All language subtitles for The.Old.Man.and.the.Sea.1958.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[male narrator]
He was an old man
who fished alone

in a skiff in the Gulf Stream

and he had gone 84 days now
without taking a fish.

In the first 40 days,
a boy had been with him.

But after 40 days
without a fish

the boy's parents had told him

that the old man
was now definitely

and finally salao

which is the worst form
of unlucky

and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat

which caught three good fish
the first week.

The old man had taught
the boy to fish

and the boy loved him.

The old man was gray
and wrinkled

with deep furrows
in the back of his neck

and his hands had
the deep, creased scars

from handling heavy fish
on the cords.

But none of these scars
were fresh.

They were as old as erosions

in a fishless desert.

Everything about him was old
except his eyes.

And they were the same color
as the sea

and were cheerful
and undefeated.

[instrumental music]

It made the boy sad
to see the old man

come in each day
with his skiff empty.

He always went down
to help him carry

th-the coil lines
of the gaff and harpoon

and the sail that was furled
around the mast.

The sail was patched
with flour sacks and furled.

It looked like the flag
of permanent defeat.

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

No one would steal
from the old man

but it was better
to take the sail

and the heavy lines home

as the dew was bad for them.

And though he was quite sure
no local people would steal

from the old man, thought
that a gaff and a harpoon

were needless temptations
to leave in a boat.

The successful fishermen
of that day were already in

and had butchered
their marlin out

carried them
laid full-length

across two planks
to the fish house

where they waited
for the ice truck

to carry them
to the market in Havana.

[instrumental music]

[chicken clucking]

"Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace?" the boy asked.

"Why not?" the old man said.
"Between fishermen."

Two beers, Martin,
please.

[male narrator]
They sat on the Terrace
and many of the fishermen

made fun of the old man.

But he was not angry.

He did not remember
when he had attained humility

but he knew he had attained it

and he knew
it was not disgraceful

and it carried
no true loss of pride.

Some of the older fishermen
looked at him

and were sad,
but they did not show it.

They spoke politely
about the currents

and the depths they had drifted their lines at

and the steady good weather

and of what they had seen.

- Santiago.
- Yes?

Can I go out and get
the sardines for you tomorrow?

Oh, no, no, no.
You play ball.

I can still row

and I can still
throw the net.

I know where I can get
four fresh baits.

I still have mine
from today.

Let me get four fresh ones.

- One.
- Two.

Two.

You didn't steal them,
did you?

I wouldn't,
but I bought these.

Thank you.

If I cannot fish with you

I'd like to serve
in some way.

You bought me a beer.

You are already a man.

[instrumental music]

[rooster crows]

[male narrator]
They walked up the road
together.

The old man stood the mast
outside his shack.

In the old man's shack,
there was a bed, a table

some chairs, and a place
to cook with charcoal.

On the brown walls,
there was a picture in color

of the Sacred Heart of Jesus..

...and another
of the Virgin of Cobre.

These were relics of his wife.

Once, there had been
a tinted photograph

of his wife on the wall.

But he had taken it down
because it made him

too lonely to see it.

And it was on the shelf
in the corner

under his clean shirt.

[sighs]

Ah!

Tomorrow is the 85th day.

Eighty-five
is a lucky number.

How would you like
to see me bring one in

that dressed out
over a thousand pounds?

Are you strong enough now
for a truly big fish?

I think so.

And there are many tricks.

Santiago..

...I could go with you again.

We've made enough money.

No, no.

You are in a lucky boat.
You stay with them.

[Manolin]
'Remember how long we went
without fish before?'

Mmm.

Then we caught big ones

every day for three weeks.

Mmm, I remember.

I know you did not leave me

because you lost confidence.

It was my papa made me leave.

I am a boy and I must obey him.

Of course, of course.
It is quite normal.

- He hasn't much faith.
- 'No.'

- But we have, haven't we?
- Yes.

If you were my boy,
I would take you out again.

But you are your father's
and your mother's

and you are in a lucky boat.

What do you have to eat?

Oh, I have a pot
of yellow rice and some fish.

Would you like some?

No. I'll eat at home.

May I take the cast net?

Of course.

I have yesterday's newspaper.

I will read the baseball.

[male narrator]
There was no cast net.

The boy remembered
when they had sold it.

But they went through
this fiction every day.

There was no pot
of yellow rice and fish

and the boy knew this.

He didn't know
whether yesterday's paper

was a fiction too.

But the old man had brought it out from under the bed.

