
the
water
that
was
a
mile
deep
.
The
tuna
,
the
fishermen
called
all
the
fish
of
that
species
tuna
and
only
distinguished
among
them
by
their
proper
names
when
they
came
to
sell
them
or
to
trade
them
for
baits
,
were
down
again
.
The
sun
was
hot
now
and
the
old
man
felt
it
on
the
back
of
his
neck
and
felt
the
sweat
trickle
down
his
back
as
he
rowed
.
I
could
just
drift
,
he
thought
,
and
sleep
and
put
a
bight
of
line
around
my
toe
to
wake
me
.
But
today
is
eighty
-
five
days
and
I
should
fish
the
day
well
.
Just
then
,
watching
his
lines
,
he
saw
one
of
the
projecting
green
sticks
dip
sharply
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
said
.
"
Yes
,
"
and
shipped
his
oars
without
bumping
the
boat
.
He
reached
out
for
the
line
and
held
it
softly
between
the
thumb
and
forefinger
of
his
right
hand
.
He
felt
no
strain
nor
weight
and
he
held
the
line
lightly
.
Then
it
came
again
.
This
time
it
was
a
tentative
pull
,
not
solid
nor
heavy
,
and
he
knew
exactly
what
it
was
.
One
hundred
fathoms
down
a
marlin
was
eating
the
sardines
that
covered
the
point
and
the
shank
of
the
hook
where
the
hand
-
forged
hook
projected
from
the
head
of
the
small
tuna
.
The
old
man
held
the
line
delicately
,
and
softly
,
with
his
left
hand
,
unleashed
it
from
the
stick
.
Now
he
could
let
it
run
through
his
fingers
without
the
fish
feeling
any
tension
.
