Which, unfortunately, went badly. Rattled, the junior officer required several turns of the helm, with the ship timidly advancing then quickly reversing; turning first to port then to starboard until--after an interminable time--it was safely lashed to the dock's stanchions.
Blanched with trepidation at the diatribe he knew in his heart would be coming from the admiral's launch, he was quite perplexed by the one-word signal sent by semaphore: "Good".
His relief was short lived, however, as this was quickly followed by
Doesn't get much more concise than that.To the previous message please add the word "God"!