Keep warm, old man.

'Sit in the sun.
Remember, we're in September.'

The month of the big fish.

Anybody can be a fisherman
in May.

I'll be back
when I get the sardines.

Then, you can tell me
about the baseball.

[instrumental music]

[indistinct chatter]

- Hey, Manolin, come on.
- Play first base.

Hey, yeah. Come on.

[music continues]

Manolin.

A dinner for two, please.

To take out.

You don't eat at home
anymore?

- How much do you have to spend?
- Sixty cents.

No luck yet, huh?

You know, maybe it's not luck
at all.

Maybe he's too old.

He's not too old.
You'll see.

- I said, "Maybe."
- Not even "Maybe."

Alright.

I only hope
when I'm an old man

I have a boy
to fish for me.

[male narrator]
When the boy came back,
the old man was asleep

in a chair
and the sun was going down.

His shoulders
were still powerful

although very old.

And the neck
was still strong too.

The creases
did not show so much

when the old man was asleep.

His head was very old though.

And with his eyes closed, there was no life in his face.

Wake up, old man.

[male narrator]
The old man opened his eyes,
and for a long moment

he was coming back
from a long way away.

Then he smiled.

What have you got?

- We're gonna have supper.
- I'm not very hungry.

Come on and eat.
You can't fish and not eat.

I have.

You won't fish without eating

while I'm alive.

Well, then you live
a long time

and take good care
of yourself.

Who, who gave this to you?

- Martin at the Terrace.
- Oh.

Well.

I must be sure and thank him.

I thanked him already.

You don't need to thank him.

[male narrator]
They had eaten with no light
on the table

and it was dark now.

The old man
had talked to the boy

about the baseball
as they always did.

About the great DiMaggio
and how he was himself again

and about the other men
on the team.

Tell me about
the great John J. McGraw.

Mmm, he used to come

to the Terrace sometimes

in the olden days too.

His mind was on the horses,
I think

as much as it was
on the baseball.

At least, he used
to carry lists of horses

in his pocket at all times.

And frequently, he would speak

the names of horses
on the telephone.

He was a great manager.

My father thinks
he was the greatest.

That's because he came here
the most times.

If Durocher
had continued coming here

your father would think

he was the greatest manager.

Who is the greatest manager,
really?

I think they are all equal.

Sometime, I would like to take

the great DiMaggio fishing.

They say his father
was a fisherman.

Maybe he was poor
like we are

and he would understand.

You ought to go to bed
so that you'll be fresh

in the morning.

I'll take these things
back to the Terrace.

Oh, goodnight.

- See you in the morning.
- You're my alarm clock.

Age is my alarm clock.

- Sleep well, old man.
- Thank you.

Goodnight.

[male narrator]
The boy went out
and the old man thought

"Why do old men wake so early?

Is it to have one longer day?"

[instrumental music]

Then, the old man rolled up
his trousers to make a pillow

putting the newspaper
inside them.

He rolled himself
in the blanket

and slept
on the other old newspapers

that covered
the springs of the bed.

He was asleep in a short time

and he dreamed of Africa,
when he was a boy.

[instrumental music]

He dreamed of
the long golden beaches

and the white beaches
so white they hurt your eyes.

And the high capes and the great brown mountains.

He lived along that coast now
every night.

And in his dreams
he heard the surf roar

and saw the native boats
come riding through it.

He smelled the tar and oakum
of the deck as he slept

and he smelled the smell
of Africa

that the land breeze
brought in the morning.

Usually when he smelled
the land breeze, he woke up

and dressed to go
to wake the boy.

But tonight, the smell
of the land breeze

came very early,
and he knew it was too early

in his dream
and went on dreaming

to see the white peaks of the island rising to the sea

and then he dreamed
of the different harbors

and roadsteads
of the Canary Islands.

He no longer dreamed
of storms nor of women

nor of great occurrences
nor of great fish

nor fights nor contests
of strength

nor of his wife.

He only dreamed of places now

and of the lions on the beach.

They played like young cats

and he loved them
as he loved the boy.

He never dreamed about the boy.

[growling]

[music continues]

In the dawn,
the old man simply woke

looked out the open door
at the dying moon

unrolled his trousers
and put them on..

...then went down the road
to wake the boy.

He was shivering
with the morning cold

but he knew that he would
shiver himself warm

and that soon,
he would be rowing.

The door of the house
where the boy lived

was unlocked and he opened it

and walked in quietly
with his bare feet.

