During the whole of the 30th a tremendous gale was blowing dead on shore. Both fleets attempted to engage, but each time were prevented by the heavy weather. In the morning it cleared. Monk found himself close to the Dutch coast with the enemy to windward. Unwilling to engage where Tromp would have the advantage of his knowledge of the shoals, with harbours of refuge within easy reach, he stood out to sea, and the Dutch gave chase. They had one hundred and forty sail fresh from the yards, while Monk had but ninety storm-beaten ships, with crews sadly thinned and weakened by scurvy, nor had he a single fire-ship to oppose to those of the enemy. But dangers could never daunt the general. As soon as he had recovered sufficient sea-room began "the most fierce and cruel fight that ever was fought." It was already the sixth action of the war, and Monk meant it to be the last. He ordered that no prizes should be taken or quarter given. "The air," says the old historian, "was quickly filled with scattered limbs of men blown up: the sea was dyed with blood." It was "a very orderly battle" (according to one of the English flag-officers), in which the old soldier strove with extraordinary skill to win back the weather-gauge from the greatest seaman of the day. The two fleets were standing out to sea, line ahead on parallel courses and a southerly wind, when the action began by Monk suddenly tacking on Tromp with the intention of breaking his line. Tromp tacked also to parry the attack, but though he was clever enough to keep the wind with nearly the whole of his fleet, a few of his ships were cut off and put to flight. Then followed three determined encounters, in which each fleet tacked on the other, passing each time closer and closer in the desperate struggle for the weather-gauge. Every time Monk disabled some of the Dutch, and every time he pierced their line and scattered the part he weathered. Still Tromp kept the advantage with the bulk of his force; but it was at a fearful sacrifice. In the last encounter the ships had fought almost at pike's length. Again and again two of the Dutch admirals had tried to board the _Resolution_, and again and again they had recoiled before the storm of metal that roared from beneath the exultant soldier's feet. Old hands were awestruck at the fury of the fight. "The very heavens," says one, "were obscured with smoke; the air rent with the thundering noise; the sea all in a breach with the shot that fell; the ships even trembling, and we hearing everywhere the messengers of death flying about."