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A white squall is a sudden and violent windstorm at sea which is not accompanied by the black clouds generally characteristic of a squall. It manifests as a sudden increase in wind velocity in tropical and sub-tropical waters, and may be a microburst.
Captain Aergpfrew Wilfmoensyn hated this part of his duty more than anything else. But part of being captain, particularly of a semi-reformed pirate crew, was being able to grit one’s teeth as hard as necessary when there were unpleasant duties to be done, and then do them.
So it was that Hammerhead had pulled into Limsa Lominsa, her flag inverted. While he’d given his crew two day’s liberty, they would not leave the ship until he returned from his current errand. He sighed as he walked down the gangplank and saw her ship in port.
His destination came in sight all too soon, a small well-kept house, with a view of the docks. He caught sight of motion within and stopped for a moment to gather his courage and his words. Hells! It never got any easier. He’d half-hoped she would not be home, though that only meant a delay. No, best to get it done.
And she’d seen him approaching, for the door opened. She was a handsome woman just coming into her prime, tall and clear-eyed like her father.
“Captain Wilfmoensyn.” Her voice was sea-roughened. Though she spoke quietly, he’d no doubt she could, if necessary, bellow orders from the quarterdeck as well as he himself could.
“I apologize for coming with no notice. I’ve ill tidings for you.”
He saw realization dawn in her eyes, and a terrible grief passed over her features. It was gone in a moment, and when she spoke her voice was remarkably calm. “How?”
It was as well she was a Sea Wolf. Gods! How he hated explaining the perils of wind and wave to landsmen! He told her of the squall that had caught them. It was one of those gods-be-damned sudden blows that come out of nowhere on the seas. They explode with all the force of a hundred cannons, and can roll the mightiest ship on her beam.
Even the most sure-footed crewman can be caught off-guard by such. And such had happened to her man. Carried overside, out of reach in an eyeblink, and into the arms of the Navigator. No rescue possible, no remains to recover. They’d given him a sea burial anyway, the coffin filled with stones so it would sink and he’d find rest.
His words stumbled to a halt, and that terrible grief crossed her face again.
“Forgive me, Captain. I wish to be alone for a time.”
He drew himself upright. “I understand. I’m very sorry, Merlwyb.”