The boy was asleep on a cot
in the first room

and the old man
could see him clearly.

He took hold of one foot gently

and held it until the boy woke

and turned and looked at him.

[instrumental music]

[indistinct singing]

The boy was sleepy

and the old man said,
"I'm sorry."

"It is what a man must do,"
the boy answered.

They walked down the road,
and all along the road

in the dark,
barefoot men were moving

carrying the masts
of their boats.

[singing continues]

[singing continues]

How did you sleep?

Very well, Manolin.
I feel confident today.

I do too.

I'll get the sardines.

Be right back.

Have another cup.
We have credit here.

[indistinct chatter]

[male narrator]
The old man
drank his coffee slowly.

It was all he would have
all day

and he knew
that he should take it.

For a long time now,
eating had bored him

and he never carried a lunch.

He had a bottle of water
at the bow of the skiff

and that was all
he needed for the day.

[indistinct singing]

[singing continues]

Good luck, old man.

Good luck.

[male narrator]
There were other boats
from the other beaches

going out to sea,
and the old man heard

the dip and push of their oars.

[singing continues]

[boat creaking]

[instrumental music]

In the dark, the old man could feel the morning coming.

And as he rode,
he heard the trembling sound

as flying fish left the water

and the hissing
that their stiff set wings

made as they soared away
in the darkness.

He was very fond of flying fish as they were

his principal friends
in the ocean.

[music continues]

He was sorry for the birds,
especially the small

delicate, dark terns that were always flying and looking

and almost never finding.

[music continues]

And he thought, "The birds
have a harder life than we do

"except for the robber birds
and the heavy, strong ones.

"Why did they make birds
so delicate and fine

"when the ocean
can be so cruel?

"She is kind
and very beautiful..

...but she can be so cruel."

[music continues]

The sun rose thinly
from the sea

and the old man
could see the other boats

low on the water
and well in toward the shore

spread out across the current.

He always thought of the sea
as"La mar"

which is what people
call her in Spanish

when they love her.

Sometimes, those who love her
say bad things of her..

...but they are always said
as though she were a woman.

Some of the younger fishermen
spoke of her

as a contestant or a place

or even an enemy..

...but the old man had always
thought of her as feminine

and as something that gave
or withheld great favors.

[blowing air]

"The moon affects her as it
does a woman," he thought.

[instrumental music]

Before it was really light,
he had his baits out

and was drifting
with the current.

One bait was down 40 fathoms,
the second was at 75

and the third and the fourth
were down in the blue water

at 100 and 125 fathoms.

Then, the sun was brighter
and the glare

came on the water,
and then, as it rose clear

the flat sea sent it back

to his eyes
so that it hurt sharply

and he rode
without looking into it.

He looked down into the water
and watched the lines

that went straight down
into the dark of the water.

Each bait hung head-down
with the shank of the hook

inside the bait reached tight and sewed solid.

And all of the projecting part of the hook, the curve

and the point was covered
with fresh sardines.

Each sardine was hooked
through both eyes

so that they made
a half garland

of the projecting steel.

There was no part of the hook

that a great fish could feel

that was not sweet-smelling

and good-tasting.

"I keep them with precision,"
he thought.

"Only, I have no luck anymore.

"But who knows? Maybe today.

"Every day is a new day.

"It is better to be lucky,
but I would rather be exact.

Then when luck comes,
you are ready."

[instrumental music]

The sun was two hours
higher now

and it did not hurt
his eyes so much

to look into the east.

Just then, he saw
a man-o'-war bird.

He made a quick drop,
slanting down

on his backswept wings

and then circled again.

He's not just looking.
He's found something.

[dramatic music]

[birds screeching]

Bonito.

You will make a beautiful bait.

[male narrator]
He did not remember
when he had first started

to talk aloud
when he was by himself.

In the old days, he had sung
at night sometimes

when he was alone staring at his watch on the turtle boats.

He had probably started
to talk aloud when alone

when the boy had left..

...but he did not remember.

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, many times

since there was no one
that they could annoy.

"If the others heard me,"
he thought

"they would think I am crazy.

"But since I am not crazy,
I do not care.

"And the rich have radios to talk to them on their boats

to bring them the baseball."

[fishing line scratching]

Yes. Yes.

[instrumental music]

[male narrator]
Then, he felt something hard
and unbelievably heavy.

It was the weight of the fish

and he let the line slip
down, down, down

unrolling off the first
of the two reserve coils.

This far out,
he must be huge in this month.

Eat them, fish. Eat them.

