I read this in one sitting on a train — Santiago, the marlin, the sharks, the skeleton mistaken for a shark at the end.
I enjoyed it, but the prose is so simplistic and repetitive that at points it feels like a drawn-out fable — yes, your hand hurts, we know, you said that two pages ago. At its best the stripped language has a chant-like rhythm; at its worst it outstays the fable.
The lions dream still landed. Liked it a lot, didn't quite love it — the ending is what I remember.