Very weak I was already; without sustenance I should surely die.

But as yet I was far enough from death, or I had done disdaining the means of life that all this time lay ready to my hand.

A number of dead fowls imparted ballast to my little craft.
Yet I could not look at them in all these hours; or I could look, but that was all.

So I must sit up one hour more, and keep a sharper eye than ever for the tiniest glimmer of a sail.

To what end, I often asked myself?
I might see them; they would never see me.
Then my eyes would fail, and "you squeamish fool!" I said at intervals, until my tongue failed to articulate; it had swollen so in my mouth.
Flying fish skimmed the water like thick spray; petrels were so few that I could count them; another shark swam round me for an hour.