Pi catches a small hawksbill turtle, driven by desperate thirst and the survival manual’s promise that turtle blood is “good, nutritious, salt-free.” He flips the turtle and struggles to haul it onto the raft, but the animal thrashes too violently for him to handle there, so Pi decides to bring it onto the lifeboat.

On a scorching, cloudless day, Richard Parker stays lethargic under the tarpaulin and only growls as Pi drags the turtle aboard and places it upside down. Following the survival manual like a cookbook, Pi tries to sever the turtle’s neck vessels, but the turtle has retracted into its shell and lashes out with its beak and claws when attacked.

Pi hacks at the neck with a hatchet and collects roughly three hundred millilitres of bright blood in a beaker. He drinks it all despite its warm, animal taste, then saws through the turtle’s belly shell with the knife’s toothed edge. Even after Pi slashes to the vertebrae and finally chops the head off, the flippers keep beating and the severed head continues blinking and gulping, horrifying Pi.

Smelling blood, Richard Parker becomes animated, so Pi dumps the still-twitching turtle body into the tiger’s territory and retreats to the raft. Pi watches, drained and resentful, as Richard Parker devours the turtle messily, and Pi feels the brutal labor was scarcely worth the small cup of blood.

Afterward, Pi thinks seriously about the larger problem of living with Richard Parker. Richard Parker’s tolerance in extreme heat is not enough; Pi needs reliable, safe access to the locker and the tarpaulin regardless of conditions. Pi concludes that he must assert “rights” through might and begin carving out firm territory for himself.