Galanos

Galanos is the name Santiago, the old fisherman, uses for the shovel-nosed sharks that attack his great marlin after the Mako shark's initial assault. These sharks are not the noble, powerful Mako; they are scavengers, hateful and bad-smelling, that come in packs to tear away the flesh of the fish Santiago had fought so hard to catch. The term "Galanos" itself becomes a cry of recognition and defiance, a word Santiago utters when he sees their brown, triangular fins and the sweeping movements of their tails, knowing that the worst part of his ordeal has begun.

Identity and Nature of the Galanos

The Galanos are identified by their wide, flattened, shovel-pointed heads and white-tipped pectoral fins. Santiago describes them as hateful sharks, scavengers as well as killers, that will bite at an oar or the rudder of a boat when hungry. He recalls that these are the sharks that cut the legs and flippers off turtles when the turtles are asleep on the surface, and that they will hit a man in the water, even without the smell of fish blood. They are the opposite of the Mako, which Santiago respects for its beauty and nobility; the Galanos are stupid, driven by a great hunger, and their attacks are a messy, relentless destruction rather than a clean, powerful strike.

The First Galanos Attack

The first attack by the Galanos comes after Santiago has killed the Mako shark. He sees two of them coming, their fins cutting the water. He prepares his weapon: an oar with a knife lashed to the butt. As they close in, one turns and goes under the skiff, shaking it as it jerks and pulls on the fish. The other comes in fast with its half-circle of jaws wide, hitting the marlin where it has already been bitten. Santiago drives the knife into the juncture where the brain joins the spinal cord, then into the shark's yellow, cat-like eyes. The shark lets go and slides down, swallowing what it has taken as it dies. The skiff is still shaking from the destruction the other shark is doing, and Santiago maneuvers the boat to bring it out from under. He leans over and stabs it, hitting the meat and the hard hide, then drives the blade into its flat-topped head, its left eye, and finally between the vertebrae and the brain. He twists the blade to open its jaws and the shark slides loose. Santiago tells it to go down a mile deep and see its friend, or maybe its mother. After this attack, he estimates they have taken a quarter of the marlin, and of the best meat.

The Single Shovel-nose and the Second Galanos Attack

Later, a single shovel-nose shark comes, like a pig to a trough. Santiago lets it hit the fish and drives the knife on the oar into its brain. But the shark jerks backwards as it rolls, and the knife blade snaps. Santiago is left with only the gaff, the two oars, the tiller, and a short club. He knows he is too old to club sharks to death, but he will try as long as he has anything to fight with. Just before sunset, the Galanos return. He sees two brown fins coming along the wide trail the marlin must make in the water, swimming side by side. He takes the club, an oar handle sawed off to about two and a half feet. He lets the first one get a good hold, then raises the club high and brings it down heavy and slamming onto the top of its broad head, feeling the rubbery solidity and the rigidity of bone. He strikes it again hard across the point of the nose. The other shark comes in with its jaws wide, and Santiago can see pieces of the marlin's meat spilling white from the corner of its jaws. He swings at it, hitting only the head, then swings again as it slips away, hitting only the heavy solid rubberiness. He calls out, "Come on, galano," and hits it again as it shuts its jaws, this time feeling the bone at the base of the brain. He hits it again in the same place while the shark tears the meat loose sluggishly and slides down. Neither shark shows again, and Santiago knows he has hurt them both badly, but half of the marlin has been destroyed.

The Midnight Pack Attack and Final Defeat

The final attack comes at midnight. The Galanos come in a pack, and Santiago can only see the lines in the water that their fins make and their phosphorescence as they throw themselves on the fish. He clubs at heads, hears the jaws chop and the shaking of the skiff as they take hold below. He clubs desperately at what he can only feel and hear, and then something seizes the club and it is gone. He jerks the tiller free from the rudder and beats and chops with it, holding it in both hands and driving it down again and again. They are up to the bow now, driving in one after the other and together, tearing off pieces of meat. One comes against the head itself, and Santiago knows it is over. He swings the tiller across the shark's head where the jaws are caught in the heaviness of the fish's head. He swings it once, twice, and again. He hears the tiller break and lunges at the shark with the splintered butt, feeling it go in and driving it in again. The shark lets go and rolls away. That is the last shark of the pack. There is nothing more for them to eat. Santiago knows he is beaten now finally and without remedy. He spits into the ocean and tells the Galanos to eat that and make a dream they have killed a man. In the night, more sharks hit the carcass, but Santiago pays no attention, sailing his skiff home. The Galanos have taken everything but the skeleton, the head, and the tail, leaving only the white naked line of the backbone and the dark mass of the head with the projecting bill, all the nakedness between.