Captain Wentworth had thought he could outrun the Mercer by cutting through the storm, but it was more severe than he had anticipated. With the foremast broken off, his ship was crippled and the Mercer was coming about—no doubt to board. The storm had dampened the powder room so the cannon were of no use—it would be hand-to-hand combat.

The crew, armed with muskets and pistols waited in dread on the pitching and rolling main deck for the cutthroats to come aboard.

“God save the King!” Captain Wentworth shouted above the roar of the storm to encourage his crew as the Mercer came alonside.

Shots rang out on both sides as the crew made their stand. Volleys expended with no time to reload the fighting resorted to sabers, cutlasses, and daggers. The pirates stormed over the bodies of the fallen and were pushing the crew back. All seemed lost!

Out of nowhere a bolt of lightning hit the Mercer, detonating her magazine and she went down taking her captain with her. The now leaderless pirates began to fall back and were driven overboard.

The ship was saved—now to survive the storm. Would they ever see England again?