A few months after his departure, there were five pirate ships in the Red Sea, under English colours; two more, each mounting fourteen guns, were in the Persian Gulf, and another was cruising off Tellicherry.  At Madagascar others were coming in fast.  The news of Every’s great booty had spread from port to port, and every restless spirit was intent on seeking his fortune in this new Eldorado, as men nowadays flock to a new goldfield.  The Company’s sailors were not proof against the temptation.  While on the way from Bombay to China the crew of the Mocha frigate mutinied, off the coast of Acheen, killed their captain, Edgecombe, and set afloat in the pinnace twenty-seven officers and men who refused to join them.  The Mocha was then renamed the Defence, and for the next three years did an infinity of damage in the Indian Ocean.  At the same time, the crew of the Josiah ketch from Bombay, while at anchor in the Madras roads, took advantage of the commander being on shore to run away with the ship.  The whole thing had been planned between the two crews before leaving Bombay; their intention being to meet off the coast of Sumatra, and cruise in company.  The piratical career of the Josiah did not last long.  Making first for the Nicobars, the crew flocked on shore, and were soon involved in quarrels with the natives; leaving on board only two men, one of whom was James Cruffe, the armourer, who had been forced to join them against his will.  The other man was but a lukewarm pirate, and Cruffe prevailed on him to join in an attempt to carry off the ship.  They cut the cable, and by great good fortune, without any knowledge of navigation, succeeded in carrying the ship into Acheen.

Stout’s command of the Defence, once Mocha, quickly came to an end.  According to one account, he was put to death by his comrades, at the Laccadives, for trying to desert them; according to another account, he was slain by some Malays.  His place was taken by Culliford, who had been the leader of the mutineers of the Josiah.  He changed the ship’s name to the Resolution, and proved himself one of the most daring rovers of his day.

The untrustworthiness of his crews placed Sir John Gayer in an awkward dilemma.  He had to report to the Directors that he dared not send ships to convoy pilgrims lest the crews should mutiny; that a boat could not be manned in Bombay harbour for fear of desertion, while, on shore, he had not a soldier fit to be made a corporal.  A powerful French squadron had appeared on the coast, and the Surat President calculated that the Company’s recent losses on captured ships sailing from Surat amounted to a million sterling.  The losses of the native merchants were even more serious; trade was almost at a standstill, while three more pirate ships from New York appeared in the Gulf of Cambay, and captured country ships to the value of four lakhs of rupees.  Every letter along the coast at this date speaks of the doings of the rovers:  every ship coming into harbour told of pirates, of chases and narrow escapes, and of reported captures.