Barbarossa had now decided to leave his anchorage, but the veteran seaman did not disguise from himself the risks which he ran:  a greater sea captain than he once said “only numbers can annihilate,” and it was at annihilation that both the Moslem and the Christian aimed:  in this case, however, he knew that he could but hope for a hard-won victory, and only that if Allah and his Prophet were unusually favourable to his cause.  He assembled his captains, many of whom had served with him during long periods of his career, and directed them to form line:  he said, “I have but one order to give, follow my movements attentively and regulate your own accordingly.”

With fustas, brigantines, galleots, and galleys, the Ottoman fleet amounted in all to one hundred and forty sail.  With shouts of joy the soldiers hailed the command to weigh the anchors, and in a very short time all were slowly moving seaward.

The die was cast:  Doria from his anchorage at Sessola saw the sea white with the sails of the enemy, the blue water churning to foam beneath the strokes of his oars; the Ottoman fleet was issuing from the Gulf of Arta manoeuvring with precision and deploying into a single line abreast; which line being slightly concave, either from accident or design, resembled the form of a crescent.  In advance came six great fustas commanded by Dragut; the left wing hugged the shore as closely as possible; the Ottoman commander-in-chief intended to commence operations on the first principles of strategy by flinging his whole force on a portion of that of the enemy.

Andrea Doria remained undecided:  he was on a lee shore, and that shore was the coast of the enemy; although his foes were advancing to the attack it seemed as if he had no mind to fight:  whether he had or had not he displayed a most remarkable sluggishness, hesitating for three hours before getting up his anchors; these he only weighed at last under pressure from the bellicose Patriarch of Aquilea, Vincenzo Capello, and the Papal captain, Antonio Grimani.  Doria had counted on the support of the Galleon of Venice and the nefs; but the galleon was becalmed four miles from the land and ten miles from Sessola, where Doria was at the beginning of the action.

Condalmiero sent a light skiff from the Galleon of Venice to the commander-in-chief demanding orders and help from the galleys.

“Begin the fight,” answered the admiral, “you will be succoured.”

The position of Condalmiero was that of a modern battleship which is disabled and surrounded by foes in full possession of their motive power; the great galleon floated inert upon the waters while the galleys could fight or fly as they wished.  The captain of the galleon, however, had no alternative save to surrender or fight; but there was no hesitation on his part, for a more gallant officer never trod the decks of a warship of the proud Republic to which he belonged.