Santiago notices that the marlin has slowed its pull on the line. He considers lashing the oars together across the stern to increase the boat's drag. He leans forward, pressing against the wood of the skiff so that it takes much of the strain of the line from his back. He feels good that he is learning the best way to handle the line and that he has eaten once and will again soon, while the great marlin has eaten nothing.
As the stars come out, Santiago thinks of them as his distant friends. He considers the marlin his friend, too, and marvels that he has never seen or heard of such a fish as this one, yet he must kill it. He considers that humans are lucky that they don't have to try to kill the stars, the sun, or the moon; it is bad enough they have to kill their brother creatures. Even as he remains determined to kill the marlin, Santiago feels sorry that it has had nothing to eat. He feels that the people it will feed are not worthy of this great fish.
Santiago decides to be cautious and not use the oars for drag, relying instead on the fish's hunger and its inability to understand what it is up against. He chooses instead to rest for a while, as much as he can, until his next duty. He determines to sleep to keep himself clear-headed, just as the stars, the moon, the sun, and even the ocean sleep. But he decides first to eat the dolphin.