Please eat them.

How fresh they are

and you down deep
in that cold water in the dark.

Come on, now.

Make another turn.

Then eat them.
Just smell the sardines.

Then there is the tuna

cold and hard and lovely.

Come on, fish. Eat them.

Don't be shy.

He'll take it.

God help him to take it.

He can't have gone.

God knows he can't have gone.

He must be making another turn.

Perhaps he has been
hooked before

and he remembers part of it.

[fishing line scratching]

He was just turning.
He's going to take it.

What a fish!

Now he has it sideways
in his mouth..

...and he's going away with it.

[male narrator]
As it went down,
slipping lightly

through the old man's fingers

he could still feel
the great weight

though the pressure
of his thumb and finger

were almost imperceptible.

He's taken it.

Now let him eat it.

Eat it good, now, fish.

Go on, eat it.

Eat it until the point
of the hook

goes into your heart
and kills you.

Then come up nice and easy

and let me put
the harpoon into you.

[dramatic music]

Now, are you ready?

Have you been long enough
at table?

[male narrator]
Now the fish was struck

and the old man could feel
that he was hooked.

Now he should run
with the line or jump

or sound to the depths below

but nothing happened.

The fish just moved away slowly

and the old man
could not raise him an inch.

His line was strong
and made for heavy fish

and he held it
until it was so taut

that beads of water
were jumping from it.

Then the boat began to move

slowly off
toward the northwest.

The old man leaned back
against the pull.

The fish moved steadily

and they traveled slowly
on the calm water.

The other baits
were still in the water

but there was nothing
to be done.

[instrumental music]

This will kill him.

He can't keep this up forever.

But four hours later

the fish was still swimming

steadily out to sea,
towing the skiff

and the old man
was still braced solidly.

"What a fish
to pull like that!"

he thought.

"He must have his mouth
shut tight on the wire.

"I wish I could see him
only once

to know what I have
against me."

There was no land in sight now.

"That makes no difference,"
he thought.

"I can always come in
on the glare

off the lights from Havana."

It was noon when I hooked him

and I have not yet seen him.

I wish the boy was here.

[dramatic music]

[sighs]

I'm being towed by a fish

and I am the towing bitt.

[male narrator]
"What I will do if he decides
to go down, I don't know.

"What I'll do if he sounds
and dives, I don't know.

"But I'll do something.

"There are plenty of things
I can do.

I could make the line fast,"
he thought

"but then he could break it.

"I must hold him all I can

"and then give him line
when he must have it.

Thank God, he is traveling
and not going down."

It was cold after
the sun went down

and the old man's sweat
dried cold on his back

and his arms and his old legs.

"He didn't come up when the sun set," he thought.

"Maybe he will come up
with the moon.

"If he does not do that,
maybe he will

"come up with the sunrise.

"I wish I could see him.

"I wish I could see him
only once

to know what I have
against me."

Two porpoises
came around the boat

and he could hear them
rolling and blowing.

And he could tell
the difference between

the blowing noise
of the male mate

and the sighing blow
of the female.

"They're good," he thought.

"They play and make jokes
and love one another.

They are our brothers,
like the flying fish."

Then he began to pity
the great fish he had hooked.

"He is wonderful and strange," he thought.

"And who knows how old he is."

Never have I had
such a strong fish

or one that acted so strangely.

Maybe he's too wise to jump.

He could ruin me with a jump.

Or one quick rush.

Maybe he has been hooked
many times before

and he knows this is how
he must make his fight.

He took the bait like a male.

He moves like a male.

There is no panic in his fight.

I wonder if he has a plan

or if, if he's just
as desperate as I am.

I wish the boy was here.

[instrumental music]

[male narrator]
The fish never changed
his course

nor his direction
all that night

as far as the old man
could tell

from watching the stars.

He felt the strength
of the great fish

through the line
moving steadily

toward whatever he had chosen

and he thought "When once through my treachery

"it had been necessary
for him to make a choice.

"His choice had been to stay
in the deep water

"far out beyond all snares

"and traps and treacheries.

"My choice was to go there

"and find him
beyond all people.

"Beyond all people
in the world.

"Now, we are joined together

"and have been since noon.

And no one to help
either one of us."

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

"I have lost 200 fathoms
of good line

and hooks and leaders,"
he thought.

"That can be replaced.

"But who replaces this fish

"if I hook some fish
and it cuts him off?

"I don't know what the fish was

"that took the bait just now.

"Could have been a marlin
or a broadbill or a shark.

