Pi pulls out the survival manual from the lifeboat’s supplies and carefully turns its still-wet pages. Written by a British Royal Navy commander, it offers practical advice about dehydration, exposure, navigation, and edible sea life, along with morale-boosting distractions.

Pi reacts to the manual with a mix of appreciation and skepticism. He finds some warnings obvious to him and jokes internally about the English sense of food, but he values the pamphlet as guidance for avoiding slow death at sea.

One critical omission stands out: nothing addresses how to handle a dangerous animal sharing a lifeboat. Pi concludes he must create his own training program for Richard Parker, establishing an “alpha” hierarchy and defining strict boundaries—Richard Parker’s territory on the boat versus Pi’s forbidden zones.

Thinking ahead, Pi realizes immediate survival requires action, not waiting. He notes that Richard Parker will soon finish the remaining carcasses, so Pi must begin fishing, build better shelter and a canopy, secure the raft with a second rope, and improve the raft’s habitability and storage so he can endure until he can safely live on the lifeboat.

Pi forces himself to abandon passive hope of rescue, recognizing that excessive hoping leads to inaction and that survival must come from focusing on what is close and immediate. Looking at the empty horizon and feeling utterly alone, Pi breaks down crying, overwhelmed by how hopeless his situation seems.