Santiago needs nourishment and moisture for the strength to bring the fish in, so he shakes some small shrimp out of a bed of seaweed, eats them, and drinks half of one of the two remaining drinks he has left in the water bottle. As he steers toward home, his head becomes a bit unclear, and he begins to wonder whether he is bringing the fish in or the fish is bringing him in. He thinks that he should let the fish bring him in, if doing so pleases the fish, for he has only bested the fish through trickery and the fish meant him no harm. As they speed together toward home, the old man keeps looking at the fish, to remind himself what he truly has done.
Within an hour, the first shark attacks. The attack is no accident. Following the scent of blood, the mako charges out of the depths, homing in. The mako is fast and fearless, well-armed, built to feed on all the fish in the sea, and beautiful except for its jaws. Most of all, it is no scavenger. Its teeth are long, like an old man's fingers, but crisped like claws. Santiago prepares the harpoon, though the rope is short because of what he cut away to lash the marlin to the skiff. His head is clear now and he realizes how little he can do to prevent the shark from hitting the marlin. Still, he hopes to get the shark, and he wishes bad luck to its mother.