"I never felt him.

I had to get rid
of him too fast."

[instrumental music]

[fishing line scratching]

"I wonder what he made

that lurch for," he thought.

"The wire must have slipped

"on the great hill of his back.

"Certainly his back cannot feel as badly as mine does

"and he cannot pull
this skiff forever

no matter how strong he is."

[instrumental music]

"Please, God, let him jump.

"Maybe if I can increase
the tension a little more

"it will hurt him,
and he will jump.

"Let him jump,
so that he will

"fill the sacs
along his backbone with air

and then, he cannot go
deep to die."

Fish, I love you

and I respect you very much..

...but I will kill you
before this day ends.

[male narrator]
A small bird came toward
the skiff from the north.

He was a warbler
and flying very low

over the water.

And the old man could see

that he was very tired.

Hey.

How old are you?

Is this your first trip?

Why are you so tired?

What are birds coming to anyway?

[male narrator]
"The hawks," he thought

"that come out to sea
to meet them."

But he said nothing
of this to the bird

who could not understand
him anyway

and who'd learn
about the hawks soon enough.

It is alright, small bird.

You rest for a minute.

But then, you must go in
and you must take

your chances like every man

and every fish
and every bird must do.

I wish I could hoist my sail
and take you in

with the small breeze
that's rising

but I'm with a friend.

[fishing line scratching]

[dramatic music]

Something hurt him.

You're feeling it now, fish.

And so, God knows, am I.

[music continues]

[male narrator] "How did I let the fish cut me

with one pull he made?"
the old man thought.

"I must be getting very stupid.

"I better pay attention
to my work.

"And then I must eat the bonito

"so I will not have
a failure of strength.

"I wish the boy was here
to cut up the bonito

"and I wish I had some salt.

I don't think I can eat
an entire one."

[instrumental music]

[fishing line scratching]

What kind of a hand is that?

Go on. Cramp if you want to.

Make yourself into a claw.
It will do you no good.

[music continues]

I must eat the bonito..

...not to lose my strength.

Do not blame the hand.
It is not the hand's fault.

And you have been a long time
with the fish.

[music continues]

[sighs]

How do you feel, hand?

Or is it too early to know?

Maybe it will open
with the sun.

If I have to open it

I will open it.

Cost whatever it cost.

[male narrator]
"God help me to have
the cramp go," he thought

"because I don't know
what the fish is going to do.

"But he seems calm
and following his plan

"but what is his plan?

"What is mine?

"Mine, I must improvise to his

"because of his great size.

If he will jump," he thought

"I can kill him."

Hand. Come on, hand.

He's coming up. H-hand.

[dramatic music]

He's longer than the skiff.

[water splashes]

Oh, he's a great fish.

[music continues]

Thank God they are not
as intelligent

as we who kill them.

Although, they are more noble.

And more able.

[music continues]

I wonder why he jumped.

It's almost
as though he jumped

just to show me how big he was.

Bad news for you, fish.

[music continues]

[male narrator]
It was getting late
in the day now

and the skiff still moved
slowly and steadily.

[rain splattering]

The old man was suffering

although he did not admit

to suffering at all.

I am not religious..

...but I will say
ten Our Fathers

and ten Hail Marys
that I may catch this fish.

I will also make a pilgrimage

to the Virgin of Cobre.

That is a promise.

"Our Father, who art in heaven

hallowed be thy name.."

[male narrator]
He commenced to say
his prayers mechanically.

Sometimes,
he would be so tired

that he could not remember
the prayer.

And then he would
say them so fast

that they would
come automatically.

"Hail Marys are easier to say

than Our Fathers,"
he thought.

The old man felt very tired

and he knew that the night
would come soon

and he tried to think
of other things.

He thought of the big leagues.

To him,
they were the Gran Ligas.

And he knew
that the Yankees of New York

were playing
the Tigers of Detroit.

"This is the second day now
that I do not know

the results of the games,"
he thought.

Then, to give himself
more confidence..

...he remembered the time
in the tavern at Casablanca..

...when he played the hand game

with a Negro from Cienfuegos

who was the strongest man
on the docks.

He was not an old man then

but he was in his prime.

He and the Negro had gone
one day and one night

with their elbows on a chalked line on the table.

[upbeat music]

[glass clinks]

[intense music]

[chuckles]

[all clamoring]

There was much betting,
and the odds changed

back and forth all night.

And they changed
the referees every four hours

so that the referee
could get some sleep.

They fed the Negro rum.

Once, after the rum, the Negro made his all-out bid.

[all clamoring]

[dramatic music]

But the old man
raised his hand

up to dead even again.

He was sure
that he had the Negro

who was a fine man
and a great athlete, beaten.

[music continues]

[indistinct chatter]

Finally, at daylight,
when the bettors

were asking him
to call it a draw

because they had to go
to work on the docks..

...the old man unleashed
his greatest effort.

He knew that he had broken
the confidence of the Negro.

And now, he finished the bout

before anyone
had to go to work.

[all cheering]

[upbeat music]

For a long time after that

everyone had called him
"The champion."

How do you feel, fish?

I feel fine.

My left hand is better.

Pull the boat, fish.

[mellow music]

Just before it was dark,
as they passed

the great island
of Sargasso weed

that heaved and swung
on the light sea

as though the ocean
were making love

with something under
a yellow blanket

his small line had been
taken by a dolphin.

And he had brought it
into the skiff.

What an excellent
fish dolphin is..

...to eat cooked.

And what a miserable fish raw.

[music continues]

[male narrator]
"I had better
keep the fish quiet now

"and not disturb him
too much at sunset.

The setting of the sun is a difficult time for all fish."

[instrumental music]

It was darker now,
as it becomes dark

quickly after the sun sets
in September.

The first stars were out.

He did not know the name
of Rigel, but he saw it..

...and knew soon
they would be out

and he would have
all his distant friends.

"The fish is my friend too,"
he thought.

Never have I seen
or heard of such a fish.

But I must kill him.

I'm glad I do not
have to kill the stars.

[instrumental music]

Imagine how it would be
if every day

a man had to try
to kill the moon.

The moon runs away.

But think what it would be
if every day

he had to try to kill the sun.

We're born lucky.

[music continues]

[male narrator]
"It was half a day
and a night

"and now another day,
and you have not slept.

"If you do not sleep,
you might become

unclear in the head."

Rest now, old man.

Let him do the work..

...until it is time..

...for your next duty.

[male narrator]
He lay forward,
cramping himself

against the line
with his body

putting all his weight
on his left hand

and he was asleep.

He did not dream
of the lions

but instead,
of a vast school of porpoises

that stretched
for eight or ten miles.

And it was in the time
of their mating.

And they would leap high
into the air

and return in the same hole
they'd made

in the water
when they leaped.

Then, he dreamed he was
in the village, on his bed.

And there was a norther,
and he was very cold.

And his arm was asleep
because his head

had rested on it
instead of a pillow.

After that, he began to dream
of the long yellow beach

and he saw
the first of the lions.

And he waited to see
if there would be

more lions, and he was happy.

[instrumental music]

Then, he dreamed
of the whales that passed

along this coast in the fall.

And of their mating too

and of their friendliness
with each other

and of their play.

[music continues]

The moon had been up
for a long time

but he slept on.

And the fish
pulled on steadily

and the boat moved
into a tunnel of clouds.

He woke with a jerk
of his fist coming up

and the line burning out
through his hand.

[creaking]

[dramatic music]

[fish calling]

This is what we waited for.

[breathing heavily]
Now, let us take it.

Make him pay for the line.

Make him pay for it.

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

"I will show him
what a man can do

and what a man endures,"
he thought.

The thousand times he had proved it meant nothing.

Now, he was proving it again.

Each time was a new time.

And he never thought
about the past

when he was doing it.

"If the boy were here,
he could wet

the coils of the line,"
he thought.

"Yes, if the boy were here

if the boy were here."

[dramatic music]

[squeaking]

[music continues]

[male narrator]
"Now, he has jumped
and filled the sacs

"along his back with air.

"Now, he cannot go
down deep to die.

"He will start circling soon

then I must
start working on him."

Well, you didn't do so badly..

'...for something
that is worthless.'

[music continues]

Now, I have done my best.

He will begin to circle soon.

Let the fight come.

[male narrator]
The sun was rising
for the third time

since he had put out to sea.

The fish was circling slowly

and the old man
was wet with sweat

and tired deep
into his bones.

[music continues]

[breathing heavily]

I could not fail myself..

...now and die
on a fish like this.

Now that I have him
coming so beautifully

God help me to endure.

I will say one hundred
Our Fathers

and one hundred Hail Marys.

But I cannot say them now.

Please consider them said.

[music continues]

[whispers]
I will say them later.

[male narrator]
For an hour, he had been
seeing spots before his eyes.

Twice, he had felt
faint and dizzy..

...and that had worried him.

Then suddenly,
he saw a dark shadow..

...that took so long
to pass the boat

that he couldn't
believe its length.

He can't be that big.

[dramatic music]

[male narrator]
But he was that big.

He felt faint again.

"I moved him," he thought.

"Maybe this time,
I can get him over."

Pull, hands.

Hold on, legs.

[music continues]

[male narrator]
"I must get him
alongside this time"

the old man thought.

Next time, I'll pull him over.

[grunts]

[male narrator]
He tried it once more

and he felt himself going
when he turned the fish.

"I will try it again,"
the old man promised

and he could only see well
in flashes.

[music continues]

Fish, you're going
to die, anyway.

Do you have to kill me too?

[male narrator]
He took all his pain
and what was left

of his strength
and his long-gone pride..

...and he put it
against the fish's agony.

"I must get him close,
close, close," he thought.

"I mustn't try for the head

I must get the heart."

[music continues]

Now, I have killed this fish,
who was my brother.

Now, I must do the slave work.

Get to work, old man.

[instrumental music]

The old man did not
need a compass

to tell him
where southwest was.

He only needed
the feel of the trade wind

and the drawing of the sail,
he could see the fish.

And he had only
to look at his hands

and feel his back
against the stern

to know that this
had truly happened

and was not a dream.

"The hands cure quickly,"
he thought.

"I've bled them clean.

"The salt water will heal them.

"The dark water of the gulf
is the greatest healer

that there is."

Then, his head started
to become unclear

and he asked himself

"Is he bringing me in,
or am I bringing him in?"

They were sailing together,
lashed side by side.

And the old man thought

"Let me bring him in,
if it pleases him.

"I am only better than him
through trickery

and he meant me no harm."

They sailed well,
and the old man

soaked his hands
in the salt water

and tried to keep
his head clear.

He looked
at the fish constantly

to make sure it was true.

It was an hour before
the first shark hit him.

[intense music]

He was a very big mako shark

built to swim as fast as the fastest fish of the sea.

Now, he speeded up as he
smelled the fresher scent

and his blue dorsal fin
cut the water.

When the old man
saw him coming, he knew

that this was a shark
that had no fear at all

and would do exactly
what he pleased.

[dramatic music]

It's too good to be true.

Might just as well
have been a dream.

Mako!

[music continues]

[creaking]

[music continues]

Now, my fish bleeds again.

And there will be others.

It was too good to be true.

[male narrator]
The old man did not look
at the fish anymore

since it had been mutilated.

When the fish had been hit..

...it was as if he himself
had been hit.

"But I killed the shark that hit my fish," he thought.

"He was the biggestdentuso
I have ever seen.

It was too good to last."

He knew that each
of the jerking bumps

of the shark
had been meat torn away.

And that the fish
now made a trail of blood

for all sharks
as wide as a highway

through the sea.

He knew quite well the pattern of what could happen

when he reached the inner part of the current.

But there was nothing
to be done now.

"Yes, there is," he thought.

"I can lash my knife to the butt of one of the oars.

I should've brought a stone
for the knife," he thought.

"You should've brought
many things

"but you did not bring them.

"Now is no time to think

"of what you do not have.

"Think of what you can do

"with what you have.

You give me good counsel,"
he thought

"I'm tired of it."

[groans]

I am still an old man,
but I will not be unarmed.

[skiff creaks]

[intense music]

[groans]

Ay, galanos!

[music continues]

[music continues]

Come on, galanos!

Come on.
Come on, galanos!

Come on. Come on. Come on.

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[sighs]
I went out too far, fish.

No good for you, nor for me.

I'm sorry, fish.

[mellow music]

I still have almost
half of him left.

Maybe I will have
the luck to bring

that much of him in.

I should have some luck.

No.

No, you violated your luck

when you went too far out.

[music continues]

Don't be silly.

Stay awake and steer.

You still may have some luck.

I would like to buy some..

...if there is a place
where they sell it.

What would I buy it with?

A lost harpoon?
A broken knife?

Two bad hands?

You might.

You tried to buy it
with 84 days..

...at sea.

They almost sold it to you too.

Must not think such nonsense.

Luck is a thing
that comes in many forms.

Who can recognize her?

I wish I could see
the lights of Havana.

I wish for too many things.

But that is what I wish now.

[male narrator]
He saw the reflected glare
of the light of the city

at what must have been
around 10 o'clock at night.

He was stiff and sore now.

And his wounds
and all of the strained parts

of his body hurt.

He could not talk
to the fish anymore

because the fish had been
ruined too badly.

Then, something came
into his head.

Half fish.

Fish that you were.

I am sorry I went out too far.

Ruined us both.

But we have killed
many sharks, you and I.

And ruined many more.

How many have you
ever killed, old fish?

You do not have
that spear for nothing.

[instrumental music]

"What will you do now if they come in the night?" he thought.

What will I do
if they come in the night?

I'll fight them.

I'll fight them until I die.

[male narrator]
"Oh, but I hope I do not have
to fight again," he thought.

"I hope so much I do not
have to fight again."

[music continues]

But he fought again,
and this time

he knew the fight was useless.

Come on.

Come on!

[dramatic music]

Come on.

Come on, galanos!

Come on, galanos!

Come on!

Come on, galanos!

[groaning]

[male narrator]
He knew he was beaten now

finally, and without remedy.

I'm sorry, fish.

[instrumental music]

[male narrator]
He could feel he was inside
the current now.

And he could see the lights
of the beach colonies

along the shore.

He knew where he was now

and it was nothing
to get home.

"The wind is our friend
anyway," he thought.

Then he added, "Sometimes.

"And the great sea
with our friends

"and our enemies...and bed.

"Bed is my friend, just bed.

Bed will be a great thing."

It is easy
when you are beaten.

What beat you?

Nothing.
I just went out too far.

Man is not made for defeat.

Man can be destroyed

but not defeated.

[male narrator]
It was quiet in the harbor,
and he sailed up

onto the little patch
of shingle below the rocks.

There was no one to help him.

He un-stepped the mast

furled the sail..

...and he shouldered the mast, and started to climb.

It was then...he knew

the depth of his tiredness.

[music continues]

[groans]

[cat meows]

[music continues]

He had to sit down five times

before he reached the shack.

[birds chirping]

In the morning,
it was blowing so hard

that the drifting boats
would not be going out.

And the boy had slept late

and then had come
to the old man's shack

as he had come each morning

while the old man was gone.

The old man was asleep

and the boy saw
that he was breathing.

[music continues]

And then, he saw
the old man's hands

and he started to cry.

[instrumental music]

He went out quietly
to bring some coffee

and all the way
down the road, he was crying.

Many fishermen
were around the skiff

looking at what was beside it.

And one was in the water,
his trousers rolled up

measuring the skeleton
with the length of line

and preparing to take off
the head and the bill.

The boy did not go down.

He had been there before.

[instrumental music]

Martin.

A can of coffee
with plenty of milk

and sugar in it.

What a fish that was.

There has never
been such a fish.

Oh, those were two
fine fish you took yesterday.

Never mind about my fish.

Does he want
a drink of any kind?

No. If he does, I'll be back.

You tell him how sorry I am.

Thanks.

I'll get the coffee.

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[coughs]

They beat me, Manolin.

They truly beat me.

He didn't beat you,
not the fish.

Did you suffer much?

Now, we'll fish together again.

No, no.

I am not lucky anymore.

The hell with luck.
I'll bring the luck with me.

What will your father say?

I don't care what he says.

We'll..

We will have to get
a killing lance

and keep it onboard
at all times.

It must be very sharp..

...and not tempered
so it will break

like my knife broke.

I'll get another knife.

How many days
of heavy wind have we?

Oh, maybe three.

Maybe more.

I'll have everything in order.

You get your hands well,
old man.

They will be alright
in a couple of days.

I know how to care for them.

During the night,
I spat up something strange.

I felt like something
in my chest was broken.

Get that well too.

Drink your coffee.

I'll get you
something to eat.

And, and bring me the papers

from the time I was away.

I will.

[instrumental music]

[upbeat music]

[singing in foreign language]

[male narrator]
That afternoon,
there was a party of tourists

from Havana at a cafe.

One of them looked down
at the water, and among

the empty beer cans
and dead barracuda

she saw the long backbone
of the great fish

that was now just garbage

waiting to go out
with the tide.

"What's that?"
she asked the waiter.

"Tiburon," the waiter said.
"A shark."

He was trying to explain
what had happened

to the marlin.

"I didn't know
sharks had such handsome

beautifully formed tails,"
the woman said.

"I didn't either,"
her male companion answered.

Up the road in his shack, the old man was sleeping again.

He was still sleeping
on his face

and the boy was sitting
by him, watching him.

The old man was dreaming
about the lions.

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[singing in foreign language]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[music continues]